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arcielee · 5 months ago

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Devotion

Summary: You are a Targaryen princess with an infatuation on a certain White Cloak. Paring: Ser Erryk Cargyll x Targaryen!Reader Word Count: 5.7k+ Warnings: AFAB Reader, neglect, angst, unrequited love?, kissing, fingering, unprotected p in v, more angst, oral sex (m and f receiving), a mother's reprimand, lots of blood, death, more angst Author’s Note: Thank you my beloved beta reader @zaldritzosrose for looking this over and helping me this story. I Mushroom-tweaked it to fit the angsty plot. This started as an anon request and unfolded into so much more. It is dedicated to my darling @opheliax98 who encouraged "all the drama" of this piece. I hope it you enjoy it. 💜 You can also read it on ao3.

Your mother decided that you would return to the Red Keep as an envoy, because of your ability to hide in plain sight despite the poisoned word that first followed your steps–ilībōños, bastard. It was the same that was thrown towards your half-brothers, but with a tone as bold as their brown curls and brown eyes; they did not have the fortune of their Valyrian roots to hide under, their features often speculated as too Strong.

You, however, were the first, albeit illegitimate, born of Rhaenyra and Daemon Targaryen, conceived the same night that her virtue was called into question.

There was a bitter speculation of your origins that faded away with your birth; you were another nameless Targaryen princess that would decorate the family tapestry, another egg that turned to stone in the crib. Life in the capitol was lonely for you; your father was away in Pentos with his new family, while your mother remained preoccupied with her White Cloak, and then her Gold Cloak and new husband. There was an age gap between you and your brothers, your nephews and your niece, and it was an isolating chasm that placed you as an outsider, a spectator, with the unfocused eyes of the court looking through you.

Your only company was your handmaiden, Elinda, but her loyalties reported back to your mother, and then your Septa, but her complaints were ceaseless, especially as you learned the pathways that Maegor the Cruel had carved into the Keep; they became your escape from her lessons.

It was then your mother requested a knight from the Kingsguard to watch over you, and you mourned the little bit of independence acquired, assuming you would be assigned someone old, doddy, who served as another set of eyes that would only look through you.

You were not expecting Ser Erryk Cargyll.

To begin, he was only three years older than you–it was said his swordsmanship so impressed the Lord Commander that he also recruited his twin brother, bringing them both to King's Landing to serve in the Kingsguard. He was handsome, standing tall behind your mother, long and lithe. His ruddy complexion brought out the blue-gray of his eyes that showed unsure, almost shy with the introductions.

You smiled at him and his lips curled upwards in response, a rose dusting to his cheeks.

You liked him at once.

He was devoted to your shadow, almost rapt to your beck and call. The attention fed your girlish infatuation with the young knight, and you were always teasing him in a way that teetered on the edge of his duty and his oath with your coy questions and smirk. Ser Erryk was rarely rattled by you, but seemed more amused–he would answer you with a frank tone, a welcomed honesty, that ended with your title: it was always, “Yes, princess,” or “I shall see to it, princess.”

It continued on for months until one evening, as he escorted you to your room, you asked him to call you by your name, to set aside the formality. You saw the brilliant blue of his eyes, bright amongst the flush of his features; his tongue wet his lips, searching for his voice. “I could never do that, princess,” he started slowly, his eyes flickering up again to look at you as if for the first time. You saw the dust of his freckles that burned bright against his skin. “My purpose is to keep you safe.”

His voice was low, so serious, and it made your blood rise to the surface. You tried to laugh it off. “My purpose is to wait around until I am able to marry the highest bidder.” It was something that weighed heavy on your heart; your eyes fell away and your fingers grasped into the fabric of your skirts. “I know I will not be missed within these walls once I am gone.”

“That’s not true, princess.”

It startled you, and you peered back up from underneath your lashes, your heart vibrating against your skin. You watched Ser Erryk choke on his boldness, his regret knotting into his face before he settled on silence. You watched him go, the muted ensemble of his armor as he returned to the barracks below.

That moment created something palpable that pressed overhead. You were too young, too rash to even know how to tactfully touch the subject again. The forced return to your norm left your bones aching; Ser Erryk doted on your steps, and you rambled on to drown out the incessant screaming of your heart within your chest.

It spilled over at Driftmark. Your family went for the Velaryon funeral procession for Daemon’s wife, feeding further into the resentment that rifted within the house of the dragon. You slipped away and found Aegon in his cups, deciding to steal some of the liquid courage. When Ser Erryk found you, your eyes were glassy and your cheeks flushed.

He sighed, shaking his head, reaching to help you stand, but you swore you saw the hint of a smile touching his lips. Ser Erryk said nothing, but wrapped his arm around your waist and matched his gait with your staggered steps to your room. You rested your head on his shoulders, enjoyed his smell of olive oil used on his sword and how it mixed with his perspiration.

At the door, you felt his breath tickle your ear, “I will not speak of this to the crowned princess, but you should get some rest–”

You spun to face him, your hands pushing on his breastplate to steady yourself on your tiptoes and pressing your lips to meet with his. Ser Erryk froze with your kiss, his White Cloak tightening like a vice. His palms were rough, but he was gentle to wrap your elbows and pull you back, his gaze rooting you to cobblestone.

Moments ticked away with your beating heart that was now bruising against your bones before he finally said, “I cannot give you what you truly deserve, princess.”

He said nothing else and your embarrassment fed the fire in your blood. You pulled away from him and slipped into your room, careful to close your door. Your back pressed against the carvings of sea creatures into the oak and you melted to the floor, your tears spilling to ease your girlish heartache.

Elsewhere on the island, a dragon was claimed and bloodshed followed. The walls rattled as the king proclaimed his true loyalty and it ended with you being whisked away to Dragonstone. It was for the best, you decided, to leave your broken heart behind. You felt the tinge of hope when you learned that your mother and your father were finally together, and decided to set aside your infatuation of the White Cloak, but instead focus to aid your mother, to help solidify what your grandsire, King Viserys, had proclaimed to the Seven Realms.

That she was to be queen.

It had been six years since you last been at King’s Landing. It was now a place both familiar and strange. The same architecture rose above, shadowing over Blackwater Bay, though inside your ancestry of Old Valyria had been replaced, the Keep becoming a shrine to the new gods who had not yet paid their dues for such a show of devotion.

As you entered through the Barbican, you smirked at the memory of the girl you were before, only ten and five, on the cusp of womanhood that required your gowns to be stitched to fit your slender frame. Now your figure filled your dresses, your curves pressing to the seams and your hair twisted and styled to showcase the dragonblood in your veins, that shined in the amethyst of your eyes.

The queen was first to come and greet you. The handmaidens selected were controlled by Elinda, who watched their flurry to unpack. You looked up to see her lips pursed, her dark brown eyes washed over like you were a specter coming to haunt, like she wished for the earth to swallow you whole.

“It has been requested–” her tone was queenly, but you noted that she would not mention how it was your mother that penned her a letter, “–for you to have a knight assigned. I was advised that Ser Erryk has served this role before.”

His name caused your blood to roar in your head as you turned to watch him enter the room. Ser Erryk seemed taller, or perhaps that was how he now held himself, his pride set on his shoulders and onto his features that sharpened. He was still sinewy, though he seemed to fill out the armor hammered to fit his frame, polished and gleaming in the sun that streaked through; it burned bright in his copper hair that was brushed back to show his beard trimmed to fit his jaw.

The coloring brought out his blue-gray eyes that shined almost unsure, almost shy.

It kindled something within you that you believed to be gone, a feeling that washed away on the shores of Dragonstone and swept to the depths of the bay, buried in the sand.

Ser Erryk looked at you and you could not help your smile. His lips ticked upwards and you felt your pulse flutter anew, seizing your heart again.

Your iron-clad shadow followed after your steps, a devotion renewed, and it returned the muscle memory of his constant and comforting presence as you reacquainted with the old castle. Ser Erryk accompanied your rounds to visit with Helaena and her children, watching your brief exchange with each prince, and even briefer with the king who smiled when he called you Rhaenyra. Your knight then escorted you back to your room without a word, just the chink of his armor with his steps, echoing off the stone.

You paused in the doorway, looking back to see his stance. As he watched you, your mind flittered with words but none could knit together. “Sleep well, princess,” he finally spoke with a small bow, excusing himself.

The room had also been stripped of your Targaryen history, almost unfamiliar despite your chests unpacked. Elinda and the other handmaidens helped prepare you for bed, and a cup of wine was poured but your stomach would not hold it down. They left you alone and your quarters were now a gilded cage to contain you; you pulled on your pale, silk robe and finished half of the goblet, summoning your old courage to slip away.

The same panel opened with ease, but inside, basked in the amber light of torch set in a sconce, stood Ser Erryk with his hand resting on the hilt of his sword. Your mouth fell open and he grinned at you. “I take my oath with my heart, princess,” he reminded you.

“How did you know–?” You stammered, licking the wine from your lips.

He only shrugged, his eyes glittering in the fire. “You seem so very different, but also are still the same.”

You pulled the panel closed to silence his chuckle. You finished the rest of the wine poured and returned to your bed.

Your days at Kings Landing were idly filled. Your old Septa returned with her scrutiny of the woman you had become, her brow furrowing to find fault as you showcased your refinement of a lady mastered over the last half decade. Your afternoons were spent in the company of Helaena and her children, the only ones welcoming your return, with the littlest one, Maelor, especially taken with you.

The time was spent in the gardens with a blanket sprawled out. Helaena would hum songs while the twins played their games. Maelor was content to sit in your lap, his eyes wide to discover whatever came within his chubby grasp.

And Ser Erryk, your shadow, would stay close by, always.

“He will draw his own blood to protect you.” The princess spoke suddenly, jarringly–it was a common happenstance with Helaena, you learned. Her every impertinent thought spilled off her tongue in riddles.

Maelor’s eyes widened with his beginning grasp of the spoken word. You blew a raspberry onto his cheek to distract him, and he fell into a fit of giggles. “He would draw blood, but only if it was needed,” you corrected her, your voice low.

Helaena only hummed in response, falling back into whatever song as she looked over the flowers that surrounded you both, watching the insects that lived amongst them. Her words remained with you, echoing in your head long after the moon began its silver stretch overhead. It guided your steps back to the panel in your room and you pushed it open.

Ser Erryk straightened at once, his hand back on his pommel. “Princess? Why are you still–”

You stopped him with a gentle touch on his breastplate, steadying yourself to rise on the balls of your feet until your lips pressed to his once again. But this time he responded, melting against–his lips were soft and warm, and his beard tickled your skin.

You fell flat-footed to the floor with a smile spreading across your face; he was enraptured to watch the words that spilled from your lips. “I thought I had forgotten that night at Driftmark, but it seems what you said has embedded into my bones.” You felt light-headed, but also embolden by his gaze and the black that swallowed his murky cobalt eyes. “You once said that you could not give me what I deserved, but did you ever think you could give me what I want, what I desire?”

It was a dam broken and he surged against you, pressing until your back touched the other side of the corridor. He reclaimed your mouth with a honeyed fervor that warmed your blood. Your fingers pull away the tie that held back his hair and combed through his silky copper spill. His fingers bruised into your hips, holding on as if you would slip away.

You broke the kiss, breathless, your fingers knitting with his own and pulling him back into your room. It was a quiet exchange, littered with soft kisses, as you helped him remove his iron armor piece-by-piece, stacking the plates aside.

He draped the white cape over a chair and looked to you. Underneath he wore a pale tunic and cream slacks, his outline pressing to the seams in a way that made your thighs clench. He stepped closer, his desperation more controlled, and pulled you into his chest, his thumb pressed to tilt your chin for a slow and searching kiss.

You sighed and his tongue curled to taste, his fingers peeling away the bedtime silk that covered your skin. He worshiped every inch shown with his mouth, blooms of color decorating your skin.

You helped him pull his shirt over his head, wanting to feel the heat of his skin, to feel the golden hair across his chest. His heart was vibrating beneath, and his arms wrapped around your waist with another kiss that pulled the air from your lungs. Ser Erryk tightened his hold to lift you and walk you backwards until you felt the edge of the bed touching the back of your knees; you sat down, your thighs plush and pink.

His hands cradled your jaw, tilting your head back to look at you. “Beautiful,” he whispered before leaning to capture your lips again.

Your fingers curled at the nape of his neck to pull him towards you, moving back against the mattress. He followed, his skin flushed red and his eyes wide as you laid back into the pillows. He moved on top of you, gentle to touch you with soft caresses and lingering kisses, following your guide as you led his hand lower towards the intimacy between your thighs, wet and wanting.

He trembled with his exhale as his fingertips split apart your velvet folds, his calloused touch careful to map the bloom of nerves above. You gasped with his testing touch and his smile curled into his blood stained cheeks; he moved softer, but quicker, until it elicited a sweet sigh.

Ser Erryk was responsive, attentive to you. He was aware of your breathing and soft sounds, matching his ministration to pull something deeper within you, sparking at the base of your spine. It felt different from your own touch, this passion he pulled without your control, and you squirmed from the pressure building in your core.

“Erryk,” you whined, your hips lifting against his hand.

He grinned, shifting to press a kiss underneath your jaw, and your skin rippled over in response to the contrast of his lips and his beard. “That’s it princess,” his husky tone was hot against your skin; your hands moved to hold him close, another pitiful mewl spilling. He shifted his hand, moving to curl two fingers within your cunt while his thumb pressed to your swollen pearl.

“Erryk��!” you gasped, and your nails pressed red crescents into his shoulders.

His brow was knitted with his concentration, moving to litter kisses along the column of your neck and to your collarbones–a gentle nip that bolted the length of your spine. He does not stop, his fingers coated with your slick with his rhythm that curled upwards into you, sparking a euphoria that poured white-hot into your blood, your heart bruising until you feel it rattling your bones.

His other hand touched to return you back to your body; his palms rough but kind, following the curve of your stomach and resting to feel the rise and fall with your bated breath. You felt dizzy, blushing, and you blinked, looking down to see him watching you. He moved to give you another searing kiss that rekindled the same warmth pooling between your thighs.

You kissed him back and spread your legs for his slender waist to slot in-between. He pulled his slacks lower, allowing the underside of his cock to spread your velvet folds, a heady but delicious pressure against your cunt. You pulled him in for a kiss and he groaned into your mouth as you canted your hips, your heart pulsing against his heavy cock.

He was flushed. “I will be gentle, princess…”

You swallowed his words with another kiss, your legs knotting around to rut your hips against him. He panted into your mouth, his arm dipping to line himself with your entrance, and you clenched with your anticipation.

Erryk pressed into you with a trembled control as your heat enveloped him fully. You were split apart with the most delicious fill; you mewled, pitiful, and his head fell forward, tucking into the curve of your neck. “Gods be good…” he rasped.

Your fingers dimpled into his waist, encouraging his thrusts. His pace filled you sinfully, a slow roll of his hips that spurred a pleasure coiling within. You gasped against his chest, your nails biting into his skin as he quickened, going deeper, almost bruising. You felt your walls flutter around him, pulling another guttural groan from the back of his throat, his rasped whisper of your name buried into your hair.

The euphony trilled your spine and you clenched with your second release. It pulled him over that precipice of pleasure, crashing like a tidal wave. Erryk melted against you, hot, pulsing deep within you, and you breathed in his skin, the same intoxicating scent mixed with olive oil and wax.

He pulled away, the tender moment passing as duty resurfaced.

You made a noise, pushing to sit upright and your head tilting to watch his heavy sway between his thighs as he walked back from the basin with a clean cloth in hand. Your eyes met with his and his brow arched in return, teasing; you caught his wrist and pulled him back into the bed, against your heart.

Erryk twisted his face until it pressed into your skin, licking and kissing whatever his mouth could touch. You giggled, squirming until you could rest your head on his chest. His arms wrapped around you.

You did not want this night to end. “Do not leave me, Erryk.”

“I am sworn to you, princess.” He reminded you, pressing his lips to your hairline.

It was not what you wished to hear, but it was all you would get at this moment. You hummed, burying your face until his chest hair tickled, listening to the low thrum of his heartbeat.

That night changed the monotony of the Red Keep. You thought of any reason to pull Erryk away from prying eyes; stolen kisses and touches that lingered, heating your skin. Your eyes now would flit to find him and see that he was always standing close, his gaze piercing through, settled onto you.

When the sun tucked away into the horizon, he would slip through the passageway and back into your embrace, the intimate tangle of bare limbs abed with breathless kisses and secrets shared. He learned your body, an instrument to be mastered and a passion to taste you on his lips, staining his beard. He became your confidant, sharing the mutterings of the court; he was the one to warn you about the claimant for Driftmark.

You wrote your mother at once.

It had been months since you left Dragonstone and you were excited to see her, your father and your siblings again. You were deciding on what gown to wear while Elinda was cleaning up, pulling your sheets away with a scowl on her face.

You laughed at her expression. “What is it?”

She was perplexed. “I cannot recall your last moonsblood, princess,” she admitted, her lips pursed. “I feel that time seems to run itself together within these walls.”

Her words ripped through you, but you said nothing, your expression as solid as the stones stacked to create the walls she referred to. Elinda finished tucking the corners before she noticed. “Princess! Are you okay–?”

“I am fine,” you lied. “Help me with my dress.”

Underneath you were rattled, frightened with the revelation of life within you. Your disquiet settled away, disappearing once your mother arrived. You rushed to greet her, seeing her swollen with another heir in the making. Her silver brows knitted as she looked over the state of the Red Keep, and you wrapped an arm around your side, pulling you close to whisper: “It is even worse than what you described!”

There was comfort in your mother’s arms and you pressed a kiss to her cheek. She looked at you a moment before her gaze fell back to Erryk, your ever dutiful-shadow noted. “Good ser, you have my eternal gratitude for keeping her safe.”

He was pink with her words. “Thank you, princess.”

Her focus remained on him another moment before she looked back to you, her eyes now careful to comb over. You swallowed, unsure, and she said nothing as her attention was whisked away to her purposeful return to the Keep.

The days that followed were tumultuous in the least, with a tension that spilled crimson on the floor of the Throne Room. Your stomach dropped from the wet sound of the two halves of Ser Vaemond hitting the stone floor, the smell of iron thick around you; Erryk moved in front of you to shield you away.

King Viserys called for a supper that evening to mend the ever-growing rift, but instead emotions imploded, splitting the room in half.

Erryk moved to wrap his hand around your arm at your mother’s command. Your father escorted your siblings and their betrotheds back to their rooms, his silver brow furrowing at you and your knight.

Your footfalls echoed to keep with his pace, a numbed process of what had just happened. “I will have to return to Dragonstone,” you whispered when you felt certain it was just the two of you. “Wait for me.”

Erryk looked at you before he stepped closer, cupping your jaw. It rooted you as he leaned to give you a chaste kiss, the warmth of his mouth searing through you. You stifled a sob when he pulled back to place another kiss to your hairline, another secret whispered against your skin. “I always have, princess.”

Dragonstone was gray and dreary as you remembered, becoming a beacon for awful when the news came that the king was dead and that Prince Aegon II Targaryen now sat upon the throne.

It wrenched through your mother and her hands pressed to her abdomen. The day waned with your father plotting at the very table the Conqueror laid plans, while your mother’s screams echoed throughout. You waited in the shadows, your hands pressing to protect your stomach; you prayed fervently to the gods, the old ones and the new, but they did not answer.

A pyre was stacked for the bloody swaddle and you watched the flames swallow it, the heat licking your skin. Your mother was pale, her eyes empty as she watched the curl of smoke rise above, her morbid farewell to her child unborn.

It was the swords unsheathed that pulled your attention, your heart pounding at the sound of his voice: “I mean no harm, brothers.”

You swallowed your tears, watching as Erryk kneeled to the earth with his vow renewed. The setting sun gave an amber aura that reflected off the crown he pulled from his satchel, the same as King Jaehaerys’ and your grandsire after, the same that was placed on top of your mother’s head that commanded a rippled bow of respect from everyone around.

Back inside, any unease was settled once Princess Rhaenys spoke of how he helped her escape from the Red Keep. Your mother forced a smile, her pain still haunting her features. “Your vow is to me, and to my family. You are to keep them safe, like before, like always.”

And he nodded.

With war burning on the horizon, its imminent threat that would swallow the Seven Realms, there was no moment spared where you could speak of the life created. You kept it cradled to your chest when you saw how war-wearied Erryk was already. His heart had been cleaved in two and one-half remained in charge of the usurper.

It allowed a new desperation in the passion shared, a clash of teeth and tongues to taste whatever intimacy could be spared amidst the bloodshed. This ever-threat of life so fleeting is what pushed you to be bolder, which was why you were waiting for him outside the bathhouse one evening.

You reached as he moved past you, your fingers tucking into his waistband to pull him into the shadows. Your royal apartment had a path that weaved as an escape, and tonight you used it to bring him back with you, to allow a moment to forget the inevitable that was coming.

“Princess…” he started, but you stopped him with a kiss.

“I missed you,” you confessed against his lips. “I need to feel you.”

Your room was basked in candlelight and you pulled him through the passageway, turning to dip your hand below his waistband, your hand pressed on his half-hard cock. It pulsed against your palm and you moved closer to place a kiss on his neck.

He sighed his pleasure and his torment. “Princess,” he tried again, but you would not let him.

You nipped at his skin, halting his words, and he smothered a groan while your other hand pulled at his drawstrings. “Let me,” you breathed, and his skin rose in response.

He felt heavy in your hands that wrapped around him. You stole another kiss before your chin dropped to your chest, your spit falling from your tongue and onto his cock.

Erryk hissed as you stroked his length, watching as he jerked with another low moan. Your hand held onto his hip to lower to your knees, your other wrapping around the base and bringing his flushed cockhead against your tongue. You pressed a kiss and were rewarded with a groan that rumbled through him; your tongue trailed the side of his cock, feeling every vein and ridge, and you placed another kiss on the underside.

His fingers combed through your hair, watching as you pulled back to watch you take him inch-by-inch, with your hand holding onto what could not fit. His hips bucked into your mouth, bruising the back of your throat, and you groaned, a heat pooling between your thighs.

Your mouth and hand worked in tandem, working his cock until you felt it twitch with his pearly spend, his briny taste against your tongue. He shuddered, pulling back to sink to his knees, cupping your face and pulling you close for a messy kiss.

“My turn,” he whispered, standing and pulling you to follow, his eyes lust-blown.

You sank into the mattress and Erryk kneeled before you, an altar to be worshiped. His palm pressed to your cunt and his fingers spread your folds, allowing his tongue to run along your slit. You shivered as he pressed further, his tongue now carving into you with a well-known intimacy that made your toes curl.

Afterwards, Erryk curled into you and your fingers ran through his still damp hair, the occasional pause to press another kiss to his scalp. “I am sworn to you,” he was quiet, his voice barely above your heart beat. “But you are so much more to me.”

Your heart swelled in your chest. “I know,” you kissed your knight again. “I… love you too, Erryk.”

He hummed against you, burrowing into the softness of your skin. His words replayed in your mind, giving you the courage that you needed, but your mother already called you to her chambers the next night.

When you entered, she dismissed Ser Lorent, who locked the door behind him. Her eyes settled on you and your throat tightened. Her face was drawn, thinner, a woman shattered by all the blood spilled and plagued by the fact that more was yet to come.

You remained standing, waiting as her eyes poured over you. She took a breath before she said, “I already know.”

It was a relief, it was terror. Your stomach dropped and you looked to see Elinda busying herself with whatever her hands could find. Damn her. “I wished to tell you myself,” you admitted, your fists balled at your sides until your nails pierced through to the bones.

Her eyes steeled in return, her jaw set. “Who is he?”

Instead, you answer with, “I love him.”

“That was not what I asked,” she snapped in a way that both you and Elinda flinched with her words that were scalding with her anger. “Your queen asked who is the father of the child that you carry.”

But you saw her tears were threatening to spill, her face blotched with her anger. You pressed your hands to your stomach, the new habit formed over the last few weeks. “It is Ser Erryk Cargyll.”

