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snugglebug-mj-blog · 2 months ago

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The eldest daughter who wasn't wanted

The sully family x oldest daughter reader

Chapter 3 ~ family ~

(I am rewriting this story)

(Y/n and her adopted family

Grandmother Leyra

Mother zo'ile

Father nawmrui

Older brother At'ok

Younger brothers Tayätsi and Tsu'ti (15 years old twins)

And baby brother kä'ey (8 years old)

Plus Mo'at

They will be introduced in this part ))

The sun has risen starting a new day and y/n had just slowly gotten out of bed when a small force rammed into her making her fall back into her bed. Y/n groaned in surprise before looking down to see a young na'vi boy smiling up at her

"Tsìltsan rewon tsawl tsmuke! (Good morning big sister!)" The young one said excitedly

Y/n smiled before hugging the young na'vi

"Kä'ey ma Hì'i tsmukan tsìltsan rewon! (my little brother good morning!)" Y/n said with a smile.

"Sa'nok (mother) said you were sad last night, so I've come this morning to see if you're feeling better!" Kä'ey said as he got out of his sister's arms and sat beside her.

Y/n gently patted her baby brothers head " thank you kä'ey. I feel a little better now" y/n said as she stood up making kä'ey follow beside her.

"Come let's go get breakfast with Sa'nok (mother) and grandmother" y/n said as her baby brother grabbed her hand.

"Today is the day that Sempul ulte tsawl tsmukan (father and big brothers) come back from training with the Elsweyr clan!" Kä'ey said excitedly y/n nodded

"Yes it is! I can't wait to see Sempul ulte tsmukans (father and brothers)! But we won't be able to celebrate much because we have visitors waiting to talk to Sempul (father)" y/n said as they got closer to their Sa'noks tent

Kä'ey nodded before running in.

"Tsìltsan rewon my prrnens (Good morning my babies)" zo'ile said with a smile as she sat with Leyra , making the elder chuckle

"Tsìltsan rewon Sa'nok(good morning mother), grandmother Leyra" y/n said as kä'ey dragged her to sit beside him.

"Grandmother Leyra, where is grandmother Mo'at?" Y/n asked looking up at her grandmother who was drinking.

Leyra sighed before putting her cup down

"She is speaking to our guest, hopefully she can knock some sense into them before your Sempul (father) gets here. That Jake Sully is a really stubborn Skxawng (idiot). He kept asking for you to come stay in their hut last night, tried to fight a guard to get into your hut, then tried again this morning before Mo'at smacked him" Leyra said rubbing her forehead.

Y/n reached over and gently grabbed her grandmothers hand "I am sorry for bringing them grandmother-" before y/n could finish speaking Leyra chuckled

"My granddaughter you've done nothing wrong. They needed help and you brought them here to be helped" Leyra said with a proud smile.

~After eating~

Kä'ey had ran off with Leyra as y/n stayed to help zo'ile clean up

"So your Sempul ulte tsmukans (father and brothers) should be back sometime today, listen out for the horns ok" zo'ile said as her and y/n got done putting everything away y/n nodded

"Oh I will I'm excited! I get to tell Sempul ulte tsmukans (father and brothers) what they missed, the past few weeks!" Y/n said excitedly making Zo'ile smile

"Do you think your mate will be with them?" Zo'ile asked with a teasing smile as they stepped out of the hut y/ns ears turned pink a few elders walking past aldo have a teasing smile and chuckles

"SA'NOK! We're just friends!" Y/n yelled in embarrassment

As the few elders and zo'ile laughed lightly to the flushed girl as she hid her face from everyone neytiri watched from a far, jealousy filled her chest.

She was your mother not zo'ile,

she should have a close bond with you not zo'ile,

She should be called Sa'nok not zo'ile

*Great mother what did we do to deserve this? My own daughter doesn't see me as her mother, she doesn't like me or my Jake. What did we do to deserve this?* Neytiri thought to herself.

Mo'at walked up beside her daughter to see her glaring at zo'ile teasing a very pink y/n.

"You and Jake made your decision by giving her up, don't be upset that she doesn't see you as her mother" Mo'at said shaking her head and walking away from her daughter.

Neytiri sighed they will prove that you belong with them not here.

~a little while later~

The sully children and spider where sitting together under a tree talking to each other, when y/n and kä'ey walked past them.

"Hi Tsawl tsmuke (big sister) y/n!" Tuk yelled making the sullys and spider look to where Tuk yelled, to see the tan na'vi with a little na'vi boy standing beside her.

Y/n and kä'ey walked towards the Sully's "hello" y/n said with a small smile. Kä'ey tugged on y/ns arm making her lean down and pick him up.

"Who is that?" Lo'ak asked pointing at the child who glared at the group from his older sisters shoulder.

"This is my Prrnen tsmukan (baby brother) Kä'ey" y/n said with a smile everyone froze

"Prrnen tsmukan? (Baby brother?)" The group asked before looking at each other.

"But y/n we're your siblings Sa'nok and Sempul (mother and father) are your parents" tuk said, y/n shock her head

"Yes we share blood but after Jake and neytiri gave birth to me they gave me away. They didn't want me because I was not normal. My parents took me in just like how neytiri and Jake took in kiri, I do not consider Jake and neytiri my family. I will try to have a relationship with you all but that will be all. Am I clear?" Y/n said bluntly making the group nodded.

Jake and Norm had walked over to the group "Ahh it's nice to see my family finally together." Jake said as he placed a hand on y/ns shoulder,

Making y/n, Kä'ey and a few guards hiss at him making him quickly retract his hand and put them up in defense as the guards raised their spears at him, Kä'ey hugged y/n tighter

"Again I am not YOUR daughter! You may have helped give me life but you are nothing to me" y/n hissed making Jakes ears flatten.

"Now listen here little lady-" Jake was cut off by a loud horn.

Y/n turned around to see a ship slowly docking at the end of the docs by by the swamp water area

"Sempul ulte tsmukans (Father and brothers!) are home!" Y/n and kä'ey said excitedly. Kä'ey jumped out of y/ns arms before taking off y/n following behind him.

As the two ran to the ship they saw everyone unloading before seeing a larger figure talking to some hunters

"SEMPUL!!!!" Y/N and kä'ey yelled making the larger Na'vis ears perk up, before turning towards the voices

"HAHA! Ma youngest itan ulte ma 'ite!!! (My youngest son and my daughter!!!)" Nawmrui yelled before getting down on one knee and opening his arms wide.

Kä'ey and y/n crashed full force into their father's awaiting arms, knocking him down onto his back.

The Eyktan (leader/Chief) laughed as he held two of his five children with a huge smile on his face.

"Aw we don't get a hug Tsawl tsmuke (big sister) Prrnen tsmukan (baby brother)?" A voice asked y/n looked up from her father to see her younger brothers Tsu'ti and Tayätsi crouching looking down at them

"Tsu'ti, Tayätsi!!" Y/n said happily as she got out of her father's grip and hugged the twins making them laugh and hugged their older sister back.

A thud was heard behind the group and when y/n turned around she saw her oldest brother At'ok who had placed a box down and helped their father back to his feet.

Y/n smiled before letting the twins go and turning towards her older brother they smiled and hugged each other.

"I see your here and well. How was your trip into the woods" At'ok asked y/n sighed but before she could speak kä'ey spoke

"Sempul ulte tsmukans (father and brothers brothers) the Sully's are here and they made Tsawl tsmuke upset. They also said they are her family" kä'ey said as he looked down at his father from his shoulders.

Everyone around the family froze before looking at y/n. Nawmrui eyes widden before looking down at his small daughter whos ears flattened a little

"Sempul they came for help and they were hurt, I just wanted to help. Sa'nok let them stay the night and heal, and she left judgement for you" y/n said rubbing her arm.

Nawmrui took a breath before gently patting his daughter's head

"It's ok ma daughter." He said with a smile before telling everyone to continue unloading everything before he made his way to the healers tent.

~Later~

The sullys and their human friends sat in the Eyktan hut in front of the large leader. Nawmrui glared at Jake with hatred. Nawmrui children and Mo'at sat beside him, as the sully children sat beside their parents.

"Tell me why have you come here," nawmrui growled but calmed down when his mate Zo'ile gently pat his leg.

"Eyktan Nawmrui we've come seeking help, shelter, and to be near our daughter." Jake said said with a bow neytiri bow beside him

At'ok laughed before standing up glaring at the Sully's

"Your daughter? YOUR DAUGHTER?! you and your mate gave her up a week after birth because she was different! My parents, my grandmother, Mo'at, and our clan raised her! Not you!" At'ok hissed.

"We had no choice boy." Jake hissed

"Silence!" Nawmrui yelled making everyone freeze.

"Sullys we will help you but you will realize that y/n and Mo'at are part of our family and clan. Y/n will not answer to you" Nawmrui said calmly. Before standing up

"Everyone but Jake out" nawmrui said dismissing everyone for the night.

Everyone left and went to their own huts, leaving nawmrui towering over the Sully's.

(Brought to you by princess diaries)

"We will help your family and friends but

If you hurt my girl, you will answer directly to me, and whatever crimes I commit against you, remember, I have diplomatic immunity in 46 clans, including the fire and ash clan." Nawmrui growled,

Jake stood up straighter " Sir, you will find that the word "fear" is not in my vocabulary!" Jake tried to look unfazed.

Nawmrui chuckled "Perhaps... but it's in your eyes. Now get out" nawmrui pointed towards the door.

Jake quickly left, and nawmrui sighed before going to find his family. When he walked into his daughter's huts he sees y/n being hugged protectively by Leyra, zo'ile, At'ok, Tsu'ti, Tayätsi, and Kä'ey. Nawmrui smiled "make room for Sempul" nawmrui said walking into the hut.

#avatar story #avatar na'vi #avatar x reader #avatar 2009 #avatar x na'vi reader #avatar x y/n #avatar navi #avatar headcanons #avatar sully family #avatar 2009 x reader #x reader #x daughter!reader

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arminzblackbimbo · 5 months ago

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no more (baby i'ma do right)

part (੭̲᱖)

armin alert x blackfem!reader x connie springer

tw: mdni, poly relationship, oral (male r.), backshots, boy x boy moments, exhibition, missonary, taking turns, "bubba" as an endearment, spit, no plot just smut, sweat licking, three person kiss, lots of talking, begging, choking, a lil long again, whining and pouting, different perspectives, grinding, and praise

connie who watches while armin has you in a deep arch and gives you his all. his thumbs pressing into your back while he thrust deeply. his pelvis making hard contact with your soft ass. armin's consistent strokes being buried into you for the last 20 minutes, not letting up.

connie loves watching armin fuck you. he loves watching his hips swing into you. hearing those high pitched moans leave him, and seeing his skin have a slight red hue. the sight makes him start to buzz in his skin.

connie sits next to you in bed and rubs your back and whispers encouragement into your ear. while he watches you, he sees your body shake while the blonde strokes you deeply.

"you can do it baby, doesn't it feel good ?" connie encouraging you with his words. his breath against your ear adds to your senses. your drooling against the bed just nodding to answer connie's question.

your lips trembling together. "he's being t-t-too rough con' " your hands grip onto the sheets. armin keeps hitting so deeply inside you while you try and twist and turn in his hold. pushing into you so deeply you can feel him in your stomach.

"your ok baby, your ok " the words relax you just a little, enough for the burn in your stomach to take over. the electric like feeling make your toes curl and back arch in more, to relish in the pleasure.

your whine into the sheets feeling your legs start to tense up. the muscles shaking with how much you've clenched up. " connie-connie" you hands reach to grab him. pulling him close when you feel the clear liquid leave you and cover the silk sheets. you can feel your eyes cross to the back of your head while your moan into the night air

armin is behind you red in the face, mouth open letting out his whines and whimpers from your soft walls choking him. "bubba, i'm bout to cum" he speaks to connie, his face flush red as he looks connie in the eyes. armin know connie likes to swallow him. likes to capture the seed of him.

connie is so happy to swallow his cream he positions his chin on your butt, to catch armin in his mouth. sticking his tongue out when he watches armin pull out of you. your sticky fluids sticking to his girth. his mouth starting to a salivate, ready for the taste.

immediately starting to suckle on his tip when armin sticks it in his mouth. sucking softly to draw his orgasm from him. pushing more into his mouth to collect his semen and swallow. connie's mouth still sucking when he has nothing left to give him.

connie needs more, the taste frying his brain making his hunger grow. while he pushes more and more of armin into his mouth. loving how the girth stretches his mouth.

armin is gripping your waist while connie drains him. connie loves having the taste of you and armins essence at the same time. "ugh connie i-i- " armin is overwhelmed. he just had your walls hugging him. now connie is swallowing him, pushing him to the back of his throat.

you tiredly lay there while armin holds your hips, and listen to their exchange. from connie's spit as he moves up and down armin's length to armins loud moans and whines. you love listening to armin whines.

he made you feel so good and the liquid that left you has your eyes start too droop. all the physical intimacy making your body slump and breath to even out, armins hands holding you steady in a deep arch.

connie kissing the pink tip as it soften in his hands. "thank you baby, thank you so much for your cum" he swipes his tongue in armins slit to taste the last few droplets to quench his thirst. "mmm i love you, my pretty boy" connie rasps out. while he moves to the base of him and lick all of your juices off him.

looking up too see those tired baby blues, connies kisses his way up armins soft stomach. licking the droplets of sweat that rolls of him. the saltiness had him wanting more when he works his way up to his neck. licking and sucking all the hard work off him.

"i wanna kiss" armin pouts out. the tone making connie's length jump in his shorts. his body responding to his whines and begs.

connie trails his tongue up to his flushed face to collected all the sweat that sweeps from his pores. letting the taste hit his tongue "you always pouting bubba. use your manners"

"please gimme a kiss" he puckered his lips awaiting for those pillow soft lips. watching connie smile with those perfect teeth just shaking his head.

he chuckles a little, giving armins lips a teasing peck. watching when armin chases his lips when he pulls away "you and (୨୧) are so spoiled" pushing his lips to give him his wishes. swallowing his moans with his mouth.

swiping their tongues together, armin can taste his release on connie's tongue he loves how it's mixed with your juices. the taste making his eyes roll back. he moves his lips faster, wanting more, the sounds of their lips smacking almost making his soft length grow until connie's pulls away.

"you did so good baby, you gonna let me have her too ?" connie ask before he sees the blonde tiredly shake his head up and down. they share one last kiss before they part, letting spit web between their lips.

you jump when connie hits you hard on the soft skin of your butt. the smack ringing off you skin. making you open your eyes wide when your hear those words "wake up, baby" your body is tired. armin was so rough with you, your tender everywhere

you whine out into the sheets "bubba 'm tired" you can't even catch your breath with this two. you can feel connie replace where armin was holding your hips strong making your flinch.

"you not gonna let me get a taste baby" his hands that were holding you is now rubbing your hips. "hmm, come on baby you gotta talk to me" he wants to hear your pretty voice. hear you stagger out the answer he wants to hear so bad. he pushes you flat on your stomach and gently flips you over.

your heavily breathing on your back. seeing connies light eyes watch you intensely. waiting on a answer from you. you just pucker your lips looking at him with low eyes.

"what do you say baby ?" he just shakes his head that you and armin act just alike. expecting him to understand you from the pucker lips your showing him

"can i get a kiss please bubba ?" he presses his body on top of yours. heavily on your chest, and in between your legs that he wraps around his waist.

he leans into you laying those pink lips on you. you love to taste armin's cum on his tongue. his tongue laps at yours softly, making light sucking noises.

his hands gripping on your naked thighs letting the flesh spill between his fingers when his lips touch yours you can taste armin on his tongue loving how he taste with connie's spit.

he loves kissing both of you, likes how your lips are so soft and hold him securely. his hips are inbetween your legs, only covered with his boxers. his length pressed against your bare front through the thin cloth.

you steadily roll into him, feeling the pulse between your legs grow from the soft kisses. you can feel the arousal start to prickle your skin. you pull away, feeling overwhelmed "gimme it, i want it now please"

he grabs at your thighs tighter. you can see those straight white teeth smile at you. " you sure, i thought you was tired baby ?" he pecks you lips one more time. looking at your pretty face demand him to touch your shaking body

"no-no i want you please bubba" you grab onto him you legs wrapping around him like tighter. legs wrapping around and hands clutching him tightly.

he unhooks your limbs from around him. positioning your body into a new direction. your pliable due to your exhaustion, it allows him to easily slide your knees to touch your shoulders. folding your body in half. he likes having you like this. in half so he can easily see his favorite parts of you.

you can feel armin lay next to you catching his breath while you are just prepped for connie. you see his body sweaty and relaxed, panting watching connie hold your body still.

connie can see armin was pretty rough with you causing your folds to be swollen. your clit sticking into the air and you pulse from the aftershocks and air hitting the area, causing juices to spill out of you. you walls are squished tightly around nothing. just fluttering waiting for connie's attention

he watched the liquid leave your walls and cover your puckered hole. he groans out at the beauty of the sight. he becomes impatient stripping himself of all his clothes.

pressing those knees tighter against your shoulders. he can see those puffy lips. fat from the assault of armins hips. he rubs his thick length between those swollen puffy lips, letting them cushion him as he catches the leaky head on your swollen clit. letting your leftover cream coat him in a even sheen.

"i want this pussy so bad, but you ain't begged enough for this dick" he grinds into you deeper. his hips dragging until all of his thick length is covered in your wettness. "you gotta beg for it baby" those light eyes stinging into you.