She closed her eyes, a fury now thrumming. “I should have fucking known…”

“And how is it any different from what you shared with Ser Harwin?” You could not stop your tongue, her temperament reflecting.

“You truly wish to repeat the follies of my heart, you daft girl?” She hissed, her tears spilling. “We are on the cusp of a civil war because… I allowed my heart to choose instead committing to the duty that I am bound to by my blood, the very same within your veins.” Her hand pressed to her chest, a sob caught in her throat. “And that choice is the consequence that I now suffer every day.”

You wanted to glare, to fight back, but you saw her torment. Her tears spilling called to you and you moved to her bedside, melting into her. She fell into your arms with sobs that wracked her body. She held onto you and you remained, allowing her grief to pour over.

Behind, you heard the other door opening. Your mother looked up from your chest, wiping her face. “Ser Erryk?”

A cold-fire twisted into your stomach when you saw him, knowing at once that he was not the man you were in love with. The imposter knight stepped closer, unsheathing his sword. He sounded pained. “Believe me, I had no choice.”

“Brother!”

Over his shoulder, you saw Erryk, his sword drawn and his eyes wild. “Do not do this. I beg you.”

There was a clash of steel, of heartbreak and betrayal. Your mother screamed at Elinda, but she remained cemented to the cobblestone, stricken with her fear. She grabbed your hand to pull you from the bed, your legs buckling and your heart screaming to stay. You followed after your mother, remembering too late that the door was locked, and you looked over the room for a weapon, an escape.

Erryk yelled when the sword cut through his thigh.

Your fear pulled you outside of your body to see your hands resting to shield your stomach, the smell of blood rich in the night air. You prayed to the gods, a cursed habit, and again, they ignored you.

You blinked to focus. Arryk fell first, a sword splayed through his stomach, and you looked to Erryk, your relief fleeting when you saw the dagger buried between his ribs. He looked at you, his knees buckling, collapsing to the floor with the clatter of iron.

Your mother ran for the door, screaming for the maesters, for anyone to come and aid. You rushed to his side, your slippers slick in the blood that was pouring out on the stone, staining the pale silk of your nightgown. You lifted his head to rest on your lap, your trembling touch unsure if you could even staunch the scarlett flow.

“I cannot do this without you,” you pleaded, your hands pressing around the hilt; his blood bubbled between your fingers. “I need you, Erryk. Our babe needs you!”

Erryk looked at you as if you were the sun itself, a dawning realization that washed over with your words. Your heart wrenched from your chest when you looked at him, a choked sob when you saw the red that stained his smile.

His lips parted, but no words would come. Instead you watched as the blue of his eyes faded to gray with his last breath.

You leaned over him, your tears spilling, and you pressed a kiss to his brow, your blood-stained fingers gentle to cradle the head of your devoted knight.

hotd masterlist || arcie's navi

#house of the dragon #house of the dragon fanfic #hotd fanfic #hotd fanfiction #ser erryk x you #ser erryk x reader #ser erryk cargyll #ser erryk #erryk cargyll #erryk cargyll x you #erryk cargyll x reader

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theostrophywife · 5 months ago

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MOONLIGHT

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🤍 pairing: theodore nott x reader.

🤍 song inspiration: moonlight by kali uchis.

🤍 author's note: high! theo is the best kind of theo. gif credit to @dramaticals

A thick cloud of smoke permeated the air, making the room as hazy as your drug addled mind. Theo shifted in your lap and silently held the joint up to your lips. You smiled down at your best friend, his watercolour eyes as red-rimmed as your own yet still full of that familiar sharp intensity as he watched you with curious intent. Wrapping your lips around the blunt, you shied away from his gaze and inhaled generously.

As the smoke filled your lungs, you felt your body relax. With an exhale, the terrible day you endured was gone in a breath. You rested against the headboard and let your eyes shut close. Theo traced circles on your skin, happily humming away while you scratched his head. Smoking always made the two of you more touchy and giggly, blurring the lines even more than they already were.

Not that you were complaining.

A late night smoke session was exactly what you needed. Usually, the two of you would be indulging in Neville’s newest strain up in the Astronomy Tower, but thanks to the storm raging outside, you and Theo were confined to his dorm instead.

In all honesty, you didn’t mind. Especially since Theo had a generous stash of snacks to pilfer through.

“This new shit is strong,” Theo remarked, coughing a bit as he waved away the smoke. Above you, rain drops pelted the skylight in a soothing rhythm. “How does Longbottom even come up with this stuff?”

“Because,” you drawled, every syllable slow and syrupy. “Neville actually pays attention in Herbology instead of skipping class and getting into fights.”

“That’s the pot calling the kettle black, bella,” Theo pouted as he poked his nose against your stomach. “Didn’t you get detention for taking a swing at Cho this morning?”

“She called me a slag,” you recalled with a frown. While you had no problem with Cho, she seemed to have a problem with you. All thanks to a certain Hufflepuff. Theo tensed underneath you, his anger simmering beneath the surface. “As if it’s my fault her boyfriend can’t stop staring at my arse.”

“You should’ve told me. I would’ve taken care of it.”

You sighed deeply. “That’s exactly why I didn’t tell you, Teddy. You tend to be a little overdramatic.”

“Me?” Theo asked incredulously as he placed the joint on its holder. “Overdramatic? That’s absolutely absurd.”

“I know you hated Cedric. When we were dating, he told me you threatened to beat his face in if he ever broke my heart.” Your best friend began to protest, but you held your hand up. You didn't fault him for being overprotective. After all, you've been friends with Theo long enough to know that this is just how he showed that he cared. “I'm not mad. I just didn’t want to add fuel to the fire.”

“That stupid prat poured gasoline on the fire and lit the goddamn match the day he made you cry.” Theo ranted, his eyes glazing over with fury. “I should've made good on my promise to beat his fucking face in. He’s lucky you stopped me before I sent him to the infirmary.”

"It's not worth it, Teddy."

Your best friend shook his head. "It's always worth it when it comes to you."

“You shouldn’t get into trouble just because I have terrible taste in men.” Time and time again, Theo warned you about the guys you chose to date, but you were too stubborn to listen. You laughed humorlessly. “I really know how to pick them, don’t I?”

“Hey,” Theo whispered softly, tracing soothing circles on your back. “It’s not your fault your ex-boyfriend’s a prick. He’s an idiot for fumbling you.”

You smiled as you ran your fingers through his hair. “Thanks, Teddy.” He hummed and squeezed your hip. “It’s not like I’m that broken up about it. I’ve just come to accept the fact that my love life is a complete shit show.”

“That bad, huh?”

“Don’t get me wrong, Cedric had his moments, but even when things were good, it always felt like something was missing. We just weren’t compatible,” you paused as you considered your words. “Cedric and I weren’t a good match. Mentally, emotionally, and physically.”

Theo cocked his head curiously. “What do you mean?”

Given your longstanding friendship and history, there were virtually no secrets between you and Theo, but there were aspects of your past relationship with Cedric that you weren’t as forthcoming about. Your best friend wasn’t exactly your ex-boyfriend’s biggest fan, so you skimped out on on the details to keep the peace. That was long gone now.

“Our sex life was kind of…bland.”

Piercing blue eyes zeroed in on you. “What do you mean by bland?” Theo pushed himself upright, his face mere inches away from yours. “Was it just missionary and a polite handshake afterwards? Honestly, Diggory seems like the type.”

You snorted in response. Theo wasn’t that far off the mark. “Basically, yeah. I just don’t think we were sexually compatible. Plus, he never wanted to go down on me.”

Theo looked absolutely appalled. “What?”

“Well, we tried and it didn’t really work. It’s not his fault, though. Oral just doesn’t do it for me. I’ve never…” you flushed as you rushed past the embarrassment of admitting such intimate details to your best friend. “I’ve never finished that way. I think it’s just a me problem.”

“Let me get this straight,” Theo said matter-of-factly. “Cedric ate you out once, couldn’t make you cum, and then made you think it was somehow your fault?”

“Cedric wasn’t a dick about it or anything,” you said rather lamely. “He just never tried again, so I figured that was that.”

“That’s a fucking shame.”

You shrugged. The past was in the past. It wasn’t like you could change things now. “It’s alright. Like I said, maybe it’s just not for me.”

Theo stared at you. “You’re just saying that because he didn’t do his job properly.”

You rolled your eyes in response, playfully smacking his arm. “And you’re suddenly an expert on the matter, Teddy?”

“I sure am,” Theo exclaimed proudly. “Cedric’s a coward for backing out after the first try. I mean, sure, it took me ages to get the hang of it, but now eating pussy is my favorite thing in the world.”

Heat flooded your cheeks. Part of it was shock and the other — well, you didn’t want to think of what that other part might mean. Talking about sex wasn’t anything new for the two of you, but it was always in a teasing way. It was never quite this personal.

“Oh,” you said after a moment. Theo watched as you shifted, trying to alleviate the building pressure between your legs. “I didn’t realize…”

“That I love eating pussy?” Theo asked with a smirk. You knew he was doing it on purpose. He never missed out on the chance to tease you. “I’m really fucking good at it too.”

You didn’t doubt it. While you tried not to feed into the rumors of your best friend’s bedroom habits, you knew that he was much more experienced than you were. Judging by the longing stares that followed in his wake, Theo wasn't the type to leave his lover unsatisfied.

After a moment, Theo spoke. “I can show you,” he rasped, that thick Italian accent of his bleeding through the words like it did every time he smoked. “If you’d like.”

You blinked in surprise, practically gaping at your best friend. “You want to eat me out?”

Theo nodded, his eyes dipping to your mouth as you anxiously chewed on your bottom lip. “More than anything in the fucking world.”

The intensity of his gaze sent a shiver down your spine. “Let me show you how it’s done, bella,” Theo whispered as he tucked a stray strand of hair behind your ear. Though the action was innocent, his words were far from. “I’d get on my knees and beg for a taste of you. I promise not to stop until you’re a crying, whining mess for me.”

Desire bloomed in your core, filling your stomach with butterflies. Fuck, why was that the hottest thing anyone’s ever said to you? What were you supposed to do? Refuse? That wasn’t even a possibility at the moment. After all, you were just a weak, weak woman.

“Okay.”

“Okay?” Theo asked softly.

“Yeah,” you answered confidently. “I trust you, Teddy.”

Theo smiled and leaned forward to place a kiss on your temple. “Good girl,” he murmured. “Now lay back, I’ll make you feel so good, bella.”

A nod was all that you could muster as you settled amongst the pillows, watching with rapt attention as Theo crawled between your legs. He kept his gaze on you as he kissed your neck, his lips soft and warm against your skin. You leaned into his touch as he licked along your collarbone, his big hands slipping underneath your bra. Theo unclasped it quickly, nosing at the straps before kissing down the valley of your breasts.

Those dead eyes came to life as he flicked his tongue over your nipples, sucking on them until they stiffened. You shuddered in response and Theo savored the tiny whimper that slipped past your lips. After showing your breasts ample attention, he continued mouthing at your torso, nipping and biting on the way down. Every sensation was heightened by the weed, your body buzzing even at the simplest touch.

Theo parted your legs and maintained eye contact as he toyed with the tops of your knee socks. He smirked and kissed the spot right above them. “We’ll keep these on, yeah? I like when you wear these.”

You held your breath when he bunched up your skirt, leaving filthy, open-mouthed kisses on the inside of your thighs. His breath felt cool on your core yet your entire body ignited into flames as Theo kissed you through your lace panties.

You gasped in surprise, bucking your hips against his mouth. “Oh, fuck…”

Theo hummed against you. “Does that feel good, principessa? I haven’t even started yet.”

With a cocky smirk, Theo slid off your panties and groaned. You were embarrassingly wet, but he didn’t seem to mind. In fact, he relished it. Theo teased two fingers along your folds, spreading your arousal and watching as your slick soaked him.

“Fuck, you’re so wet.” His eyes were nearly black, swallowed by lust as they flickered up to your face. “I bet you’re sweet too.”

Theo popped his fingers into his mouth, pretty eyes rolling back as he sucked them clean. “Gods, you’re so fucking delicious. Better than I imagined.”

You whimpered, pressing your thighs together to tamper the need. Theo shook his head before prying your legs apart and diving in. When he dragged his tongue through your folds, you writhed underneath him, eager for more. The first lick had both of you moaning. He hummed in appreciation as he hooked your legs behind his shoulders.

He chuckled darkly, before biting softly at the flesh of your thigh. “You like that, huh, bella?”

You panted, frowning down at him. “Stop being a tease, Teddy.”

“As you wish.”

His dark head disappeared between your legs, silky brown waves slipping through your fingers as you held on for dear life. Theo wasted no time in showing off his skills, poking and prodding with his tongue. You tugged at his hair as he sucked on your clit, lightly grazing his teeth against the sensitive bundle of nerves.

Theo popped up to take a hit off the joint before passing it over to you. His slender fingers held them up to your lips before slinking down to continue eating you out. As you held the smoke in your lungs, you inhaled deeply, letting the drug that was Theodore Nott singe your veins.

Nothing in this world could've prepared you for this moment. Theo wasn't exaggerating his skills. If anything, he underplayed just how good he was. Theo switched strategies often, starting off slow and sweet before swirling and sucking, fucking you with his tongue like he’d never get another chance to taste you again. Once in a while, he’d come up for air, smiling as you offered the joint to him.

Mostly, Theo was focused on feasting. He made out with your pussy shamelessly, making it as sloppy and messy as he possibly could. The higher you got, the more sensitive everything felt. When Theo found a particularly sensitive spot, you arched your back and nearly scorched his sheets with the joint.

Theo only chuckled before taking it from your hands and putting it out. “You’re on fire, bella. But I’d prefer if my sheets weren’t.”

You smiled shyly. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to.”

He flashed a boyish grin back. “The only thing I’m sorry about is that we didn’t do this sooner.”

“Me too, Teddy.”

He smiled softly at you. “Sei la donna più bella che abbia mai visto.”

Before you got the chance to ask what he said, Theo pulled you by the ankles and picked up where he left off. He made good on his promise, driving you to the brink until you were writhing and whining. Tears streaked down your cheeks as you gasped, moaning his name in the night like a prayer. It only encouraged Theo to show off even more, using a combination of his mouth and fingers. His middle and pointer finger slid inside of you easily, squelching while he worked you tirelessly.

There wasn’t a single coherent thought in your mind as you lost yourself to pleasure. When Theo introduced a third finger and flicked his tongue on your clit, a rush of heat flooded your body.

“Oh gods, Theo. Please. I’m so close. Fuck — ”

“C’mon, cara mia. Cum for me.”

Theo watched as your orgasm rocked you from the top of your head to the bottom of your feet. He lapped you up like a man starved, not wasting a single drop. You tried to fight the overstimulation by squirming away from his mouth, but Theo merely held your hips down.

“I’m not done,” Theo warned with a growl. “Stay still, principessa. You wanted me to eat your pussy? Then be brave enough to fucking take it.”

When he brought you to your second orgasm, you were gasping for air. You roughly tugged at Theo’s hair, eliciting a filthy moan from him. Despite this, Theo was still decidedly not done. As the third orgasm approached, you screamed before squirting and soaking right through the sheets.

With wide eyes, Theo stared up at you. “Have you ever done that before?”

You flushed, embarrassment heating your cheeks as you shook your head. “No — I — I didn’t even know I could do that.”

Your best friend smiled, brushing your hair back gently as though he hadn’t just made you see Merlin. “Did it feel good?”

“Yes,” you admitted. “Was it okay? I mean, was that too much? Oh god, I’m sorry.”

“No,” Theo said in a stern voice as he tipped your chin up. “Don’t ever apologize. That was the hottest thing I’ve ever seen. I like knowing that I’m the only man that’s ever made you squirt.”

“You’re not mad?” You sniffled, lower lip trembling. “I ruined your sheets.”

“Fuck the sheets." He caressed your cheek, gazing deeply into your eyes. "It's still me. Your Teddy. There's nothing that you could do that would make me mad. You're perfect, Y/N."

Theo kissed you softly, his lips pressed firmly against yours to emphasize the words. He was your Teddy. He always would be.

"You're really good at that, by the way."

Your best friend smirked, the cocky grin tugging at his lips. "Oh yeah? I couldn't tell by the way you kept screaming my name."

You rolled your eyes. "I'm not going to compliment you if you're going to be so cocky about it."

He cocked a brow before kissing the sweet spot beneath your ear. "What are you going to do about it, principessa?"

"No fair. You play dirty, Theo."

Your best friend smiled, taking in your flushed cheeks and kiss bitten lips. In one swift move, Theo pinned you underneath him. "I'll show you just how dirty I can get, bella."

He wrapped a hand around your throat possessively and pulled you in for a kiss. You moaned into his mouth, dizzy with desire. Theo slid his tongue against yours and claimed you with a groan.

"This — this is what it should feel like. This is what Cedric failed to do. That stupid prick should’ve worshipped the ground you walked on, but he didn’t. He missed his chance. It’s my turn now.”

Wrapping your legs around his waist, Theo squeezed your ass as he grinded his erection against your core. Even through his sweatpants, you could feel how big he was. You bucked your hips in response, rubbing against him for more friction.

“Oh fuck, don’t do that,” Theo panted breathlessly. “I won’t be able to stop.”

“Who said I wanted you to stop, Theo?”

Theo cursed up a storm, a mixture of Italian and English that sounded equally hot. “I want you so fucking bad. You’re all I ever want, Y/N.”

You smiled up at him, placing a sweet kiss on his lips. “Then have me, Teddy.”

It was like a flip switched inside of him. Theo crashed his lips against yours, frantically tugging your skirt off as you pushed his sweatpants down. They were barely halfway off before he was lining up at your entrance.

Theo pressed his forehead against yours. “Deep breaths, baby.”

Though you were sufficiently warmed up, you knew it was still going to be a stretch. His tip was barely in and you were already gasping for breath.

“Theo, fuck. Oh my god.” You clawed at his back as he inched inside. “You’re so big. I can’t — “

“You can, principessa. I know you can. We’ll make it fit, yeah?” Theo stroked your cheek, giving you time to adjust. “So fucking tight. I can feel you stretching to take all of me. Just a little more,” he slid in further, watching your expression intently to ensure that he wasn’t hurting you. “That’s it. Good girl.”

When Theo finally filled you to the hilt, he pressed down on your stomach, marveling at the tight fit. You whimpered in response, clenching around his cock and making him groan.

“Can I move, principessa?”

Tears filled your eyes, but you wiped them away and nodded bravely. “Yes.”

To his credit, Theo went sweet and slow as you adjusted to his size. He seemed attuned to what you liked and what you didn’t like even without having to utter a word. You weren’t surprised. Theo had always known you better than you knew yourself.

It took some time, but eventually the pain subsided to give way to pleasure. You kissed Theo as he thrusted into you, feeling every delicious inch of him sliding in and out of your pussy. He was going slow for your benefit, but your impatience craved more. It turns out that when it came to Theo, you were an all or nothing kind of woman.

“Theo, please,” you pleaded through tears. “Please, I need more. I need all of you.”

A feral expression crossed Theo’s handsome features before he hiked your ankles over his shoulders and drove in harder. His thrusts were deep and punishing, setting your teeth on edge as he fucked you into the mattress. Theo pinned your arms above your head, watching himself slam into you again and again.

“I love watching your pretty cunt take all of me,” he murmured, intertwining your fingers together. “You’re a fucking goddess, baby. Dea mia, I’ll worship at your altar.”

“It’s never — I’ve never felt like this with anyone else,” you admitted.

Theo softened, his tender gaze drinking you in. “It’s never felt like this with anyone else for me either, bella.”

You pulled him down for a deep kiss, the intimacy of the act surpassing lust and physical attraction. A spark awakened within you, like finally accepting an inevitable truth.

The thread snapped and you allowed it to wash over you like a wave, the orgasm even more intensified than the first three. Theo followed soon after, panting into your neck as he emptied himself inside of you. He whispered your name, collapsing beside you when he finished.

The two of you lay side by side, stunned into silence. You felt breathless and boneless, not quite believing that you just had the most mind blowing sex with your best friend.

Theo glanced over at you. You glanced back at him. The two of you burst into a fit of giggles, breaking the tension.

“Well, fuck.”

He rolled over on his side, tracing your lips with his thumb. “Is that good or bad, tesoro?”

“Good. Definitely good.”

Theo smiled and kissed you softly.

“I meant what I said,“ you breathed as he pulled you to his side. “I’ve never felt like that with anyone else.”

“I know, bella.” Theo hummed in agreement, snaking an arm possessively around your waist. “You were made for me. Just like I was made for you.”

“You knew it would feel like that?”

He grinned. “I had an inkling.”

“What did I tell you about teasing me?”

“I’m not,” he said earnestly. “I knew it would be you since the moment we met.”

The realization from earlier reared its head as you snuggled against him. “We’ve never been just friends, have we?”

Theo shook his head. “Not for a single second, dea mia.”

#i'd give an organ to get high with him and do things that would make a priest blush #theo nott #theo nott smut #theo nott fic #theodore nott #theo nott x reader #theodore nott x reader #theodore nott smut

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felibrary · 29 days ago

Text

╭──╯ABOUT YOU

PAIRING: sae itoshi x reader

SYNOPSIS: when sae left for spain you were devastated. but suddenly, half a decade later as the sae itoshi; japan's prized possession and football prodigy, stands on your doorstep, realization hits you: you are in love with him.

wordcount: guess | content & warnings: unestablished relationship, both are bad at communicating their feelings in their teens, sae nonchalant era, fluff ; oneshot

author's note: yes i didn't watch bllk season 2 yet, so what??1?1??1 my wonderful babe still needs a fic, hard to believe i never wrote a single one for him

“i’m leaving for spain”

sae doesn't think he'll ever forget this moment; forget the expression that you made as soon as he quietly murmured those words.

how his bedsheets rustled as you immediately got up, the way your sudden movements left creases in his once neatly duvet, and how the blue artificial flavored water from the popsicle dripped down on his bed as you tightly gripped it in your hand.

from initially laying next to him on his childhood bed and watching the ceiling fan spin around in circular movements while sucking on popsicles, to you turning and staring at him in disbelief — it all happened in the span of a few minutes — too fast for either of you to comprehend.

as if the humid summer air wasn't already unbearable enough, the impact of those words had somehow made the atmosphere even more suffocating.

outside there were cicadas who were continuously humming melodies, and the sound the fan-blades created as they spun around made it all seem like another day during summer break.

for a moment everything was how it used to be a few minutes ago; how every summer passed by ever since he can think and remember.

the way you visited his house every day early in the morning — rang his doorbell twice in a row and how he groggily opened it every time you came over as he, barely awake, listened to what adventurous hangout you planned for today.

his mother ushering him to take rin with him to go along as you dragged them to the beach and stayed there for hours. playing, taunting and teasing, and laughing until the sky was enveloped in an orange-pink hue.

building sandcastles like in your kindergarten days, splashing each other full of water until the three of you went to the local convenience store with clothes drenched in saltwater to buy a pack of popsicles, and betting who'd receive one of the “winner popsicles”.

(in all honesty sae always found it a bit childish as he grew older, but seeing the triumphant grin on his little brother's face as he won and how he stuck his tongue out to you, made him crack a small smile.)

and how the days always ended the same: you and sae on his bed, sucking on popsicles as you watched the ceiling fan twirl around in repetitive circular motions. sometimes while talking about what you want to do tomorrow, future plans or sometimes even spending those times in complete and utter silence.

yeah, it's normal for the two of you to stay silent for a while. sae thinks as you don't respond and momentarily everything is just like how it's supposed to be. nothing’s wrong, it's just your normal summer day. an average, regular and peaceful afternoon during summer.

but to his dismay, that illusion of his quickly gets shattered. “when?” you whisper quietly, as if not daring to say it out loud. sae purses his lips, opening his mouth only to close it after a quick moment which surprises him.

was he scared? no that can't be. he wasn't scared when he told his parents and rin because he knew that they'd support him — they knew he was going to be just fine — he knew he was going to be just fine without them.

but you?

sae gulps down the heavy lump in his throat before coughing, preparing to say something — anything. “at the end of summer break, so in a week or so,” he states nonchalantly, as if it were as simple as that. (it wasn't)

although he should've anticipated your reaction — should've known that you weren't pleased at all about it, it still caught him off guard. “and you didn't bother to tell me until now?”

“i didn't think it was important,” he mutters.

“not important, you say? sae, we're best friends. do you mean to tell me that ‘it's not important’ to tell your best friend that you're leaving for god knows how long,” you retort with slight anger in your voice.

“no, that's not—” sae wanted to explain himself; he wanted to tell you that he didn't want to leave you behind, and the fact that he only told you now was because he didn't know how to bring it up — he didn't want to ruin your day and see your smile falter.

he sighs and settles for a curt “just forget it, i’ll be gone in a week, it's been planned for months now and nothing will change it anyway,” it's far from the thing he initially wanted to say, but does it matter now?

sae sees the way your eyebrows furrow in irritation, how you open your mouth to say something but eventually you just scoff and look away. “yeah, whatever,”

a week has passed ever since he told you that he'd leave and ever since then you didn't reach out, and neither did he.

from continuous door-ringing everyday to a silent house; it's been long since the itoshi’s family home has been this quiet. only the sound of water splashing out of the sink and onto the porcelain dishes was audible, sometimes accompanied by the sound of his mother's humming.

“sae, did something happen between you and [name]?” his mother asks offhandedly, not noticing sae who was peacefully playing with his little brother, immediately stiffening.

for a moment sae didn't know what to say, because technically nothing happened. just a small miscommunication between friends, you'd be over it soon anyway. after all you knew about his plans now, so no need to be mad, right? “no, not really. i’m just busy with packing and stuff, and they didn't really text me either, so i guess we've both been really occupied”

“is that so? today, just a bit earlier, they came over, it looked like they contemplated ringing the doorbell but then left as quickly as they came,” his mother chuckled as she turned off the sink and sat onto the sofa to watch him and rin. “you saw them too, right rin?”

sae turns to rin, eyes wide and full of anticipation. “oh, yeah. i think [name] also came over yesterday and the day before yesterday,” rin murmurs. “i asked them why they wouldn't ring and they looked shocked to see me, but then only told me not to tell you that they were here and left.” he turned to his older brother to look at him, big cerulean doe eyes searching for answers.

sae hisses, and fishes his phone out of the pockets of his sweatpants, opening your chat and messaging you.

sae: let's meet tomorrow, 5 pm at the beach

you: ?

you: mind explaining what's going on?

sae: just come there tomorrow

sae: please?

you: fine

in all honesty, you had no idea what sae had planned. his messages came out of the blue after not reaching out for an entire week.

it wasn't hard to spot sae, his red hair shone brightly in the setting evening sun. “you're early for once,” you note as you sit down beside him.

sae looks up and you'd be lying if you said that the small smile he gives you didn't make your knees wobble a bit, still you didn't come here to fawn over your best friend.

“so what’d you want to talk about?” you ask.

sae's quiet for a moment, looking confused. “i thought you wanted to talk about something. rin told me that you came over but didn't have the guts to ring, so i thought i’d do you a favor,”

was he being for real now..?

you get up, irritated. “if this was the reason you invited me i’ll just go. have fun in spain” but before you're able to fully stand up sae grabs you by your wrist. “wait,” and you look at him, questioningly.

“what, wait?”

“let's talk it out,”

the way he says it so softly and that determination that those stupid cerulean eyes of his hold, almost makes you falter completely. “if it weren't for the fact that you're my best friend, i would've left,” you mutter in (faux) annoyance.

sae doesn't respond and only smiles. “sorry, that i didn't tell you earlier about me leaving. i thought it'd ruin the mood, because you always seemed so happy about the stuff you planned.”

(and i didn't have the heart to tell you about it, out of fear that things between you and me become awkward afterwards,)

you let out a huff of relief. “that's really sweet and thoughtful of you, i did notice that there was something that you wanted to get off your chest but i didn't know how to approach it or urge you to talk about it,”

for the first time this afternoon you take a proper look at him, how his turquoise eyes are intently watching you and suddenly you feel small under sae's gaze.

“admittedly, i do think i would've been a bit sad, but still we could've just used that remaining time to make great memories,” this time you return his smile and sae exhales.

“yeah, maybe you're right,”

“sae, what are you doing here?”

in front of you stood sae itoshi. japan’s football genius; its most valuable player — your best friend.

well, former best friend.

saying his name felt weird because the last time you remember saying it aloud was when you were a teenager.

clinging onto sae, and hugging him tightly before his flight departed and bidding goodbye as he exited through the gates.

after that sae barely texted or called you — he wasn't big of a texter anyway, but the only times he's ever messaged you was on your birthday, new years and his birthday as he thanked you for your wishes and congratulations.

contact “officially” broke after a few years, the little messages and short calls turned into none at all. the only times you ever saw sae was on some interviews on tv or magazines at the grocery store.

“can i come in?” he looks at you through low lidded eyes, before looking behind you. his voice got deeper and hoarse. you think to yourself.

you don't respond — unable to come up with an answer to provide him. what does one even say when your best friend comes back after five years without any announcement beforehand? sae takes your silence as an answer — yes, and walks by you into the living room.

there are a bunch of questions running through your head. “how have you been?”, “why didn't you text me?”, “was it hard to adjust to your new surroundings?” but none of these questions leave your mouth, instead you trail after sae into the living room where you spot him sitting on your couch.

“nothing’s changed,” he notes as he looks around. you sit yourself down the sofa, although a few inches away from him. “yeah, me and my surroundings might've not changed but that doesn't apply to you,” you remark.

sae remains silent but if you were to look more closely you could see that the corners of his mouth are twitching. “tell me sae, what made you think it's okay to come here after a period of no contact? without telling me how you've been, without telling me that you'd come over,” irritation is written all over your face, but you don't care, you just need answers.

“also, wouldn't one normally visit their family first, instead of ones—” best friend lies on the tip of your tongue but is that really the relationship you have with sae? “— best friend?” said person who's been plaguing your mind for the past few minutes now, finishes your sentence.

“sorry?” you're caught off guard, because not in a hundred years would you've thought that sae itoshi would ever verbally announce you as his best friend.

“you wanted to ask me if it isn't unusual if one visits their best friend first, instead of their family right?” sae asks. “yeah pretty much,”

he exhales, “i already visited rin. i told him to get his priorities straight,” usually you'd ask what he meant by that, but you have the feeling that you maybe shouldn't this time and settle to answer him with a small hum of acknowledgement.

“also shouldn't it be clear why i'm here? i wanted to see you,” sae says it as if it's the easiest thing in the world — as if it's crystal clear, and states it like it's the obvious. “i missed you,”

if someone would've told you that sae itoshi missed you five years ago, you would've laughed and brushed it off, reasoning it that sae isn't one to say sappy things.

stupid sae and the ways he makes you sway.

but here you are, experiencing it first hand and feeling how your heart races. still there were so many unanswered questions and as much as you wanted to hug him again, feel how his body molds against yours, you know that you couldn't — at least not yet.

“miss me, my ass. at some point you just didn't bother to reach out anymore,” you scoff. “do you know how hurt i was?” you whisper through gritted teeth.

“let's talk it out, okay?” you feel a sudden wave of deja vu washing over you, as if you've already had this conversation once before.

“if you weren't my best friend, i wouldn't hear you out,” you murmur under your breath.

sae inches closer to you, taking your hand in his and pats over it. this is so ridiculous. the sae you knew would’ve never done this. this is strange and a change but..a pleasant change?

just for this once you'll let someone into your heart so easily again, this is an exception — sae's the only one who'll you allow to do some bullshit but still welcome with open arms again.

“fine,” you mutter before burying your head into his nape and your arms sneak around his torso.

a feeling so familiar, so right.

“i missed you too.”

end note: reblogs are greatly appreciated <3 + tagging @azullumi hey fartzul. there are many times when i re-read your messages to reassure myself, knowing that there's someone out there who supports me regardless of what. tbh, i think those messages really strengthened our bond and i love that. i love how we're able to communicate so well with one another <3. + i hope with the messages i send you im able to make you feel loved enough; that im able to provide you that love that some people weren't able to give you, so that you feel appreciated enough and know that the things that you do for others don't go to waste. your heart is so pure, i love you more than anything.

#blue lock #sae itoshi #blue lock x reader #bllk x reader #bllk x you #blue lock x you #blue lock fluff #bllk fluff #itoshi sae x reader #sae itoshi x reader #sae itoshi fluff

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yourejinx · 11 months ago

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Late Nights

Azriel x F.Reader

Warnings: NSFW, smut, +18, minors dni. Oral, fingering, unprotected sex, p in v. A bit of fluff? I think that's it.

Author's note: I wanted to try something different, this is my first time writing content like this so please be gentle but also PLEASE FEEDBACK.

Word count: 4k

It was the fourth night in a row that you were deprived from sleep, cursed with listening Cass and Nesta fuck like rabbits in the room next to yours. In all honesty, you loved your friends and were absolutely thrilled they were enjoying and exploring the extent of their relationship, they deserved it after everything they went through. You just wished they had a little consideration for your poor ears and sleeping schedule.

You had been working your ass off the past few weeks, Rhys had you and Az going around the courts every other day, plus you've been dealing with Eris, since you seemed to be the only member in the Inner Circle that the Autumn heir tolerated just fine. So you had your plate full, and wished for a little peace and quiet at your own home. But your friends had other plans.

Nesta let out a particularly loud moan that you clearly heard through the too thin wall. It made you grimace and you decided you had enough. Huffing, you tossed the sheets off your body, grabbed the shirt you had stolen from the shadowsinger years ago and opened the door, putting on the clothing while you made your way down the corridor. If you were awake, then Azriel had to be too, he didn't miss a thing happening in this house.

You didn't bother knocking on his door, you were way past that line with him. Azriel was your best friend, your confident, the person who you most trusted in the entire world, and vice versa. You were too comfortable with each other to bother with politeness. You flung open the door to his bedroom, making your way inside and slamming the door behind you dramatically. The room was dark except for the dim fae light hanging on his bedside table, Azriel had put down the book he was reading to stare at you amusedly.

"Good evening to you too." He uttered playfully.

You didn't reply, just scowled, walked up to the other side and plopped down face first on the bed beside him. He chuckled.

"Finding it hard to sleep?" He asked, setting the book aside.

"They are insufferable." You mumbled around the sheets. They smelled like him, an instant comfort for your tired mind. "Agh! You can hear them from here too! How are you not bothered?!?" You lift your head from his pillows to look at him exasperatedly.

Azriel smiled somewhat apprehensive at you. "I'm kind of used to it by now." He shrugged.

You narrowed your eyes at him, smirking. "Kinky."

He rolled his eyes feigning annoyance. "You have no idea, sweetheart." His voice was a deep purr as he smirked back at you.

You lifted one eyebrow in amusement. There was this recurrent thing between you two, where you usually teased and flirted with each other but never dared to actually do something about it. It was just for fun right? You were friends who just liked messing around as a joke. Always dancing the line between friends and something more, it was a dangerous game for sure, but you had to admit you loved the thrill of it.

“Is that so? Oh please, do enlighten me then.” You shot back, lying more comfortably on his bed. Arms behind your head, eyes fixed on him.

Hazel gaze traveled all the way down to the now exposed skin of your upper thighs, your movement had caused the shirt – his shirt– to ridden up a little, revealing more of your legs and the underline of a pair of lacy black panties. His pulse spiked slightly at the sight. You didn’t seem to notice, he averted his eyes before you could catch him shamelessly staring at you.

There was a glint in your eyes when he caught your stare again, a slight flush to your cheeks, but he didn’t back off.

“Curious now, are we?” He tilted his head, resting his cheek on his fist to properly look at you.

“Ah, don’t flatter yourself, pretty boy. You brought it up, are you backing out?”

Azriel opened his mouth to respond, a playful spark dancing in his golden eyes, when—

“Fuck, Ness!” Cassian’s growl reached both your ears as clear as day. There was a beat of silence after that where you just stared at each other stunned, then you broke in a fit of laughter.

“Seriously Az, I don’t know how you endure it, if I have to listen to them one more night I’m gonna lose my shit. I haven’t slept in days,” you sighed, rubbing your eyes. “and neither have you, it seems.” you pointed out, poking open one eye to stare at him. Azriel had laid back facing you, wings tucked behind his back, shoulders involuntarily curving inwards, a sign of tiredness. You noted the dark circles under his eyes.

“I look that shitty, huh?” he smiled tiredly.

“Never.” You stated matter-of-factly. “You’re always pretty.”

It was his turn to blush then, heat rapidly crawling to his face and neck. He could handle your flirting, your teasing, but he didn’t know how to react when you blatantly called him pretty. It just sounded so…sincere, coming from you. It made his heart flutter in his chest. It was no secret that he found you attractive, he thought he made that clear, but there was more to that, wasn’t there? He didn’t just think you were hot, he thought you were beautiful, smart, and kind, and it freaked the hell out of him to acknowledge all those things because that would mean that he wanted more. More than being your friend, but it terrified him to ruin your friendship. If you wanted him in the same way, you would’ve said something by now, right? You’ve known each other for years.

“What are you thinking about?” you whispered, breath fanning across his face. He hadn’t noticed how close you were. He could feel the heat radiating from your body.

“I’m thinking that we should sleep.” He answered, but made no move whatsoever. You smiled at him and nodded, making to reach the faelight to turn it off. You angled your body half above him and stretched to the bedside table, hair barely grazing the hot skin of his torso. Gods, you were practically straddling him, his mind taking him to all sorts of indecent scenarios. Your breasts were just a breadths away from his mouth, he could make out the perked nipples under the shirt. He loved seeing you in his clothes, but right now he wanted nothing more than to rip the fabric out of you. Azriel swallowed dryly.

What was his fucking problem? It wasn’t like you hadn’t shared a bed before, he blamed his friend’s heated session down the hall. He had to admit it had gotten him a bit railed up, especially with you on his bed, smelling like him. It was hard to ignore the growing want in his veins.

“Goodnight, Az.” You said, pulling back a little to look at him through half lidded eyes, even in the dark. Was it possible you were feeling the same? or was it just tiredness in your features?

“Goodnight, angel.” He whispered back. If you leaned in any closer, he swears he’d kiss you, consequences be damned. But you slid right back onto your side, back facing him.

Azriel lets out a quiet, frustrating sigh, reaching an arm out to wrap around your waist pulling you close. More moaning can be heard outside his bedroom, all the way to Cassian’s room. He feels slightly jealous.

Suddenly you snorted, “We’ll sleep better if we get past the nghs, ohh, right there Cass!” you moaned, imitating Nesta. Azriel inhaled deeply, trying to ignore the way your little whimpering had shot straight to his dick. And the bite of jealousy he felt at hearing Cassian’s name falling so sinfully from your lips.

He scented the slight change in your scent though, a pinch of sweet arousal that got him mouth-watering. It had gotten to your head too, the display of passion from your friends a few bedrooms away. Azriel debated whether it was wise to do something right now, to taste the waters maybe. But you rolled onto your back again, facing the ceiling and letting out a frustrated groan.

“Someone has to teach them though, make them uncomfortably listen for once. Maybe I’ll go to Rita’s tomorrow, choose a random male and bring him home. Beat them at their own game.”

“No.” Azriel growled. You turned your head to the side, looking at him and were met with the dark, lustful haze in his eyes. You felt your core pulse in response. Fuck, why was he so hot?

“What do you mean"no "?" You asked, feeling your tongue paper dry in your mouth.

“Why wait until tomorrow, if you can beat them tonight?”

The offer hung there, unspoken, for a few heartbeats. You felt your face grow hot, felt liquid fire pooling at your belly at the mere suggestion. He hadn’t even touched you and yet he got you all hot and bothered with a few words. You licked your lips, staring at him, shirtless, hair tousled over the pillow, shadows dancing dangerously over his shoulder. As if expecting your answer. He was a sight for sore eyes. It had to be illegal to be this beautiful.

“I’m game if you are, sweetheart.” There it was, the deep purr again that had you clenching your legs together. He noticed the shift of course, smirking smugly.

“Haha, very funny.” you said, huffing.

“I’m not playing.” He pulled you closer, pressing you against his front. You gasped, feeling the not so subtle bulge in his sweatpants, rubbing against the side of your thigh.

“Is this why you kept me at an arm's length tonight?” you chuckled, but he could hear the breathlessness in your voice. “So I wouldn't find out they got you all worked up?”

“No, this isn’t their doing, angel. It's all yours.” He dared a hand down your waist, past your hips, to ghost over the skin under the hem of your shirt. You shuddered. “Tell me to stop and I will. It's okay.”

He lifted the fabric ever so slightly, inching closer to the waistband of your underwear.

You turned fully to him, chests pressed together, breasts dragging against the firm muscle with every breath.

“Fuck it, let’s show them.” You breathed into his mouth before crashing your lips together in a searing kiss.

Azriel groaned low against your mouth, grip tighter bringing your hips flushed together, and kissed you back with fervor. Your hands found purchase in the dark locks at the back of his neck, tugging gently and urging him impossibly closer. He pushed you onto your back, knees parting on their own accord to accommodate him between your legs. It was all so hot and messy. Like you both have been waiting for this for a very long time, it made you throb with need. The thought of him wanting you as much as you wanted him.

You rolled your hips onto him, desperate for any sort of friction, moaning loudly when the clothed tip of his cock catched on your clit deliciously. Azriel took his chance to slip his tongue inside your mouth, exploring every inch and taste of you, kissing you deeply, desperately. He wanted more, he wanted everything. A wave of arousal licked down his spine, your lips were sweet and addictive, he wondered — needed to know— if other parts of you tasted as sweet.

He kissed your jaw, your neck, biting and licking his way down to your collarbones. His right hand came to fondle with the generous swell of your breast over the shirt, pinching at the perked nub. The smell of your arousal hit him at a full force, Azriel felt like a youngling in heat rutting his cock at your core. Fuck, he couldn't help himself, he was so enamoured with the sounds he was getting out of you.

“Take this off,” he ordered, tugging at your shirt. “If I do it I may rip the damn thing off of you, and I love seeing you in my shirt.”

You obeyed without a second thought, too lost in the feeling of him already. He invaded all your senses, his touch sending your skin on fire, his scent sparkling pleasure bubbling in your insides. The rich tone of his voice had you feeling all tingly and sensitive. Gods, you wanted him everywhere.

With the offensive clothing now discarded, Azriel wasted no time dipping his head down and latching his mouth to one of your nipples, swirling his tongue and grazing his teeth around the nub. His hand came to play with your other breast, giving it the same attention, switching between your tits. You arched your back into him, whining in pleasure.

He let go of your chest, looking down to admire you, all spread out for him. Nipples hard and shiny with his spit, breathing unevenly, underwear drenched with arousal, all because of him. He felt his cock throb within the confines of his sweats. Fuck, you looked so pretty like this, he had to taste you. Azriel looked up at your face, your glazed over eyes and swollen lips, and kissed you hard. Scarred fingers found the flimsy material of your panties, pushing them aside and dragging two digits along your soaked folds; you both moaned at the feeling. He rubbed tight circles around your clit, then ran a finger through your slit, smearing your juices everywhere. Your breathing quickened and he bit down your lip before kissing his way to your heat. Azriel looked at you from between your legs, pupils blown with lust, smirking wickedly. He hooked his fingers under the waistband and tugged the material painfully slow down your legs, snarling softly at the sight of your dripping pussy.

“Beautiful,” he moaned. “So damn beautiful.” His tongue darted out to lick a long stripe out your center. It almost knocked the air out of your lungs, your hips bucking off the bed to get closer to his face. He chuckled darkly. “Eager, angel?”

“Az please, stop teasing,” you whined prettily, eyes locking with his.

At this point you didn’t care if your friends could hear or not, you wanted Azriel’s mouth on you, his fingers, his cock. You wanted to feel all of him.

“Whatever my sweet angel wants,” he blew some air into your cunt, making you shiver in anticipation. Azriel dive in, devouring you like a male starved, like he might die if he didn’t get to taste you. He all but full on made out with your pussy, dragging his tongue along your folds, wrapping his lips around your clit and sucking sharply. He groaned at your taste, the reverberations causing your eyes to roll back into your head, hips jerking up. He wrapped one arm around your hips to keep you pin to the bed and switched between harsh sucks and flicking the wet muscle around the nub. The pleasure was all too much and not enough at the same time, you moaned his name aloud and tugged at the strands of his hair again.

Azriel’s free hand reached down to spread your folds, soaking his digits in your arousal before proding one finger at your entrance, and pushing inside. Your walls immediately clenched around him, making you both growl in pleasure.

“Fuck, sweetheart, so tight. Already clenching on me,” he moaned, teeth grazing your clit. You could feel the pressure building in your lower belly, walls clamping down on his finger when he added a second one. You cried out, desperately trying to ride his face. Azriel pumped his fingers inside of you faster, curling his digits to reach that sweet spot that had you seeing stars behind your lids. Words were beginning to fail you, mumbling incoherently about how close you were. “You wanna cum? C’mon angel, give it to me, cum all over my face and fingers.”

His words had an immediate effect on you, pushing you over the edge. Pleasure overpowered you and you let go, cumming hard on his fingers, moaning his name for all the house to hear. Azriel kept thrusting his fingers into your hole, guiding you through your orgasm and licking every last drop you had to offer. He watched you closely, eyes shut in pleasure, soft pants leaving your plush lips as you came down from your high. Only then he pulled his hand away, mesmerized by you. He crawled up your body, coming face to face with you.

“Hey,” he whispered, smiling.

“Hey,” you replied, face flushed and smiling satisfied. You reached your hand to push away the dark strands that had fallen into his face, cupping his cheek in your palm. He looked absolutely gorgeous, hair disheveled from your tugging, lips bruised and shiny with your juices, gaze clouded with lust and something else. More intense even, more deep.

You dragged your thumb over his bottom lip and he sucked it into his mouth, you almost whined again. Breaths coming in short. You brought his face to yours, kissing him with such devotion you couldn't hold back any longer. Azriel shuddered, leisurely kissing you back, you could taste yourself on his tongue. Moaning softly, you ranked your nails down his body, from his pecs, to the hard planes of his abdomen, all the way to his cock, palming him through the fabric. He hissed when you slid your fingers past the waistband of his pants, gripping him in your hand. His hips buckled. He was big, and warm and sticky with pre-cum. You made to put his sweatpants down but he stopped you before you could take it any further.

“Fuck baby, are you sure?” he asked, looking intently at you. A swirl of emotions passed through his eyes, it made your heart flutter in your chest. “We don't have to, unless that's what you want. I think we made our point clear.” He laughed breathlessly.

“It is what I want Az. I want you, I need you. Please.” You watched him with pleading eyes, full of trust and… He didn't dare acknowledge that emotion yet, not unless you spoke it out loud. Although his heart still gave a flip. Pulse picking up.

He helped you pull his pants down, and kicked them out of his legs. His cock sprung free, slapping against his abs, tip swollen and dripping. You flashed him the most beautiful smile he had ever seen you wear, dragging your eyes shamelessly through his body. It gave him a little bit of an ego boost.

“You're so pretty Az. So so pretty,” you murmured, eyes half lidded already devouring him.

There it was again, you calling him pretty. He didn't know what to do with himself so he leaned in to capture your mouth in a scorching kiss. You wrapped your legs around his hips, pulling him flush against you, both hissing when the tip of his proud cock bumped against your clit.

You broke the kiss to slide your mouth along his jaw, down his neck, peppering his sun-kissed skin in love bites. Marking him as yours. Azriel groaned and thrust his hips forward, sliding through your folds, coating his length in your arousal. He repeated the action a couple of times before aligning himself with your entrance. He pushed in slowly, inch by inch, your wetness and the remnants of your orgasm making it easy to slide all the way in. Your walls hugged him tightly as he bottomed out, stilling, to give you time to adjust to his size. Azriel let out a moan so hot and sinful it made a new wave of arousal wash over you.