"hmm please please bubba i need you" you go to grab on his naked arms that hold your legs going to pull him to where he closer to you. "please i need you so bad"

he watches you beg for him as he hears the slick noises from below you. it makes him harder in between your legs. " you want it that bad baby ?" he feels your hands grabbing him.

connie still rubs himself on you. grinding into you harder slotting himself to hit your clit harder. you shake your head up and down. "yes, yes please" your bottom lip start to shake again. your always spoiled with affection when you don't get immediate attention for your begging your first reaction is to pout and cry.

he goes to grab your face into one of his hands. "stop all that crying, you gonna get this dick. alright ?" he moves to lay those lips on you again. giving you light pecks on your pushed out lips. his hands puckering your lips up. "just wanted you to beg a lil" he whispers against your lips

you can feel your stomach tighten at his words and his hips rolling into you. he groans as you start to coat him even more, "you ready baby ?" he's holding back when he sees you in a dazed out look. seeing your pupils dilated and just a slight string of drool hanging out your pushed together lips

you can't respond because of his hands holding your face. simply shaking your head and he accepts your pleas, his stomach clenches when he pokes his thick length into you. your tight muscles popping when he slips slowly inside.

he can almost easily settle inside thanks to armins rough thrust earlier. your ribbed walls wrapped tightly around him. it causes him to relax into you laying his chest on top of yours "shit (୨୧) you trynna kill me" the tip of him spreading you out with a slight burn

moving your legs from of your shoulders, the front of your chest bare so that his chest is on top of yours. the stretch sending you into overdrive. as he works slowly into you.

connie has always had trouble fitting inside you. his width always giving him a hard time. the thickness making your walls stretch unnecessarily. the feeling in your stomach has your calling out to him. almost overwhelmed

he rest his forehead on yours letting his heart beat connect with yours through your chest. lips slightly touching yours. "come on, let me in baby" his eyes so close to yours the eye contact has you shivering. your name rolling of his lips, touching yours.

you connect your lips with his just savoring the feeling of him between your legs. pushing till he is half way inside of you. the light thrust he does to get deeper into you has you squirming.

armin can see your lips wetting connie's while he relaxes next to you. he come close to you rolling to his side to watch connie hips work against yours. the small thrust warming you up, for the movement of his hips

he moves closer to both of you. watching while your lips connect softly. his hunger for you both growing. he wants a kiss from you both. armin moves to touch your body as his drift towards you, his face mere centimeters away from both of yours

watching intensely as your lips connect. wanting the feeling he sees. going to give you a small peck on your cheek to alert you that he is there. spreading more kisses that are slightly wet with his saliva.

working his lips til they are almost next to yours that move with connie's. he pecks the corner of skin of your lips. armin whines so that y'all can notice him when he squeeze his face in between both of yours he is almost to his wishes.

you and connie move your head to allow armins soft lips to touch yours. his body so close its molding with the both of your moving bodies. the three pairs of lips trying to find a right pace so that they are all can find pleasure.

start to move your lips slow so that armin can catch up with how connie is trying to stuff his tongue instead both of your mouths. loud smacking being made and eager licks toward each other.

the tangles of wet muscles and low groan from connie are the sounds your hear. armin swollen lips working against you both. the feelings of both their mouths on yours as you feel connie inch deeper and deeper inside almost flush to each other.

different techniques working together to find pleasure. sloppy letting the saliva coat each others lips. dripping down to your chin, teeth clashing. connie hips start a shallow pace making your toes curl as you feel the pressure in your stomach.

you lips still when he hits a certain spot in you. moaning against them letting them get carried with their own kiss while you relax into the deep strokes connie gives you. clutching him tighter against you. "mmm connie, feels so good" you pull your face into his neck as he occupies armin with his sweet kisses.

your stomach knotting with the deep strokes you feel. letting those long nails grip his back. shivering into connie's body, you see connie's teeth pull armins lip as he leans away from him. panting softly at the stamina he is working himself up too.

skin to skin feeling how your goosebumps cover your body. connie moves closer to your ear. "i wanna see you kiss armin baby" licking the skin on you face to collect the sweat that coats your skin.

your lips are swollen from the assault of both of theirs. you whine for armins mouth, after unlatching your self from connie's neck. groaning when armin rushes to push his tongue down your thoart. rushing your lips to move faster against his

connie lets armin distract with those kisses while he pokes you deeper, rolling his hips. hitting that spot that has your toes curling. pelvis to pelvis grinding into you. watching those pretty eyes flutter. your swollen clit catching onto the front of his base.

you hands grabbing armin. legs wrapping around connie tightly keeping him from going anywhere. while your lips tangle with armins. you can feel connie's grunts vibrate through your chest.

you come up for air, gasping as you feel connie hitting that spot that has you whining. you feel connie strong hand come to hold on your neck applying pressure that has you squeaking out at each thrust

"ugh gimmie this pussy" he is so vulgar letting those dirty words leave his mouth. opposite of you and armin who are rather shy. he can't help the filthy things that leave his mouth when he plows deeper into you.

armin tiredly lays next to both of you turning to his side licking his swollen lips and watching connie's hip dig into yours. now he sees why connie loved it so much. he can see both of your faces morphe into those euphoria like features. watches while connie hand grips your neck as he uses your throat as an anchor to work into you

seeing the sweat dripping of his body when it connected with yours. seeing your nail dig into his back sure to draw blood. while he hears your voice coo out into his ear "it's too big bubba, too big c-c can't do it"

your still sensitive from armin roughness your walls tender clenching around him when he pushes his length rougher into you. letting his hand squeeze against your throat tighter. "you love this big dick, don't be like that baby" kissing along the side your neck beside his hand. "mmh don't you love this dick ?"

"yes yes i love it !" he moves his hand away backing away from your chest. giving himself room to get a taste. seeing your chest bounce and glow from the sweat your body is producing. hooking his hands under your back to arch you up. he lowers his head to attach himself to you. sucking softly and getting the sweet sweat that comes with it.

you moan feeling him flick his tongue, loving the sensation of every feeling your release come early. feeling that static start to spread throughout your body, his hips working in a steady rhythm, helping you towards that feeling.

armin comes along too, your breast making his mouth water he can't resist himself. he working his mouth on the fat of you breast sucking along the flesh. suctioning his lips so that color of the skin underneath changes due the pressure. armin working hard to cover your chest with hickes

you feel the electricity through your body the frizzy feeling in you toes making you start to shake everywhere. your waist shaking connie holding you harder, legs flaring and shaking as armin helps to hold them down while connie hips still roll into you.

"armin imma cum, i'm cumming bubba, ugh" you say armins name grabbing with him with grabby hands. even though connie is the one that's hitting your cervix with accuracy. your eyes starting to roll, with those body tremors and tightness. you hear the wetness before you feel it.

hear it spray connie stomach with he continues his assault going harder to prolong your juices spraying out. "mmm" as you can say, feeling the relief. mouth open as even more start to splash out. also the cream coming out of you is in abundance coating his thickness sliding easily out of you.

you can still feel them sucking on you the hickies armin making spreading to your neck telling you praises as you start to calm down and you start to breathe heavily when you vision becomes clearer. "you did so good sweetheart, so good" armin saying through his light voice.

connie lets your chest go, groaning while he tries to move gently but your so soft inside he start to feel an early arivval. start to feel his calf's lock up with the way he is tensing.

laying back on top you skin to skin working his hips gently to feel the locking in his thighs, but what send him over the edge is when armin places his lip in the one spot that cause him to go feral. making connie grip his chest closer to yours. while you start to drool and feel like your in a cloudy space

"mm i'm cummin, " he groans picking up his pace when it shake his whole body. let the ropes of cum hit your cervix grinding to make sure you get every drop. while he shudders on top you. the feelings becoming to much for him. both breathing heavily

armin kissing you both on the cheek and saying he running a bath. cleaning all the messes while your both relax.

connie kissing into cheek, whispering to you trying to bring you back. trying to get you talk to him, you only whine back eyes closed while body remains still. but when armin comes and says the bath is ready trying to separate you two.

you instantly tighten your legs around he has to slowly pop out of you working your legs off of him when armin scoops you up too carry you to the bath

you lay on armin chest when you lay in the bath while connie is behind you starting to wash your legs and armins. your feel the sleep take you away trusting them to clean you up and tuck you in for bed.

part (੭̲᱖)

158 notes · View notes

ollieolliewrld · 9 months ago

Note

Welcome to the tumblr writing space! I'm confident you'll do amazing here!

If I may request DMC- and take your time with it -what kind of partner the twins would realistically prefer. Whether it be personality types, deal breakers, what they are willing to compromise for/with, what they expect etc. I'm curious of others takes on these types of things and I'd like to see yours, when you have the time. Whether it's DMC 3 or 5 (or post 5) era, is up to you.

Happy writing! Again, take your time and polish as much as you feel you need to. Have fun!

Love, love, love this! Thank you for the request and the kind words <3 I’ll be taking the DMC 5 and post 5 era but I may revisit this once I finish playing DMC 3 fully!

**This is not a fluff piece it is a bit more serious**

1.3K words

Dante

✭ Ideal Partner

-Dante’s ideal partner would be someone who has a good understanding of their surroundings

-He’s looking for someone perceptive so that you both share a mutual understanding of situations

-Basically, he doesn’t want to hold their hand and baby them through life

-If something happens he is going to make sure they are ok but also expects that they will not crumble completely

-Dante has been through hell and back when it’s time for him to settle down he is not playing games

-He’s a grown man who wants his chance to finally relax

-The cocky attitude he keeps up can get him through a lot but his partner is the one who truly pulls him through it all

✭ Deal Breakers

-Will not put up with tantrums

-He can understand if you get emotional at times, he doesn’t expect you to have it all together 24/7

-But you cannot throw a fit if something does not go your way

-Dante cannot be everywhere at once and with the state of things there are going to be times when he will have to cancel a date or movie night

-If you cannot understand that he will not stay

-If he is going to be with someone long-term they need to be understanding of his background

✭ Compromises

-Dante would not want his partner anywhere near combat unless they have proven to be fully capable

-After that, if you really wanted to he would be willing to let you take on some missions of your own

-He would also compromise if his partner wanted to do very typical couple things

-Like he would get a matching jacket with you or something like that but he would not do anything with writing or graphics

-If you two are going to do something it will be done tastefully and hopefully in red

-Dante wouldn’t have many things he would not compromise on, if he truly wants to stay with you he will make it work and swallow his pride once in a while as long as you are willing to put the work in to meet him halfway

✭ Expectations

-He expects that you have life skills

-You would not need to be a pro at finance or a god in the kitchen but you would need to know how to live on your own

-Dante cannot always be there even though he wants to be and he does not want the additional worry that you are going to explode when he leaves

-His ideal partner would have their head screwed on, not perfect, but able to pick themselves back up when they get knocked down

-He also expects you to support him and be there for him

-There are times when he needs a shoulder to rest on and he would expect his partner to be willing to be that

✭ Must-Have Qualities

-Dante requires someone with a sense of humor

-You need to be able to laugh and understand his jokes

-You would also need to be a good listener

-He won’t talk your ear off but he needs you to remember what he tells you

-It would mean a lot to him if you remembered the small things too

-Being sociable/outgoing must be your personality type

-He needs someone who can go out into the world with him and interact

-Yes he enjoys spending time rotting on a couch with you but when you two are out he wants to show you off proudly

-Having you being confident and able to explore with him is a must

Vergil

✭ Ideal Partner

-Vergil needs a patient lover

-He is not socially inept but he is not extremely experienced in how to lead an average life and relationship

-Ideally, they would be willing to understand what he has been through and all that has shaped him into the man that he is today

-He is a loyal lover who needs someone that will stay with him through it all

-Someone resilient would fit him

-Again, like his brother, he is a grown man he does not have it in him to baby someone through life, you need to be able to stand on your own before he could settle down

✭ Deal Breakers

-He is not messing around

-No one-night stands, no FWB, he is going for the long-term

-It is end game or nothing with him

-If you could not take things seriously he would leave

-Vergil looks at life with seriousness he is not going to be with someone who continuously makes jokes every two seconds

-He is also looking for someone more submissive as in they will follow the decisions he makes without fighting him

-He is willing to take the time to explain why he made the decision but he will not take the time to go back and forth with you when he knows what the right thing to do is

✭ Compromises

-Vergil can be a little too serious at times and forgets to relax

-He wants to get things done the right way and will lose himself to his work

-Being with someone who can let loose and live would be a change in pace for him but he would be willing to compromise

-As long as everything is handled he could spend time with you having fun

-It is very hard for him to let go of his control as he wants to be constantly motivated However, learning to take a step back and take a breath is not going to throw all of his work out the window

-Once he sees that you could slowly work him up to the very mundane aspects of life like reading a book at the beach together

✭ Expectations

-He expects you to be willing to work with him

-As I have been saying, you need to be patient with him

-Vergil is willing to learn and change but he has his own problems he is working through

-Life has not been kind to him and he will be open about that so he would expect that you do not hold that against him

-Any mistakes he makes are not done to harm you, they are done because of a lack of experience

-He is not in tune with his emotions and has a hard time expressing his feelings as well as picking up on yours

-Hopefully, you would be able to work with this and understand where he is coming from

✭ Must-Have Qualities

-It cannot be stressed enough that he is looking for someone patient

-You do not have to be a saint he will be working with you as much as you are working with him

-He doesn't want you to give up on him

-Vergil is looking for someone who is level-headed, not over-emotional

-He just does not know how to be around someone who can fluctuate in emotions very quickly

-You would need to be intelligent, not like a genius, but able to understand directions and pick up on your surrounding

-He wants you to be a safe place for him so you being understanding and willing to take the time to get to know him means a lot

-It will take some time for Vergil to open up to you fully but once he does the man is locked into you and not going anywhere

Author’s Note: I really hope this is to your liking! I would love to hear what you think and if anyone has any opinions of their own! <3<3

I had a blast brainstorming this, thank you for sending in this request!

#dante #dante sparda #dante x reader #dmc dante #vergil #vergil sparda #vergil x reader #dante devil may cry #dmc vergil #request #reqs open #devil may cry 5 #devil may cry

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tremendum · 6 months ago

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Me and the Devil; iv

(not my gif)

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previous next series masterlist

word count: 9.5k i think

summary: "We've always known what the Harkonnens are. And yet, they sent me, happily, to marry the devil. To become one."

warnings: canon-typical violence, blood, incorrect lore probably, brief allusion to blood kink (blink and you miss it), reader has some mommy issues and also some daddy issues, reader is also a bit of a diva buttttt thats ok shes grieving, height difference mention (Paul is taller than reader).

notes: back with chapter four! Thanks so much again you guys for all of the feedback, it's so so appreciated. I'm happy you're liking it!! this is very unedited. lmk what you think :)

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My Dear Niece,

I hope this message finds you in good health and spirits, despite the trying times you have endured. It has been far too long since we last spoke, and I have often found myself thinking of you and wondering how you are faring - but I am hopeful that Caladan will be more forgiving with message deliveries.

First and foremost, allow me to offer my condolences. I cannot begin to imagine the pain and sorrow you must have experienced in the wake of the tragedy that befell your family at the hands of those beasts. To have been thrust into the midst of such turmoil and danger, surrounded by those who brought about such devastation, must have been unimaginably difficult.

I write to you also with a sincere and heartfelt congratulations on your recent betrothal to Paul Atreides. While I understand that this union may have come as a surprise, I have every confidence that you will make a splendid bride and wife. Duke Leto is a noble and honorable man, and I have no doubt that his son is the very same. I know that he will cherish and protect you with all his heart.

Please know that you are not alone in your sorrow, my dear niece. Though distance may separate us, if ever you feel the need for comfort or companionship, know that our home is always open to you. You are welcome to visit whenever you please, and I would be honored to meet your new husband and welcome him into our family.

In the meantime, I hope this message finds you well and brings some small measure of comfort to your troubled heart. You are a strong and resilient woman, my dear, and I have every confidence that you will emerge from this darkness stronger than ever before.

With all my love and affection,

Lady Ginaz

- Message sent to Lady Bourbon from the Lady Ginaz. 10191. Caladan.

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For the second time in his life, Paul is roused by his mother in the dead of the night.

When she insists he follow her, she wears a similarly grave face to the first time - spooked, uneasy. He was not given the grace to even find shoes this time before she grasped his bicep, pulling him along to her own quarters and through a hallway lit only by the full moon outside; Too tired to protest and still yawning at the curling tendrils of slumber, he drags his bare feet along the stone floor. Still blinking sleep from his eyes, a sense of dread fills him when he crosses into the dimly lit chamber at the end of the hall; an ornate chair placed in the center, and on sitting atop it is the imposing figure of the Reverend Mother.

Paul's heart clenches; his eyes are alert immediately.

Their previous encounter; searing pain, the Gom Jabbar - a test of his humanity. He struggles to conceal the rage that simmers beneath the surface, a bitter reminder of what he'd endured - and for no reason.

He should never have told his mother about the dreams.

Already knowing, but needing the affirmation, he clenches his jaw. "What's this?" He turns to ask his mother, whose stare is icy and less fearful than it was those years before. She doesn't respond, only nudges him forward, towards the woman in the center of the room.

As the Reverend Mother's piercing gaze meets his own, Paul squares his shoulders, steeling himself for what is to come; He'll have to tread carefully, lest he betray the depth of his emotions - or the truth about his dreams.

The Reverend Mother speaks, her voice a low, commanding tone that fills the room. "Tell me of your dreams, Paul Atreides," her eyes bore into his own. Paul hesitates for a moment, glaring to his mother- Lady Jessica nods subtly, her expression urging him to speak the truth; Anger courses through him, but he knows there is no choice for him now.

Summoning his courage, Paul begins to recount the vivid images that have haunted his nights.

Leaving out the details he suspects are less...important, he instead focuses on the more foreboding parts; The eerie familiarity of the clearing, the ceremonial sheet spread like a shroud. Ash falling from the sky, the missile streaks in the sky and the burning of the large pine; a shiver runs down his spine - the visions feel like a portent of doom, and it brings him to a hushed quiet.

"I've tried to make sense of them," His voice comes out just as frustrated as he feels, "But they're elusive. Fragmented. She's always there."

It seems he doesn't have to elaborate on who he's talking about - the woman's eyes flash before him from under her thick veil. She says nothing, but a sharp glance from his mother makes him clear his throat, confessing the dream his mother had woke him from not minutes ago.

"And in the last dream," Paul's jaw tightens, the memory of the vision burning bright in his mind, "I saw someone... stabbing me," he confesses, his voice barely above a whisper. "A black-hilted knife, with an engraved blade."

The words hang heavy in the air, sending a ripple of unease through the chamber. Paul can feel the weight of the Reverend Mother's scrutiny, her eyes boring into his soul as if searching for the truth buried within. He's not sure if his mother is making the connection; you've brought that knife with you nearly everywhere since you got it back. To him, it's inevitable.

The Reverend Mother's expression is unreadable as she absorbs his words. Paul braces himself for her response, knowing that what he's revealed may have far-reaching consequences; He cannot afford to hide the visions that plague his mind—not if what you said about Sabberon is true. The Reverend Mother regards him with a penetrating stare. "Interesting," she murmurs. "Your dreams hold great significance, Paul Atreides."

Paul's frustration boils to the surface as he listens to the Reverend Mother's cryptic response; He knows what she is capable of, he knows how powerful the Bene Gesserit are in the galaxy - yet his resentment grows and boils within him. Resisting a snarl, he glares sharply, trying to quell the anger, confusion.

"Significance?" Paul retorts, his voice laced with bitterness. "I will not be a pawn in your schemes," he declares, his voice ringing with conviction. "I am the heir to House Atreides. I will not allow my fate to be dictated by prophecy or visions."

His words echo in the chamber; Lady Jessica places a sharp hand on his shoulder, her sharp inhale bristling the hair on Paul's neck.

"Silence."

Whatever words of anger he was about to say halt on his tongue. Prickles of anger wash over him when he comes out of the quick haze; she dares use the Voice on him, yet again.

Her voice is harsh when it comes, eyes sharp as tiny beads behind the black of her dressing. "You are the heir to a great legacy, but with that inheritance comes duty. Tread carefully, Paul Atreides. The choices you make will shape the fate of many." These words are extremely discomforting; Once again he is filled with the spoilt disdain of their fanatic manipulations.

The Reverend Mother continues, her gaze steady and unwavering. "You possess a strength within you, a strength born of both blood and spirit; but true strength lies not in the wielding of power, but in the mastery of oneself. Trust in your instincts, but do not let them blind you."

He refuses to speak.

His mother is fearful behind him; he can feel it radiating off of her, and it fills him with even more indignation. His eyes pierce through her veil, waiting for her to finish. "You may go." She dismisses, and he has no problem turning heel, walking briskly to the door.

"Not you, Jessica."