He felt on cloud nine, his head falling to the crook of your neck, inhaling your scent and letting it intoxicate him. He could’ve cum right then and there, buried to the hilt in your heat. But he wanted it to last, taking his time to savor the feeling of you wrapped around him so perfectly. He had no doubt in his lust filled mind that you were made for him. You were his and only his.

You rolled your hips at last, running your fingers down his sides urging him to move. That was all it took for him to pull out to the tip and slam his hips hard into yours, Azriel set a slow, sensual pace, intended in making you feel every last inch of him. You welcomed the stretch with a wanton moan, feeling the veins with every delicious drag of his cock against your walls.

“Gods, Azriel, more!” you whined. “I can take it.”

“I swear you're gonna be the death of me, sweetheart.” He panted. Pulling out he gripped your hips tightly and turned you onto your stomach, ass up in the air. He thrust in harsher, making you cry out in pleasure. All signs of restraint gone.

Azriel picked up speed, angling his hips just fine so that he could reach even deeper inside you. He quickly found the spot that had you gripping him tight, eyes rolling to the back of your head. Abusing your hole, hitting your g spot every single time, mercilessly. He had you in a state of pure bliss, bringing one arm to wrap around your middle, reaching between your legs to play with your clit. You were so close, already too sensitive from your previous orgasm. Squirming around in his embrace, pushing your ass back to meet his thrusts.

“Fuuck! Don't stop,” you managed out, fisting at the sheets for support.

“I won't,” he grunted, the swollen head of his cock kissing your cervix. “You're mine, do you understand me? Mine. No other male gets to touch you.”

“Yes, yes I'm yours,” you panted, desperately wanting to please him.

“Good girl.”

He was relentless, hips slapping with a force that had the headboard smashing against the wall. He knew you were about to cum, could feel his own orgasm sneaking up on him. Azriel went impossibly faster, pulling sobs out of you. You clamped down on him after one particular sharp thrust and your high barreled through you without previous warning. You screamed, white hot pleasure blinding you. Cum gushed out of you, making a mess of your thighs and his. He held your trembling body up, pressed to him as he fucked you through your orgasm, thrusts becoming sloppier by the second. His wings flared proud behind him and he felt the tight knot in his gut snap. Azriel came with a growl of your name, hips coming to a stop. Your body falling limp atop the bed.

Slowly pulling out of you, he watched astonished at the mess you made, both of your juices dripping down your legs. When his breathing became even again, Azriel leaned in to press a kiss to your spine, making you shudder.

“You okay, angel?” He asked, scarred fingers gently pushing your hair out of your face.

You smiled tiredly at him, content. “I feel amazing.”

He chuckled and laid back next to you, pulling you to lay on his chest. You pressed a kiss over his heart, arms resting on his stomach, still catching your breath. No one spoke for a while, enjoying the aftermath of your actions. There was no room for worry, not with Azriel. Not ever.

He traced iddle circles on your skin, loving how well you fit next to him.

“Az?” You called softly to him, he hummed in acknowledgement. “Do you hear that?”

He stilled, straining his hearing. Muffled moans could be heard down the hall and the distinct sound of a headboard smashing hard against the wall. You laughed in unison.

“I think we may have spurred them on,” he said amusedly, voice hoarse.

“I've never been more glad to have left my room than right now” you chuckled.

“You and I both, angel.” He added, squeezing your ass.

You turned to him, placing a kiss to the outline of his jaw. Silently admiring the hickies you left on his neck.

“How does a second round sound?” You purred.

He smirked, cock already hardening. “Absolutely delightful.”

#azriel shadowsinger #acotar #azriel x reader #acotar fanfiction #acotar fandom #azriel fanfic #azriel #acotar series #acotar smut #azriel smut #cassian smut

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chilling-seavey · 4 months ago

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Dreamland (ln4) - Part Five

↳ A/N This part is so dang long it had to be broken into two. Whoops. But I'm also super pumped about who we (and Lando!!) are going to meet in the next two parts! Strap in, though. It's not going to be smooth sailing.

↳ Inspired By: 'Grapejuice' by Harry Styles

↳ Summary: George and Alex visit Lando in Monaco for a week that summer. Their visit seems to align perfectly well with the week where yours and Lando's situationship is tested the most

↳ Pairings: Fanboy Lando Norris x Famous!Author!Fem!Reader (NO use of y/n), University Student Lando x Internet Friend George x Internet Friend Alex

↳ Word Count: 20.6k

↳ Warnings: 18+, NSFW, angst and less than ideal ways of solving problems, talks of virginity, hints of dom/sub dynamics and possessiveness, name calling/degradation, spanking, spitting, borderline exhibitionism, oral sex (m & receiving), cumplay, [kinda rough] unprotected sex.

PART FOUR || PART SIX

You had insisted that he go by himself. In all honesty, there should have been no reason why Lando was nervous but there was something so menacing about the Nice airport in mid afternoon on Friday that didn’t help to ease his anxieties over finally meeting his two internet friends after nearly years of talking. He didn’t put up much of a fight when he asked you to come and you said he would be just fine on his own - he didn’t want to look like a baby in front of you - but as he stood in the arrivals gate with his heartbeat in his ears, he was slightly regretting not pleading with you just a little bit more.

Lando, George, and Alex knew each other better than anyone else in the world, it was just unfortunate that they lived in different parts of the country and therefore could never see each other in person. Thanks to you, that was going to change. At least for a week. With Lando living in Monaco for the summer and working alongside you and your team at your publishing company, you had arranged for his two closest friends to fly down to spend a week with him. It was yet another reminder that your relationship was something more than just something casual. A title yet to be determined between you, Lando was just happy that he was able to live out his dream of having something with you.

Lando had probably paced the arrival gate a few times over since arriving at the airport that afternoon, trying to calm himself down in this uncharted territory. He was an avid overthinker and worried if his friends would think he was boring in person or weird or if they would find someone better in the sparkling city of Monte Carlo and drop him. Lando tried to breathe. On the outside, to onlookers, he looked simply neutral. On the inside, he was completely panicking.

The large screen above the arrival doors indicated that the flight from Norwich International Airport had landed.

George had arrived first.

The moment he emerged through the arrival gates, Lando was straightening up in the crowd, his mind whirling as George scanned the faces of strangers to find him. Working up his courage, Lando raised his hand up and when George caught his gaze, he smiled widely and started over towards him. Lando bit back his grin as excitement grew in his chest to offset the nervousness that was still lingering in the pit of his stomach.

“Lando!” George greeted happily with a handsome smile and reached out a hand as they approached.

Lando took his hand and they both went in for a smooth one armed hug and a pat to each other’s backs before stepping away again. There was a moment's pause as they just stared at each other with content smiles and their slightly awkward silence had them sharing little chuckles.

“This is unreal, mate.” George said with a heavy sigh, “Wow.”

“Yeah.” Lando shuffled his weight in front of him, “Monaco of all places.”

“I know!” George reached out to nudge his arm, “Who’d have thought it, huh?”

“I mean…I dreamt it.” Lando mumbled.

“I guess manifesting works.”

“Guess so.” Lando smiled lightly.

There was another pause.

“How was your flight?” Lando asked casually, trying to make conversation until the last of their trio would arrive.

George shrugged, “It was good. Were you waiting here long?”

“Not really. Maybe twenty minutes.” Lando assured him.

George checked the time on his phone, “And when’s Alex landing?”

“Maybe forty-five?”

“Perfect. Enough time for a coffee run.” George hoisted the straps of his backpack up his shoulders and adjusted his Tommy Hilfiger jacket - that he spent an entire paycheque on last year - as he scanned the busy airport, “Which way?”

“Uhm,” Lando looked both directions before pointing in the way of the cafés, “that way, I think.”

“Great. Lead the way…and tell me all about your lady.”

“You already know everything.” Lando chuckled as they started off down the bustling airport hallways, “We text literally every day.”

“Yeah, but I wanna hear it all in person.”

Right on time, forty-five minutes later, the arrivals screen announced that the flight from Heathrow International Airport had landed.

Alex had arrived.

George still had his coffee in hand - half finished - and Lando had his hands stuffed in his pockets. He didn’t get anything from the café mainly because he still felt like throwing up from nervousness but he played it off that he had a big lunch when George asked if he could buy him anything. Their conversation had flowed pretty well as Lando grew more confident being face to face with someone he had only ever talked to through a screen but with Alex’s impending arrival, his slight anxieties were back.

When the final member of their trio stepped through the arrival gates, George wasn’t even hesitating a minute before waving to him.

Spotting him easily, Alex grinned ear to ear and raised one hand up in return, calling across the crowd excitedly, “My boys!”

The three hurried to meet up and excited hugs were shared over jackets and backpacks, standing beside suitcases and within the depths of the crowd. Alex had a way of making everything feel a little lighter - a little easier - and Lando found his nervousness melting away faster than before since familiarizing himself with George and now being completed by Alex’s arrival.

Standing in a little triangle, Lando frowned, looking between Alex and George with a playful scowl, “My God, I never thought of myself as that short but why am I the shortest right now?”

Alex laughed and George just smiled, offering him a reassuring, “You’re not that much shorter than us.”

“Are you kidding? I look like your kid.” Lando tutted.

“I’m also the oldest so it makes sense that I’m the tallest.” Alex countered, giving him a nudge too.

“Oh, older than me by, like, barely two years.” George scoffed. “Besides, is age Lando’s excuse then? He’s the baby of the group after all.”

Both George and Alex looked at him and Lando opened his mouth to say something but his words failed him and he simply held his hand over his face with a shy laugh.

“The youngest out of the three of us and the only one who’s not a virgin.” George pressed teasingly, “How’s that fair?”

“Oh my gosh!” Lando blushed, hurriedly giving George’s shoulder a shove as his two friends snickered between themselves.

“You’re so shy in person.” Alex pointed out, slinging an arm around Lando’s shoulders, “You’ve literally sent us a picture of your scratched up back and detailed descriptions of how you fuck the girl of your dreams and here you are barely being able to word a ‘hello’ without blushing.”

“Okay,” Lando dipped out from under his arm bashfully, “No need to be bullying me like this.”

“Hey, you’re like…our youngest triplet brother. It’s only fair we get to bully you a little.” Alex said.

“And it’s hardly bullying.” George added.

Lando pointed an accusatory finger at the both of them, “You be nice to me or I’ll have my wealthy and insanely successful and attractive woman ship you back home.”

“Oh, oh, oh!” his friends laughed teasingly and the three guys shared cheeky smiles and playful tugs to each other’s sweaters.

“There he is!” George patted Lando’s shoulder, “That’s the Lando we know.”

Lando just laughed and shoved his hand away, “Come on. The car is waiting outside.”

“Monaco, baby, let’s go!” Alex clapped once and then rubbed his palms together and the three of them grabbed any and all bags and suitcases and headed towards the exit of the airport, ready to face the sunshine and their week ahead.

George and Alex wouldn’t shut up about the black SUV that picked them up from the airport and took them to the hotel. Just as Lando had only a month or two before, they were just as thrilled about the mini fridge inside and the sleek leather seats that deserved nothing less than absolute gushing reviews. A personal driver to their multi-star hotel. The full Monte Carlo experience.

“You got yourself a real sugar mama, Lan.” Alex tisked through his proud smile as they stepped out of the car and onto the pavement at the front doors of the luxury hotel.

Landscaped with palm trees and coloured flowers, the hotel was in the heart of Monte Carlo and was sculpted as one would imagine a modest five-star hotel to be. In the late afternoon, the flood lights streaked up the front pillars and lined the pathway towards the sliding glass doors into the lobby. The driver started to take their suitcases from the trunk.

“Hardly a sugar mama.” Lando snorted.

“I mean, she is giving you sugar after all.” George smirked over at Alex.

“She is?” Lando scoffed, “Please. I’m the one giving it to her.”

His friends burst into laughter at his smooth response and the driver - already half sick of their rambunctiousness as twenty-something-year-old boys - set their suitcases with them and closed the trunk. They called their thanks as he returned to the driver's seat and drove off, leaving them to their own devices.

Lando led the way into the hotel and past the two-storey entryway and curling staircase towards the elevators and his friends followed eagerly, already talking his ear off with questions they wanted to hear to answers to in person that they didn’t have a chance to ask in the super cool car.

“So how often do you actually stay in the hotel?” George pressed as they all piled into the elevator and Lando hit the button for the eighth floor.

“Maybe half the time.” Lando shrugged proudly as the doors slid closed.

“My boy!” Alex shook his shoulder from his other side.

“Although we can’t really go out properly because it’s Monaco and I’m supposed to just be some interning fan at the company…kinda just feels like half-strangers with benefits but…”

His friends looked at him expectantly, waiting for him to continue.

Lando broke into a grin, “The benefits are so good.”

“How often a week?” Alex pried. “Come on. We gotta live vicariously through you!”

Lando smiled bashfully to the elevator numbers that approached eight. He shrugged, playing it cool, “Maybe five times a week? Sometimes more if we can go a second round.”

“Jesus.” George groaned, running his hands over his face.

On Lando’s other side, Alex was merely gaping and he shook his head, “Unbelievable.”

“Although,” Lando countered just as the elevator reached their floor and the doors slid open, “we’re mostly using condoms now which fucking sucks.”

The two middle aged women who were waiting for the elevator on the same floor gave him a weird look as they so clearly heard what he said as their groups passed each other. Lando went red and nearly rushed down the hallway in embarrassment as Alex and George roared with laughter and hurried after him.

“Have you told her about your little breeding kink?” George teased as Lando unlocked the room door.

“No.” Lando hushed him quickly. “It’s not something she’d be into…not right now. She’s so busy with work and writing her fifth novel…she’d probably be completely turned off of even the idea of a baby right now. I don’t want to weird her out or make her uncomfortable.”

Alex and George exchanged little changes behind his back and then followed him into the hotel room. The afternoon sun warmed the patterned carpet and pristinely made white linen sheets over the two queen beds, guiding them farther into the room and past Lando’s suitcase that was tucked empty in the corner as he had his belongings packed away in drawers and the closet. He was to be staying there all summer and living out of a suitcase would not be ideal.

“Dibs on sharing with George.” Alex dropped his backpack onto the bed closest to the window, “I don’t wanna sleep in a bed that Lando probably fucked in.”

“Hey!” Lando glared over at him and George just laughed, “First of all, the sheets are cleaned every day. And secondly, we do it at her house, not here. Thank you very much.”

“Oh, right.” George piped up, flopping backwards onto the bed that Alex claimed for the both of them and he tucked his hands behind his head, “Then say that we don’t want to sleep in a bed that you probably wanked in.”

“You guys are fucking disgusting. Have you always been this gross over message?” Lando rolled his eyes.

“Hey, you made us this way.” George argued.

“You corrupted us.” Alex added.

“With all your filthy fantasies about this author girl you were drooling over.” George finished.

“We have the receipts if you need proof.” Alex offered.

Lando shuttered lightly despite his light chuckle, “No thanks. They’re probably so cringey.”

Alex unzipped his backpack and took his headphones from around his neck to tuck away, “Too good for our thirsting hours now that you got the girl, Lan?”

“Never.” Lando chuckled with a shake of his head and he sat himself on the end of his own bed.

George was texting away in his own world and when a silence settled, both Lando and Alex looked over at him expectantly. A few seconds later, George felt their staring and looked up, glancing between them.

“What? I’m just texting my mum that I arrived.”

“Shit!” Alex pulled his phone from his pocket, “I need to do that too.”

Lando sat on the end of his own bed and rested his hands behind him, smirking proudly over at his friends, “Imagine having overprotective parents? Couldn’t be me. I’m living alone in Monaco…on my own schedule…”

Alex snorted without looking up from his text messages, “Yeah, okay. Says the twenty-one-year-old who got grounded a week before he left because he didn’t take out the trash.”

George chuckled from behind his phone.

“Wow. Lot of smart talk today coming from a virgin.” Lando clapped back.

“Oh shit!” George laughed.

Alex gaped over at Lando who just smirked sweetly and peaked a brow at him.

“That’s cold, mate. That’s cold.” Alex shook his head, although they all knew it was just in good fun.

“Hey, I dunno about you, Albono, but I plan on losing mine while on this trip.” George said proudly and tucked his hands behind his head.

“Not in our shared bed, you’re not.” Alex sassed.

“It’ll be like we’re all roommates in college!” George laughed, “We’ll put a sock on the door when one of us has a girl over.”

Lando answered quickly, “Speak for yourself. I have a million dollar penthouse to escape to when I need privacy away from you two old men.”

Alex shook his head, “Are we really just going to bully each other this entire week?”

“Maybe. It’s kinda our brand.” George chuckled.

There was a pause and at that moment, Lando’s phone buzzed in his pocket. He casually took it out to see who was calling, expecting his mother, but your name instead was across the screen, paired with your contact photo of a picture Charles had taken of you on one of the days your little work group went out for lunch. You didn’t have many private pictures just the two of you for extra privacy’s sake but Lando was okay with that - the real thing was much better than photos.

The sight of your incoming call had him jumping up from the end of the bed in surprise, gasping before alerting his friends, “It’s her! Everyone shut up!”

Alex looked over at George and they shared amused little expressions before Alex snorted quietly, “We weren’t even saying anything but okay.”

Lando answered the call and raised his phone to his ear, keeping his wide wondering eyes on his friends as they would witness their first real-life interaction between the two of you, “Hey.”

“Hey, you.” you greeted through the phone. “Just called to check in and make sure George and Alex got there okay and the driver was good for you.”

“Yeah, the car was great.” Lando answered, slightly off topic, earning a thumbs up from both of his best friends, “And we all just got to the room now.”

“Good. I gotta admit it’s a little lonely at work without you…”

“Really?” Lando answered proudly, “Do you miss me?”

“Of course. You’re coming in on Monday, right?”

George and Alex exchanged smirks that had Lando holding his hand up to them as if to get them to stop distracting him.

“Monday. Yeah.” Lando answered.

Then his friends started with the kissing faces, mocking him annoyingly with ridiculous sound effects, and Lando turned away from them to try and focus on what you were saying.

“And are we still thinking lunch tomorrow?” you asked.

“Yeah. That’d be great.”

From behind him, Alex and George were snickering together and it made Lando nervous again, feeling so watched even if it were only by his best friends. He didn’t want them to embarrass him in front of you.

“Good. I’ll text you the details and you can let me know if that fits into your touristy schedule, okay?”

“Yeah…that…” Lando glanced back at his smirking friends. “That’s good.”

“Okay.” you could tell he was distracted so you wrapped up, “And the room is on my card so you guys can order room service or something if you want.”

“Oh…are you sure?”

“Yeah! You guys have fun. I can’t always have you to myself.”

“I don’t mind when you have me to yourself.”

Your sweet laugh through the phone had him grinning adoringly and you told him honestly, “I’ll see you tomorrow, lover.”

“See you tomorrow, baby.”

Lando hung up and took a second to stare at your contact picture with a bashful grin, almost half forgetting that his friends were even there for a second. He was all too enamoured by you.

Suddenly, Alex’s mocking had him startling back to reality, “See you tomorrow, baby.”

George joined in with a, “I love you so much I want you to have my children.”

Lando turned around to face them again but he was grinning nonetheless, shushing them modestly, “Okay, okay.”

His friends laughed teasingly and Lando drifted over to the desk across the room to grab the leather covered menu.

“So she said we can order room service if we want.”

“Oo.” George jumped up from the bed and came over to join him, peering over his shoulder at the menu. “Let’s order steak!”

Alex took to Lando’s other side, “Or caviar!”

“Do you even like caviar?” George retorted.

Alex shrugged back, “There's a first time for everything.”

“Okay…how about, like, chips?” Lando pitched, “I seriously don’t want to max out her credit card.”

“Burgers then?” Alex offered, pointing it out on the menu in Lando’s hand.

The other two agreed.

“Burgers and chips all around.” Lando reached for the chorded hotel room phone.

The next morning was Saturday and between jet-lag and excitement, the three guys were up before 8am. The hotel served breakfast and by 9am, they had eaten, been dressed, and were waiting outside for their Uber to get their adventures started. Lando had already been familiar with most of Monaco since he had lived there for a few months at that point so he was excited to be acting tour guide for his friends.

He had planned a whole day - definitely not earlier that week at his desk when he was supposed to be doing real work - and had their destinations written in his phone, leaving a section free for lunch where you would meet them to take the three of them out. Most of their morning was spent around the Monaco Grand Prix routes - dreaming about their motorsports lives that could have been - and touring nearby locations of stars, artsy stores, and any locations that caught their interest along the way. Alex and George stocked up on Monte Carlo merch and George even blew a good chunk of his money on a pair of genuine Hermes loafers that he wore proudly through the square outside the Casino.

When noon came around, it was time for them to meet you at the restaurant where you would be waiting. As Lando led the way - with some help from his phone maps - he found himself growing nervous again. So nervous in fact that he kept taking wrong turns until they ended up a few minutes late. Alex and George didn’t speak to it though because it was clear that their best friend was turning into his usual shy over-thinking self and they didn’t want to embarrass him further - especially not in front of you. Their friendship might have thrived on lighthearted banter, but they knew their limits.

You were waiting outside the restaurant when they walked up, your car parked on the street with the parking meter already running and you were leaning against the passenger side door. Lando broke into a grin at the sight of you and you pushed yourself off your car with a smile that matched his own once you saw him approaching. George and Alex - only slightly starstruck at the reality check that was the fact that you were really truly there - followed slowly behind Lando as he hurried over to you.

“Hey, you.” you held your arms out and Lando slid right in for a close hug.

“Hey, yourself.” he smiled, holding onto you just a second longer than necessary. You didn’t mind.

Lando shifted to stand right at your side as he introduced you to his friends, starting with Alex who had to shift his bags of Monaco merch into the other hand so he could shake yours. When Lando went to introduce George, he was simply gaping at your car.

“Quit staring, GR.” Alex elbowed him teasingly, “It’s rude.”

“Sorry, sorry.” George held out his hand to you just as Alex had, slightly nervous himself to know if he should go in for a hug and especially under Lando’s watchful eye from your side. He looked back at your car and let his eyes scan it greedily, “This is yours?”

“Yep.” you reached back to pat the roof.

“Jesus.” George breathed. “Mercedes-AMG…C 63 S…the silver. Shit, this is literally my dream car.”

“Keep your tongue in your mouth, dude.” Alex snorted.

You laughed lightly and Lando watched you carefully as you stared at George’s obvious drooling over your shiny silver car. He just wanted to touch you so badly…to wrap his arm around your waist and pull you in and nuzzle into your neck…so he stuffed his hands in his pockets instead.

Proudly, you unlocked your car and opened the passenger door so George could look inside and you pointed out all the cool little features that had him completely fangirling over it. You kept it so perfectly clean that it was almost as pristine as new and George was almost afraid to touch any of it. Lando and Alex, waiting on the sidewalk with you and George both leaning inside your car, exchanged little expressions of half-amusement and half-concern.

But Alex ended up smiling and nudged Lando’s arm as he mouthed with a whisper, “She’s real.”

“Yeah?” Lando whispered back with a surprised expression like anyone wouldn’t believe him.

“It’s a little crazy…surreal?” Alex shrugged.

Lando looked back at you and tried not to stare at the curve of your ass in your jeans as you bent over into the front of your car. He tilted his head to the side habitually and licked away his shy smile, “Yeah.”

“Okay,” you stood back up with a laugh and when George returned to Alex’s side with a blissed out smile, you closed the door again and locked the car, “shall we head in?”

“Thanks for that.” George took to your other side as Alex led the way into the restaurant. “I’ve only ever been able to see those cars online…never in person.”

George was only being friendly but Lando caught himself dusting his hand over the small of your back almost protectively as you all entered and made your way towards the host stand for your reservation. You let his hand linger there for a few seconds, thinking he was just being polite, but when he didn’t move it, you looked back at him.

“Okay?” you asked.

He smiled tightly, “Yeah.”

You discreetly guided his hand away from your waist and then took the lead of your little group towards your table. Lando stayed close behind you and when the host set your menus down and then left, he was jumping into the booth seat beside you.