Jaw clenching at the tone of disrespect the woman uses towards his mother, he almost turns around; but somewhere in his mind is a hazy insistence from his mother- urging him to leave them. He does, lingering to listen to the hushed whispers behind the closed door for only a moment.

"-with the girl, too.You must ensure they go down the right path."

He doesn't bother to stay and hear the rest of it.

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The clashing of blades chimes in your ears with surprise when you arrive for training in the late morning.

It's more common than not to find Duncan sitting, cleaning blades or stretching when you arrive for lessons, but today, it seems he and Paul are thoroughly engrossed in sparring and don't notice when you enter.

They move with that dance-like rhythm you grew up learning; one then the other - legs lunging, arms parrying and striking. They circle each other with cautious precision; Paul's movements are fluid and graceful, calculated - his proficiency comes as somewhat of a shock to you. With such a lithe, deft body, you'd assumed him little match for someone like Duncan. Perhaps, in your own vain perception, you'd expected him to have been meagerly gifted in the art of fighting, having been so well-endowed in the areas of strategy, politics, governance. Of course, you sigh. He's grown up here on Caladan - a Duke's son, trained to become a fair and mighty ruler one day. You suppose you shouldn't be so surprised, he's trained for it all his whole life.

You're sourly impressed as Paul matches him blow for blow, cheeks dusted with pink, barely a glean of sweat across his furrowed brow. A strike against Duncan hits unblocked; The older man, in turn, lets out a huff of laughter - pride flickers in his eyes as he watches Paul strike again.

It turns your blood to acid as you lean against the doorframe; waiting is becoming quite a drag. Duncan, watching Paul as if he were his own son; anger bites at your heels, pushing down the resentment you harbor. He couldn't have done anything when you were sent to Giedi Prime; rationally, you understand that, but the bitterness lingers, a reminder of the betrayal you felt at being abandoned to your fate years ago. There was a time years ago where you would spar with him like this in the weapons arena on Sabberon during the Harvest season- leaves falling red and yellow from their branches, the smell of roast and cider rising into the air.

Duncan's blade presses to Paul's side in a sudden move. Grunting, Paul can't seem to parry, and the blade is moments away from penetrating the shield and breaking through; God forbid he hurts that precious porcelain skin, You think. Briefly, as you watch the shield flicker red, you wonder how dark Paul's blood would flow. Feyd-Rautha's blood was so dark it was nearly black - a crimson color when it smeared across his skin; a tangy, sharp metallic taste when he'd pressed his bloodied fingers to your lips. You blink your eyes hard, pressing away the urge with a furrowed brow.

Your patience is gone, but luckily, Duncan seems to notice you first.

A spare glance in your direction as you linger in the entryway and he's fumbling - Paul takes the moment to strike, knocking Duncan to the ground with his blade pressed against his throat. Your brows raise.

With a wipe of sweat from his brow, Duncan's eyes skirt to the clock and he huffs, "Sorry, we must've lost track of the time." He mutters, taking Paul's extended hand. Paul nods at you in greeting; you nod back just as terse, ignoring the shocked look on Duncan's face at your appearance.

"It's fine. I believe I'm early." You reason, turning to walk towards the mat, avoiding eye contact. You can feel Duncan's stare on you; since you refused the veil from Hestia this morning, each person has looked at you the same - surprise, intrigue. You have to resist a snarl.

Paul, whose eyes flick to you then towards the weapons table, seems to be the only person this morning who hasn't stared at you as if you'd grown another head - but you're not fooled by his capacity to regard you simply as yourself this morning. Yesterday, he promised to never disrespect you; you suppose in turn, you will never disrespect him. That much will be given. But respecting someone is not the same as enjoying someone's company, and a moment of camaraderie is just a moment of weakness; You know he doesn't want this as much as you don't, but you will have to use this marriage as leverage if you ever want to make sure the Harkonnens stay off of Sabberon. And that means building trust.

Paul looks at you from the corner of his eyes for a moment before beginning to disinfect the blade he'd been using; Reaching to hold it out for you to take, you decline the offer.

Instead, your hand finds the hilt of your own blade, "No, thank you. I prefer to use my own."

Paul's eyes catch and linger on the blade; He blinks those long lashes a few times, as if deep in thought, before nodding. "Of course." He says, voice quiet as he turns. Duncan watches with disinterest, sipping on a cup of water as Paul brushes past you, giving you a tight-lipped, emotionless smile.

It's not until he's gone that you turn your stare to Duncan Idaho.

"He fights like you," You observe, beginning to stretch; if it's instigative, let it be.

Duncan's brow raises, "That's a good thing." He retorts, running a finger over the blade Paul had set down. You roll your eyes, concealing it by unsheathing your blade to begin sharpening it.

You can feel his stare. you know Duncan - he's not going to come out and say it, given how you've received his presence since arriving on Caladan; Instead, you beat him to it, turning to meet his eyes. "Did you expect me to be bald under the veil?" You ask, lifting a brow, "I lived there long enough, didn't I?"

He holds his hands up defensively, "I didn't say anything." He's right; you're acting up. Acting out. Probably both. You send him a look, "You didn't have to." You feel a defensive streak kick in yourself, considering what you'd learned about your own heritage by Paul yesterday. You'd been embarrassed in front of him - not knowing your own House's marriage traditions, or even the correct mourning phases? You looked like a fool.

He shakes his head. "You just... you've gotten older. You look like your mother." A pain that you've been holding down surfaces, striking you in the small gap your wall had built around your heart; guilt of survival, anger at your mother and all she'd done, everything shatters. You glare, throwing your knife onto the table in front of you.

"Don't speak to me of any of them, Duncan Idaho." You snap, eyes burning with emotion. "I was never prepared to be the last Bourbon alive, but now there's nobody left to witness my traditions being broken but myself." You say coldly, "I'm done with the veils and the gowns; I'm barely a Bourbon at all anymore. I didn't even know there were traditions until my betrothed informed me of them." Your voice is venomous; You can tell Duncan is preparing himself for a fight of words and not blades as he walks towards you.

"You've always been a fighter, my lady," Duncan chooses, his tone filled with respect; you can't help but hear the voice of someone who is approaching a cornered hound. "But you don't have to face it all alone."

Astounded, you almost laugh. "Really?" You snap, "Then where were you?"

You knew it would boil over at some point; By the look on his face, he knew it too.

Hands shaking, you take a shaky breath, "I was there with them - with him - for four years. Four years." You say, heart thundering, "Not one single fucking check-in, no visit, nothing. Nobody batted an eye when my messages stopped delivering, when there was never a wedding?"

You're not finished; the floodgates open, you're at your own mercy to stop and you can't help but continue. "-They had to have known what kind of monsters they'd shipped me off to, right? We were allies with the Atreides for centuries; we've always known what the Harkonnens are."

You laugh mirthlessly, "And yet, they sent me, happily, to marry the devil. To become one." You're breathing hard, hands shaking - the room feels hot and you can't seem to catch your breath. "-And I know, Duncan. I know that your hands were tied." You sigh, pressing your hands to your cheeks to soothe the heat. Thankfully, no tears fall. "I don't blame you, really, but- you're the only person left to be angry towards." Your voice cracks as you look down, shame burning on your face.

Duncan's expression softens, his gaze filled with regret and remorse. "I'm sorry for everything you lost, my lady." he says, his voice heavy; You resist the urge to pull him into an embrace, to feel the warmth of someone else and feel safe for the first time in so long. Instead you stand, barren and alone, in the middle of the floor.

"I should have been there for you - they should have, too."

It strikes a bout of guilt in you to make him admit something so ugly when you know he is grieving their loss just as you are. "They should have done something to help you. It's okay to still be angry with them, what they did to you, even if you're mourning them."

His words cut through the haze of anger and pain and you're stuck with an exhaustion - one that comes from the years of neglect and abandonment. You look down at the ground; perhaps it won't hurt to have someone on your side, someone you trust. It's been a dangerous and lonely several years, and you're tired of always trying to watch your own back. Clearing your throat, you nod. "I'm sorry, Duncan." You utter, looking up at him squarely. "I shouldn't have treated you coldly. I haven't been taking this change well at all." You confess.

He gives you a look, shaking his head, "There is nothing for you to apologize for, Little Bourbon." At the shadow of a smile on your face, he grins; He's always known what will cheer you up - tossing you your blade from where it sat on the table, he squares himself. You catch it deftly, rolling your neck and squaring yourself, thankful for the end of such a vulnerable moment.

The sound of footsteps disrupts you. You crane your neck behind you; A soldier walks through the room, but instead of addressing Duncan after bowing to you, he speaks to you.

"My lady." He starts. You raise a brow in question. "The Lady Jessica wishes to speak with you over lunch in her quarters now, if you have a moment."

You grit your teeth, a shot of uncertainty flooding you. You've yet to dine with her on your own yet - something about her sets you on edge, and you'd really prefer to spar to take your mind off of everything.

But you know better than to refuse the lady of the house's wishes.

"And spoil my fun here?" You ask, voice dry. "Alright."

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Lunch is barely picked at before Lady Jessica brings it up.

When she speaks, your eyes meet hers - less stony than usual, she regards you with an interest in her eyes that you've yet to see before. "You were once on the path of the Bene Gesserit," Lady Jessica starts, her voice tinged with empathy; You try to hide the set of your jaw, looking away briefly.

"Circumstances may have led you away, but your training has not been forgotten." She adds. You suspected this would be one of the reasons she called you in. "Yes, my lady," You affirm, setting down your fork; you send her a tight-lipped smile. "I trained when I was younger."

She nods, "Have you considered continuing this path? Honing your skills once more—to strengthen your voice, your intuition, your presence."

You take the moment she gives you to consider it; of course, you've thought of it now and then. But you have, to put it lightly, a very conflicted past with the Sisterhood, one that you prefer not to relive; Your mother's stern visage, relentless training regimens appear in your mind. Countless hours in rigorous physical and mental exercises - pressure to conform to their strict teachings weighing too heavily upon you and all three of your sisters' shoulders.

There's a part of you that can't help the twinge of curiosity that sparks through you; The allure of such an ancient order, unlocking hidden potential, the possibility of power and mastery of certain skills. It sounds glamorous, but you know better- you saw what kind of mistrust it sewed in your own house; The crack between your father and his court on behalf of your mother and the sisterhood, the loss of thousands of years of tradition.

Your lips open, and they feel suddenly very chapped. "I'm... not sure, my lady." You say honestly, blinking down at the unappetizing food below you.

"I understand your hesitations," she continues, voice earnest, "but given the current circumstances, it may be wise to strengthen all of your skills, including those you learned with the Bene Gesserit. It's imperative to ere on the side of caution."

"Circumstances?" You parrot, tilting your head. You know what she's implying; it doesn't ease the suspicion that rises, the feeling that the strings which tie themselves to Lady Jessica's limbs and lips are being pulled from much higher above your head; high enough to have actual, galactic implications. It is keenly upsetting.

"Yes, my dear." She begins, taking a sip of water, back straight; she doesn't bother to elaborate for you, and a tinge of irritation courses through you. "Tell me," She says, stirring the tea in front of her, "Even after your time with the sisterhood, did you ever experience visions? Dreams that stayed with you long after you woke?"

Your throat dries so quick you almost cough. Cheeks heating up, your eyes lock with hers; so it was a look of importance at the strategy council yesterday. It seems Lady Jessica has been keeping close tabs on you, after all. You hope she cannot read your mind thoroughly, for she would likely not enjoy what your dreams entail.

"You seem to already know my answer." You say, voice chilly in the warm room. Lady Jessica's lips press together. "Indeed," she affirms; gentle, yet probing. "But I need to hear it from you."

You pause, grappling with the memories that surge forth at Lady Jessica's inquiry; The dreams, the visions—they haunt you, asleep or awake - and despite your reluctance to acknowledge them, they have persisted, lingering like a shadow upon your consciousness. Swallowing against the dryness of your throat, you gather your thoughts before speaking.

"Yes," you admit, your voice barely above a whisper. "I have."

Lady Jessica nods. "I suspected as much," she murmurs, her eyes reflecting a depth that is distinctly familiar. "These dreams may hold greater significance than you realize, dear. They may be the key to understanding the path that lies before you."

Her words hang in the air, pregnant with meaning and yet still exasperatingly cryptic; You are, in your silence, forced to acknowledge for the first times that these dreams - they are a calling, a beckoning towards something that you cannot ignore. You feel the soreness of your jaw and will your teeth to unclench.

Lady Jessica continues, murmuring your name firmly, "I urge you to consider resuming your training with the Bene Gesserit. Not out of obligation, but out of necessity. In times of uncertainty, it is essential to be prepared."

You meet Lady Jessica's gaze; despite your reservations, despite the ghosts of the past, you know that finding your studies again might be effective; the potential you will have with the skills and power of the Bene Gesserit are undeniable, but the pause you feel is very strong. There is something bizarre about the timing, about the whole interaction. To use raw power is to make yourself infinitely vulnerable to greater powers, you remember your mother saying years ago.

With a nod of affirmation, you square your shoulders. "I will consider it, my lady," you respond, meeting her gaze, "Thank you for your guidance."

Lady Jessica offers you a reassuring smile, one which does little to quell the raging in your stomach.

"You're stronger than you realize, my lady."

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It is past dark when Paul finally exits his mother's quarters.

Exhausted and overwhelmed, he lets his feet drag across the floor on his way back, thinking quite fondly of his bed and pillow, of the warmth of his sheets.

His stomach growls - his normally ravenous appetite has eluded him all day since this morning; The visit from the Reverend Mother earlier in the day had left him teetering on the edge. Admittedly, she is as commanding as she is disfavored by Paul; yet it was his mother's reaction that troubles him the most.

The last few hours, sparring on knife skills, were spent tense; He, upon entering the room, had asked nearly immediately what the Reverend Mother had told her when he was dismissed earlier in the morning, yet she remained silent and instructed him not to question it. Whispering, quiet and serious: He would find out in due time.

Lost in thought, Paul quickens his pace, his footsteps echoing down the dimly lit hallway; The weight of dual weapons training today has set his muscles to ache and groan with each step, mind not too far behind body - the sooner he is in bed, the better.

But as he rounds a corner, Paul nearly hits someone - you, in fact.

Blinking in shock, for a moment your eyes meet; nothing happens. You've stepped back slightly, seemingly just as startled as he - you're just perfectly positioned in the hall that the dim lights reflect on your clothes and you look warm, comfortable; So unlike yourself in the daylight.

"Apologies, my lady," Paul offers, his voice tight with tension as he inclines his head in a respectful nod, gaze flickering down the hall you both seemingly planned on walking down. Truthfully, he is not in the mood to speak to anyone, in particular you after the uneasy sight of your knife, hilt catching the reflection of the lights beside you.

You return the gesture, expression signaturely guarded as you mutter, "No harm done, my lord."

He clears his throat; Though your hair looks nice and your skin healthy, you look quite tired - he's not sure when he'll get used to seeing your face.

"I was just heading-" He gestures down the hall, and you nod stiffly, "So was I."

And so you fall into stride alongside him, watching the walls pass as you both take a slower pace than either of you would likely prefer. Perhaps, in an ordinary world, he would feel giddy to walk his prospective wife to her quarters after a long day; but this world is not ordinary, and he's still getting used to treating you as less as a threat and more of an ally.

A large window passes on his right, illuminating your figure in silvery light before hushing you back into the shadows again. He wonders what the moons are like on Sabberon.

He doesn't expect you to speak; in fact, he himself has no plans to. Yet after a few minutes your voice comes hesitantly and with the tranquility of a sleeping cat.

"I had lunch with your mother today."

Alarm bells sound in his head; He certainly did not expect that. When he turns to look at you, he finds you already staring up at him; perhaps you're gaging his reaction to this information - he doesn't try hard to hide his displeasure.

"What did she tell you?" He asks before he can stop himself.

You give him an inquisitive look, lifting a brow. "Why do you assume she had things to tell?" You rebut. His shoulders relax ever so slightly as he sighs, slowing his pace as you near his door.

He doesn't respond, yet something in his features must convince you to start again, to be less facetious in your words; You set your jaw as you look away and back to him.

"She wants me to take up Bene Gesserit training again." You say, eyes narrow as you gaze at him - cold, scrutinizing - perhaps to once again see his reaction. His nostrils flare; This must be what the Reverend Mother instructed his mother to do - to ensure you are going down the right paths. Why though, he is still unsure.

"She asked about your dreams, didn't she?" He asks; this time, it's Paul who watches your face for a reaction - and he gets one. Your eyes blink in shock as you nod stiffly. "Yes, she- how do you know this?" You ask, hand grabbing his elbow as you both slow to a stop.

There's a bout of silence, in which he debates nearly everything; muscles aching, he wishes to just go to sleep - but your eyes hold an alarm in them that makes him hesitate.

Opening his mouth to speak, Paul stares down at you; If what the Reverend Mother was saying is true, then you might truly be as dangerous as he'd thought. But he knows what their order is like - all in the way of maintaining power. A faint echo down the hall of someone makes his eyes snap away from your heavy stare; Perhaps the hallway is not an appropriate place for such a conversation. "We shouldn't be speaking of this here," He glances at you, "Would you come in?" He asks. He opens the door that leads to his quarters. You stare at him for a moment, as if surprised - but with a glance around, it seems you decide the coast is clear, and you slip in past where he holds to door ajar with his arm.

You walk less assured than usual in the unfamiliar territory; he knows you've been active in your time here in the castle, but this is certainly one part of the fort you have not yet seen. A guiding hand presses your back as he quickens his pace, hoping to get this over with swiftly as he leads you to his bed chamber; though your back tenses, you do not push him away.

You repose on the chair but Paul is restless, standing in front of your expectant gaze.

"Paul," You start, leaning forward; It's with a startle that he registers your use of his first name - a tone which provides no warmth but a hint of anxiety as you look up at him. "If we are to do this together, we need to build trust." You start, and he knows you're right. This - marriage, ruling Caladan, representing the House Atreides - and whatever else is to come.

"Just tell me. How concerned do I need to be?" You ask; this was not what he'd thought you would say, and it takes him a second to think of anything to respond with. The truth is a thousand pieces scattered through dust and sand, and he cannot stop slipping through it.

"I don't know." He says, candor dripping through his exasperation. "I was visited by the Reverend Mother this morning." He admits, relief finding his shoulders. If you are to be by his side in the upcoming months, you'll surely learn of all of this sooner or later; It's better to come from him than elsewhere.

Your face darkens slightly at the mention and you raise a brow.

"What did she want with you?" You ask.

"I've been having dreams." He admits to yet another person he'd rather not; "Dreams about... Sabberon. In them, I feel like..." He exhales, "I feel like I have to go there. I'm meant to." He finishes, not wishing to delve any further into what the dreams entail. You look completely shocked, though; ghostly, uneasy.

He has no answers and so instead he tells you most of what he knows; Your expression turns more grim as he continues, describing his interaction with the Reverend Mother that morning. Your eyes flick to his in shock when he mentions the previous meeting with her years prior.

"The Gom Jabbar?" You say suddenly, sitting up straighter. He nods, "Yes. It was a test-"

"-No, I know what it is. I also received it." you swallow, brows furrowing. "But I don't understand why she would give it to you."

A deep, pregnant pause in the room, where Paul debates what he's about to say. Knowledge is a weapon and a burden.

"My mother has trained me in the ways of the Bene Gesserit too."

Your face morphs for only a moment as you stare at him in disbelief. Schooling yourself, you're quieted by this revelation; Paul waits patiently for you to respond. You gather your thoughts within a few moments.

"She warned me," You say, eyes swimming through his; he feels scrutinized under your intense stare. "She said that continuing as Bene Gesserit is not out of obligation but necessity." You add, "That continuing is the key to understanding the path that lies before me. That dreams could have more meaning than we think."

His stomach drops that the phrasing. You must ensure they go down the right path. That manipulative crone; playing you, his mother, and him all as she wants for the benefit of her sisterhood. Fury boils within him, but he knows what you need is an explanation. "There's a prophecy that my mother mentioned to my father once. I was young, eavesdropping-" He shakes off the sly look you give him at this, his cheeks heating up, "- and I didn't hear all of it, but I heard parts."

He's not sure how else to piece it together than to just tell you everything he's thinking. "When the Reverend Mother administered the Gom Jabbar, she told my mother there would be two candidates for something. That I may be one of them. Today, she told me to trust my dreams, that they may be the key to unlocking something important. Which is... troubling."

The bitter laugh you let out surprises him, and he lowers himself to sit on the chaise longue beside yours. "Troubling." You mutter, shaking your head. It's the exact thing Lady Jessica implied with you.

"I'm not sure if it means anything," Your tone suggests otherwise, "but I have also been having dreams about Sabberon." You admit - his eyes snake to yours, hands clenched together; stomach dropping, dread fills him. He worried this, too; having the same dreams, however alike or different they may be, are foreboding.

"-On a mountain I do not recognize. My house has a sacred Pine, you know? It represents the Harvest. I dream that I'm there... with you." You let out a sigh, and Paul swears he hears it shake. "I haven't told anybody, not even your mother." Your eyes are sharp - fearful, he realizes.

For a beat, he feels less alone. Another soul, trapped in this web of visions and politics and power; He's sympathizing with you, a foreign and unexpected emotion. Paul is starting to nurse a sharp headache; closing his eyes, he exhales and nods, "You're there in my dreams, too." He admits.

The two of you sit, then; Paul, slumped with consternation and you, back rigid with stress.

A moment of silence in which Paul is overthinking and you likely are too.

"Do you trust her?" You ask; A foolish thing to ask one of one's mother - yet his hesitation shocks not just you, but himself as well.

He starts hesitantly. "I believe that she loves me and my father, and by extension, she cares for you." He is well-aware of the vagueness behind his words. He licks his lips, "I know that the sisterhood instructed her to have a daughter. But instead, for my father, she bore him a son. The Reverend Mother is still unhappy about it."

You stare, but you say nothing. Uneasy with the intensity of your attention, he plays with a spare thread poking from the chaise longue. "This morning, I overheard the Reverend Mother telling my mother to ensure we are on the right path. Both of us."

You, sharp as ever, nod thoughtfully, "Which is why she decided so abruptly to offer for me to train again."

He nods in affirmation, biting his lip; a bad stress habit, one he got from his father. Your voice is almost dreamy as it comes out, his eyes staring off at the small bull figurine that sits on his table. You ask, "How do we know which path is the right one?"

He laughs bitterly, shaking his head as he stares ahead. He has no clue. "I wish I had an answer," he admits, his voice tinged with frustration. "All we can do is trust our instincts, but even then, there are no guarantees. Not if we don't believe them."

You nod in understanding, a solemn but signature expression painting your features. "It's a heavy burden to bear," you remark softly, your voice echoing his sentiments; Heavy, yes. But you seem used to burdens. "All things are known because we want to believe in them." You say. He perks up, looking at you; That's something his mother has said during skills training training before - but in your voice, now, next to him - it sounds much different.

Weary and exhausted, Paul sighs. "Perhaps if I'd had a sister, this wouldn't be happening."

You snort softly from your nose, a gentle exhale that is becoming quite familiar to his ears. "I had three. They were a handful." You say, hugging yourself.

He hums. For a moment, he can almost picture it; You, ten years smaller, just a young teen - fighting in a snow field with three sisters, a little boy chasing after you. He almost hears your screams when your younger sister jumps into a half-frozen lake, the water green as emeralds against the white fields and evergreens in the distance. The laughter that leaves you as you plunge, dress and all, into the icy depths besides her and pull your sisters with you; Handmaids wearing furs and soldiers boasting roaring wolf armor run to fish you out. They almost feel real. "What was it like, growing up with siblings?" he asks, seeking to reciprocate the gesture of openness that you've surrendered in the dark.

Your demeanor shifts slightly, your guard momentarily lowering as you reflect on your upbringing. "It was...complicated," your voice is contemplative, small. "We were close in some ways, but distant in others. There was always a sense of competition between us even when we were young, especially between me and my sisters. My mother was Bene Gesserit and was very strict."

He's studied so much about Sabberon, learned about your House's old customs and traditions - but yet, he realizes how little he truly knows about you; A pang of guilt washes over him for his previous assumptions and judgments.

Your boots look foreign against the rug on his bed chamber floor as you drag the tip of one. "They were like having built-in friends." You acquiesce, "They made me laugh all the time."

It's hard for Paul to picture you joking or laughing at all. "I don't have siblings," He states - obviously - "but I've always wanted to be a brother."

He knows the bittersweet territory he's crossed, and does not wish to upset you or remind you of all you have lost. But instead, you just send him a kind smile; one that's almost shy. "You'd be a good one." Your eyes are nostalgic and sincere; he has to look away.

Clearing his throat, he notices your hands as they sit in your lap. "It looks better," He says, nodding to your hand, where the sting had been reduced to a mere blemish. You smile, a sheepish thing, but it still brightens Paul's dark room. "I thought you'd been tricking me." You admit, face flushed as he lifts a brow, "Trying to make me look foolish."

He hums at this, tilting his head. "I assumed you'd thought I was trying to poison you." He admits, smiling just as sheepishly. Speaking with you feels surprisingly relieving - perhaps he is more tired than he thought.

"The possibility did cross my mind." Your voice, keenly serious, makes him chuckle slightly. He shakes his head, "I wouldn't have tricked you. I know how bad those crabs sting." He recalls one day lathering the chewed root onto his toe, fighting tears as his father watched with an amused sternness. If you disrespect them, he'd said, they'll disrespect you.

"I was considering amputating my hand before you showed up." Another attempt at a joke, from you? You're opening up; despite himself, he grins. Your eyes are deep - under the dim lighting, they shine in a way he hadn't expected; staring, he loses his track of thought. You seem to have as well, clearing your throat awkwardly.

"Is this your book?" You ask suddenly, rising to pad over towards his bedside, tilting your head to run your spine over the book that sits, embarrassingly, on his bedside table. The Noble Lineage: Exploring the Customs and Cultures of the Houses Major of Landsraad: House Bourbon. He nods, "If you'd like to read it, help yourself."

Craning your neck back you look at him, lifting a brow, "Is it interesting?"

For a second, he stares, unsure what to say - it dawns on him that you're teasing, and he cracks a small smile. Odd as it is to see a woman who was a mere shell open up, he's glad to have the priviledge of your trust, no matter how small or weak it may be.

"Haven't decided yet." He retorts, the feeling foreign.

"Maybe I will borrow it, then." You muse, "Perhaps it'll finally be the thing to lull me to sleep."

He stands to meet you; three steps over and he stands before you, taking in - not for the first time - your height and how your neck moves to look into his eyes. "You should get some rest if you can tonight." He agrees, "We've got to be at the Strategy Council tomorrow morning."

You nod, clearing your throat, "Oh- Yes, apologies." You sigh, "It's been a long day."

He hadn't meant to insinuate you should leave, but as he escorts you to the main hall, his eyes are drooping. Mercifully, though he tries to, you insist he need not walk you to your room.

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Alone back in his room, he stares at the book; Despite the barriers that still exist between he and you, there's a shared humanity that binds you together— funny enough that fear and reluctance is the thing that has made him realize such an obvious sentiment. He falls asleep and dreams within minutes.

You return to your chambers, the warmth of the last few minutes wearing off of you slower than molasses.

Alone, you are left with haunting thoughts; What do the Bene Gesserit have in store for you if you do choose to continue? Looming further is the prospect of galactic war should the Harkonnens leverage their petroleum reserves. The implications of you and Paul's shared visions; despite yourself, your cheeks flush with heat - how similar are these dreams of yours...?

And Paul - his eyes are very green.

He keeps his room neater than you'd thought - and with a bit of shock you'd seen all of the books on planets, flora and fauna, biology, culture. You secretly wished you could have observed them all closer - there were ones you've never heard of, and even one that had struck you right in the chest - Giedi Prime. Their culture was horror, after all.

You shake off the warm feeling of conversation - though the subject had left you on edge, it was terribly reassuring to have someone who not only you could speak freely with about your dreams and the Bene Gesserit, but who seems to hold similar opinions as you. Emotional whiplash has given you a staunch headache - you still believe that respecting someone is not the same as enjoying someone's company... but perhaps it doesn't always have to be mutually exclusive.

You sigh, rubbing your eyes; you can't get the smell of his bedroom off your clothes. You change into your robe. Before drifting to sleep, you catch sight of your bureau, the daunting metal that stares at you gleaming from across the room.

Yawning, you pad over to it.

The message remains on your desk, where it's been since being delivered a few days ago. You'd read it already, yes - read, cried, raged, and accepted it. Now, you suppose, it is time to respond. And in due time, it's finished.

My Dearest Aunt Ginaz,

Your letter arrived at a very uncertain time for me and for that, I am profoundly grateful. I apologize for the delayed response, it has been quite an adjustment for me after leaving Giedi Prime; Before that, as you've suspected, my keepers preferred I did not receive or send messages. There wasn't a day that passed where I didn't wish to read them.

For my betrothal to Paul Atreides, your kind words of congratulations reassure me; Truthfully, the prospect of marrying into such a noble family is daunting, yet they have been quick to assure I have felt welcomed. It is a sharp change from my previous engagement.

The loss of my family continues to weigh heavily upon my heart, and there are days when the pain feels unbearable. Yet, every day I am learning to live again. I can walk to the sea - the sea, which I have never before seen in my life. I spend my days educating, training with Swordmaster and your old friend Duncan Idaho, and have begun to sit in on the Duke's Strategy Councils. I believe I will live well here.

The final arraignment at the referendum is nearing, and I wonder if you will be attending alongside Lord Ginaz - Even if you are not able to attend, I will face the challenges that lie ahead knowing I have you on my side.

Your offer of sanctuary is a gift beyond measure, and I cannot express how much it means to me. I long for the day when we can be reunited and I might hear more of your life. In the meantime, know that I am safe and well, and that I carry your love and affection with me always.

With all my gratitude,

Your loving Niece

You almost feel guilty for the lies you've woven through your message - though not explicit, they are little and white and still deceiving. Your mother's bastarded sister, who succeeded your mother's parents when they died, inherited the noble last name as one of her father's dying wishes. They'd had several daughters - all married off to other houses, like your mother - and she had been left to learn to run the Swordmaster School. She now rules over their house with her husband, who took the name Ginaz when they wed.

You smirk, thinking of this: Paul Bourbon - it has a poor ring to it, you decide, wiping away the thought before it can blossom. You blink deliriously, knowing you are in acute need of sleep, and sigh.

You'll have Hestia send the message out in the morning; for now, all you can do is try not to dream as you curl up on your bed, eyes heavy with the weight of the day.

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You know you're dreaming this time.

The clouds are too fluffy, sounds muted as if you'd stuffed cotton into your ear canals. The hands that are on you are Paul's, you know this. But you're not embracing, no - there is no pleasure; his hands are slippery against your flesh and you're gasping in pain, gasping for breath. You are bleeding.

Or, is that his blood?

You squint, trying to find the ground, but all you see is the hilt of your nameday blade glinting in the sun, blood dripping from the tip. Who wields it? You let out a short groan, filled with pain - Paul leans against you, his weight heavy. The air is heavy with snow - no, not snow, ash. Ash that rains from the sky in flurries, fighter ships booming above your heads.

Another flash of your knife, this time in a hand. Gasping,Your hand comes away from your own abdomen, tainted black - black as the sun you once lived under.

"Hello?" A fuzzy voice, laced with pain, but you could pick it out of millions. You look into his eyes and see green; hands cup your cheeks, staining handprints over your trembling skin. An explosion somewhere in the distance -

"Paul." You breathe, fear lacing every fiber of you. You're dreaming, you're dreaming. You can't breathe.

But then, Paul's face changes - a sickening recognition flickers over his features when you speak, and something shifts. There is something wrong; He says your name as if he's surprised to see you, as if... as if you were in the wrong dream.

He looks down, as if expecting to see something between the two of you. But with his head tilted down, you squint, just barely making out the glint of another figure; glowing skin, sickeningly pale. A black smile.

There is someone behind Paul, and he is holding your knife.

It has the blood of your husband on it.

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follow @tremendumnotifs for updates.

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#paul atreides x reader smut #paul atreides x reader #paul atreides smut #paul atreides x you #paul x reader #feyd rautha smut #feyd rautha x reader #feyd x reader #feyd smut #feyd rautha #dune smut #dune fanfiction

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nolita-fairytale · 1 year ago

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burn your life down | chef luca x fem!reader | chapter eight

summary: you and luca pick up where you left off a week ago.

warnings: fluff, smut (18+ only), literally just p*rn FOR the plot. big note on consent: there is protected (then sort of) unprotected sex in this chapter. the biggest point i'd like to make here is that both characters consent to both kinds and have a very open and honest conversation about it which, if you take away anything from this chapter, it's PLEASE HAVE HONEST CONVERSATIONS WITH THE PEOPLE YOU'RE SLEEPING WITH FOR EVERYONE'S SAFETY. ok rant over.

word count: 4.9k

listen to: the official 'burn your life down' playlist

a/n: another busy week ahead of me so I wanted to get this out here ASAP, but most likely won't be able to get the following chapter out for a bit. obviously, we don't know what happens w/ marcus' mom, but in this world, she doesn't die opening night of The Bear.

on another note: you guys are seriously the best and leave the sweetest and most excited comments/reblogs. i seriously love it when you guys scream at me in gifs/memes/all caps. let me know if you'd like to be added or removed from the taglist.

part seven | masterlist | part nine

“Yeah uh, everything’s been goin’ good. I think Carm’s still trying to deal with everything that happened since opening – I don’t know if you heard but – but… it’s been good,” Marcus says over his FaceTime call with his mentor.

“No, I hadn’t. Eh, haven’t talked to him much since before you visited,” Luca answers, hesitant to ask about what happened during that first night.

“Got locked in the fridge and kinda lost it but… he’s doin’ okay,” Marcus explains, summing up the events of The Bear’s friends and family night.

“How are you doing? How’s your mum?” Luca asks, changing the subject from Carmen to his mentee.

He’s had more contact with Marcus – knows more of what’s going on in Marcus’ life than Carmen’s for a bit now – and Luca wants to make sure he’s being a good friend to him, considering he’d heard about Marcus’ mom’s emergency the night of The Bear’s friends and family night.

“She’s hangin’ on but… it’s not lookin’ great. It’s hard, man. I’m… doin’ the best I can,” Marcus admits, solemnly.

“I can only imagine,” Luca empathizes, because he can’t bear the thought of losing his own mum.

“But uh… anyways, what’s up? What’s new with you?” Marcus asks, his voice much more energetic from the prospect of changing the subject.

“You sure you want to hear about me?” Luca hesitates cautiously.

“Yeah, man,” Marcus agrees. Luca can hear something so sure in his voice, as if Marcus is in dire need of a distraction – to talk about anything but his sick mom. “Shit. I’d love to hear about someone else’s drama for once,”

Luca chuckles softly, his voice light as he replies, “No drama on my end. Though. Ehm… I met a girl. I actually kinda have you to thank for it, mate.”

“What do you mean?” Marcus questions.

“Well. All that talk about inspiration…” Luca says, thinking about how what he’s just makes sense.

“... you know, about being open to things outside the kitchen…. After you left, it made me realize that it’d be a while since I’d taken my own advice. Got stuck on a menu, went out for inspiration, and, well you know what they say: the rest is history.”

He knows it’s not as simple as that, but it seems like Marcus needs a little good news right now.

“Oh shit! How’s that going?” Marcus asks, his tone much lighter now.

“I’m positively chuffed, mate,” Luca chuckles, unable to hide the i’m-very-much-enamored smile that spreads across his face.

“The fuck does that even mean, man?” Marcus teases with a laugh at the oh-so-posh-sounding expression.

Luca laughs again before explaining, “It means I'm pretty damn smitten.”

“Shit,” Marcus sighs.

He can see it all over his face as he continues to see his mentor.

“You’re a goner, man.”

-------------------------------

Luca walks you home this Saturday evening after his regular dinner date at your restaurant. While you had a steady flow of business tonight, Mathilde and the rest of your kitchen staff made it a point to rally so that you could join him for a bit. It’s been a week since your unplanned sleepover with Luca (and your pleasantly surprising sexy morning after), and you haven’t stopped thinking about it.

Haven’t stopped thinking about him:

The way he called you ‘love.’ The way he watched you fall apart with the most pleased look on his face. The way his fingers felt inside of you.

“Luca,” you begin.

The two of you stand across from one another, at a crossroads. The night could end here. You could say your goodbyes, give him a goodnight kiss, and go your separate ways, but that’s far from the option you’d prefer.

“Yes, love?” he asks you, as if he’s waiting for you to ask first.

There it is again.

Love.

Your eyes flicker from the cobblestone streets then back up to him as you the words fall out of your mouth:

“Do you… wanna come up?”

Something flashes across Luca’s face as he opens mouth to say something, pausing for a moment before answering, as if it’s an agreement to what you’re really asking, an ever-so confident,

“Yes.”

You smile, take a breath, then grab his hand as you turn towards the door to your building. As Luca follows you, the only sound between the two of you are your footsteps as you make your way up the stairs. The tension between you is thick, the anticipation of what happens next palpable, that takes shape as a pregnant silence. Luca is more-than-patient as you unlock your door, welcoming him into your home once again, before locking your front door behind you. He’s busy removing his shoes as you giggle, taking yours off as well.

Once both of you are barefoot, you reach for him, pulling him towards you so that he towers over you, your back pressed against the front door once again.

“This feels… eerily familiar,” Luca jokes softly, so close to kissing you that it hurts.

“Yeah,” you agree, under your breath. This is exactly where he had you a week ago, before you both decided not to do the thing you were about to do. “Think you might wanna… pick up where we left off? Now that neither of us are plastered?”

Luca waits a beat, leaning in and ghosting his lips over yours, causing you to gasp in response to his teasing.

“Do you?” he asks, his voice steady.

He wants to know that you’re sure. Wants to know that you want this as much as him. That you haven’t stopped thinking about the other day when he watched you fall apart on his fingers and how it was the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen.

“Yes,” you answer, your voice unwavering.

He swears under his breath before his mouth is on yours, kissing you so deeply that your head spins. You make a mental note to tell him later how absolutely perfect his lips are – how deliciously plump they are, how they feel perfect against yours, how talented they are. You kiss him back, allowing him to steal the air from your lungs as he does it, crowding you up against your front door.