“Dibs on sitting here.” he said with a little nervous sing-song to his voice.

George and Alex sat on the opposite side of the table from the two of you and as you smiled down to your menu at Lando’s claim, his friends just snorted and shook their heads.

Alex tisked, “No one was going to fight you on that, mate.”

Lando’s cheeks flushed pink and he hid behind his menu so no one would call him out.

Under the table, you set a reassuring hand on his thigh and he reached down to tuck his fingers around yours, giving your hand a squeeze. No one noticed. You both pulled away again and continued skimming your menus without so much as a glance towards each other. It was almost as if you were too comfortable sneaking around.

The waiter came by not long later and introduced himself and pitched the offer of drink orders. George and Alex ordered soda’s and Lando gestured to you to order first.

“A bottle of red, please. Do you have Cabernet?”

“Yes. Glasses for the table?” the waiter asked.

You glanced across to the other two who shrugged dumbly, having never had wine before.

You smiled back to the waiter, “Yes, four glasses, just in case. Thank you.”

“Since when do you drink wine, Lan?” Alex asked once the waiter had disappeared.

Lando shrugged with a bashful smile, “Since a few months ago when I took this woman out for dinner and we shared a glass.”

You nudged his shoulder with yours playfully and you shared little grins.

“I guess it’s kind of our thing now, huh?” you said.

Lando’s eyes dropped to your lips for a brief second before he was meeting your gaze again and answering coolly, “Yep.”

Oh how he craved to kiss you.

The waiter returned not long after with your drinks and he poured all four of you a glass before setting the bottle on the table. With food orders placed, your little group was permitted some time to chat before it would be time to eat.

You asked George and Alex about their college careers and where they have been since graduation. Alex spoke to his degree and how he had worked part time at a cat café in London but was still at home with his parents, making sure to spin it like it was a choice rather than a necessity. George took his turn next to explain his degree and goals, how he really wanted to try his hand at motosports but his parents never had the funds to put him into it growing up.

Lando sipped his wine and paid close attention to your expression, how obviously interested you were in everything that they were saying, and he couldn’t help but see similarities in your face from the way you looked at him on the first day you met. He was overthinking again. Between your connection with George over your car to your pitch in conversation with Alex about your favourite animals, Lando was squirming for a conversation switch.

Lando set his glass down and cleared his throat nervously. You glanced over at him and nudged him gently with your elbow, urging him to look back at you. Sitting side by side, you were quite close, and although neither of you made any sort of romance-infused move, your closeness and your eye contact still had Alex and George keeping extra watch.

“So,” you started, setting a dramatic hand on Lando’s knee under the table, “I don’t think you have ever told me about how you three started talking.”

“Oh, really!” Alex’s eyebrows raised and the two best friends looked over at Lando with amusement.

“Did you not?” George pressed, his tone just as infused with teasing as Alex’s.

Lando turned his head away from you to look to the table top with a blushing smile, “Guess not.”

“Oh no.” you giggled, “I made him shy. This must mean it’s a good story.”

“You wanna tell, Lan?” Alex offered.

Lando contemplated the offer and realizing that it could have been a perfect opportunity for his best friends to exaggerate and make him sound terribly creepy, he took it upon himself, “Well…I had this little…pointless…not a big deal blog a couple years ago.”

Alex corrected him smoothly, “Two years ago.”

“And,” Lando pressed on, “on this blog I reposted your Instagram pictures and stuff and wrote little reviews about your novels and little journal entries and stupid stuff like that.”

“Aw,” you grinned and leaned into him for a moment, “That’s so cute. Like a true little fanboy.”

“Yeah and these two were my most avid followers so don’t blame it all on me.” Lando nodded to the two across the table.

“So they were fans of you being a fan of me.” you teased.

“Hey!” Alex and George laughed.

“No way were we fans of Lando.” George tisked.

“Yeah, that guy sucks.” Alex gave a thumbs down to the table.

“Okay, fuck you.” Lando chuckled bashfully.

“I dunno,” you pitched, “I think he’s pretty great to be honest.”

George hummed, “I think you might be a little biased.”

Lando’s wide eyed glare and a stiff warning shake of his head had his friends shutting right up.

“Why biased?” you pried, ready to stir the pot and see what they had to say. Lando tried to read your expression but he couldn’t, torn between whether you were teasing them or genuinely concerned. He had never confessed to you just how much he shared with his best friends regarding your little strange relationship.

“Uhm,” George tried to get himself back out of the hole he dug, “because…you know…”

“He’s your intern…and stuff…” Alex jumped in.

You licked away your little smirk and you nodded, “I see.”

“Yep.” George nodded too.

Lando held his breath.

“No other reason?” you tried.

George and Alex looked at Lando’s stricken expression and then back to you. They both shrugged.

“Oh, come on.” you tisked, “I know that you know. I’m not dumb.”

There was an array of relieved sighs from around the table.

You gaped at them, “What did you think I was going to do? Ship you all home? Like, damn, if I can tell my best friends all the tea, I think you guys should be able to know too.”

“I dunno, we never talked about it.” Lando shrugged, slightly defensively.

You bumped his shoulder again with a smile, “You’re lucky you’re cute.”

“Says you.” Lando bumped you back.

You turned back to his friends, “Did he say I was good?”

Lando spoke your name in exclaimed surprise at your blunt question but his friends just laughed.

“We’re not ratting our boy out that easily, nice try.” Alex wagged a finger at you across the table.

“I mean not like he has anything to compare it to.” George countered.

“Wow.” Lando shook his head while you just giggled proudly and leaned into him again for a moment.

Your eyes met and the two of you kept your eye contact for a few lingering seconds, sharing sweet smiles side by side as the reminder of the history of your strange little relationship hovered in your mind. You leaned your head against his for a second before turning back to the table like there was nothing going on between you. Lando reached for you under the table and you let him hold your hand, only known by his hawk-eyed best friends but no one else in the restaurant around you. You allowed it.

The two of you acted so unexplainably platonic otherwise that George and Alex were racking their brains trying to figure out if you were even into each other or you had been pulling their legs the entire time. Even as goodbye hugs were shared at the end of lunch and you and Lando barely exchanged more than a three-second embrace with no drifting hands or sloppy kiss with it, George and Alex were utterly perplexed.

When the three guys waved you off as you drove away from the curb in your shiny car, George and Alex were turning to Lando, waiting for answers.

Lando was too apparently as he asked them excitedly, “Well? What did you think? Isn’t she amazing?”

“I mean, yeah, she’s awesome.” Alex agreed, “But, fuck, bro, I’m more affectionate with my sister.”

George nodded in easy agreement, “Yeah, I was ready for some serious PDA the way you talk about her.”

Lando just rolled his eyes, “My God…what’d you think was going to happen? We start sucking face at the table?”

“Maybe.” George and Alex both answered in unison.

Lando scoffed despite his smile.

Alex countered quickly, “You talk like you can’t keep your hands off each other.”

George repeated Lando’s confession from the previous day, “Fucking, like, five times a week.”

“And then you barely touch her! Not even a kiss goodbye!” Alex finished, gesturing towards the street that you had disappeared down.

“Guys,” Lando stopped them calmly, “seriously, I want to literally jump her every second of every day but we can’t. Her job is so public and even everyone at the office apart from her three best friends don’t know about our…relationship…thing.”

“Can’t she just tell the public that she’s dating you?” Alex crossed his arms over his chest almost defensively.

“I dunno if we ever are dating.” Lando shrugged.

“Based on the way she was looking at you?” George scoffed, “She definitely at least wants it.”

“She has a boyfriend.” Lando reminded them.

“A fake one.” Alex countered.

“The public doesn’t know that.”

“So tell them.”

“We can’t. It’s in her contract.” Lando pressed. “Believe me, I’ve asked many times. You know I can’t fucking stand that guy. But she insists that she’s not with him and that it’s just PR and I believe her…it just doesn’t make it easy. It’s nearly fucking impossible to not kiss her every second I see her.”

“Personally, I’m not going to believe you until I see you two kiss with my own eyes.” George shrugged.

“Okay. Then you might be waiting a while.” Lando chuckled as they started to walk back down the street towards Casino Square and the rest of their touristy afternoon together.

It wasn’t until Monday that Lando was going to see you again when you were scheduled to pick him up at the hotel like usual to bring him to work. Although he had the week off, you both thought it would be fun for George and Alex to see the office and to meet your friends, especially since Lily - your illustrator - had taken a liking to Alex through social media. Maybe you couldn’t be publicly romantic together but it wouldn’t stop you and Lando from being undercover matchmakers when you could.

At 8:30 Monday morning, the guys emerged from the hotel lobby to find your Mercedes parked out front waiting for them. George nearly had a skip in his step as he followed closely behind Lando towards the car and when he opened the back door, he sent a disbelieving grin back to Alex. Lando took to the passenger seat - of course - and you greeted him with a brief over-the-console one armed hug like every morning. George and Alex were tucked in the backseat and George was peering around the sleek black interior of your car with his mouth nearly hanging open like a kid in a candy store. Alex gently nudged his jaw shut.

“Morning, boys.” you greeted them with a smile through the rearview mirror.

They replied just as warmly and politely as you pulled away from the curb, letting your engine pull you towards the road with such pep that George was beaming and grabbing onto the window ledge of the backseat. Alex rolled his eyes at his dramatics.

“Are you sure I can’t help out today?” Lando asked you.

“Nope. You three are visitors only today.” you assured him, “You’re there for a tour and then you’re gone. No way I want you to be doing boring work on the week you guys have finally met.”

“We’re the office VIPs.” Alex grinned.

“Pretty much.” you chuckled, guiding your little group through the lanes of early morning downtown Monaco traffic. “Although this is a one time thing and I twisted a lot of arms to allow you guys to pop by so just try not to be too too distracting, okay?”

Alex spoke up jokingly from the seat behind you, “Yes, mom.”

Lando turned over his shoulder to send Alex a weird glare all while you just laughed. George and Alex snickered.

Just like you had when Lando had first stepped foot in your office, he now accompanied you on showing around George and Alex. The four of you walked the lap of the office from meeting rooms to the lunchroom and the printing room and everything in between and all the while, Lando was just smiling proudly at you. He kept glancing at his best friends just to make sure they were still listening as you explained everything you were proud of when it came to your little office sanctuary. Finally, you ended your walk at the main open space of the office where most of the employee’s desks were laid out.

Lando flopped into his chair, “And this is my desk. Where the magic happens.”

George snorted, “Okay.”

Although everyone was working diligently - most with headphones on - you pointed out each important person from your team, ending right down by the desks where you were closest to your office, introducing your three best friends; Oscar, Lily, and Charles.

Oscar, who had been trained to nearly follow your every move, was already at your side once you approached the area and he held a few files in his hands, insisting that you prepare for your afternoon media interview. You spoke to him quietly for a second, leaving the guys to busy themselves.

Both Charles and Lily were at their respective desks with their headphones on and their minds busy with their work. George was sitting on the side of Lando’s desk and staring at everything he could possibly stare at, just taking it all in.

Alex, on the other hand, was pacing slowly, skimming the busy office and the dedicated workers that took it up. Lily’s desk was somewhat close to Lando’s and, being the next person nearby, he approached her quietly with his hands behind his back. She was clicking and typing away on her laptop as she edited one of her mockups; she knew your taste well after so long of working together. Alex watched from over her shoulder for a few seconds, going unnoticed by her, and when his gaze shifted from her screen, he scanned her desk. It was busy with some of the work she needed to have on hand but still quite organized and a few trinkets littered the corner.

He smiled at the sight of the little golfer figurine and he stepped closer casually to poke its bobblehead, making the head with the visor sway to and fro. The sudden close presence had Lily startling out of her zone and she literally jumped at the movement of his hand into her space.

“Sorry!” Alex took his hand back quickly.

She pulled off her headphones and turned to him, “What are-”

Her words halted.

“Sorry.” Alex repeated. He cleared his throat and then gestured to the golfer again, “Just liked your little dude there.”

Lily followed his point to the bobblehead and then she looked back up at him, “I…thanks.”

He glanced over his shoulder towards Lando and George who were watching him casually and he turned back to her, “I’m just here with Lando…he’s my best friend.”

Lily nodded with a small smile, “I know.”

“Right.” Alex chuckled. “Of course you know.”

There was a pause.

Lily looked back to her golfer bobblehead that had been gifted to her by yourself on her one year anniversary of working with you. She directed a casual question to the handsome young man who had somehow helped himself to her desk, “So you like golf?”

“Yeah.” Alex answered easily, “But I’m so shit.”

The shared light laughter.

“That’s so cool.” Lily replied, “I love it too. Have you given the Monaco course a try?”

“No, not that I could even afford a round.” Alex snorted, suddenly realizing how uncool he sounded.

Lily offered him a sweet smile and a little shrug, “I mean, you can always come with me sometime. I have a membership.”

Alex gaped, “Really?”

“Yeah, definitely! I’m in desperate need of a golfing partner. None of my friends ever want to come.”

“Seriously. I’m so down.” Alex offered honestly.

“Alright then.” Lily shared in his grin.

“Lily!”

Your call from a few metres away had them both looking over at you as if they had been caught doing something they weren’t supposed to. Their shocked expressions had you peaking a brow.

“Was gonna ask if you wanted lunch? Oscar’s gonna order something.”

Lily nodded, “Yeah. Sounds good.”

“And our guests have to get going…I have to prep for that Zoom later.”

Alex quickly shoved his phone at Lily, “Can I have your Instagram or something? We can keep discussing this later if you want?”

She laughed lightly, “We already follow each other.”

“Oh.” Alex could have mentally punched himself in the face, “Right! Yes, I knew that. Sorry.”

She simply giggled and set her gentle hand on his forearm as if to reassure him with a soft, “I’ll message you.”

“Yeah. See ya.” Alex took a step back, “And sorry again for scaring you.”

“That’s okay.” she smiled bashfully and turned back her laptop.

Lando, George, and you were already heading for the elevator and he followed after you quickly with a beaming smile across his face, sliding his phone back into his pocket.

“Was wondering how quickly you and Lily were going to find each other.” you chuckled knowingly as your little group waited for the elevator to arrive.

Alex just licked away his smile and took one last glance over his shoulder towards the row of desks across the office. George nudged him as the elevator doors slid open.

Stepping inside, the four of you had a moment away from the looming public and Lando slid his hand into yours easily as if the four walls of the office elevator had already seen enough of your secrecy before. You smiled over at him, letting the presence of his two best friends on his other side fade away as they fell into quiet discussion over two of your friends.

“You have a good week, okay?” you told Lando gently, “Enjoy not having to work. I’m jealous.”

“But does this mean I won’t see you all week?” he pouted slightly, keeping his gaze on your face.

“You can see me whenever you want…but I want you to enjoy yourself with your friends too.” you replied, reaching over to rest your hand against his chest. “Okay?”

Lando nodded, speaking quietly to your lips, “I know. Thank you.”

“You’re so welcome.” you smiled.

He leaned in towards you naturally and your hand slid up his chest to wrap around the back of his neck as you met each other halfway for a soft kiss. Lips locked softly, you both lingered there for a moment as the elevator beeped past floor after floor. Only a few seconds later, you were moving back for a lick to your lips and the gentle sound of your kiss had Alex and George whipping their heads around to look, their conversation immediately dropped.

Lando could feel their eyes on the back of his head and he smiled proudly as he leaned back in towards you and captured your lips with his own. Sharing a few more gentle kisses, you were soon leading him away by your hand back against his chest and you grinned to the elevator screen as the ground floor approached. Lando leaned in once more to kiss your cheek and then you had to let go of each other’s hands to face the public reality once more.

George and Alex were deer in headlights next to the pair of you, startled by the sudden display of affection you shared and the fact that you had shared it literally right beside them. Meanwhile, Lando was walking on air and as you said your goodbyes and they headed for the bus stop, he was literally radiating.

Once you were out of earshot, his best friends nearly jumped on him, tugging at his shirt and cheering dramatically for such an innocent kiss. Lando wasn’t totally sure what the big deal was - you had done plenty more than that - but he basked in the attention with pride over the fact that he had you and his best friends held the proof.

Monday moulded quickly into Tuesday, the days speeding by with trips all over the Principality and the South of France. As Tuesday ended with a tennis match for the guys and an Uber back to the hotel from the game after a long day, Lando found himself missing you more and more. Laying alone in his hotel room bed, he added up the days it had been since he had been able to fall asleep with you and he dramatically came to the conclusion that he hadn’t gone that long without you sleeping beside him since before he came to Monaco. He didn’t necessarily appreciate that discovery.

So, to take matters into his own hands, he let his friends keep themselves busy on Wednesday morning as he insisted that he visit the office for lunch. Alex and George didn’t put up much of an argument and they made a plan to meet Lando after at a location to be determined.

Under the sunny Monte Carlo sky, Lando took the bus farther into downtown to locate the street where the office building was located and he got off a bit early in order to make a pitstop on his way. He first stopped by a florist that housed the most vibrant arrangements of flowers along the sidewalk with chalkboard signs and billowing awnings that reminded him of France and he took his time walking along the rows of water filled pots to find the perfect little bouquet.

With a bunch of pink peonies in hand and wrapped prettily in paper and cellophane, Lando continued a few stores down to a small bistro. He ordered your favourite pasta that you would always get when you went there - he always paid attention to every little thing about you…you were his dream girl after all and he would take any and every chance to impress you - and then he skimmed their wine list.

“Anything of interest, sir?” the waiter asked when he returned from punching in the pasta order.

Lando, who had virtually no experience in ordering wine, hesitated, “Uhm…I want something red.”

“Aged?”

Lando bit his lip, “Yes…old?”

The waiter smiled knowingly at the inexperience of his customer and leaned over the counter to look at the drink menu with him, “Our house wine is good to start off with.”

“Oh, it’s not for me.” Lando said, deciding to chance his invisibility in public without you at his side and therefore not being associated with him, “It’s for my girlfriend.”

The word tasted too good on his tongue and he looked back down at the menu to hide the rouge that dusted his cheeks, a red that burned as deep as the wine he was ordering.

“I see. She enjoys red?” the waiter asked.

“Prefers it.” Lando nodded.

“Then how about our Cabernet Sauvignon? Grown just outside Nice in local vineyards. Aged to perfection.”

Lando shrugged, convinced, “Sure. If that’s what you think is best.”

So he ended up with a bag of take out pasta, a bottle of red, and a bouquet of flowers in his arms as he took the elevator in the office up to the familiar floor. Maybe it looked suspicious that he was bringing you lunch when he had a week off but he missed you too much and he was willing to risk it for a romantic gesture as such. It had him brushing off the slightly confused smile in greeting from the secretary as he walked past and towards your office. He stopped outside the glass wall and peeked inside, only to find your desk empty.

“Lando.”

The sharp whisper had him turning around to see Oscar hurrying over to him. A few of the other employees were glancing at him from their desks, probably just as confused over his appearance with a strange combination of items.

“Hey, Osc.” Lando smiled coolly.

Oscar grabbed his arm and yanked him into your empty office, shutting the glass door behind the two of them.

“What are you doing here?” he spoke quietly but sternly, eyeing the items he was carrying.

“I brought her lunch.” Lando answered softly, “And flowers. Because I missed her.”

Oscar glanced back out to the office, his arms folded over her chest.

Lando followed his gaze, “Where is she?”

They looked back at each other.

“She’s in a meeting.” Oscar answered.

“Okay. I can wait.”

“That’s not a good idea. Not with all this.” he gestured to the flowers, “What were you thinking? What kind of message does this send?”

Lando pouted, “A nice one?”

Oscar sighed, “Yes, it’s nice but not for the office. This is so risky. Especially today.”

“Why especially today?” Lando frowned.

His obvious pout had Oscar pausing, staring at the sweet blush on his cheeks and the pleading look in his green eyes, his arms full of caring gifts for Oscar’s best friend. Oscar huffed and dropped his arms into a shrug.

“It’s not my place.” he admitted in half defeat, “You’re right, it’s a nice gift.”

“I just wanted to bring her lunch.” Lando mumbled.

“I know. That was nice of you.”

“I won’t get in the way.”

“I know.”

“Is the meeting almost done?”

Oscar glanced back at the analog clock on the wall above your desk and then answered him, “Momentarily probably.”

“Can I wait here?”

“Sure, but I have to tell her that you’re here.”

“That’s fine.”

Oscar brushed past him and he turned to watch him go, only finding the reason behind his slight panic the moment his eyes caught sight of the subject oncoming down the hall. Lando had to grip tighter onto the items in his arms as the slender brunette figure walking at your side had a fictitious knife jamming itself right into Lando’s heart.

He had only ever seen pictures of your PR boyfriend, suffered through months and months of watching through social media and news coverages of your dates, your sickening comments on each other’s posts, and everything in between that made him feel his lunch in the back of his throat. Now he knew it was all a facade now but the mere sight of him had Lando’s fight or flight triggering.

Oscar couldn’t get a single word out before you had already spotted Lando through the glass wall of your office. He had never seen your face fall at the sight of him before that moment. He swallowed. The man at your side locked eyes with him.

Lando turned away from the hallway as he took a deep trembling breath, “Shit.”

The office door opened and in you came. Lando glanced back to the hallway and Oscar could barely send him a pitied glance, Charles with wide eyes beside him, staring back at him, before you were in his line of vision.

“Who’s this?” the brunette asked, standing almost protectively right at your side, his words laced in a pristine French accent. Lando could have vomited on his brown designer boots.

“Oh…this is Lando,” you introduced as calmly, coolly, as you could. “My intern.”

The fictitious knife twisted in Lando’s chest.

You unknowingly dug it deeper as you gave skewed context to the man beside you, “Y’know…the fan I flew out for the summer?”

“Ah, that’s right.” he snapped his fingers as if it all came back to him. He then held out his hand to Lando with an honest smile, “Nice to meet you. I’m Pierre. I’m her boyfriend.”

“Yeah.” Lando exhaled shakily but he didn’t have a hand free to take his. The cellophane that the flowers were wrapped in crinkled under Lando’s white knuckled grip.

You spoke to him plainly, “What are you doing here? Isn’t it your day off?”

Lando’s eyes searched yours. He wasn’t prepared for this…what it all meant…what he was allowed to say.

“I…just picked you up lunch.” Lando tried.

“Right.” you played it off expertly, shooting a smile to the slender Frenchman at your side, “I forgot I had sent for it.”

Lando pulled a tight smile as you took the take out bag and the wine from him.

“Thank you.” you said, drifting past him to set them on your desk.

Pierre gestured to the flowers that Lando still held, “The flowers?”

“I asked.” you grabbed them right out of Lando’s hand and barely gave him a second look, your own heart hammering in your chest, as you hurried back across your spacious office to set the bouquet in the empty vase on the table by the window, “Just kinda…brightens up the place.”

“They’re nice.” your boyfriend smiled and nodded.

“Yeah.” you turned back to Lando, “Thanks.”

Lando’s voice wavered as he answered, “You’re welcome.”

“Anything else?” you asked him, although your eyes nearly begged him to leave.

Pierre drifted over to you again and draped his arm around your back.

Lando swallowed back the lump in his throat and he took a step back, “Nope.”

“Okay. See ya.” you said.

“Yep.” Lando nearly walked right into the glass wall before his shaking hand found the door handle. He yanked it open and hurried out into the main office space, sniffling casually as his hands jammed into his pockets and he bit his lip so hard it hurt. Lily, Charles, and Oscar watched from their desks as he hightailed it towards the elevator.

But, as your door closed slowly behind him, he caught your boyfriend speaking to you softly, “It’s cute…you can tell he’s a fan; his voice shakes when he talks to you.”

Lando didn’t wait around long enough to hear your response.