Your arms wrap around his neck, pulling him closer to you. You push your body against his, surprised at how steady his hands are, while yours feel so desperate, so frenzied, when he reaches for you.

His hands are all over you, leaving confident, strong touches all over your body: pulling you in closer to him by your hips, stroking up and down your back, sliding underneath the hem of your shirt like he’s already done this with you a thousand times before. With his hands already underneath your shirt, exploring new territory, and his mouth leaving a trail of wet kisses down your neck, his name leaves your lips like something between a sigh and a moan.

He hums in response, pulling back for a moment. Your heart skips as a beath, as blue eyes lock with yours in a heated, lust-filled standoff.

“Come with me,” you whisper, causing Luca to move aside, letting you lead him towards your bedroom.

On the way there, you flip a hallway light on so that you can at least see where you’re going. You feel his fingers tangle with yours as he grabs your hand, his heart pounding in his chest. As soon as you reach your bedroom, you sit him down on your neatly-made bed, before turning on a small, soft, golden lamp that feels like candlelight.

It’s just enough – more of a nightlight than a lamp, really.

You approach him without a word, and Luca marvels at you. You’re a sight for sore eyes: your hair messy from the heated makeout against your front door, your lips kiss-swollen from the fact that he can barely keep his hands, let alone his mouth off of you, your pupils blow wide with desire for him and only him. You pull your shirt over your head as you climb on to his lap, wrapping your arms around his neck as you press a searing kiss to his lips.

“My god,” he murmurs, his hands coming up to meet the newly exposed skin. You settle into his lap, pressing your hips against his, arching your back into him in response to each touch. “You are so incredibly beautiful.”

You giggle before thanking him.

“Yeah, and I know that you know you’re hot,” you tease him in between kisses, because the man must know what he looks like, right? Luca mutters something about how he wasn’t trying to solicit a compliment from you as he lays back on your bed, taking you with him.

His hands hungrily grab at exposed flesh: the sides of your back, your breasts, the straps of your bra, just to pull them down enough to think he’s going to take it off. Impatiently, you grind your hips against where a tent in his pants has begun to form, earning a moan from his lips as he bucks his hips up to meet your clothed core.

“We should um-,” you start, already so turned on by the way Luca’s body moves against yours that you think you should bring this up sooner rather than later. “Things we should talk about….”

“Yes, my love?” Luca asks, grinding against you again.

You moan in response, throwing your head back as you giggle, knowing that he’s teasing you – testing your patience.

You settle down, just for a moment, both hands going to his well-toned chest. Luca’s hands still around your hips as you say:

“I have condoms. In my nightstand. And I’m also on the pill. I… just got back on it.”

Just got back on it when you started seeing him – you know, just in case this became a thing.

“I haven’t been tested since my yearly physical which was… almost a year ago… but I also haven’t exactly been having sex so,” you add, your eyes flickering away for just a moment before returning to Luca’s very blue ones.

“That’s very sexy,” he smiles up at you, his hands softly stroking your hips.

“What?” you ask with a giggle, your teeth sinking into your bottom lip as you shoot him a quizzical look.

“This… very direct communication,” he replies with a smirk, grinding his hips back up into yours again.

“Luca!” you squeal in response, catching yourself against him so that you don’t lose your balance.

He grins before answering, “My last test was three months ago at my yearly physical. Clean bill of health.” He pauses before saying the next thing.

“And I’m not seeing anyone else.”

You nod, leaning down to kiss him in understanding, “Okay.”

“Okay,” he replies, bringing you down once more for another passionate makeout.

Luca is right. It’s an even bigger turn on, the open communication, and now that you’ve gotten that conversation out of the way, you’re ready to dive in head first to exactly where you hope this is going. Getting undressed is a sexy, dreamy blur. You’re practically tearing Luca’s shirt over his head, unable to hide the fact that your jaw is near-on the floor as you take it in the hard planes of his abdomen. He expertly removes your bra, and before you know it, he’s gotten you onto your back, and you’re kicking your pants off to the bottom of the bed.

Luca pins both of your hands to the bed overhead with one of his hands – his fingers laced with some of yours as he holds them in place – while his other hand once again makes its way between your legs. You gasp in anticipation, unable to stop the confession that comes out of your mouth.

“I haven’t stopped thinking about that. About you. All week,” you whisper, eager to have him touch you again.

“That so?” Luca asks cockily, in between kisses.

“Yes,” you gasp, squirming underneath your touch as two his fingers dance over your clothed core.

From the wetness pooling between your legs up to your clit, the way he touches you sets off sparks all over your body. You pant, unable to think straight as Luca pulls your pantied aside, his fingertips meeting your wetness immediately. He moans in response to this discovery, his forehead pressed against yours, and you cry out when he finally gives you what you’ve been begging for, as he slips a finger into you.

“Luca,” you sigh, like you’ve gotten the only thing that could remedy your restlessness as of late.

Luca kisses you again, his tongue slipping into your mouth for a millionth time tonight as he begins sliding his finger in and out of you.

“You’re so wet, love,” he coos, teasingly, into your mouth. “It’s too easy. The way my fingers slide in and out of you.” He pushes another finger into you, beginning to stretch you again at a deliciously slow pace. “You want me this much?”

And all you can do is moan, arch your back in response to the pleasure he brings you, his hand keeping both of yours above your head while he has you at his mercy.

“So good,” you cry, as you breathe heavily. “So good. It feels-. Fuck.”

He chuckles cruelly, breaking the kiss between you as he pulls his fingers from you. You whimper in response, impatiently, greedily. The man has you under a sexual spell and you could care less about anything else right now.

“I already know how you feel about my fingers. Think I should give you my mouth too, hm?” he rasps, his question anything but rhetorical.

Luca releases your hands that he’s pinned to the mattress, beginning to kiss down your jaw, your neck, your bare torso, pausing to take each of your nipples into his mouth, his tongue flickering across them like it’s a goddamn preview.

“I need to hear you say it,” he commands, his voice quiet yet dominant. Luca pauses, his journey south, leaving hot, open mouthed kisses across your belly as he looks up at you with piercing blue eyes.

“D’you want my mouth? Will you let me taste you?”

“Please,” you’re too quick, too eager to respond when you’re looking down at him, looking down at the sight before you.

Without hesitation, Luca tears your panties down your legs, impatiently tossing them behind him. He begins kissing the inside of your right thigh, alternating between soft kisses, and gentle love bites that have you squealing in delight. You let out soft moans in anticipation, sure that whatever happens next will bring you to an early grave.

A hiss in pleasure escapes your lips as you feel the heat of his breath fan over you, but before your brain can even catch up, Luca’s licking a broad stripe up your core, parting you open for him and only him.

You cry out, your head thrown back as he buries his face between your legs, tracing fierce abstract shapes over your clit. He moans against you, the vibrations too much as you surrender to him. He alternated between sucking and licking, and it’s not till he’s pushing two fingers back into you that your hands are grasping at the sheets, grabbing at the back of his head as your body writhes in pleasure.

You can feel it, that spark so deep in your belly, the coil that winds itself so tightly that the only thing it can do to relieve any tension is to snap.

“Luca. I’m gonna cum,” you beg him, a desperate whine in your voice. “Please don’t stop.”

He doesn’t. It’s as if he couldn’t bear the thought of it – like he could never be cruel enough to deny you what you’re asking for when your voice sounds so sweet, so desperate, so on fire for him.

Using his fingers and his mouth in tandem, he’s relentless in bringing you to your climax, so determined to keep his name on your lips with every gasp, moan, and exhale.

And god, does he love the way it sounds: when you’re moaning it, when you’re begging him not to stop, when you make it sound like a symphony – like he’s just created a goddamn masterpiece.

He’s left you breathless, and all you can do is breathe, allowing your brain to catch up with the pleasure your body has just experienced. Luca makes his way back up to you before pressing a searing kiss to your lips. You can taste yourself on his lips, and you have no intention of stopping now.

You can feel the weight of him as he folds his body over yours. Curious hands begin to move as you become more and more interested in exploring Luca’s body. His muscles flex underneath your fingertips as a reminder of the sheer strength of the man above you. Luca groans as you cup him over his pants, before you begin to undo his pants.

“Do you… want to grab a condom?” he asks softly.

You pause, your hands to meet his gaze with your own.

“Uh.. yeah,” you reply. You had every intention of returning the favor, but perhaps that’s something you’ll save for tomorrow. “Let me just um….”

You sit up, and Luca pulls back, kneeling on the bed as he finishes the job, undoing the button on his pants as you open your nightstand to grab a condom. You place the condom down on the bed next to you, before laying down, your legs spread enough so that Luca can settle between them as you watch him slide his pants and briefs down over his erection.

Holy. Shit.

The man’s an adonis.

And…

Well, you know you shouldn’t be surprised.

He’s 6’ 3” for godssake.

But as you see his cock standing tall, hard, precum leaking from the tip, you’re glad you’ve had quite the night of foreplay so far, especially since it’s been a while since you’ve taken a lover. Instead of hesitating, you sit up just for a moment so that you can pull him over you, pulling Luca down to you for a kiss. He’s quick to respond, using one tatted hand to cradle the back of your head, deepening the kiss as he lays over you once again.

Your right hand makes it way between you, beginning to stroke him, earning a hiss of pleasure from Luca as you wrap your hand around his thick length. He bucks into your hand and you stroke up and down his erection a few times before guiding him towards you, allowing him to use your slick as lubricant as the two of you grind against each.

You know you should do the responsible thing, but you can’t help wondering what it would feel like too. But there’s time for that. Another time for that…

As if he’s read your mind, Luca grabs the condom next to you, before sitting up. He carefully rips open the foil packet before tossing it somewhere on the floor, giving both hands the freedom to slide the latex over his hard on. And then he’s back on you, folding his body over yours as you make room for him between your legs, pressing the gentlest kiss to your lips.

“You sure you want to do this?” he asks, and you think you’ll melt with how damn considerate he is.

“Yes, baby,” you whisper back, it being the first time you’ve called him that. “Yes.”

With your ‘yes’ Luca reaches down, pressing his thick tip against your opening, then begins to push in. You both gasp at the contact as he holds your gaze, and you feel the slightest pinch as he stretches you open. Luca caresses the side of your face, watching you for any sign, any kind of reaction that you’d want to stop. He keeps his eyes on you, pushing deeper, and then deeper, till he bottoms out.

Leaning his forehead against yours as he pauses, he’s got to focus on not cumming right then and there.

“Fuck. You feel so fucking good,” he exhales, letting the way you feel take over him. You’re all warm, wet, pulsing heat and it feels too fucking good.

You give yourself a moment to adjust to his size, before beginning to give him a few experimental movements, grinding your hips where the two of you are connected. Without having to say a word, Luca understands, dragging his hard length out of you at an unbearably slow pace, before pushing back into you, eliciting moans from the both of you this time.

“Do that again,” you murmur, your eyes fluttering close and you focus on the delicious drag of his cock.

He does it again, this time thrusting a little bit harder into you, causing you to moan a little louder this time. His mouth is back on yours as he begins to set a rhythm, thrusting in and out of you while you meet his hips with yours, rocking against him at a pace that matches. It’s as if Luca’s begun to map out your body, wanting to memorize every little thing that makes you tick, that makes you scream, causes you to grasp at any grabbable surface – the sheets, his hair, his back.

His mouth is back on yours, swallowing your moans as he continues to fuck you. You’ve settled into a rhythm that feels just right – something that you can get completely lost in. It could be minutes, hours, days that you’ve been here, chasing mutual pleasure, wrapped up in each other’s arms like you need it to breathe. The way he moves against you is strong, yet gentle as Luca makes love to you, whispering the filthiest things into your mouth, into your ears, the soft canvas of your skin, as if he’s engraving them in stone.

You take me so well. So fucking pretty like this. My beautiful girl.

“Luca,” you gasp, as he gives you a particularly euphoric thrust.

“Hm?” he hums in response.

“Let me ride you,” you request, your eyelids heavy as he stays close to you.

“Yeah?” he asks you, one expressive eyebrow raising up.

“Yeah,” you nod.

Luca kisses you deeply before pausing, pulling out of you and rolling over onto his back. He thinks he’s died and gone to heaven as he watches you climb on top of him, your disheveled sex hair and desire to fuck him seem to awaken something primal in him. As you hover over him, your knees framing his hips, you line yourself up with him before taking him once again.

Luca groans, letting his hands trace gentle patterns up and down your body – his hands smooth over your ass and caress your breasts, as calloused fingertips drag across your stomach, your shoulders, your ribcage – as if he's writing a love letter against your skin.

“You’re so fucking beautiful,” he says, his voice low and gravelly.

He moans, closing his eyes as you begin moving your hips over him, forward and back, beginning to ride him like you’d asked to earlier. Large hands make their way to your hips, as you continue your movements, this time leaning down to kiss him. Luca moans into your mouth as your tongues tangle together, your hips never ceasing their grind against him.

It feels too good.

You feel too good.

You break the kiss this time, placing your hands on Luca’s chest for leverage as you begin to speed up your pace, letting out a moan as you fuck yourself on your lover. Back arched, hair messy, and your head thrown back, you’re completely lost in the way that he feels inside of you.

“Look at you,” Luca marvels, hands everywhere as you bring yourself closer to your second orgasm of the night. “My god, love.”

And before you know it, Luca’s sitting up, sitting tall, wrapping one of his long arms around your torso while the other braces against the bed behind him. He’s thrusting his hips up into you, his hand moving to the small of your back to keep you in perfect harmony with him. The way he hits the back of you with each thrust, how deep he is, how good it feels has you so, so close for the second time tonight. You cry out in response to a particularly hard thrust as your body slumps, resting your forehead against Luca’s shoulder.

You are no longer in control. It’s funny really – and sweet – that he let you think even for a second that you could be. But when he’s bouncing you up and down like this over his hard length, thrusts becoming more erratic, more chaotic, sloppier, you have no choice but to surrender to him. You hold onto his back and his shoulders for dear life as he fucks up into you and you can tell he’s close too.

“God, you’re so good. You’re so fucking good at this,” you whine, all nerves, and explosive pleasure behind your admission.

“I’m close. Baby, are you-?” Luca struggles to get out, the tension in his brow telling you everything you need to know.

“Yes. Harder. Fuck. I’m gonna cum,” you sob, sure that your neighbors will send you the dirtiest or looks when you run into them in the hallway tomorrow.

You cry out as his fingers return to your clit, rubbing hasty circles against you in an effort to take you there with him. All you can do is moan as you busy your mouth with leaving kisses and love bites against his shoulders and chest.

It’s somehow too much and not enough all at once as your orgasm rips through you, your entire body contracting against his. You bite down on Luca’s shoulder, and you think the pain and pleasure combined is what gets him across the finish line as he fucks you through your climax. Before you can properly come down, it’s one, two, and then a third hard thrust up into you before he lets out a primal grunt, pressing your hips down hard against his.

Luca stills inside of you, panting as the ripples of pleasure course through his body, his ears ringing from how hard he came. His eyes meet yours, and he chuckles, moving a piece of hair from your face before tucking it behind your ear.

“Hi,” he smiles, watching you carefully.

“How ya doin?” you ask him, teasingly.

He shakes his head with a laugh before pulling you towards him so that he can kiss you once again.

“I’m great,” he answers, in between kisses.

“Me too,” you agree as your lips curl into a smile against his. You press one more kiss to his lips before pulling back. As you climb off of his lap, allowing him to slip out of you, the two of you hit the mattress like you’ve just run a marathon.

“Come here, love,” he says, encouraging you closer to him.

More than happy to oblige, you curl up to his side, one of your legs wrapping around his as you lay on your side. You giggle, settling into the softness of moment, pressed up against the guy that just fucked your brains out.

“What?” he asks, in regards to your laugh.

“I just-,” you start, before giggling again. “That was really hot.”

Luca gives you a comforting squeeze, hugging you closer to him as you relax even further into his body.

“Yeah it was,” he agrees, a grin spreading across his lips.

He looks over at you to see that you’re on your way to being fast asleep. You’ve closed your eyes, so perfectly tucked underneath his arm as you rest against his body. Luca places a gentle kiss on top of your head as he grins to himself again. He’s not sure what to call it – this thing he’s feeling – because it’s too soon to call it anything, but whatever it is, he knows that his friend was right:

He’s a goner.

-------------------------------

Luca doesn’t know what he did in a past life to deserve this, but as he watches you take him into your mouth, he knows he must’ve done something right. Your name escapes his lips like a prayer as you spend your morning going down on him, completely incapable of ignoring the hard-on you woke up to minutes ago.

You’d promptly pushed him onto his back before asking if you could.

And who was he to say no?

“Shit,” he hisses, as your tongue runs over the head of his hard, leaking cock.

“Wait, just-. I don’t want to cum yet. I-,” Luca stammers out, using all of his self control not to cum in your mouth right then and there. “I want to fuck you again.”

His words shoot straight to your core as you release him, climbing back over his body and letting him roll you onto your back.

“Do you want me to grab a condom?” he asks you, nipping at your jaw as his fingers discover that you’re already ready for him.

His words from last night echo in your head:

And I’m not seeing anyone else.

“No,” you say, immediately searching his face for some kind of negative reaction. “Is that okay?”

He nods, one side of his mouth turns up into that crooked smile that makes your heart race.

“Fuck,” he rasps, his head spinning as he lines himself up with your entrance, beginning to push in.

“Of course it is, love.”

#chef luca #will poulter #luca the bear #the bear season 2 #the bear headcanon #luca x reader #the bear hulu #the bear fx #the bear fanfiction #chef luca x reader #pastry chef luca #burn your life down #luca smut #chef luca smut #the bear smut #luca x reader smut

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moriartyluver · 1 year ago

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Hello🙋 it's me yet again. How's it going?

Are you still taking requests? If you aren't, please ignore this.

If you are, could I please request a William x Reader oneshot? I got inspired by that poker chapter (I hate Johnson).

So, one night, William, Albert, Moran and Bond decide to play poker, and the winner will be recieving a kiss from William's wife (they somehow persuaded her to do it💀). So, William pulls some intelligent shit (I'm stupid, ok?) and obviously wins. Bonus, he asked reader to sit in his lap for good luck🤭.

I really hope this is not confusing and thank you very much! ❤️🥰

A/N: I’m still taking requests dw 😭 this request got me giggling and blushing omg 🤭 I’d sell my soul to get to sit on liams lap 🛐 (I hate Johnson too)

Character(s): William James Moriarty x fem! Reader

Format: oneshot

Genre: fluff + spicy

Prompt: above^^

Warnings: established relationship (marriage), reader is female, gambling??, a little bit spicy. Way too short 😞

“POKER?”

“That’s right, darling. We’d invite you to join but..” William trailed off as you scanned the table. Fred and Louis were observing while Bond, your husband, Moran and Albert were all sat around a table, the poker set out.

“But what?” You asked, feeing slightly left out. “Because I’m a woman?” You were half joking but everyone knew that playing games like cards or poker were not very ladylike.

Bond shook his head “You’re the prize, (nickname). The prize can’t be playing because then what shall you get if you win? It’d make more sense for you to watch instead.”