It wasn’t until Lando reached his hotel room that the reality of the situation settled in and - just his luck - his best friends weren’t there. Struggling to keep his breathing controlled as his eyes burned with tears, he pulled out his phone as he started to pace up and down the length of the carpeted room. The fact that he had no message from you only made him more upset and he opened the group chat with his friends.

landonorris: Where r u georgerussell63: We’re eating lunch at this place a few streets down from the hotel georgerussell63: You’re done already?? landonorris: No landonorris: It went really shitty landonorris: Are you almost done landonorris: Can you come back georgerussell63: I mean our food JUST got here…do you wanna meet us here? Tell us about what happened and maybe eat? landonorris: No I can’t landonorris: I’m losing my shit rn I can’t be in public georgerussell63: Fuck mate that bad?? georgerussell63: Wtf happened?? alex_albon: George is a horrible texter when he’s speaking for the both of us alex_albon: We’re coming Lan just hold tight a few minutes landonorris: k

Lando sat himself down on the end of his bed and exited the group chat, being faced with some fan account’s repost of Pierre’s story. It was a picture of you - of course - as you ate your pasta at your desk with the bottle of wine and bouquet of flowers just barely visible in the side of the frame. The caption on the repost was something from the fan expressing her excitement over how ‘cute’ you were and how ‘perfect’ he was for bringing you lunch and flowers. Lando wanted to throw up.

He opened up his message thread with you, ready to send you some angry note but his thumbs hovered over the keyboard without pressing a button. The last messages stared back at him; your exchange of hearts and kissy emojis and Lando had to rub his hand over his chest from the ache in his heart that lingered.

The sound of the hotel room door opening startled him - not having expected his friends so soon - but Lando jumped up from his bed to meet them, his face a mix of emotional and pathetic expression. George and Alex were just as wide eyed and not knowing what they were going to be walking into, take-out bags in hand. Lando’s bottom lip trembled over the fact that his friends skipped their lunch for him and the emotions that overtook him from the last hour and he pressed the heels of his palms against his eyes to try not cry in front of them.

“Fuck.” he said through his teeth.

“Shit, mate, what the fuck happened?” Alex set his takeout bag on the counter and George did the same, the two older friends hurrying over to tend to the obviously distraught youngest.

“He was there!” Lando said loudly, dropping his hands. He had to explain but your boyfriend’s name always tasted bitter on his tongue so he settled for the codename that he and his two best friends had made back when your relationship went public, “Fuckin’…guillotine.”

George and Alex’s eyes only widened more.

“Oh-“ Alex stumbled out.

“Did he say something?” George pried.

“H-He was nice but he clearly doesn’t know who I am and she didn’t bother telling him!” Lando continued loudly, “I brought her her favourite lunch and favourite flowers and even a bottle of red wine and she…she played it like she had told me to pick it up for her. She introduced me as her intern. As the fan.”

“I mean…was the entire workplace listening?” George offered an excuse.

“No!” Lando answered, “It was just the three of us in her office and he was just…he was looking at me! I wanted to punch him in the face! Putting his arm around her…talking to me like I’m a kid! ‘Oh he’s definitely a fan…how cute’. Shut the fuck up. I’d like to hear him try and call me cute again after he finds out the way I fuck her.”

George and Alex smothered their shocked laughter over Lando’s quick snap back.

Alex spoke first, “She was probably just surprised that you were there and didn’t know what to do.”

Lando only continued in his emotional tangent, “If their relationship is fake then why does she have to hide it from him? Not like she’s cheating. He’s not the public. What’s it to him?”

“That’s valid.” George agreed.

Alex nodded.

“And!” Lando wasn’t done, “He posted a picture of her eating the lunch that I bought her! Now all the fans are taking it out of context because they don’t know and thinking he bought her all that. ‘What a great boyfriend!’”

His voice broke at the end as he struggled to hold back his tears. George and Alex exchanged nervous glances while Lando waited for their life-changing words of wisdom.

George sighed, “Jesus, Lan, we hate seeing you like this. We’ve always been a little apprehensive that you’d get hurt through all this and, well, here it is.”

“It’s always good.” Lando assured them easily with a sniffle, “It’s just…not good today.”

“It’s part of that Monaco life, huh?” Alex pressed, “Like you have always said. It’s fucked up but it’s all just part of this balancing act?”

Lando nodded, “Yeah. It’s so fucking hard to stay afloat.”

“She’ll message you soon to clear today up…I’m sure of it.” George assured him with a gentle pat to his shoulder, “When she does, tell her how it felt today…being a little trapped like that. She’ll understand, I’m sure. Just give her the evening. We can tell she’s super into you so try not to get too in your head about it.”

Alex concluded easily, “And try not to read shit online. People are dumb.”

“Yeah.” Lando rubbed his hands across his in exasperation.

George stepped closer to pull him into a hug first and Alex quickly joined, the three of them lingering in a group hug for a moment. Lando let out a heavy breath as he found his momentary comfort in the presence of his friends that had once only been able to reassure him with online messages. But now, sharing a hotel room together in Monaco, the three best friends sat down to divide up the two take out bags of lunch just to make sure that Lando had something to eat too.

Lando didn’t hear from you all afternoon…all evening…and even well into the following morning. Sitting by the hotel pool that Thursday afternoon, Lando was simmering in his constant state of stress with his phone resting impatiently, screen up, on his thigh. His notebook was open on his lap and he was scribbling notes down in messy lines across the pages as a way to let his anxieties out rather than the less than ideal alternative of sending you emotional paragraphs in your dms. It had been all too long since you had messaged him and not only was he missing you but he was upset with you all in the same.

On the lounge chair on his right, Alex was bragging to the other two about his nearly daily messages with Lily where they filled the times discussing travel, their families, and their shared appreciation for golf. Lando tried not to be envious - what was there to even be envious of, he would silently tell himself, he was the one who had his girl in bed after all - but the green eyed monster wasn’t kind. Even right there, lounging by the pool, Alex’s shared stories were interrupted a few times by a ding on his phone to which he would make a point to pause his entire train of thought to answer Lily’s message. If it was any other time, Lando would have been elated for his best friend. Because it was right then, he was sure that if he rolled his eyes any farther back he would see his brain.

“Anyway, where was I?” Alex put his phone down again and tucked his hands behind his head as he stared up to the Mediterranean sun with a smile, “Ah, yes. Lily was saying that she wants to take me to the Golf Club before I leave. She said it’s the most famous one in Monaco…views of the ocean. We might make a day out of it…if she was serious. Maybe she was just being hypothetically nice. Shit, do you think she was just being hypothetical?”

“No way!” George answered easily from Alex’s other side, scrolling aimlessly through his phone although he was still completely listening. He glanced over, “You gotta hold her to that, mate.”

“I know, I know.” Alex agreed. “We only have a few days left…maybe I should make a plan for tomorrow. Were we going to do anything tomorrow?”

George shrugged, “Nothing specific.”

Lando answered from Alex’s other side, “Just hating my life.”

Alex reached over and snatched the notebook out of Lando's hand, “What are you even writing in here?”

“Mate.” Lando huffed and tried to grab for it but Alex held it out of his reach as he skimmed the lines.

“What is this? A poem?” Alex flipped the page.

“Maybe. I dunno. I’m just scribbling random shit.” Lando mumbled, twirling his pen between his fingers anxiously as his private words were read by the eyes of his best friend.

“It’s really good.” Alex told him. “You always tend to do your best work when you’re emo.”

“Yeah, well…” Lando faded out as his notebook was passed back to him. He skimmed a few of his own lines before taking his pen and scratched out a large chunk.

“Hey!” Alex frowned, reaching over to smack his arm, “What are you scratching out?”

“It’s shit.”

“It is not.”

Lando slouched farther back against his lounge chair and continued writing without another word. Alex sighed and picked up his phone from his lap again to answer his messages from Lily that he had missed while reading Lando’s notebook. As he typed his response with a smile, a notification popped down from the top of his screen.

georgerussell63 sent a post

Glancing to his right in slight confusion, George was already staring right back at him, his expression flat. Alex tapped the notification to open his private chat with George to see what he had sent in such secrecy. The post that was revealed had his eyes going wide.

alex_albon: Oh fuck georgerussell63: Right?? georgerussell63: Wtf do we do alex_albon: We need to tell him georgerussell63: Do we? He’s already so down after yesterday. This will just make it worse alex_albon: Yeah but he’s going to find out somehow regardless. Better he hears it from us georgerussell63: True…

In unison, both George and Alex looked over at Lando on their far left. Sensing their sudden stares, he looked back at them. Glancing between them, Lando frowned in confusion.

“What?”

“We’re gonna show you something and you’re going to hate it.” Alex warned.

Lando’s face fell, “What? Then…don’t show me.”

“We have to because it’s going to be everywhere in a bit and we need to rip off the bandaid.”

Lando nibbled at his bottom lip, “Okay.”

“Yeah?”

“What is it?” Lando’s voice was wavering already.

Alex passed over his phone.

Lando took it cautiously and glanced at the Instagram post that was on the screen. Posted by paparazzi was last night’s footage of you and your boyfriend walking hand in hand to a date venue. Lando scrolled to the next slide and the next, witnessing photograph after photograph of you in a short black dress being touched and swooned over and kissed by this man. Lando zoomed in on the last picture, right up close, so he could stare at the way you were leaning into him with your smiling lips pressed to his and an expensive glass of red wine in your hand.

Lando had spent all night virtually waiting by the phone for you to call and you weren’t even thinking of him. You were busy getting dressed up and going out with your fake boyfriend; not a care in the world to the way you hurt him that very same day. He never once received a message from you or a warning or any sort of reassurance that it was nothing.

Lando gave Alex his phone back, letting it go before wiping his hands on his towel beneath him like the news was physically disgusting. He closed his notebook. His two best friends watched him carefully, worriedly.

“What are you thinking, mate?” George asked.

Lando didn’t answer as he took a second to stare across the glimmering pool into space, trying to collect his whirling thoughts enough to make a cohesive sentence.

“Lan?” Alex pressed.

Lando took a breath and then grabbed his notebook and pen and phone, “I gotta go.”

“Where?” Alex started to get up too.

“Not you.” Lando stopped them both quickly as he stood up. “Just me. I just…need a fucking second.”

“Are you sure?” George asked.

“You don’t have to be alone right now.” Alex added.

“Yeah.” Lando barely offered them a response before he was walking off down the side of the pool area and back into the hotel.

Alex and George watched him go.

Lando was burning with heartbroken anger as he approached the elevators and pressed the call button a few times in impatient desperation. He didn’t feel like crying over it anymore - he was so numb to the sight of you with Pierre over the prior year - but now that everything was made more complicated by your situation-ship, Lando was just angry. Hurt and angry made for a cruel emotion stewing in his chest.

Up in the hotel room, Lando was muttering unpleasantries to himself as he dressed into street clothes, leaving his phone on his bed as he did so. The screen lit up with a response from Oscar to the message he sent on his way up in the elevator,

-She’s working late at the office tonight. Why do you need to know?

Lando didn’t bother replying as he snatched his phone from the bed, his wallet from the dresser, and was out the door in a flash.

The late afternoon welcomed Lando out onto the street and he took the usual bus route farther into downtown, leaving his clueless best friends behind without a word of warning. His heart was absolutely hammering in his chest despite the fact that he had no plan ahead of him. Running on emotion was a dangerous thing to do but he needed to do it. He had only spent the last few years chasing you and he wasn’t going to let one useless, irrelevant guy get in the way of that.

It was past 5:00 when Lando arrived at the office building and it was perfectly silent on the floor when the elevator doors slid open. The reception desk was empty and the logo on the wall behind the desk was dark and Lando hurried right past it and into the just as quiet office that was laid out behind it.

The only light that was on - countering the fading light from the horizon outside - was the one in your glass framed office. It felt surreal as Lando made his emotional run to you without the slightest clue what he was going to say to you or expect of you once there. Regardless, he stopped right outside your office and took a second to stare at you as you sat at your desk, typing away at your laptop without a care in the world. You were wearing your usual work attire of a skirt and blouse and your hair was free flowing over your shoulders, still hanging onto the shape of the curls that you had styled last night for your date. The pink peonies sat on the corner of the desk across from you.

Lando pushed open the glass door and helped himself to the room, startling you slightly from your silent writing bubble you had placed yourself in. You looked across your spacious office to where he stood in the doorway.

“Lando…” you breathed in surprise. “What are you-“

He wasn’t willing to let you speak first. He wasn’t willing to give you the upper hand that you always had on him since the very start.

“Don’t.” he snapped. “Don’t act surprised because I know you’re not that fucking dumb.”

You shut your mouth in utter surprise over his sudden out of character hostility towards you without even so much as a hello.

“I know that this,” he gestured between the two of you as he took a step farther into your office, “is really confusing and unlabeled and made so much more difficult because of your work and I get that - I really do - but I am also not a fucking emotionless rug you can walk all over and expect nothing to come of it.”

“Lando-“ you tried.

He kept going, his words obviously emotional, and his expression screwed up in an angry mix of sadness and frustration, “We never spoke about what we are and maybe that was stupid but in case you didn’t know, I really fucking like you. My entire goddamn life revolves around you. I uprooted my entire summer to come out here not just to help your team but to be with you because I care about you and I want to spend every second of every day with you because I like you more than you clearly know. You took my fucking virginity for God’s sake, how do you expect me to act after that?”

You sighed softly and closed your laptop, “Lan-“

He cut you off again, “So sorry if I’m not another emotionless shell like everyone else in this stupid fucking city but I thought you’d at least have the decency to tell me when shit was going down. Like, I dunno, when he showed up?”

“Pierre?” you questioned.

His name made Lando literally flinch.

“You know he’s just a PR stunt. It’s not real-“

Lando jumped in easily, speaking loudly through your office, “Then why did you introduce me as your intern? Just some stupid fan? If he’s that meaningless then why can’t you tell him about us? Or do you have something you want to tell me?”

You stood up from your desk, “I don’t have anything to tell you. You know more than a lot of people already.”

“Maybe so but you don’t care! Because if you cared you would have told me that he was going to be here! Or that you were going out last night! Instead I had to find out on Instagram about your date night and see pictures of you touching him and kissing him like you’re supposed to be touching and kissing me.”

“It’s for promotion, Lando, I promise you-“

“I don’t give a shit!” Lando shouted.

It was the first time you had heard him yell and it startled you into wide eyed silence. As he took a step towards you again, you could see the way his eyes nearly shimmered with tears but he kept them back almost expertly.

“I don’t give a shit what it’s for and who tells you to do it! I deserve to know!”

“Why?” you pushed back.

“Because you’re mine and I hate this!” Lando yelled.

“Oh, I’m yours?” you pressed.

“Yes!” Lando was right on the other side of the desk from you, pressing his finger to his chest purposefully as he spoke directly to you, “You’re mine. You are literally part of my heart and I deserve to know when things happen in your life…things that affect me!”

You leaned your hands on the glass desk in front of you and his eyes dropped to the open neck of your blouse for a split second before meeting your gaze again as you countered him expertly, “What happens in my business world is honestly none of your concern.”

“Didn’t know being a slut for paparazzi cameras was such an important part of your sales.”

You stood back up straight and crossed your arms over your chest with a rush of rouge to your cheeks so you could only stumble out a, “Oh fuck you.”

“Fuck you.” he snapped right back, turning his index finger towards you next, “Don’t even try to paint me as the bad guy here.”

“You called me a slut!”

“Fine! Not like it bothered you before but then pick a better word!” Lando threw his hands up, only growing in volume with each second and each slow taunting step he took around your desk towards you, “What were you being, huh? Selfish? Ignorant? A stupid bitch who likes flaunting her money and her body around this fucked up city for any sliver of male attention because apparently having a genuine every-day guy from the middle class is too goddamn boring for you.”

“Who the fuck are you right now?” you snapped back, “Because there is no way in hell that you are the same guy from that book signing…the one who brought me flowers-“

“Oh so you finally acknowledge that the flowers were from me! Nice!” Lando checked his imaginary watch, “Only took you almost two fucking days.”

You let out a scoff in exasperation.

“Sorry that I’m being a bit intense right now but I’m not going to apologize for being hurt.” Lando continued. “Because I’ve been sitting in my hotel room nearly crying since you completely blindsided me yesterday-“

“I blindsided you?” you gaped. “You came storming in here with a romantic lunch for two like it's our goddamn honeymoon while knowing full well that no one can know about us!”

“What about Pierre? Why can’t he know about us? Are you still involved with him? Are you still sleeping with him and that’s why you couldn’t tell him the truth?”

“Listen to yourself!” you shouted at him desperately, “You’ve gone fucking insane! I’m not sleeping with Pierre! I don’t lie to you! I didn’t feel comfortable telling him everything right there because if you weren’t aware, my entire fucking staff was sitting there with only a piece of glass between us! Get a hold of yourself!”

“Hard to believe when you were sucking face on your date later that night!”

“It’s our job, Lando! Fuck!” you raked your hands through your hair in exasperation, “It was a complete set up! We anonymously tipped the paparazzi to be there and everything for the publicity! We had to play the part! It wasn’t more than a few kisses, a few drinks over dinner, and meaningless hand holding to and from the car. I certainly didn’t enjoy it!”

“A text wouldn’t have been too much to ask!”

You slammed your hand down against your desk with frustration, telling him sternly right to his face as he stood only a foot or two to your right, “If you can’t handle the responsibilities that come with my job then maybe this position isn’t right for you.”

“I’m not here for the job!” Lando answered loudly.

You responded quickly with a step closer, matching his volume perfectly with your upset expression staring right into his, “Then maybe being with me isn’t right for you!”

Lando’s hand was on the back of your neck before you could even flinch and he yanked your mouth to his effortlessly. Your lips met a little off centre and you stumbled a bit closer to him as he forced you into a kiss. Almost nervous to touch him, your hands hesitated in midair between you for a beat as your lips locked with his in fiery passion that burned your skin.

The heat from your intense argument had his heart racing in his chest, thudding against his ribs, and his clothes felt suffocating. He was desperate for air - a release that only you could give him - and your empty threats just made him crazy for more.

Lando’s hand slid around from the back of your neck to grab you by the throat, guiding you through your shared open mouthed kisses in your silent vacant office. Both breathing heavily from your borderline screaming match only seconds before, the silence rang in your ears and your fingers dusted over the front of his t-shirt, still hesitant to touch him. But Lando just tugged you closer by your throat, taken over by some other force that pulled him out of his shy spell, and his sudden dominance was making you weak at the knees.

You moaned softly as he guided you back against your desk and your ass hit the edge, your hands falling blindly onto the tabletop behind you, lips still taken by his.

With a strong bite to your bottom lip, Lando was pulling away from your kiss and his hand around your throat kept your gaze on his as he spoke lowly to you, “Don’t you ever say that to me again. Being with you is and always has been my life’s entire goal.”

You stared at each other for a moment and as the honesty of his words settled in, you reached up to the back of his neck and pulled his lips to yours once more. Lando took a step closer to you, trapping you back against your desk as your arms slung around his shoulders and your body moulded against his. His cautious hands found the dip of your waist and he held you securely as he leaned farther into you, almost bending you backwards slightly as his lips locked with yours.

The heat of your argument was still lingering in the colour on your cheeks and the sudden flip from anger into passion had your heart thudding in your ears. Your ten fingers pressed into the back of his neck, holding his mouth on yours through desperate emotional kisses that left you dizzy. When you tilted your head to kiss him deeper, Lando’s hand slid back up to your throat and he eased you away with one more nip to your bottom lip.

“On your knees.” he ordered lowly.

You had to physically bite your lip to hide the smile that threatened to come to your face at his growing dominance and he stepped away from you just enough to allow you to sink to your knees in front of him. Right away, you were pushing up the bottom of his shirt and popping the button on his pants and tugging down the zipper.

“Fuck.” Lando breathed in near shock, trying his damndest to keep his composure, knowing he had the upper hand there. He grabbed your wrists to stop you before you could strip him down and you peered up at his face expectantly, the sweetest expression on your face that for a second he forgot why he was so mad at you. But he recovered quickly, “Who’s the only one you're getting on your knees for?”

“You, sir.” you responded easily.

“Yeah?” Lando let go of one of your wrists so he could push his thumb past your painted lips. “Why’s that?”

You hummed softly around his thumb, sucking gently as you stared up at him from your spot on your ground. You let him pull it from your mouth with a wet pop so you could answer him, “Because I’m yours. Only yours.”

He almost believed you just by the look in your eyes.

The concept of you submitting to him was invigorating and he shuffled down his pants and boxers to his knees and then slid his hand into the back of your hair to pull you closer impatiently. Your hands rested against his bare thighs and your mouth opened gladly, letting him guide his semi-hard dick in against your waiting tongue. You wrapped your lips around him and suckled softly around the head of his cock, humming at the feeling of him growing harder in your mouth with each passing second.

Lando brushed your hair away from your face and over your shoulders, wrapping it messily around one hand so he could get a good look at you as he slowly eased you closer, his other hand holding up the bottom of his shirt. His dick disappeared into your mouth inch by inch and the warm wet confines that welcomed him in had his mouth falling open silently, burning with desire for you. You had a way of pushing his emotions to the edge time and time again; good and bad. He wanted all of you.

“That’s it.” he breathed, pulling you deeper until your nose touched the warm smooth skin of his pelvis, “You wanna lie? Keep stupid little secrets from me? Should punish this mouth of yours.”

You moaned around him, choking slightly as he stiffened completely by then and nudged at the back of your throat. He would never admit that he learned a lot from your novels - especially after hearing from you that you only wrote what you yourself were into - and only more so from firsthand experience in your bed. He only wanted to be good for you. And he wanted you to know just how much you meant to him. He only wanted you.

On your knees for him, you held yourself steady by your hands on his thighs, starting to bob your head along the length of his dick until he was gripping tighter to your hair and starting to thrust into your mouth. Gagging loudly around him, you dug your nails down into his flesh but took what he gave you, letting him fuck your throat. You shamelessly had craved it since the first week you had met him, wanting him to get rough with you. There was no better time than that mid-argument make-up sex.

You tapped out on his thigh, letting him know you needed air and he let you sit back for a second. You gasped out of it, watching how strings of spit connected your glistening lips to his swollen dick in front of your face. Blinking away tears that blurred your eyes, you looked up his body to the lustful expression on his face, shadowed by the dim lighting of your office and the sunset lights through the floor to ceiling windows only steps away. Lando set his hands flat on your glass desk, standing strongly in front of you. He impatiently dropped one hand back down to tangle in the back of your hair and pulled your mouth back down on his dick.

“Fuck.” Lando hissed quietly, greedily starting to thrust into your mouth shallowly.

The little gags that he fucked from your throat nearly made his eyes roll and he slammed his hand back down on your desk, leaving you to take what he gave you without guidance. You did, of course, holding onto his thighs with your manicured hands as he towered over your body and helped himself to your heavenly mouth and beautiful throat.

He could have finished himself off right there, dizzy on the perfect sensations of your mouth and the lewd sounds of your throat constricting around him with each thrust he gave you. Standing behind your desk with a clear view of your pristine office surrounding him, Lando was sure it was a dream. It couldn’t get much better than that. Even as he slowed his hips down to a stop, you raised a hand up to keep yourself going instead, moving hand and mouth in quick steady time around his slick cock.

Lando dropped his hand down to grab your hair and pull your mouth off him again, scolding down to you, “Did I say you could keep going?”

Your soft grip pumped his dick a few more times, coughing out a, “No.”

“Guess you really are a cockslut, huh? Just fucking desperate for dick?”

“Oh my God.” you groaned at his words, “Yes.”

Lando forcefully guided you to your feet by your hair, “Get up.”

You grasped onto his shirt for balance, gasping against his kiss as he tugged your lips on his again. He was filthy with it - choking you with his tongue until you were arching into his body hungrily and your fingers were pulling at his shirt for more. Oh how he had learned so much over the summer so far…

Lando spun you around and shoved you forward against your desk and you caught yourself with your hands flat on the table top. He flipped up your skirt and slapped his whole palm down against your ass, forcing a sharp gasp from your chest as the sound echoed through your glass framed office.

“Whose are you?” he asked.

“Yours.” you breathed.

He spanked you again, “What was that?”

“Yours, sir.”

Another spank, “Are you?”

You arched your back a little more so your ass was sticking out farther for him, “Oh my God, yes.”

He groped the flesh of your ass in one hand and jiggled it, “Does anyone else get to touch you like this?”