You raised a brow in confusion. You? The prize? What on earth was that supposed to mean?

“When you say it like that, it makes you sound perverted.” Moran commented from beside Bond, a subtle smirk on his face.

You look over to William as if demanding an explanation. He smiled sheepishly, it wasn’t him who had declared the bet and he’d much rather not have you on the line.

“What Bond meant to say was that the winner is supposed to get a kiss from, you, (name).” Albert explained with a smug look and a sip of wine as usual, watching his little brother furrow his eyebrows in slight irritation from beside him. “Nothing too extreme, just a little peck on the cheek.”

Clearly he had some of not all the responsibility of creating the prize. Albert wasn’t as much of a mastermind as William was, but God, he had the tendency to meddle and scheme in other peoples lives whenever it could provide entertainment.

You looked at him with wide eyes. “I didn’t agree to this! You can go bet on something else,” then you paused “Nevermind that, as the lady of the house, I’d much rather not have any gambling take place within the estate, or anywhere for that matter. Haven’t you learned anything after that run in with Mr Johnson?”

“Oh don’t be like that, (name), it’s just for fun.” Moran laughed, although there was a slightly guilty tone in his voice, like a child caught misbehaving “Besides, we all know Louis acts more like the lady of the house much more than you do.”

Louis glared at the colonel then rolled his eyes while you held back a snort from his reaction.

You sighed begrudgingly “If you insist..but if I do, then the loser has to do all of my chores for the next month.”

“Two weeks.” Louis negotiated with a stern look.

“Deal.”

Fred was about to pull a stool out for you to sit on but was stopped by William calling out to you. He had his evil (yet attractive) little mischievous smile on so you knew he was planning no good. Chances were, he was probably going to win if Moran didn’t cheat as usual but with a kiss from you up for grabs, he had become even more competitive and determined to win. Both because he adored any scrap of affection he could receive from you, and because he dreaded the idea of you kissing anyone but him, even if it was strictly platonic.

“Come sit here, my dear,” He said, patting his thigh. The corners of his lips were turned upwards “I need my lucky charm to help me win your affections.”

“Do I have to?” You groaned, clearly flustered by the idea.

“Please?” He pleaded, looking at you with a teasing yet innocent expression. You gave in, walking over to him and sitting on his lap while your husband wrapped his arm around your waist, securing you in place. You look at him as if to say ‘you’re lucky I love you.’

“L-Let the game commence.” You said, hoping not to draw attention to your flushed expression as you played off your stutter

“Damn.”

“Oooh, unlucky Bond,” Albert chuckled as James frowned at his loss.

It was finally William’s turn as he was sat beside Bond and the turns went clockwise.

“Your turn, dear.” You said, hand on his shoulder. You could see a smirk forming on his face. One that he would usually wear whenever he would bring corrupt nobles to justice or read of Sherlock’s work in the paper or whenever you would tease him. A smirk he would proudly wear with satisfaction.

You peer over to look at his cards, eyes widening momentarily. You look back at your lover’s face as his eyes land on you. William gives you a wink, ever so smug from what is seconds away from being a win. You had been observing him the entire game, and yet he still managed to get his way as usual.

His hand clutched his cards, ready to spread them over the table while his other hand caressed your waist, thumb massaging the soft flesh over your clothes.

Everyone had been waiting in anticipation, silently observing your reaction aswell as William’s. It was a general presumption that he would win though, partially due to his intellect, partially due to his possessive nature.

“Royal flush.” William stated nonchalantly as he spread his cards on the wooden table.

Moran tossed his cards to the ground in anger, clearly because he had the potential to win if William wasn’t so damn lucky (not for the sake of being kissed, just for the fact he was once again so close to beating William but just not close enough) James has his hand cupped in his cheek, glad Moran didn’t win whilst Albert could care less, he just wanted another glass of red wine.

William could only smile, hoping not to appear boastful despite how badly he wanted to brag, not because he won, but because you were going to kiss him. Although it seemed you had forgotten that now because of how proud you were that he won.

“It seems I’m much deserving of a prize now,” William whispered to you, pulling you closer to him “Don’t you agree my love? I did play so well just for you.”

You pause, recalling the original deal. You hesitantly nod, still annoyed that you were the prize because if you weren’t, you probably would have won anyways.

“Fine.” You groan, leaning forward to press a kiss to his cheek.

Except you don’t.

The cheeky bastard turned his head at just the right moment, possibly intentionally, for your lips to land on his. Wolf whistles echo through out the room along with a “get a room” from Moran who recovered from his loss.

You pull away gently, tapping William I’m a faux scolding manner before sticking your tongue out at Moran, about to hurl some insults before William kisses you once more.

#—a’s anons 💄#moriarty the patriot #william james moriarty #william moriarty #william moriarty x reader #yuukoku no moriarty #mtp william #moriarty the patriot x reader #yuukoku no moriarty x reader #—a’s asks 💌

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shadesoflsk · 10 months ago

Note

Number 71 with re2r Leon could be so silly *twirls hair and blushes*

hiiiii anon😼 That idea is so cute please I'm melting. For this one, I immediately thought about an amusement park date (is that the correct name ? lol), and that led to a photo booth kiss! And you're sooo right this idea with re2r Leon is so silly he's just ike that! I hope you like it, take care. !!

71. “Kiss me, quick!” summary: re2r leon kennedy x gn reader, just straight up tooth rotting fluff wc: 1.0k

After accepting a job as a cop in Raccoon City, he knew that time wouldn’t be enough to be with you. That’s why, every time he has days off, he does his best to make it up for you.

Leon had decided to surprise you this time. The only clue he gave you was “wear something comfortable” and while it was an ambiguous sentence, you obliged. You took one last glance at the mirror, making sure you looked the part when Leon whistled.

“Ready to go?”

It hadn’t been a long drive, at least you thought so until Leon stopped the car in the middle of the road. Confused, you turned your head as you observed Leon rummaging through his pockets. Eventually, he found what he was searching for.

“A blindfold?” Your voice carried a sense of curiosity in it.

“Do you trust me?”

“Hell no.”

“Darling…please.” He whined, his lips forming a pout as exasperation filled his speech. It was funny to tease your boyfriend every chance you get, but now you spare him the embarrassment.

“Ok, no need to cry.” You took the blindfold and Leon made sure to check that you couldn’t see anything.

“How many fingers do I have?” He said as he lifted his hand, forming a three.

“Four. Now drive.” You couldn’t hide the silly smile that was forming on your face.

And with that, Leon’s hand gripped the steering wheel again.

When you finally arrive, Leon helps you get out of the car and the first thing you notice —besides the chill air— is kids screaming and giggles filling the atmosphere. At first, you thought Leon had brought you to a concert. But then again, kids wouldn’t be at a concert at this time of the night even if it is still early.

“Can I take it off?”

“Yes, let me help you.”

Leon gets in front of you and takes off the blindfold that prevented you from seeing anything. The previous darkness that blurred your vision is now disappearing as your eyes adjust to the neon lights that the scenario before you offers.

“Ta-da!” Leon’s lips curve into a cheerful smile as he extends his arms, showing you his greatest idea. He has been planning this date for days. Ever since he read this new fair was coming to town, he just knew he had to take you there.

He is the epitome of a good boyfriend, dates are always a must when he has free time. And even when he couldn’t be with you, he would leave surprises. A sticky note telling you how much he loves you? Done. Having flowers delivered to your front door? Of course.

“Leon I...” You let out a breathy laugh. Your eyes dart back from the scenario of countless games and rides lying in front of you, to Leon's eyes which look at you with a devotion and love that just makes your heart weak. “Thank you…”

And, as a way to show your gratitude, you wrap your arms around his waist and hug him, letting the warmth of your bodies embrace both of you. He places a kiss on your forehead and motions you to follow him.

You don’t know who was more excited, you or Leon. But with the way he kept tugging your hand each time he saw a ride he wanted to try, you may as well say him. He kept his vice grip on you all the way from the roller coaster, to the ferris wheel and to finally the haunted house.

After scaring the shit out of both of you, you decide to sit down for a while, catching your breaths as adrenaline still pumps through your veins. Your eyes, eventually, fall on a photo booth a few meters away from where you’re sitting.

Now it was Leon’s turn to be dragged around.

You both laugh in unison as you waste no time in getting into the booth, almost forgetting to insert the five dollar bill that the machine needed to work. Leon closes the red curtain and instantly pulls you closer.

You sit down, struggling to fit into the narrow and tight space the photo booth provided. Leon and you try fixing each other’s hair amidst the giggling fit you were in. The countdown for the photos starts.

“Leon! Stop laughing.” You mutter as you try to maintain a sweet smile for the picture. Leon, on the other hand, moved at the very exact moment when the machine snapped a photo. “For God’s sake Leon…” And as much as you feign annoyance, you are grateful for this little memory you are creating with him.

For the second picture, you both show a beaming and pearly white smile to the camera, pressing your cheeks to one another. However, as the first photo is probably blurry due to Leon’s inability to stay still, you decide to have the perfect picture just for yourself.

“Kiss me, quick!”

He almost didn’t hear you when your words left your lips. However, your instructions are followed to the letter, and Leon in a swift motion grabs your face. You smile between the kiss as you hear the camera making a click sound.

You don’t pull away right away, letting the romantic display of affection linger for a few seconds before the machine decides to break the sweet and tender moment.

“Thank you. You can now leave the photo booth. Please don’t forget to collect your pictures.”

“Don’t pay attention—”

“Thank you. You can now leave the photo booth. Please don’t forget to collect your pictures.”

“Jesus… I get it” Leon mutters as he reluctantly pulls away from the kiss. A dumb smile is plastered on his face as you admire his expression. You both walk out of the photo booth with your fingers interlaced, ready to see the results.

Needlessly to say, Leon stole that picture from you just to brag about what a pretty partner he has whenever he gets asked if he has a special one or not.

#leon kennedy x reader #leon kennedy x you #leon kennedy drabble #leon kennedy #leon s kennedy #resident evil

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mvskedxrtist · 11 months ago

Text

The Big Needy Wolf

Wᴀʀɴɪɴɢ: PwP, Mommy Kink, Creampie, Breeding Kink, Edging, Hypersensitivity, Praise, Overstimulation

Nᴏᴛᴇ: Last one before the new year I guess! Thank you guys so much for the 100 followers!! I'm so glad I've been able to satisfy the doms around. For right now, enjoy and sorry if Jack is OOC. Also if this is a weird plot, don't blame me, wolves usually have their heat/rut in February/March so yeah. Count this as an very early Valentine's Day smut.

AFAB!Reader x Jack Howl - The Big Needy Wolf

Ah Valentines Day. A holiday no one in Night Raven College usually considers. Why would they, it's all boys there until that year where Y/N showed up and so came a few more girls in all of the dorms. Yet Y/N was the Prefect of Ramshackle. But let's ignore that and get back to the present.

You've been dating Jack ever since the Octavinelle incident. The both of you had gotten closer while trying to figure out how to get your friends out of their contracts. And from y'all being close led you you both getting together before he left for winter break.

Getting back from winter break lead to the Pomefiore incident. But this happened in the middle of that!

While the Adeuce duo, Kalim, Jamil, and the Pomefiore trio were staying in Ramshackle dorm since you were their manager, you actually were in Savanaclaw having a date night with Jack. You both were watching a movie while cuddling each other an you were glad after how busy you've been that you get to spend time with him.

Jack was happy he got to spend time with you, his girlfriend, at the same time he's been having his rut and having you so close to him made his senses go off in the sense that he wasn't able to control himself and started humping your leg.

You could feel him grinding against your leg and blushed furiously but looked over at him and kissed him gently. "Such a needy wolf.. What's going on babe?" You asked Jack gently while he looked at you with lust, grinding against you more as he slowly tried to get off of his arousal. "D-damn it.. It's my rut~" Jack muttered gently a bit embarrassed but looked at you and kissed you passionately while your hands scratched the back of his ears.

"The big needy wolf wants to fuck me so badly huh? My how much of a pervert you are~ But I won't let you hold it for much longer~" You chuckled and started kissing him passionately while taking each other's clothes off.

You were riding on his lap with your hands on both sides of his face, kissing each other passionate. Jack was feeling a rush of satisfaction and held you close while letting you ride him endlessly. The pleasure felt amazing to him, it was almost like he was– "Fuck! Mommy I need to cum~" He groaned and begged you, you looking at him with a sinister smile.

"Aww~ not yet~" You smirked and lifted yourself off of his cock, moaning softly while the wolf boy whimpered, his ears down slightly as he looked at you. "C-cmon, M-mommy~ I need this so badly~ I wanna cum in you so badly~" Jack whimpered and tried to grind against your slit, moaning under his breath. "You wanna make me have your pups?~" "Y-yes please mommy~"

"Ok then~" You smirked and slammed yourself back down on his cock, both of you moaning loudly while he held onto you close. You kept riding his cock quickly and could feel Jack twitching inside of you, kissing his neck to tease him a bit before looking at him. "3...2..1!~" You counted him down before you felt him cum inside of you, moaning loudly while looking at Jack. You could see him in a daze from cumming inside of you.

"That's my good boy~" You smiled and kissed his cheek, sitting up and running your fingers through his hair while letting him rest... Before you started grinding your hips against his and riding his cock again. Jack's eyes went wide and he started moaning again, looking at you confused but excited.

"N-nghh~ h-hhah~ Mommy, what are you doing?~" He moaned out while watching you just pleasure yourself on his cock. You gave him a small smirk and giggled. "Aren't you the big needy wolf?~ Don't you need to cum and cum until there's nothing left?~"

#top reader #my writing #smut #mvsked.writing #fem reader #femdxm #top fem reader #twisted wonderland smut #twisted wonderland x reader #twisted wonderland #disney twst #twst wonderland #twst #twst x reader #twst jack #jack howl #jack howl x reader

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lace-coffin · 9 months ago

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Hello! 👋 I have a really weird kinda specific request for Asa. Could you pretty please write headcanons of Asa with a picky eater s/o? But like an emotional picky eater, idk if that makes sense. Personally I have a rlly hard time with motivation to eat, I'm also a picky eater so when someone else eats my food and I run out of my favorites I get really frustrated and emotional because it's hard for me to eat already and eating foods I don't like just make it 10x harder. Idk I'm a crybaby and cry over food lol. Sorry if this is weird or too specific 😅. Anyways I love your writing keep up the good work and have a fantastic day/night!

Hi! Thank you so much for the request! No need to apologise! I love specific requests! I’m also a pretty picky eater due to my autism so ur not alone! I’m so happy u like my writing ah T T have a fantastic night urself!!

Asa Emory x picky eater!Reader

Requests are open!

The restaurant was supposed to be a reward for your good behaviour lately, unfortunately it turned into a nightmare only moments after being seated. Flicking through the menu your heart rate starts to spike, making you feel a little sweaty and out of it. The restaurant is beautiful and lavish but unfortunately that means the menu is more ‘out there’ and doesn’t have any of your safe foods on it…

You don’t want to ruin the reward, it’s a nice restaurant and you’re here to enjoy it with your master. attempting to shovel the anxiety down you order something that you think could be edible to you. Your nervous energy dies down a little as convocation flows between the two of you, laughing along easily and lost in it you almost forget the problem at hand. Until it arrives.

Five minuets pass and you haven’t eaten more than one bite after pushing the meal around your plate with the fork, trying to stall. You try will yourself to take another bite but you can’t do it, your eyes are starting to water and you don’t know what to do, if only you could just buckle down and eat it. Unfortunately that’s not an option, your stomach starting to turn and your breath catching at the idea.

Asa notices you haven’t spoken in a while, he figured you’d just been enjoying the meal until he’d looked up, your face contorted in worry and tears threatening to fall.

“-re you ok? Pet?”

Blinking away your tears you pull yourself back into the moment, only catching the latter half of what your partner said but getting the gist. No use in hiding it now, there’s no way you’re going to finish this meal without crying, and you sure as fuck don’t want to be crying in the middle of the restaurant. You can’t think of anything more mortifying.

Eyes falling away from Asa and back to the plate you take a breath and begin to explain, voice small and apologetic.

“They didn’t have any foods I know I like so uh I ordered something new! I didn’t like it though..” you say, wincing a little.

“I’ve tried my best to eat it but I just..can’t. I promise I’ve tried my hardest and I really want this reward to be good and I love being here with you but it’s stressing me out so bad!” You sniffle again at the end, explaining the issue always makes you emotional again.

“Oh pet” Asa sighs with a fond expression.

“You should’ve said something, it’s really no worry at all, we could’ve gone somewhere else, I won’t take offence.”

You let out an exhale of relief, realistically you knew he wouldn’t be angry with you considering he already knew about your eating difficulties but it still didn’t stop you from panicking.

“Cricket” your owner addresses you again, reaching over the table to hold your hand.

“Would you like to leave and get some takeout? We can go to your favourite, it’s your reward after all.” He smiles softly at you.

Squeezing his hand affectionately you can’t help but grin back.

“I would love that, sir.”

I rlly wanted to do the rest of ur request too so have some extra headcanons on the house lmao

“Come on pet, just one more bite and I promise no more.” Asa coos as he scoops the spoon full of food, bringing it to your lips. The gesture is very sweet but unfortunately you want absolutely nothing less than to have the next bite, the idea nauseating.

-After finding out about the difficulties you have surrounding food he likely keeps multiple packages of your safe food stocked in the house

-always has a food you know you like in the freezer or fridge on standby when trying new foods incase it doesn’t go well

-he’ll never get angry at you if you suddenly go off your food, he’ll either offer to get you something else or make you pinky promise to eat later when you feel better

-has absolutely let you cry it out more than once at the drive through when you find out the thing you’ve been thinking about all day is out of stock

-if you’re finding it hard to eat and he absolutely can’t get you out of bed/move you to eat then he’ll bring the food too you, will happily feed you if you ask or look like you need it, he loves to feel dominant and needed

#slashers #slasher x reader #slasher headcanons #writing #asa emory #asa emory x reader #my writing #the collection #slasher fucker #slasher fandom #slasher #slasher horror #slashers x reader

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appocalipse · 2 years ago

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Hiiii angst fic idea!!! Sorry if they are weird you can totally ignore this <3

Miscommunication with steve, maybe he makes reader feel bad but he didn't want to and reader just goes quiet and he doesn't understand, but tries really hard to make everything better, with a happy ending maybe, if you want.

Or another idea is that Steve is with a very extroverted r and everybody think it's weird, so r feels kinda insecure but cute ol steve makes her feel better (i feel like this is more of hurt/comfort, but maybe you like the idea).

Ok, that all, byeeee!!!

thank you so much for your request ♥ you're welcome to send more!

The neon lights of the arcade flicker against your face, illuminating your features as you watch Steve play Centipede. You lean against the machine, your arms crossed, as you wait for him to finish the game. It's a Friday night, and you've been looking forward to this all week. It's your first date in a while; you want it to be perfect.

"You're up," Steve says, turning to you with a grin.

You smile back, feeling that familiar warmth inside your chest. "Watch and learn, baby," you tease, taking the joystick from him.