“No, sir.” you answered softly, licking away your eager smile.

“Why’s that?” Lando slapped your ass again.

“Oh, because I’m all yours.” you rushed out, pushing back against him desperately.

Lando’s hands caressed your ass and your waist as you ground back against his body until his cock was pressed between your cheeks and against the thin lace of your skimpy little panties.

“I’m your pretty little slut.” you promised.

Your words and your insistent touch had him groaning lowly, his eyes focused down to your ass and he linked one finger around the lace of your panties and pulled them to the side, allowing himself room to teasingly angle the head of his cock between your cheeks. You shuttered at the feeling, hands flat on your desk and just waiting for him to take you, any hostility immediately vanished from your mind at that moment.

“Please.” you breathed.

Lando nudged the head of his cock against your pussy, smearing it between your slick folds, “Tell me you’re mine.”

“I’m yours.” you answered easily. “Please, sir, I’m all yours.”

Lando brought his hand up to lick across his three fingers so he could smear it between your legs to get you just a bit wetter. He then had to take a silent anticipatory breath before easing steadily inside you, his teeth sinking into his bottom lip as your body gripped around him so tightly. Your stiff whimper at the stretch had his hand raising to wrap around your throat and his other grabbed a handful of the back of your skirt that was bunched up around your waist and he slipped deeper into you.

“Holy shit.” you exhaled shakily, “You’re so fucking big-“

Lando didn’t bother giving you a second to adjust before he was starting to thrust into you, tightening his hand around your throat. Your tight whimper and the snug grip of your pussy had his jaw clenching and his rhythm growing faster. His hand smacked down hard across your ass, making you squeak.

“You like this, don’t you? Dirty slut.” Lando growled from behind you, letting his lingering anger out on your welcoming body.

“Yeah, I’m your dirty slut. Your dirty little fucking slut.” you cried out, trying to fuck yourself back on him.

He spanked you again to stop you and then took his hand from your throat to push you down by the back of your neck, forcing you to bend at the waist over your glass desk. His tight grunt as he sped up had your mouth dropping open, slouched forward onto your forearms on either side of your closed laptop and your body took his quick strokes as deep as he could reach. It just made it easier for his balls to clap wetly against your pussy, making you arch deeper for him until they were hitting your aching clit with each thrust.

“F-Fuck-“ you choked out.

His hand grabbed a fistful of your hair to tug your head back as he had his way with you, fucking you over your desk until your moans were filling the glass framed room just how he had always dreamt. He spanked you across the ass again, leaving a blushing pink handprint on your skin in the light of the desk lamp that rattled with the rhythmic shuttering of the desk beneath. He wanted to claim you as his forever.

Dizzy with lust, he let it speak for him, “Whose is the only cock you’re taking? Hm?”

“Yours, sir.” you choked out and reached an arm out to grasp the opposite edge of your desk for something to hold onto. “Fuck, it feels so good!”

“Yeah?” he tugged your hair harder, making you cry out loudly through the office.

“Oh, God, Lando!” you sobbed out, struggling to keep the smile from your face, “Just like that!”

Wide eyed at his unknown ability to have you so pleading and responsive, Lando was burning with energy. He had enough practice with you over the summer that he wasn’t going to come so early anymore but he knew that wasn’t going to last long if you kept crying out for him like that. Even then, he definitely didn’t want you to stop.

You only grew wetter as the seconds passed until you were streaking his cock in slick arousal right down to the base, dripping down his balls, and the sound of him fucking you over your desk just grew louder. His hand in your hair prevented you from dipping your face down against your desk, forcing you to keep your eyes up and across your spacious corner office, staring right out the floor to ceiling windows opposite with a view of dusk painting the city. But with one more sharp spank across your ass, Lando was leaning down over top of you with one hand flat on your glass desk and the other moving from your hair to your throat, squeezing the air from your lungs as he fucked you faster, deeper, his blue eyed gaze watching how your expression moulded into pain and pleasure all in once. It was erotic.

“God, you’re so fucking gorgeous.” Lando groaned. “I better be the only one getting to see this face…looking so screwed up with pleasure for me.”

“Only for you.” you promised quickly, struggling to get words out with the way he pounded you over your desk. Even still, you arched your back for him the best you could to help him deeper, squeaking out a tight, “Yes.”

“Good girl.” Lando mumbled, his warm breath falling against your temple, “Good little slut.”

“Oh my God, s-sir- I’m gonna cum-“ you choked out, whimpering under his hand around your throat and your toes only curled in your red bottom heels against the floor.

But before you could, Lando stood up and pulled out quickly, leaving you shuttering through the sudden emptiness and gasping as his hand left your throat. You slumped forward onto your desk until you were laying across your laptop, writhing with how close he had gotten you before leaving you throbbing with desire. He grabbed you by the back of your shirt and bunched up skirt and tugged you up, holding you in front of him like that, trapped between his body and the desk. You reached a hand back to try and pull his lips on yours by the back of his neck but he grabbed your arm to stop you.

“Do you think you deserve kisses?” he asked lowly, right to your face.

“I just want you to touch me.” you pleaded sweetly, grinding back against his body.

Lando responded right against your ear, “I think I need to hear an apology before you are allowed to cum.”

You licked away your smile as you stared back at him, “Sorry.”

He slapped his hand down against your ass, “Not enough.”

You whined softly for him, trying to pull his hands to touch you. Lando stepped away.

He kicked off his shoes as he gave you your order, nodding to the narrow table against the wall behind your desk, “I want you up on that console table there. Legs spread.”

He was so demanding it made you drip and you didn’t argue before hopping up onto the finished wood console, watching as he dropped his pants and boxers completely and kicked them to the side. His shirt came off next and you licked your lips at the sight of his naked body standing before you, your legs draped open wide over the edge of the narrow table, waiting for him. Your shirt was next as Lando pulled it up and over your head to let it drop to the floor with his clothes before he was following, getting on his knees in front of you.

He barely gave you a second to process before he was prying your thighs apart wider and dragging his tongue up your pussy. You exhaled shakily and dropped a hand down to his hair as he moved right back in with strong purposeful licks to clean up the messy wetness that had smeared all over your skin from the way he fucked you only moments before. He had grown so addicted to the taste of you over the summer that it was almost rare when he wouldn’t go down on you. Even when you made him the angriest, the saddest, the most worried, he always wanted a taste. It was still you after all; his dream girl.

“Lando…” you called sweetly, dazed with lust, and you reached down between you to link a finger around your soaked panties that were still just pushed to the side, “please take these off.”

He couldn’t say no to that and he took hold of the bunched up waistband and dragged the lacy material down your legs and to the ground. He then grabbed one of your thighs and pushed it up to hold you open for him, letting his tongue push inside you greedily to lick you out properly. Your hand in his hair only held him closer as your head fell back against the wall with a string of heavenly moans and whimpers that he forced from your chest. He only knew your body and no one else's so everything he learned was catered to you, meaning that every single thing he did was enough to make you breathless.

Lando’s tongue toyed with your clit soon after, his eyes staring up at you from between your legs as he flicked a steady rhythm only increasing with speed consistently. Your hips ground against his face as you whined and moaned through your office, your head falling gently back against the wall between your two framed literary awards that hung proudly behind your desk. Lando was in complete heaven, all-encompassed by your taste and sounds that only proved to him that he was always the one for you.

He suckled at your pussy with wet lips and tongue until his mouth was glistening and you were draping your leg over his shoulder, your heels falling from your feet one after the other until they hit the ground with two dull thunks. Writhing under his touch, you were moaning to the darkened ceiling, tugging at his hair, and blessing your office with the sound of his name on your lips.

But then Lando was pulling away again and standing up, forcing a displeased cry from your throat that he silenced with his mouth on yours. Your hands grasped the sides of his neck as he kissed you strongly and you worked to keep up with his insistent pace of lips and tongue. You couldn’t think of anything else but him, not ever, but especially not when he was situating himself between your legs and pushing your thighs apart farther until they burned and he swallowed your strained whimper with his pillowy lips.

In seconds, he was gliding his dick between your folds and then pressing it inside you again, watching how your head dropped back to break your kiss with the most erotic expression spread across your face. Lando could hear his heartbeat in his ears, burning at the sight of you giving into him. He grabbed your hips for stability and right away started to fuck you again, letting the filthy slick sound of your soaked pussy taking him in again and again fill your silent office.

“Oh my God, Lando.” you cried out softly, wrapping your arms around his shoulders tightly to keep him close as you propped the heels of your bare feet up on the edge of the console table to keep your body spread for him.

“Whose are you?” he tried, his breath falling against your cheek in jagged pants from the rough way he was fucking you.

“Yours.” you answered melodically.

“Whose?” he pressed, wrapping his fingers around your throat again.

You groaned beautifully under his hand, staring into his eyes, “I’m yours, Lando.”

“Uh huh-” he licked his lips, staring at how your breasts were pushed up nice and full in your bra, “No one else’s.”

He used his other hand to grab onto the bunched up material of your skirt so he could fuck you hungrilly, keeping his eyes on your face as he did so. That way he could see every flash of expression that grazed your face, framed in the background by your awards that he himself had magazine cut outs of back in his bedroom at home. Now he was fucking you in front of the real things…having you as his own…life was a dream. A dream of just him and you.

You could feel that overwhelming warmth building inside you again, your toes curling over the edge of the table with how you were spread for him, and your fingers dug down into his shoulders pleadingly. His hand tightened around your throat, choking your moans, and he kept his dick ramming into you in quick precise strokes that had your muscles fluttering around him. He was going to lose it.

So he pulled out.

“Oh fuck you!” you gasped out sharply, the growing pleasure withering away into nothing again. You dropped a hand down to rub pleading at your pussy but he shoved you away, determined to stay completely in charge.

“You are not the boss of me, you hear me?” he spoke sternly to you. “Just because you’re pretty and rich and successful does not mean you can walk all over me.”

“No, sir.” you hurried out, wrapping your legs around his waist to try and pull him into you again.

“No, sir.” he mocked you gently, squeezing your cheeks in his hand. “That’s what I like to hear.”

You dropped your tongue out expectantly. He spit strongly into your mouth.

“Hold onto me.” he ordered quietly.

You tightened your legs around his waist and your arms around his shoulders and he anchored his hands under your ass so he could hoist you up off the console table and into his arms. He wasn’t insanely strong but it was still impressive and you dipped down to kiss him messily as he walked you across the office and over to the closest floor to ceiling window. Your back hit the cool glass first and you moaned into his mouth as the evening soaked city lay beyond you, threatening with sights of strangers if it weren’t for the unrecognizable height you were at in the building.

He took you so confidently like he had experience from the start and the sudden switch in his demeanor was completely arousing to you. You held his lips on yours by a gentle hand holding his jaw as your other arm was slung securely around his shoulders, breathing between your filthy wet kisses that only made you drip down your thighs.

“Lando…” you exhaled shakily, “Please.”

Despite the way you were magnetized to his lips, his eyes were open and lingering on your sweet face, holding your angelic body in his arms right up against the glass window to show you off as his own. He licked his way into your mouth, hungry, lost in the way you begged for him.

“Please, baby.” you pleaded against his mouth, tugging gently at the roots of his fading blonde dyed hair, “Please fuck me. I want your perfect cock inside me, please.”

“Only mine?”

“Only yours, yes, sir.”

Lando hoisted you up a little higher against the window and when he was sure you were secure, he moved one hand from supporting you to angle his dick between your spread legs.

He opened his mouth to speak but you were one step ahead of him, giving him exactly what he expected of you with a breathy, “I’m yours.”

“Oh my God, good girl.” Lando groaned, rewarding you with the fullness of his dick sheathing inside you once more.

Your head fell back against the window with a gasp, “Fuck!”

Lando was sure he was running on adrenaline, buzzing with desire for you and the way you submitted to him so easily. He was hungry for you and completely dependent on the sound of your moans and how you begged for him, barely giving you a second to adjust before he was fucking you against the window, his eyes focused on your face.

“Fuck!” you squealed again, clinging onto him tighter, “Yes!”

His arms were aching slightly with how he needed to hold you up but your body wrapped around his made it impossible for him to stop. It was slightly clumsy the way he held you up with both of his arms around your waist and he would have second guessed his ability if it weren’t for the way he nearly had you sobbing. Your hands in his hair only tugged harder as he fucked you faster, grunting lowly against your cheek as the warmth of lust washed over him.

“Oh my God, please don’t stop!” you cried out, body bouncing against the window as he had his way with you.

A thing right out of his fantasies.

He had you pinned right back against the glass and with every thrust he was pulling out nearly all the way before slamming back into you, making you feel every inch of him in such quick succession that your mouth was hanging open in near awe, struggling to keep his eye contact. The sounds you made were filthy and he couldn’t get enough of them, paired so perfectly with the wet slap of your skin. Lando’s left hand landed heavily against the window, leaving his arm around your waist since the way you clung onto him was support enough, giving himself the support to hold himself up.

“Yes, just like that!” you pleaded, curling yourself into his neck in pleasurable overwhelm and your arms went right around his body. “Yes, sir, yes, sir, yes, yes, yes-”

“Fuck, baby-“ Lando moaned right up against your ear.

Your nails raked across the skin of his bare back, painting him in red scratches that only expressed the way he brought pleasure to your body, clinging onto him desperately. He was overwhelming and the moans that spilled from your lips were uncontrollable, all thanks to the way he fucked you like you truly were all his.

“Please-“ you sobbed into his neck, “Please- I’m gonna cum-“

Lando didn’t flinch, “Tell me you’re sorry and then you can cum.”

You answered easily, loudly, “I’m sorry!”

“Mean it.”

He still hadn’t stopped fucking you in that same addicting pace and you struggled to put together words to create a coherent sentence.

“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you!” you stumbled out, your words only made jagged by your messy moans and whimpers that he forced out of your body. “I’m sorry! I’m only yours - I promise! I promise!”

Lando’s proud smile was directed out the window as your body was clinging onto him and your face was buried in his neck. You obediently waited for his permission but holding yourself back was almost unbearable.

“Please.” you whimpered.

“Cum for me.” Lando ordered.

“Oh my God.” you gushed in relief, letting yourself so quickly fall into pleasure that he brought you.

Your nails pressed tighter into his back and your teeth sunk into his neck, needing some way to let out the intense feeling that rushed within you and bubbled to the surface. You tensed up in his arms, your pussy squeezing the life out of his dick as he fucked you into your orgasm and he groaned tightly to the window as he forced himself through it.

Shuddering in his arms, he had to take his other hand from the glass to wrap around you again, holding you close as you gasped out his name and a pleasurable tear escaped your eye and fell onto the flushed skin of his neck.

“Lan-do- fuck-“ you choked out of it, only having your easing out interrupted by the first thick spurt of him coming inside you. “Yes-“

His moans were loud and beautiful and you shut your eyes to focus on every inch of him, right down to how he shoved deep into you and gave you every last drop of warmth. All for you.

Your hand raised to the back of his neck and you blindly pulled his lips to yours, sharing a few breathless off-centred kisses as he finished inside you, leaving his throbbing cock deliciously in place for a few more seconds. You gave each other little moans and sighs as your pleasure tapered off and after a few seconds, Lando had to pull away from your lips to catch his breath.

“Gotta put you down.” he whispered.

“Okay.” you permitted, carefully removing your wobbly legs from around his waist so he could pull out and help you stand on the floor properly. But your arms stayed around his neck and his hands rested on your waist, letting your heavy breathing fall in steady time as your noses brushed. Your lips nudged onto his next, sharing a few soft chasté kisses in the quiet light of your office, darkened by the sunken sun as he held you against the window.

You pulled away with a lick to your lips and gently ran your fingers through the back of his hair, “You hungry?”

Lando let a small smile play at his lips, “Yeah.”

“Okay.” you rubbed his shoulders and dragged your hands down his chest, “I’ll order something and we can eat and talk for a bit.”

Lando nodded, his pride suddenly exchanged with nervousness, “Okay.”

You shimmied your skirt back down and Lando drifted across the spacious office to retrieve his discarded clothes and he pulled on his underwear and tossed you yours, trying not to let his mind stew over what you wanted to talk about.

You grabbed your phone from your shifted desk and opened up an app to find something to order in, sitting yourself down on the small couch opposite your work space in only your skirt and bra. Lando drifted over to join you and he - almost nervously - sat himself down on your left.

“Anything you’re craving?” you asked.

He just stared at you, “Nope.”

“Burger?”

“Sure. Whatever you want.”

With your food ordered and waiting for its delivery, you were left to the silence of your empty office and the comfort of your private little lounge area despite the glass wall that stretched in front of you. The employees’ desks and meeting rooms were dark and vacant. Lando was staring at you as you stretched forward to set your phone on the coffee table and then you rested back again.

You looked back at him. When you saw the expression on his face, you reached out a hand to rest against his bare chest and feel the thudding of his heart under your palm. A tiny smile came to your face, “What’s got your heart racing?”

“You.” Lando answered easily, his voice gentle as if the dim lighting of the office required it.

“And fucking me all over this room?” you teased.

He laughed lightly despite the nervousness that rose within him, “Yeah.”

Teasing him just a little, you caressed the side of his neck, “You did well. You’re learning lots, young Padawan.”

“Shut up.” Lando looked away from you with a small smile and a gentle shake of his head.

There was a pause between you, tense silence lingering, and Lando kept his gaze on the coffee table with his teeth sunken into his bottom lip.

You rubbed the back of his neck tenderly, “Can you look at me please?”

He took a small breath and looked back at you.

“I’m sorry.” you said, “I really am.”

Lando dropped his gaze to his lap, picking at his fingernails anxiously.

Your hands framed his face and gently pulled his head up to get him to look at you again, “That was really shitty of me to not tell you what was going on.”

“Yeah.” he breathed, barely audible.

“I promise that you’re my only one. You’ve captured my heart in ways no one else has, I told you that.”

He nodded.

“You’re the only thing that matters.”

You leaned in to kiss him, locking your lips with his in slow sensual kisses that had nothing but the strongest devotion behind them. Lando slowly lifted his hand to the back of your neck, melting into your lips and touch as he followed your lead until the gentle passion made him dizzy. You felt the same as he had a way of sending your heart and soul spiraling and you shifted a little closer to him on the couch so you could feel more of his heavenly presence.

After a few long seconds, Lando’s words were suffocating him at the back of his throat, desperate for more reassurance, and he had to pull away from your kiss for a moment. You almost didn’t let him but you brushed your nose against his adoringly as he licked his lips and worded his question, “And Pierre?”

Dizzy on bliss with a mind only taken by the man in front of you, you hummed out a, “Who?”

Lando smiled lightly, “Good answer.”

You giggled with realization and pushed your lips back on his once, twice, and then you were sitting back.

“He’s nothing. He’s work.” you rehashed, petting your hand through his messy hair, “I’ll tell him about us, okay?”

Lando, suddenly feeling a bit of shame, replied, “You don’t have to.”

“I do.” you nodded, “You made some good points when you came in here yelling at me.”

You shared small smiles and Lando scoffed lightly with a shrug, speaking to your lips since looking into your eyes felt like too much sometimes, “I will never let you push me away.”

“I’m not…pushing you away.” you spoke as casually as you could but the words held some sort of realization on your tongue and you faded quietly. You looked down, unable to meet his gaze as he stared at you so intently right beside you.

Lando whispered his gentle notice, “You were pushing me away.”

“I…” you didn’t know what to say. You hadn’t even realized it. You turned to face forward on the couch, eyebrows furrowed in thought as you reminded yourself of your actions from the last week.

“I don’t know why you don’t think you deserve to be treated nicely. Even every time I compliment you it’s like you can’t ever accept it.” Lando continued softly, “You are my dream girl…woman…both inside and out and I’m not just saying that. You really are unbelievable to me…you take my breath away all the time and I still can’t believe that you want some random guy like me. Maybe sometimes that makes me a little paranoid and scared…maybe we’re kinda the same like that.”

“Unable to accept the niceness of each other?” you chuckled.

Lando smiled and shifted to sit forward on the couch too, “Yeah?”

You sniffled although you weren’t crying and you looked at him at your side, “Yeah.”

“Nothing you could do could ever put me off.” Lando promised. “Unless you lie to me and hide things from me…then I’ll be a little upset but nothing we can’t work out, okay?”

You nodded, “Okay. I’m sorry.”

“That’s okay.” he leaned in to kiss you once.

You smiled softly and chased his lips for one more kiss. Your hand reached for his on his lap and you slid your fingers between his, “And I’m not going anywhere so don’t keep thinking I’m going to find someone better because I’m not.”

Lando leaned into you, “Okay. I’m gonna hold you to that.”

You rested your head against his and, hands holding each other’s, you sat there in peaceful silence for a moment. Lando even closed his eyes, cherishing the warmth of your presence. He really wanted to tell you he loved you.

Your phone lit up from its place on the coffee table and you reached forward to retrieve it, skimming the notification before announcing, “Our food is here!”

Lando held onto your hand a little longer even as you stood up from the couch and you dipped down to kiss him once.

“I’ll be right back.”

“Promise?”

You smiled widely and kissed him again, “Promise, lover.”

He let you go.

You tugged your shirt on and slid into your heels while on your way out the door of your glass framed office and you hurried to the elevator to meet the delivery driver on the street. It was only then that you realized you were dripping cum down your inner thighs and you did your best to keep your legs together under your skirt as you shuffled across the vacant building lobby to the front doors. The driver was waiting on the other side and you pushed them open to grab your bags with a polite thanks and a wish good night. There was a handsome man waiting for your return upstairs after all; no time for small talk with strangers.

When you were walking back down the hallway towards your office, you stopped outside the glass wall to watch as Lando - in only his boxers - arranged a little set up for the two of you on the rug. He had pushed aside the coffee table and set the two throw blankets and few decorative cushions on the floor in front of the couch, leaving the room still dimmed to only the light of the desk lamp. Despite the faint lighting, the emergency lights that lined the main hallway allowed a bit more visibility and enough so that you could make out the red scratches down his back.

Smirking proudly, you lingered in the doorway just to stare at him for a moment, “Those pretty red scratches down your back do you wonders, baby.”

Lando glanced over at you in surprise at your appearance but he broke into a bashful grin, “Glad you think so.”

He then grabbed something from the couch and tossed it over to you. Your panties landed at your feet.

“You forgot something.”

“I know.” you chuckled, kicking them back towards him with the toe of your heel, “I was kinda leaking down my legs the entire way downstairs. My thighs hurt from clenching them together so tightly.”

“You know, when I passed them to you, that meant put them on.” Lando tisked lightheartedly as you set the takeout bags on the coffee table and he stood close at your side.

“Where’s the fun in that?” you replied casually as you started to unpack your food, “I like feeling you drip out of me.”

Lando’s little shuttering gasp made you smirk and he gave your bum a gentle smack, “Dirty girl.”

With your food spread out on the table and the bottle of red wine you ordered sitting prettily in the middle, you left Lando to get situated as you retrieved two glasses from the bar cart by the window and once you passed them to him to fill, you kicked your heels off and pulled your shirt back over your head. You couldn’t let him be the only one half bare.

You joined him on the rug and cuddled up close to his side with you both leaning back against the bottom of the couch. In your close proximity, you gently clinked your wine glasses together with your eyes focused all on each other as if you couldn’t get enough.

“To us?” Lando asked.

“To us.” you agreed with a smile and you took your first sips.

As close as possible on your office floor, you shared your late dinner for appetites that had only grown substantially since he had helped himself to your desk more than an hour earlier. It was quiet for the first little bit as you focused on eating and drinking but as you slowed down, your focus was turned back to each other.

Lando’s arm was around your shoulders and you were leaning into him happily, sharing fleeting feather soft kisses between feeding each other french fries. After almost two days of lows, Lando felt on top of the world again. You had a tendency of doing that to him.

It was the way you always wanted more of him as you chased his kisses with one more, two more, pulling him in by the back of his neck to taste the rich red wine that stained his lips. Lando always seemed to swoon over how you silently showed how you craved him just as much as he always craved you.