Steve watches as you play, offering tips and encouragement when you need it. You're having fun, but you can't shake the feeling that something's off. Steve seems distracted, distant almost, like he's trying too hard to seem like he's paying attention. He's not nearly as talkative as he usually is, and you find yourself carrying most of the conversation.

As you finish the game, Steve turns to you. "That was impressive," he says, but far from usual, his tone is flat.

You try to ignore the feeling of disappointment that creeps up in your chest, the sting of insecurity squeezing at your heart. "Thanks," you murmur, putting the joystick back in its place. "Do you want to… try something else?"

You kind of expected what happens next: Steve shakes his head.

"I hate to cut the night short, but I'm really feeling exhausted," he confesses, taking your hand and absently running his thumb over your palm. "Can I take you home?"

"Oh," you say, trying to hide the disappointment in your voice. "Yeah, sure."

As you walk out of the arcade, you can't help but feel a pang of sadness. This is far from how you envisioned the night going. You wanted it to be romantic, special, something to make up for lost time…yet you don't want to disregard Steve's feelings. It wouldn't be fair.

Once outside, Steve turns to you, his expression softening. "I'm sorry," he says. "I didn't mean to be distant tonight. It's just…I've got a lot on my mind."

You're pretty sure he can sense the way you feel sometimes. "What's going on?" you ask, relief and concern washing over you at the same time.

Steve hesitates, his eyes flickering away from yours. "It's nothing, really," he says, his voice strained. "Just some stuff with work, you know. It's been tough lately."

You nod slowly, trying to comprehend the weight of what he's saying. "I understand," you say softly. "I'm here for you, Steve. Always."

Steve's gaze meets yours again, and you see a flicker of something in his eyes. Regret, maybe, or guilt. "I know," he agrees. "I'm sorry. I just…I didn't want to burden you with my problems. You've got your own stuff going on."

You shake your head, feeling a little frustrated. "That's not the point," you say. "We're in this together, remember? That's what a relationship is about. Sharing the good and the bad."

Steve looks at you, and you see something shift in his expression. A softness, a vulnerability. "You're right," he says. "As always. I'll…I'll do better, I promise."

You smile, feeling a weight lift off your shoulders. "I know you will," you say. "And…I'm sorry too. I shouldn't have assumed things without talking to you first."

Steve takes your hand, his touch warm and reassuring. "It's okay," he says. "We all make mistakes. What matters is that we learn from them."

"Oooh, you're so wise all of a sudden," you say, playfully poking his arm. "But enough serious talk for tonight. Let's get you home so you can rest."

You both start walking towards Steve's car, the cool night air brushing against your skin. As you get closer, you notice the way the streetlights cast a warm, golden glow over the pavement. You take in a deep breath, feeling a sense of calm settle over you.

Steve's hand slips into yours, and you feel a spark of electricity run through you. You turn to him, noticing the way his eyes crinkle adorably at the corners when he grins at you.

Steve's grin widens, and he nods in agreement. "Sounds good to me," he says. "But, you know, I suddenly don't feel so tired anymore."

You raise an eyebrow, a playful smirk on your lips. "Oh?" you prompt.

He leans in closer to you, his breath warm against your cheek. "Yeah," he says, his voice low and husky. "I was thinking maybe I could stay at your place tonight. You know, for some extra rest."

You feel your heart skip a beat at his words, and you can't help but smile. "Well, I don't know," you say, teasingly. "I don't want to be a bad influence."

Steve laughs, a sound that sends the best kind of shiver down your spine. "Too late for that," he says, his eyes shining with warmth. What more could you ask for?

#steve harrington x reader #steve harrington #steve harrington x you #steve harrington oneshot #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington x fem!reader #steve harrington fluff #steve harrington angst #steve x you #steve x reader #stranger things fanfic #stranger things imagine #steve harrington drabble

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lunalockley · 2 years ago

Text

The Limo Driver (part two)

Jake Lockley x Fem!Reader

Warnings: SMUT. Like, a lot. Can Jake on his knees count as a warning?

Summary: It's night, it's raining and reader just wants to sleep, until she doesn't anymore.

Words: 7700+

Notes: Sooooo, I'm sorry, it took me a little longer than planned but here it is, I really hope you like it. And thank you all so much for your comments, always brighten my day.

Specially dedicated to my dearest moon emoji anon who made me feel really good about this one <3

Masterlist

gif credit

So… you’ve been thinking about it. Well, you can’t stop. Of course you can’t. He kissed you once and you spent six months half in lov—Ok, no. Wait, what? No. Half hooked up on him you mean. Three-quarters stupid. Completely insane. But not half in that. No.

Uh, whatever. It’s only been a day, a couple of hours. It’s way too recent. So it’s normal for your mind to keep on spinning the matter. And the eyes, and the voice, and the fingers. It’s driving you crazy, to be honest. The feel of them on your throat, on your hips, on your mouth… inside of you. You barely slept last night, your mind keeps taking you back through every fucking second of it without even trying. And then you can almost hear his voice calling you preciosa in that way he does and everything starts to heat up. That good, nice heat that’s so easy to get lost on.

But there’s also the bad one. The focalized heat that sets upon your chest like a weight is pressing down on you, making breathing a little bit harder. That’s the one you felt when you walked out last night. And you’ve been feeling it every time you think about what you said, and what he didn’t. That’s the part you’re trying to avoid. Yet it comes to mind anyways. It’s pretty fucking unfair.

And it’s pretty fucking ridiculous too because how come that after all that has happened, all the time you two have shared, all the things he has done you still can’t… figure him out? It doesn’t make any sense. How does someone that’s so incredibly hermetic make you feel you can read him just by looking him in the eyes when you actually don’t know anything about him at all? Does he do it on purpose? Is it a calculated move or is he somehow unable to—

—And you’re doing it again. Thinking about it non-stop. You called in sick needing a night away from the restaurant, from Jake’s stupid chair and that stupid bathroom that has been giving you palpitations just by the thought of going in and this is how you spend it. You had planned to cook a nice dinner, watch a movie, water your barely-alive plants, do a beginner's yoga class on Youtube, and maybe even finish reading that book that has been dusting on your nightstand. But no, here you are. Already in pajamas, all you’ve done (besides eating yesterday’s leftovers) is sit on the couch contemplating how time passes with the rain and Viejita’s soft meowing in the background. Is procrastination the root of all your problems? Maybe it is.

Or maybe it’s just time to get up and do what you do best: sleep. Give your body the rest your mind refuses to get. You impulse yourself out of the couch to go and take Viejita with you. Cuddling with her makes it all better. No more stupid Jake thinking. You let your ear guide you, she’s right next to the window. She had never complained about the rain before and as she feels you getting closer she even starts scratching the glass.

“Hey, baby, It’s just a little rain,” you mutter, petting her and trying to calm her down until you rest your eyes on what she is staring at down the street.

What the f—He can’t just—There’s no fucking way.

You’re not sure. You just live on the third floor but it’s dark outside. The street light barely lights anything at all. And the rain makes it even harder to see. Yet the outline of the limousine is clearly visible, and so is the figure leaning against it. But it can’t be. You’ve always thought Jake is unusual in every little thing he does but this? He wouldn’t be crazy enough to be waiting under the rain without a fucking umbrella and without even ringing the bell to your apartment, just expecting somehow you knew he would be there, right? That would be insane. It must be a weird coincidence. Some other limo driver who's waiting for someone else here… in this neighborhood? Weird, yet not impossible.

But then he looks up straight at your window and your heart jumps inside your chest as you instinctively hurry back into the shadows, where he can’t see you.

Fuck, it is him.

What the fuck? He knows your apartment is on the third floor, you’ve told him. You’ve told him the number. You’ve told him everything, for fuck’s sake. It's not like you want him to come up to your house knocking on the door in the middle of the night but what is he doing? At this point, you’re sure he purposefully finds the way to do the least expected, most incomprehensible thing in every fucking little thing he does. It must be his life’s motto: “No matter what, always find a way to stress the shit out of the people in my life”.

He’s an idiot, there’s no doubt of it. The thing is: are you an idiot? Well, yeah. You just saw him outside your place and your heart is already a beat away from a fucking heart attack. But you should try not to be an idiot anymore. You shouldn't go down. Make it clear you said it’s over for good. He definitely saw you, he would get it, and then… and then he would leave. Forever. Yeah, that’s what you should do.

But… goodbyes are a good thing too, right?

Closure and all that stuff. Talk things out, even if it sounds unlikely with someone like Jake. You can give it a chance. A… friendly goodbye. Ok, yeah. Sounds good. And it is the right thing in this type of situation, grown-up shit. A goodbye, that’s all.

You take one last look at the street just in case you’ve lost your mind and you’ve imagined the whole thing, but he’s still right there. Arms crossed, leaning against the limo and probably soaking fuking wet.

“Your dad’s an idiot, Viejita,” you say to the little black beast before taking her in your arms to leave her on her favorite cushion on the sofa. She settles down, pleased and exhausted as if she's accomplished a hard job.

You grab your keys next to the mirror at the entrance.

Just a goodbye.

⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆

The bone-chilling air hits you as soon as you step out of the building but seeing him is what makes you stop dead in your tracks for a second. You couldn’t see it up from your floor but he’s wearing his usual type of clothes, not the casual ones that somehow felt so out of place on him yesterday. Now the familiarity of the white shirt, the jacket, and the hat gives you a naive sense of comfort you try to dismiss away. As if this one were more of your Jake than it was yesterday. Stupid, he’s not more of anything and it’s just clothes.

A white shirt, a jacket, and a hat that are drenched, by the way. Which reminds you—

“What the fuck are you doing in the rain? Are you insane?”

Instead of answering he just looks at you and opens the limo’s door. Silently asking you to get in.

Ok, well…. you didn't think this through. You only thought about coming down, not actually getting into his car. But, you guess… there’s no other option. You came here to say your friendly goodbye, after all. Can’t do it in the rain, just like that. And a veil of water drops is already setting in your clothes, you can feel some of the fabric clanging into your body. Another thing you didn’t think through is the worn-out sweatpants you came out with, the old shirt that has somehow become a pajama shirt, and your lack of a bra underneath.

Fuck it.

When you slide into the car you notice how spacious the limousine is yet it surprises you how it does not seem to be room for many people. There are only two rows of red leather seats facing each other. So much space for so few passengers. In order to be more private and luxurious, you guess. It makes you think about the people he drives for. Might he be just as serious and inaccessible as you’ve seen him be with basically everyone else? Or might he show his weird uncharismatic charisma as he has done with you? The latter doesn’t sound so good, for some reason.

You stop nosing around when you feel him sitting next to you a little bit closer than the spacious seat needs. You were right. He's drenched and most likely ruining the luxurious leather of the luxurious car, but he doesn't seem to care as he turns his whole body and attention towards you.

“Is it every day or once every six months with you? No in-betweens?” You blurt out, cornered by the closeness of his body.

Fuck, friendly goodbye. Friendly.

“Sorry. I take that back,” you mumble, thinking your next words before you pronounce them this time. “Why didn’t you ring the bell to my apartment?”

“It’s late. I saw the lights on but thought you might have fallen asleep. Didn’t want to disturb you. You work too much, preciosa,” he answers calmly, his voice softer than you ever heard before. Not in a submissive way but in a disarmingly appeasing tone as if he had come here disarmed, without any shields. Exactly the opposite of how you feel right now. You move back in the seat trying to get as far as you can get in the restricted space. Soft raspy melting voices shouldn’t cause claustrophobia.

“And if I had been sleeping what would you have done? Wait till I wake up tomorrow?” You throw it out half as a joke, but immediately you realize—

He doesn’t even have to answer to know that’s the truth. He had come here to see you and wouldn’t have left until he did.

“Do you always get what you want? Is that how things work for you?”

“If things worked out for me this wouldn’t be the first time I see you outside work,” he says replies, lifting his hat and running a hand through his hair. And to your disbelief, he puts it back with a sigh like he didn't even realize the damn thing is soaking fucking wet just like the rest of his clothes are. He should take it all off before he catches a cold. Ha, go on. Keep thinking of him without his clothes on. Good idea. “Speaking of which, you know what am I thinking?”

“Are you kidding me?” You snort, turning towards him, as shocked by your train of thought as by the audacity of his question. “I never know what you’re thinking,” you whisper, taken aback by the fact that he still doesn’t understand how little you understand him. At all. That’s the whole point here.

“That’s weird, I’ve always felt you can see right through me,” he mutters, frowning at you as if you had any fault in that absurd idea. Stupid Jake. His voice sounds sincere but you chose not to even give it a second thought, can’t allow yourself that right now. Not with the purpose you came here for.

So you cross your arms and frown back at him, refusing to answer anything at all. But he mirrors you, crossing his arms and resting his back against the seat.

God, this is so stupid. You’re so mad at him but can’t help smiling when the stare competition last a little too long. It’s infuriating. And so ridiculous. You came here to say goodbye, why are you smiling?

“What are you thinking?” You ask, defeated.

A crooked smile forms on his lips in victory, but he quickly brushes away with his thumb.

“I’m thinking you look pretty fucking good here like this,” he says taking a look at your body, his eyes somehow soft and dark on equal parts. You try to ignore the effect his tone produces under your skin.

“In pajamas on your limousine?”

“Yeah, it’s a sight,” he breathes lowly, uncrossing his arms and getting a little bit closer. You can’t take it.

“Stop—don't do that, please.”

He waits for you to continue.

“That thing you do,” you explain reluctantly. “You make it sound like you’re joking but it feels like you are telling the truth. It’s confusing. Tell me what you are really thinking for once.”

“I’m telling you in every way I know.”

The words are out of his mouth like a caress and the way he’s—No, no, no. Focus. He’s flirting his way out. Get to the point.

“So? Did you come here to say goodbye?”

“Why would I say goodbye?” He retorts like you had asked him the most bizarre question possible.

“Because we are not seeing each other again, I told you it’s over.”

“Oh, it’s over? So what are you doing here?”

“Would you have left if I didn’t come down? I’m saving you from pneumonia. You’re welcome.”

He shakes his head, a reproachful gleam in his eyes but then he exhales and lets it go. He looks out the window for a moment and then back at you. Outside, the rain pounds harder.

“I came to say that I’m… I’m sorry”

“Oh, that’s a first. What for?”

You cross your legs and he follows the movement. Then he shifts in his seat once more, trying to find comfort.

“I’m sorry that I didn’t—That I left without saying anything—I… I just disappeared. I’m sorry. I understand why you’re angry. If it had been you I would’ve—I’m sorry.”

He’s struggling so much one would think this is the first time he apologizes for something in his life. It cracks your walls a little bit, but still—

“Why didn’t you say anything?”

“I just had to go and then I couldn’t come back.”

“How so?”

“I… I’m not able to control my time as I used to, just when is necessary.”

Oh. You weren’t important enough to come and let you know he was going to disappear for six fucking months.

“Yeah I get that, you didn’t need to be here,” you grunt moving to get out of the car but he moves from his seat, catching your hand before you even get to touch the handle.

“Let me go, you asshole!”

You try to push him back but in half a second he’s resting his knees on the floor as his hands take yours on a soft grip at each side of your hips. He’s caging you between his body and the seat. And even when your body keeps attempting to get out of the car, the intense heat that radiates out of his body makes you wonder how his wet clothes aren’t fucking steaming.

“Wait, wait—hey, wait, stop,” he says soothingly, his voice not a bit altered by the force with which you are trying to push him. His left-hand find that soft spot on the side of your neck, drawing your attention to his dark eyes. You lose a little bit of your strength. “Listen to me. You’re angry, I know. Take it out on me. You’ll feel better.”

What?

Your heartbeat buzzes in your ears and you feel a little lightheaded. This is the first time he’s looking up to you instead of the other way around. Maybe that's what causes that slight desperate effect in his deep brown eyes, the look that the last speaker of an extinguished language would have. Condemned to never truly communicate with anyone else. And the way he looks kneeled in front of you, surrounded, as if he would let you do anything to him right now. Take it out on me, he said. Is he expecting you to hit him or something?

“That’s not how things work, Jake. I’m not gonna turn you into my… human stress relief ball. You just told me you don’t need this. And I wanna make that call too. So, that’s it. You’re an idiot but we’re good. Now move and let me go. It’s ok, it’s over just like I–”

“No, it’s not. Stop that,” he says all frown and serious, and then a little softer. “And that’s not what I meant. But let me apologize. I wanna make you feel good, baby. Then the rest. Let me have you happy and relaxed first.”

“What?—That’s n-not—We should talk”

“Oh, so you came here to talk not to say goodbye?”

“Are you serious?”

“Sorry,” he says in an innocent tone like he regrets it but he's actually smiling, the widest smile you've ever seen on him yet. A happy smile. The desperate glimmer turned into triumph. He knows you just gave in, he knows he’s won this one. God, you hate him. Stupid Jake.

“Don’t—” take off my slipper, you try to say. But he’s already taking the other one. You really didn’t think about your outfit at all before walking out of your apartment tonight. Whatever. Focus. “What did you mean then, explain it to me. You gotta give me something here because I don’t want to do this anymore, Jake. Not like this.”

He holds your eyes for a moment and then he leans forward, resting his forehead against your knee. One hand slowly making his way up over your calve, the other rolling up the fabric to expose the skin. It takes him a minute to speak again.

“I… I don’t have control over—I don’t really have a—I just do what needs to be done. That’s the purpose of me. That’s all I do. I prevent things from happening and if they happen I resolve them. I… survive, I guess. And this is how it’s been for as long as I can remember. It’s ok—it was, it was ok. It was until one night instead of going to a shitty bar like I always do I decide for some fucking reason to go into that damn 24/7 breakfast and you happened. I didn’t like it, at first, because I knew right there that it wasn’t going to be enough. I already wanted more. I tried to stop it but I kept going and going. You were always there. Lighting things up. Of course, I kept wanting more. It’s never enough”.

While he was speaking his fingertips were gently caressing your calf, his cheek word by word tracing the side of your leg, seeking the reassurance feeling of skin against skin but as soon as the last sentence is pronounced his mouth starts giving open mouth kisses to every inch of uncovered skin it finds on its way and you’re scared your heart may stop working it all. It’s the feel of his tongue in that sensitive spot in the back of your knee, his left hand slowly exploring the length of your thigh but mostly his words and that impenetrable wall finally beginning to break down.

You weren’t expecting this. You thought he was going to come up with a half-true half-joke excuse that you were going to resist not believing in. And then get the courage to walk away just like you had planned. But this is different. You know this is different. You know he meant it. You know for the way he was so evidently struggling to find the right words, the hoarseness on every one of them as if his body were still trying to keep them locked deep inside. This is him. This is what you’ve been asking for. But still—

“The thing is you’re changing things for me, preciosa. I know I’m not made for this. I’m fucked up, I am. I’m not good. And on top of that, there’s not much I can offer you. I’ve nothing. And I can’t even take care of a damn cat without having it all fall over. I’m not even close to being good enough for you. You deserve better, you do—but I’m still here… if you want me. And even if you don’t, I would still be here, waiting.”

It’s raining properly now, hammering on the roof of the limousine. The furious rhythm of hundreds of drops almost synchronized with the rapid beat of your heart. His thumb hooked over the waistband of your pants, slowly pulling until your hip is exposed. Your breath caught in your throat.

“You deserve better but I’m selfish now. If anything is your fault, you turned me into this. I want you for my own,” he mutters, leaning in to kiss the skin of your lower stomach. You can’t help but gasp at the contact, he’s barely touched you and you already can feel the wetness dripping out of you. “Will you let me have you?”

He’s looking you straight into your eyes now, he hadn’t done it since he started speaking, and you can see how much he just gave you. You’ve learned to know him, somehow. Not in the way one learns to read deciphering signs on a page but in the way our eyes become accustomed to darkness after some time. Groping and stumbling you’ve learned some parts of him, his outline. That’s how you know he’s asking for way more than he’s letting on. You have the feeling that saying yes to him involves a lot more than saying yes to somebody else. The feeling that whatever it is he’s asking from you might consume you and leave you heartbroken afterward. But that’s not the hold-up.

The thing is, you want more, you want to see him in full light. You want him for your own too. But you need to understand him. Fully. You won't give yourself up without having him first.

“You want me to beg? I’ll beg if you want me to, but then I’ll be the one taking it out on you later,” he threats when you don’t answer for a while, all teasing voice and mischief glimmer, he’s back to the playful Jake you know so well. A little too long of silence and his defenses go up again.

You don’t think he’ll keep spilling truths voluntarily but now that you’ve heard some of them you want more. You’ve become addicted. You need more. But how?

And how are you supposed to think while he keeps playing with the waistband of your pants? Fuck, unless—He just acted on your terms, revealing himself just like you’ve asked him to. Now is your turn. You probably will get immediately caught up on it, but you can try.

You need to play it his way then.

He sees the change on your face and a spellbound gleam forms in his eyes.

“Show me how it would feel,” you whisper and you don’t need to say it twice.

As soon as the words are out of your mouth the sweatpants are out of your legs. Once he has you only in your t-shirt and your panties he leans back a little bit observing you from head to toe, lingering his eyes on yours, on the contour of your hardened nipples and the wet patch of your panties, as if he wanted to burn the image in his memory, the pervert. Well, you can’t judge, you are the same. Admiring how the white wet shirt clings to his torso, wrapping him like hard candy. You may as well lick him—fuck, focus. Focus.

When he starts to slowly take off your panties you manage to find your voice again.

“I can’t believe I’m letting you undress me on the street.”

“You’re letting me undress you in my car, it’s hot. And its got tinted glasses, and it’s dark outside and you’re with me, bonita,” he answers absently, focused on the delicate movement of the silky material as it slides down your legs. You can't mock him at the implication that you're safe with him though, you know it's true. You’ve felt it from the first day.

Once your panties reach your ankles he carefully removes them to put them in the pocket of his pants. Again, pervert. You ignore the need to clench your thighs together at the gesture and decide to tease him about it. He deserves it. And it’s what has worked the best so far. Pushing his buttons it’s what had you moaning in the fucking bathroom of your workplace anyways.

“To remember me?” You ask as innocently as you can.

But he’s done with it. He pins you with his gaze, raising a thick eyebrow at you.

“Why would I need reminding, exactly?”

“Because this is the last time.”

“What did I just say? Stop that. Don’t make me say it again. You know it’s not enough, preciosa. You know it.” His lips back to your legs, his voice still annoyed but so soft you don’t think you hear right: “Will never be.”

For the sake of your own heart, you rather believe you misheard.

He opens your legs a little bit further and then—

“Fuck, baby.” He sounds so wrecked, you feel weak. You were supposed to do something, what was it? “Voy a despertar soñándote por el resto de mi puta vida.”

“That’s not fair, you know I don’t understand. And tell me… tell me more about yourself first, please.”

“There’s not much to tell. And I’d like to do something else with my tongue right now.”

“What’s your favorite movie?”

“I mean, if I could record this right n—”

“Jake.”

“Whichever you’d like to watch with me, bonita.”

“You drive for a living?”

“That’s how I earn some money, yeah. Stop torturing me.”

“But you’re not just a driver, are you?”

“No, I’m not.”

“And is that…dangerous?”

“Not to you. I promise”

“Are you in danger?”

“I’m in danger of dying as a thirsty man here.”

“What’s your last name?”

“Lockley. Come on, baby, don't make me go crazier than I already am.”

“Lockley… Jake Lockley.” That catches his attention back to your mouth for a second. “What’s your favorite hobby?”

“This,” he says sliding you effortlessly to the edge of the seat. You feel his breath near your core and you know you’re losing it. Shit, why were you doing this? Why are you delaying it when you want it so badly? Oh, right, you—

“Jake, wait,” you breathe. “I need more. I need to understand.”

“Then pay attention, preciosa.”

His mouth finds your inner thigh and he’s so close. So close. You won’t hold back anymore. You can’t. Your hand finds his shoulder just to hold onto something but fuck. He’s still in his wet clothes. He can’t stay like this. You gather the little willpower you have left to push him back. You expect some sort of resistance but he moves back with no effort on your part. Take it out on me, is this what he meant?

The way he raises his gaze is enough to set your blood on fire. He looks at you as if he’s about to say fuck it all and push you back to have his way with you mixed with genuine curiosity about what are you going to do next. Submission hanging by a thread.

“Take off your jacket.”

He holds your gaze for a moment and then he does it. Fuck, the power trip you're feeling right now. It feels pretty fucking good having him listening to you like that. More.

“Now your shirt.”

He sighs and begins to unbutton it, somehow amused by how much you're pushing it. Did he just unblock a new kink for you?

Once the shirt is discarded somewhere on the floor of the limo you lean forward to take off his hat. Is soaking wet just like his hair is underneath. And of course, you can’t resist. You take a moment to run a hand through his curls all the way down to his nape until your hand is resting on his shoulder again. He looks so fucking hot like this. You bite the urge to confess it, instead, you lean back and open your legs a little further, an invitation.

“You can go on, now.”

The little smile he’s trying to bite back makes your stomach flutter. You decide to tease him a little bit more.

“I mean, if you don’t want to…” you concede, beginning to close your legs but you barely get to move an inch before he dives right in and—

Fucking heaven.

You loudly gasp at the feeling of the wet heat of his mouth dragging over the folds of your pussy, his groan sending shivers from your core through your whole body. Fuck, it’s too good. It’s too good. When his tongue swirls around your clit your brain short-circuits having at the same the time the urge to push him away and push him impossibly closer. As your hand finds his curls you realize your body has chosen the latter. The movement pleases him, you can feel his smile against you.

“So fucking good,” he mutters, barely pulling back as you feel the movement of his lips with each word. Your hips move forward anyway, chasing the delicious contact.

Fuck, you’re already on the edge. His mouth is giving you everything without holding anything back. Fixed on wreck you from the beginning, desire running through your abdomen.

“Oh, fuck. Jake, I–I’m gonna—”

“Eyes on me, preciosa.” Is all he says but your mind is gone, every cell in your body focused on the sweet hot pleasure that’s rushing to you core. Your head falls back against the seat as the shocks of ecstasy flow through you, your whines chanting his name, your hand holding thigh to his hair, your cunt clenching hard around nothing—his mouth not leaving you for a second, drowning in you.

When your legs twtich a little too much one hand holds your hips down hard into the seat to ensure you keep still but he’s not stopping, he’s—

He’s—

Two long, thick fingers slid in and out of you as Jake’s mouth goes up, focusing on your swollen clit, licking and sucking and his eyes—

Fuck, you can’t. You can’t. You can’t.

His gaze is so deep and strong, melting your fucking bones. You’ve never been seen like that, never.

“Keep your eyes on me or I’ll keep going until you let me see.”

You can’t help but clench at his words, a whine escaping your lips. He feels it.

“Mmm, would you like that?”

It’s too much, too intense. The free fall never stops inside of you. And you can’t even move away from it. You just have to take it the way he wants to.

His tongue swirls, his fingers curl and you completely lose yourself in the pleasure ripping you from the inside. Your sense of gravity changes to where his wet hot mouth keeps taking everything you have to give. His fierce brown eyes the only thing keeping you grounded.

“That’s it. Look at you, so fucking pretty baby,” Jake says in that dark rich voice you love so much, and though he keeps praising you you’re too gone to even hear anymore. All you can do is lay back against the seat of his limo until your heart stops booming in your ears and air reintegrates into your lungs again.

When feeling comes back to your numb body you find one of his hands massaging the back of your neck, the other moving from your collarbone towards that spot that keeps beating strong under his touch. He keeps his warm palm right there in your heart and fuck, he’s still kneeling in front of you, looking at you with Am I forgiven eyes and you know this is not healthy, this is not how things should be, yet all you want to do is to close your own eyes because you know they’re answering him yes, yes you are. Instead, you lower your head to brush your lips into his, an invitation that makes his body go so pliant on you when you grab him and take him up with you, maneuvering him until you’re on his lap and you can finally kiss him like you’ve wanted since the moment you met him.

That first kiss six months ago was tentative and stiff, it felt like he was trying to stop himself but his body wouldn’t respond to his rational wishes, like his mouth was moving against all his fucking will. Yesterday’s kisses were dark and possessive, every movement of his tongue deliberately planned to have you whining at his mercy.

This one is completely different. This time it’s you who’s leading the way. This time it’s you who’s showing him that the despair that’s so evident in the glimmer of his eyes is the same that’s hidden deep down in your chest. And you know, you know, that the moan that sips out of him when you cradle each side of his face and your tongue clashes into his is because he understands what your body is saying to him. He knows.

And it may be minutes or hours, all you’re conscious of is the constant pattering of the rain against the roof of the car, your own taste in his mouth, the way he pushes you closer every time you bite his lower lip, his fingers under your t-shirt caressing the small of your back, tracing your ribs and digging in your hips, the warmth of his skin, the hard muscle underneath, his damp curls when you run your nails through his head, those dark sounds that come out of his throat when you rock against the bulge inside his pants, the slow, steady bone-melting rhythm that completely intoxicates you until you need more, more, more.

And you know he does too.

He takes off your shirt in one swift motion. You feel something icy at the center of your collarbone but you don’t even have time to process it because suddenly your breast is in his hot wet mouth and his teeth are gently nipping the flesh there and then his tongue swirls against your nipple and—

You need—you’re overwhelmed by the need to have him as delirious as he has you right now.

You push him back into the seat and he’s immediately calling you preciosa and complaining but you are already kissing him, shutting him up, and undoing the zipper of his pants. He growls in your mouth when you palm the outline of his cock over his underwear, your walls clench hard in anticipation. And then he shivers when you slowly run your nails throughout his length over the fabric and you know you’re fucked. You will crave this feeling for the rest of your life. The feeling of having Jake Lockley trembling with pleasure underneath you. An instant addiction.

You take his hard cock out and you and you don't even give him time to pull his pants out or take them off before you’re rubbing your slit against his length. Utterly and unashamedly desperate.

“Fuck, baby,” he mutters in your mouth, his tight and raspy voice making you throb in need, his muscles tense under your hands. “Feels soo good, doesn’t it? This is how it will feel like, everything, every fucking time.”

He pushes back a little to look at you. You know he’s talking about what you answered when he asked to have you. Show me how it would feel. You know this is his way to push for an answer. A confirmation that you’re his. But instead of trying to find those words hidden somewhere in your chest you get lost in his deep brown eyes and you realize that all those moments when he looked at you like he wanted to crawl under your skin your eyes must have looked at him just the same way.

“Will you let me have you?” The question leaves your lips this time, yet no words come out of his mouth but a breathless choked sound as if you’ve punched him in the gut. Instead, he just grabs the side of your neck and glares at you with something profound that could be anger or devotion, or maybe both. And then he’s kissing you, his tongue fighting yours, how dare you is saying. A hand on your hip lifts you up enough so that he can line himself up at your entrance and just when you begin to feel that pressure—

“If we are doing this you’re not allowed to leave again without warning, Ok? It’s cruel,” you blurt out without thinking, your helpless heart rising to the surface, exposing itself despite your efforts.

“Ok,” he answers, his voice torn and low, as solemnly as he can with your cunt torturously dripping the length of his cock. You look down, ready to feel him inside but he grabs your chin and makes you look at him again. “And you’re not allowed to say you hate me. Ever again. I mean it. Ok?”

“Or?”

“Or I’ll fuck your pretty little brains out until I have you begging me to stop but I won’t until I’m sure you’ve completely forgotten the damn fucking word. Ok?” He pulls at your hair for emphasis and you have to fight down the moan that threatens to leave your throat with the gesture.

“Ok,” you answer out of breath, obediently.

“Good,” he praises, soothing your scalp with his fingertips. Then, cheeky again. “What am I allowed to?”

“You’re allowed to ring the bell to my apartment, for once.” You laugh but then—

He holds your hips as he slowly begins to slide his cock in, gently and steadily but fuck.

Holy fuck.

You’re so wet there’s barely any resistance bet he’s long and thick and the stretch feels like he’s gonna break you in half. The strong grip of your hands on his shoulders makes him stop before he can go any further.

“You’ll get used to me,” he gasps in your temple. “Fuck, such a tight fucking pussy, baby. But I’ll make you get used to me. All of you.”

“Shut up and just keep going, for fuck’s sake”

“Relax on me, preciosa. I don’t wanna hurt you,” he whispers in your ear, his fingers caressing every inch of skin he can find, his tongue licking the pulse in your neck. “Relax…Mmm, that’s it. Yeah, like that.”

It takes a little. The expert grip on your hips makes you sink into him so, so slowly every inch of him steals a whine out of you but you know it’s driving him fucking crazy too. He’s breathing hard, the muscles in his abdomen jump at the slightest shift of your hips, and a faint film of sweat appears on his neck. It makes you wanna lick him. But you get distracted by how good and how deep it feels and how his hands move from your hips to a playful hold on your throat, until they fall flat on the seat.

“You can go on, now,” he returns your words, a cheeky little grim forming in the corner of his lips as he leans back on the seat. Leaving you to it. Your heart swells at the wrecked and joyful gleam of his eyes.

You try to say something smart and snarky at him but his cock is buried deep inside of you and you can’t think of anything else, to be honest. You lift yourself up and down, tentatively, the burning so good it has so gasping.

“Feels good, baby? Feels so right, doesn’t it? You know why it feels so right, don’t you? You understand it.”

You pick up your pace, oblivious of his words, trying to suppress the hidden emotion behind every roll of your hips. You don’t want to hear those words, you don’t need to. Not now. But he keeps going—

“You have no idea all the times a woke up this,” he breathes, his hands finding your hips again. Unable to stay away for too long. “Preciosa lurking me with her smart mouth and her —fuck— her pretty smile. Letting me punish her for being too good for me.”

He makes you clench hard around him. You can’t help it. It’s his words, the idea.

“Mmm, you’d like that. I’d like that too. I could spank you for every time you wouldn’t leave my fucking head, for distracting me,” he growls grabbing a handful of your ass and squeezing it. “How red would your ass be then, huh?”

His hand goes up to hold your hip again. And now he’s thrusting into you. Reaching places you couldn’t reach yourself, so fucking deep.

“I could edge you to tears for doing this to me.” The pad of his thumb finds your clit and you whine his name in response. The shots of ecstasy are growing fast and intense. You’re gasping, he’s breathing hard. And to your surprise, he keeps talking. “I could have you screaming for—for—”

Before he was forcing himself to get the truth out, struggling to answer your questions with honesty. But now it’s flowing out of him, a little bit of truth with every thrust of his hips. Every word sticking deep into your heart.

“Fuck, I missed you… my whole body felt it even—even when I wasn't myself.”

God, you can’t even process each sensation. And his scent is concentrated in that soft spot on the side of his neck, it makes you dizzy. You’re so out of yourself, so overflowed with sensations and desire, that you only notice you’re running your tongue down the skin of his throat when growls and holds you impossibly closer, just like you wanted.

Is too much. Everything. This is—you’ve never felt anything like this before. Like the whole ground is disappearing under you. All you can do is hold onto Jake, one hand on his shoulder the other on his nape, your face buried in his neck. But he’s asking you something, his voice softer than before.

“Do you understand?”

But you’re too lost on it. You can’t—Your movements start to grow impatient, fast, and erratic. The hot melting pleasure is close once more. But not close enough.

“Preciosa, answer me.”

You keep clinging to him, refusing to do anything but chase the feeling. You’re almost there, almost there, you’re—

You’re suddenly on your back, his body hovering over yours, both of your hands taken behind you, arching you and maintaining you exposed. Making it impossible to hide away. His hand is on the side of your neck, his eyes piercing through you. He’s expecting the same sincerity he has given you tonight. He’s done what you’ve been asking him this whole time—broken down the wall between you two. Why are you so scared to take what was behind it? Because it’ll consume you. It already is. And you know if he disappears again—If he disappears after all this everything it would be so, so much worse. It’s too much risk. It’s all too much. You can’t—

But fuck, he looks so lost in you.

“Tell me, do you understand now?”

At this point, you couldn't lie even if you tried. Your heart is on the surface.

“Yes, yeah. I-I do. Me too, Jake.”

“Fuck, mía.” He groans between desperate kisses on your mouth, then becomes a prayer that escapes from his lips with every needier, sloppier thrust of his hips. “Mía, mía, mía…”

Your whole body tenses under him then the pleasure rips you from the inside, making you scream this time. The hard squeeze of your cunt enough to push him to the edge. He grinds his cock as deep as he can against something that makes you sob and then he’s cumming, hard. You feel his body shuddering above and you want to see every second of it but everything goes blurry.

⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆

Somehow, you find yourself on his lap again. Your whole body a dead weight against him. Your head tugged in the curve of his neck. His hands moving up and down along your back.

Your body is tired yet the adrenaline is still running through your veins. You can feel it buzzing somewhere inside, that’s why you are surprised when your voice comes out as a whisper.

“If you disappear again I swear that I—”

“I won’t. I can’t.”

You push back to look into his eyes in search of any sign that may tell otherwise, but you don’t find any.

“I won’t be long gone. I’ll be back soon,” he reassures, running his fingertips from your neck to your collarbone, his lips gently tracing your jawline. “Apenas pude aguantarme esta vez. No soy tan fuerte.”

“What are you saying?”

“I’m saying I’ll be back. Ok?”

Suddenly he’s looking into your eyes for some sort of final confirmation that you feel the same way he feels, even if he didn’t confess it with words. And you do. You do, you do, you do, your answer to him. Instead, your mouth says—

“Ok.”

He takes your face in both his hands. His lips brushing yours.

“Mi preciosa.”

⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆

A few hours before sunrise, long after the rain has stopped, you enter your apartment. Happy and exhausted, you know you’ll fall asleep as soon as your head hits the pillow. You also know you’ll dream of brown deep eyes and a raspy voice calling you preciosa over and over again.

As you put your keys next to the mirror at the entrance your eyes catch a sparkle on your neck. It’s a silver necklace with a little moon on it. It’s beautiful.

Your head turns to the window, to the moonlight and the limousine below it that you know won't leave until it sees all your lights off.

You had never felt anything like this before, you had never been under the weight of an emotion so strong that there was no way to communicate it with words, you had never been able to understand someone just by looking into their eyes. But then Jake isn’t like anyone you have met before either. And there's nothing you'd do to change that.

You know he will be back.

———————————————

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