You rested your head on his shoulder with a quiet sigh, “I’m sorry my work is shitty.”

“It’s not shitty.” Lando answered easily.

“I don’t like that we have to be so cautious all the time.” you confessed, gently swirling your last few sips of wine around the bottom of your glass absentmindedly, “I want to be normal with you.”

“What’s normal?” Lando asked.

“Where we can go out for dinner without speculation…hold hands…look at each other for more than five seconds even around the office.”

Lando smiled to himself at the thought of those simple acts that were off limits for the two of you but he gave you a gentle squeeze, “That’s okay. It’s moments like this that make up for all that.”

You looked at him, “You sure?”

He nodded, his eyes drifting between your lips and your eyes, “Totally sure. I don’t mind being your little secret. It’s kind of thrilling sometimes.”

You smiled back at him, “It is, isn’t it?”

He slid his arm from around your shoulders and gently pulled at your bottom lip, “Mhm.”

You leaned in towards him so you were almost resting against his chest and you caressed his cheek with the back of your finger, “I’m so thankful that I met you…that you waited in that lineup…stayed until the very end…and convinced me to come to dinner with you.”

Lando rubbed your back, staring deeply into your eyes, “I’d do anything for you. Always have. Always will.”

You leaned in to press your lips to his, lingering there a moment or two before pulling away again.

“Mm mm.” Lando hummed, raising his hand to the side of your neck to pull you back in for more.

You smiled happily into his kiss, sharing a few closed mouthed innocent kisses as the last few french fries grew cold in their takeout containers. But as you both melted into each other and your lips locked deeply, kisses growing stronger, warmer, your leftovers were the last thing on your mind. It was like a dance between the two of you that had been only perfected over the summer right down to the way your tongues matched each other’s motions precisely until you were feeling those perfect butterflies in your stomach. Lando knew if it went on any longer, he’d definitely get hard again - that was so easy for you to do to him.

But it wasn’t long before you were pulling away slowly, leaving both your lips pouted naturally out of it as your eyes fluttered open to meet each other’s gaze. You caressed his chest with your hand that wasn’t claimed by your glass and you requested of him breathily, “Come home with me.”

He would never say no to you.

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er-osion · 5 months ago

Text

Stay (in my life)

pairing: Jason Todd x gn!Reader

summary: Red Hood comes back to your apartment for a patch job again, but his injuries are a bit more severe this time so he accepts your offer to stay over

word count: 4.3k

warnings: blood, fairly detailed descriptions of injuries, fluff

author’s note: sorry this one’s a little long ya’ll, i got a bit carried away. hope you guys enjoy. you can read part one here.

⋄∘∗⋅⋆≁≁⋆⋅∗∘⋄

“Holy shit, you look terrible!” You gasp as you take in Red Hood’s battered form as he clumsily steps over to your couch.

“Thanks, you look great too.” Hood grits out in reply as he slumps into the cushions. You hurry to grab your med kit and rush over beside him.

“You’re getting blood all over my couch, Hood.”

“Don’t worry, sweetheart, I’m really good at getting stains out.”

“I hope you’re also really good at surviving what appears to be multiple stab wounds and severe burns.”

“You’d laugh at that statement if you knew my background.”

“We’re gonna have to move this to the bathroom, I need better lighting and access to the sink.”

“I just sat down.” Hood exasperated.

“You know it’s not far.” You rolled your eyes at his words but couldn’t fight the rising anxiety at his condition. On instinct, you got up and held out your hand for him to take. Hood moved his head to look at your hand.

“Considering my size and condition, I don’t think you’re gonna be much help getting me off this couch by yourself.” He noted, unimpressed.

You narrowed your eyes at him but kept your hand where it was, “It’s more the sentiment. However, in your condition you might very well need all the help you can get walking the short distance to my bathroom.” Hood paused but set his gloved hand in yours. It was dirty with dust and what you assumed was blood and gripped tightly, probably more so than he realized, but you paid no mind with your thoughts wrapped up in Hood’s less than favorable state. The vigilante got up slowly from your couch and he wobbled to and fro once he was on his feet. The two of you started to move carefully to your bathroom, which was just down the hall, but Hood seemed to be more injured than you initially thought because his knees suddenly became weak and you both had to make a combined effort to catch him.

“Did you hit your head tonight?” You ask as Hood tried to restabilize himself.

“You asking if I have a concussion?” Hood responded.

“That’s exactly what I’m asking, yes.”

“It’s highly probable. I was thrown against a cement wall pretty hard.” Hood moved and wrapped one of his large arms around your shoulder for more support, immediately putting more of his weight onto you. The man was heavy beyond belief, but he did his best not to pile his muscle mass on top of you. The arm around your shoulders was secure and his hand gripped the fabric of your t-shirt tightly. Hood groaned while he settled more into you and you began walking again. Despite your rampant mind, your heart hammered in your chest at the contact and you felt the skin touching his arm dance. By some miracle, the two of you made it to your bathroom, and you did your best to help Red Hood down onto the floor in front of your bathtub.

“Can you just start listing off all your possible injuries while I get all my supplies out?” You asked Hood while you opened the first aid kit. Hood complied, and started listing off all the places he suspected was injured during his patrol tonight. You noticed, though, that his words sometimes got slurred and his sentences kept drifting off —in other words, he didn’t seem all there. “Are you sure you don’t have a concussion?” You probed.

“Told you, it’s very possible. What do you think, doc?” Hood shot back.

“In all honesty, I suspect you have a concussion. Maybe not a severe one, but a concussion is still bad no matter the level. How does your head feel, where it got hit?”

“It hurts.”

“No shit Sherlock, but I was hoping for a more detailed answer.”

“I guess it’s kind of a dull pain? Not like a migraine, but it also hurts in my neck and back of the head.”

“Okay, I think we need to deal with your head first.” You stopped when you realized the implications of your words. You’d need his helmet off to examine his head for any open wounds, you’d never seen Red Hood with his helmet off. Hood seemed to realize this at the same time since you saw him tense suddenly. Neither of you moved or said anything for a couple seconds, trying to figure out how to proceed. You quickly tried to remedy the awkwardness, “Look, I know I’m not supposed to see your face, I’m just concerned about your head but the last thing I want to do right now is push your boundaries, so if taking off the helmet is a no-go we’ll figure something else out.”

Red Hood shook his head, “No, you’re right, as usual. I trust you won’t go mouthing off about what the Red Hood’s face looks like.” He teased as he moved his hand up toward his helmet. You heard a clicking noise and a quiet hiss and felt your body still with anticipation. Hood slowly removed the helmet and you saw him peel off a domino mask underneath.

When his face was bare and uncovered in front of you, you let out a breath you hadn’t realized you’d been holding. He’s beautiful. Red Hood was the most gorgeous man you’d ever seen. His eyes a mystifying swirl of green and blue, dim with exhaustion but there was still this inexplicable unnatural glow to them. His hair —while slightly matted from the helmet— looked deliciously soft, the color of the night sky with a bold white streak at the front. There was a long thin scar connecting one of his eyebrows to his pale pink lips. You were speechless as you took in Hood’s face, trying to wrap your head around how someone could look that goddamn beautiful. It really wasn’t fair. Your heart was racing out of your chest and you were having trouble maintaining a steady breath while you gazed at his features. Red Hood noticed your stare and shifted a little uncomfortably under your gaze, his gemstone eyes gluing themselves to the ground.

“You gonna stare at my face all night, or are you gonna fix me up?” His voice snapped you back to reality.

“Right right, sorry. I just… wasn’t expecting to finally learn what you looked like tonight… got caught up in the surprise I guess.” You tried to cover your embarrassment and scooched closer so you could examine his head. You looked around and felt very gently for any bumps or wounds. “Hood, you’re bleeding at the back of your head.” The worry in your voice was prominent.

“That would help explain the dizziness.”

Your lips pulled into a line and you started to clean his head wound as carefully as you could, and then wrapped it gently with a bandage. You then made the vigilante promise not to fall asleep on you while you worked on the rest of his injuries. The rest of his body made the head injury look like a splinter. Multiple abrasions were littered across his torso, the molested skin was red with blood and irritation. You could see small bits of debris lodged in the surface of his cuts and abdomen. The slashes on his arms were in a similar state. As if the knife assaults weren’t enough, spots of his body were marred with blistering burns the color of bright red and white. Your heart stung at the obvious pain your hero must be in. No one deserved this, especially not Hood. Your eyebrows furrowed deeper with concern and your frown carved further into your face.

You were startled out of your thoughts when a thumb brushed between your eyebrows, forcing the furrow to even out. You blinked, and shot your gaze up to the owner of the hand. Hood was looking at you with green eyes that were clouded with emotions you couldn’t pinpoint. He had been frowning, but when you locked eyes, the edge of his lips quirked upward ever so slightly. “Keep that face up and you’ll get wrinkles before you’re thirty.” He teased as his thumb once again brushed between your brows, to further his point.

You huffed and shook your head slightly, but not too much to force his hand off of your face. “Keep coming here on the brink of death at 2 am and I definitely will.” You fired back with the ghost of a smirk. Neither of you felt the need to say anything more, Hood’s hand lingered at the top of your head for a brief moment before he retracted it back to his side. You instantly missed the contact. But, you turned your attention back to the task at hand and began caring for Hood’s various other injuries. You used tweezers to fish out the pebbles that had burrowed into his skin and then cleaned the subsequent areas with water and your saline solution. You looked at each cut to determine if it needed stitches or not. For the ones that did, you warned Hood of your plans each time and made extra careful work of numbing the areas before stitching his wounds neatly and efficiently.

Jason watched you in a daze. He could never get over how well you handled everything. Even though he knew you were worried and filled with anxiety, you worked calmly and with composure. You were focused and didn’t let your fears rule your movements, something he greatly appreciated as the one with the injuries. Jason hadn’t planned for any of this to happen. He hadn’t planned for tonight’s ambush to go so wrong, he hadn’t planned to hobble into your apartment nearly blind with pain and dizziness, and he certainly hadn’t planned to take both of his masks off in front of you. Sure, the two of you had been getting closer as of late. After your offer to host him even on nights he wasn’t injured, Jason had been showing up to your apartment a couple nights out of the week to make dinner and watch tv with you. In the past few weeks, Jason had been relishing in the change in your dynamic. Just existing in the same space as you put Jason��s head into a flurry, but in the most exciting way. The best part of his day has been visiting you these last few weeks. And of course, each time he’s entered your place he’s thought about removing the helmet and allowing you to get closer to him in a way he hasn’t let anyone in years. But each time, he’s stopped himself in fear. Fear of what exactly? Fear of putting you in danger, fear of scaring you, fear of disappointing you. Jason Tood would not be able to handle it if any of those things occurred. But there’s no time like the present, as they say. At least you didn’t flinch when you saw him. He couldn’t exactly figure out what you were thinking (whether it was positive or negative) but it wasn’t disgust he saw on your face, so a win is a win.

The black-haired man is suddenly overtaken with words and spits out without realizing, “I’m Jason, by the way.”

You freeze and look up at him questioningly. “I’m sorry?”

“My name, it’s Jason.”

“Oh! Okay, Jason…” You test the weight of his name on your tongue, “Jason, it’s a pleasure to meet you.” You conclude with a genuine smile.

Jason’s entire stomach has just done at least 20 flips. His heart is beating so hard and loud in his chest he hopes you don’t hear it. The man never knew a person could say his name so sweetly. He never knew his name could be uttered without any hint of malice by someone outside of his family. Your pronunciation of his name is echoing in his mind like bells to a dizzying effect. He’s been a fool. He’s been such an idiot. How could he let fear prevent him from lifting his helmet and telling you his name, when he could’ve been hearing the beautiful way you say it all this time? Jason realizes he’s left you verbally hanging for a good minute just staring, so he clears his throat and adverts his eyes. “The pleasure is all mine.” When Jason looks back at you, he sees your smile is still plastered on your face and it gives him a strange sense of pride.

“I want you to know though, I know the mask was probably a lot tonight. I don’t want to force you to say or give up anything for my sake, I’m the one treating you. I’m so glad you trust me enough with your face and name, but I don’t want you to think I need it to help you, Jason. I’d fix you up even if you came in here one day as a bat-Frankenstein.” You’re worried you might’ve pushed him too far tonight. You don’t want Ho—Jason, to think you’re only out to discover his secret identity. You want him to understand that you’d care for him no matter the circumstances, whether you knew his face and name or not.

All at once, Jason felt his throat close up and tears brimming his eyes. Do you know what your words mean to him? Do you know how instantly you make him feel loved? Jason is so certain he is undeserving of your kindness and understanding, but here you are giving it to him freely. Will you ever understand the effect you have on him? How you heal pieces of his soul he thought long shattered. Jason’s full, pink lips quiver into a small smile. A smile of profound gratitude, appreciation, and sadness.

“Angel, it’s long overdue. You’re right on one thing though, I do trust you. I trust you far more than my colleagues would probably advise, but I do so anyway because I can’t do anything else. I keep invading your life in sharp broken pieces and asking you to pick me up off the floor, even at risk of hurting yourself. Yet, you do it each time with a grace Shakespeare wishes he could write about. The fact I want you to understand is that; if I didn’t want you to see my face or know my name, you wouldn’t. End of story. But that’s not the case, so it isn’t the end of the story. You’re not pushing me. And to know that you’d fix me up even if I did end up a bat-Frankenstein, is some of the most relieving news I’ve had all month.” Jason had to end his monologue with a small tease, worried his vulnerability would be too obvious without it. You listen to his words with so much intent you’ve forgotten the rest of the world. An invisible hand is squeezing your heart to the point it hurts. You can only take shallow breaths and you feel as though you might tear up.

“Well then, let’s finish fixing you up.” Your words come out barely a whisper and you go back to tending to his wounds. But neither of you can ignore the change in the air. The swift shift into a heavy lull that keeps a smile on both of your faces. You realize you’ll be done treating him soon and a wave of panic rises in you. He can’t leave now, not after everything we just left unsaid. But he leaves every time I finish taking care of him, without wasting a second. Then, an idea comes to mind. One you’ve conjured up multiple times in the past but never really entertained because of its unlikeliness to occur. It’s a risk, for sure. It’s very possible you mess it up and ruin the evening, but things have gone smoothly thus far and the success has given you a boost in confidence. Plus, you are still majorly concerned for his health, so you brave the question once you’ve completed the last bandage.

“I’m done wrapping your injuries, but that in no way means you’re recovered. I know you’re probably anxious to get back to your safe house or whatever, but you’re a severe liability in your condition.”

“So what do you suggest?” Jason asks with a skeptically raised eyebrow.

“…Um well, I was going to offer —and it’s perfectly acceptable if you say no— but I was going to offer you stay over here for the night, to have somewhere to lie down without having to brave Gotham at night with a concussion and several broken ribs.” You refused to meet Jason’s eyes as you offered him to stay the night, so you missed how they widened in surprise and then lit with anticipation.

“Yeah that— um, I—” Jason coughed awkwardly, something you’ve never seen him do but find endearing, “I mean yeah, that’s probably a good idea. Not sure I could make it a block without collapsing. But you uh— you sure you don’t mind?” Jason’s voice softens in volume at the end of his query.

“I wouldn’t be offering if I did.”

“Fair point.” You smiled at his acceptance of your invitation, secretly giddy at the idea of him spending the night. “But um, I don’t really have anything for you to change into.”

“Understandable. I have my compression shorts on though so I’ll be fine.” Jason assures you and you nod your head. You then help him up off of the bathroom floor. Jason once again lays his arm around your shoulders for support and your stomach twists into knots. The two of you say nothing as you move toward your bedroom. Jason helps open the door with his free arm so you can shimmy your two bodies through the opening. Jason suddenly feels very awkward and misplaced inside. He’s never seen your room before, and to do so now feels so intimate it makes him light headed. This is the most personal space in your entire apartment and it is just now striking Jason that this is where he’ll be sleeping since you don’t have a guest room. Too lost in his racing thoughts, the vigilante doesn’t notice you’ve helped him to sit down on the edge of your bed. You reluctantly pull away from his grip around your shoulders to go turn on your bedside lamp, immediately feeling the absence of his body heat. Jason is pulled back into reality at the loss of contact and is hit with the need to say something but he searches for words with no avail.

It’s you who breaks the silence in a quiet but firm voice, instinctively not wanting to ruin the quiet air of the room. “You can sleep in here tonight. I’ll be in the living room if you need anything. If you get thirsty or hungry please help yourself to anything in my kitchen. The bedroom door locks too, just in case that’d make you more comfortable. Like I said though, if you need anything just come grab me, I’ll be on the couch.” You turn to leave him in privacy, but Jason quickly speaks up.

“You’re gonna sleep on the couch?” He asks incredulously.

“Well that is the only other option.” You affirmed with a raised eyebrow.

“No no no. It’s your house, you can sleep in your bed. I’ll take the couch.” Jason started to get up, but you could see him straining with each movement. You rushed over and gently but forcefully pushed him to sit back on the bed.

“Yeah, no. You are the one who’s severely injured, I’m not letting you sleep on a couch in your state. I really don’t mind anyways, it’s just one night.”

“Well I refuse to make you sleep on a couch in your own home, you already sacrifice enough just letting me in here.” You were about to protest his use of the word ‘sacrifice’ before Jason continued, with a suggestion that made you still. “We could… we could share the bed? I mean— it’s big enough for two people and we’re both apparently too stubborn to let the other one sleep in the living room.” Jason’s lake green eyes scanned your face for any sign of disgust or hesitation, his palms felt sweaty and he suddenly felt like an idiot for even suggesting such a thing.

You were frozen, the cogs turning in your head at the implications of his offer. Your heart was racing. The two of you sleep in the same bed? You had just learned his name, and now you two would be sharing a bed? You tried to stop yourself from feeling so excited at the idea. Jason took your silence for uncertainty and continued blabbering, “We’re both adults, right? I don’t mean anything by it, I just— I don’t want you getting a bad night's sleep on your couch, and your stubborn ass clearly won’t let me sleep anywhere that isn’t a real bed so… I don’t know, maybe it was a dumb suggestion. You can forget about it, I’ll take the couch—”

You interrupted him with a burst, shaking your hands in front of you to keep Jason from getting up. “Oh, no no no. It’s fine, it's fine. Really, it’s cool. We can— we can share the bed I don’t mind. It’s a smart idea. Just, ya know, be careful with your stitches and bandages. I’d hate for you to worsen any injuries in your sleep.” You tried to sound calm and collected, but really you were shaking with excitement and nerves. Jason just nodded slowly, still looking a little unsure at your agreement, but he moved to step out of his armor anyway.

You walked over to your side of the bed, and started fiddling with random nick nacks on your nightstand to try and appear busy while Jason got undressed behind you. Lord almighty, it was taking every ounce of your strength not to look behind you and oogle at what you knew were rippling muscles. “Focus, gotta get through this night without making a fool of yourself.” You thought as you felt the bed dip on the other side, signaling Jason was ready to sleep.

With that, you turned the lamp off and slipped underneath the covers. Jason copied you wordlessly and you both laid in the dark, staring at the ceiling in silence. The air was so thick with tension it was near suffocating, but the two of you were too scared to speak and break the spell of the night. You unconsciously let out a little sigh and turned on your side so your back was facing Jason. You closed your eyes to try and force yourself to sleep, but your mind was hyper vigilant at this point. You could feel the bed dipping to accommodate Jason’s gigantic form on the other side. You weren’t used to sharing this space with anyone, and the fact that you could feel his breath through the mattress had your mind in a frenzy. You were fighting every fiber of your being that was telling you —no, begging you to move closer to the man beside you.

Jason was pleading with the universe in hopes that you couldn’t hear how his heart was thundering in his chest. For someone who’s lying down, his breathing sure is quick. Jason thought this would be enough. Just having you near by, occupying the same space, he thought that’d be enough to satisfy his urge to be near you. But for some goddamn reason, it’s making it worse. How can you be so close yet so far? How much closer can he get before he crosses a line? Jason blames his exhaustion for his next move.

Out of nowhere, you feel something heavy curl around your waist. Your eyes pop open in surprise, and you have to force your body to be still. Jason uses the arm draped across your middle to pull you closer to him. Your back presses against his solid chest and you forget what it was ever like to be cold. You can feel warmth seeping into your skin from every point of contact between the two of you. You can feel each breath Jason takes pushing into your back and you can feel the speeding rhythm of his heart, which you’re sure is close to the speed of your own. Your lips have curled into a smile and you’re fighting off a sigh of contentment.

“Is—is this okay?” Jason’s question comes out in an unsure whisper. If you hadn’t been so close you wouldn’t have heard him.

“Yeah, this is okay.” You reassure at an equal volume, worried that being any louder would shatter the moment. Your smile has evolved into a full on grin.

“Okay.” Jason mutters and then presses his head into the curve of your neck. His muscular arm tightens around your waist and his hand grips your shirt gently. You subconsciously shuffle further into him, though, you didn’t think there was anyway you could physically get any closer. Still, any space left between the two of you was eliminated. Your two breaths became one as your heartbeats synced up. You could feel Jason’s warm breath against your neck and it sent shivers down your spine. Jason felt so warm and happy, here with you in his arms. Holding you felt like a reward he didn’t deserve. He only hopes he’ll be able to do this again…and again, and again, and again.

You’ve never felt so safe as you do in Jason’s arms. It’s almost euphoric, being like this with him. You never want this moment to end, but the warmth of Jason’s embrace is quickly dragging you under the spell of sleep. You hope you wake up with him in the morning, you hope this isn’t a dream. You two have probably crossed some sort of line tonight, not that either of you care right now. The unclear nature of your relationship with the vigilante is something for you to wrestle with in the morning. For now, you’ll fall asleep wrapped in Jason’s arms, with the happy thought that he’ll surely be coming back to do this again.

#jason todd x reader #jason todd x you #x reader #dc jason todd #jason todd #jason todd imagine #dc red hood #dc fanfic #dcu #dc universe #jason todd x y/n #dc fluff #red hood x reader #red hood #dc comics

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lilyhyperfixates · 9 months ago

Text

I think he knows - B.B

Pairing: Benedict Bridgerton x Reader

Wordcount: 0.7K

Warnings: Age gap (10 years, Benedict is 28, Reader is 18.) No Y/N used.

Authors note: Who was gonna tell me our boy Ben is 28 in S2??? I was flabbergasted when i googled it for this fic😭

The ball was absolutely boring to you. You were silently observing the people there and the conversations being held around you. The dance card that dangled from your wrist painfully empty, the small glass lemonade in your hand turning lukewarm from being held so long. Your eyes fall on Benedict Bridgerton, one of the most eligible bachelors of the season.

This social season was only your first, having been presented to Queen Charlotte only two weeks prior. You held no hopes of marrying this season. The gentlemen of the ton had not paid a lot of attention to you thus far, apart from the few dances you’d had.

Despite mr. Bridgerton being 10 years your senior, you felt yourself oddly enamored by him. You had just turned eighteen, only just allowed to be out in society. Regardless of your age you had gentlemen far into their forties approaching you for dances. The thought of mr. Bridgerton wanting to dance with you did not repulse you like it had with other gentlemen. Thinking about it even made your stomach flutter a little, not that you would ever admit that.

Benedict had been getting pestered by debutantes and marriage minded mama’s all evening. Since the ball was hosted by the dowager Viscountess, his mother, it was to be expected he would be approached all night, but in all honesty you pitied him a bit. He had been getting more and more attention each social season that he remained unmarried.

You had heard of Benedict Bridgerton before your debut, as he was an acquaintance of your father’s. Now at the ball you saw him in a completely different light though, not an acquaintance of your father, but a man you found quite attractive. You had always thought him an attractive man, but in the lighting of the sun setting and the stained glass windows from the ballroom he looked simply angelic.

Benedict and your father often painted together and you always found small excuses to be in the room, harboring a small crush on Benedict.

Suddenly you were pulled out of your thoughts when Lord Beswick approached you. Lord Beswick was a man in his late thirties with little to no hair on his head. He had seemed particularly eager to have you dance with him on earlier occasions, which was hard to refuse without seeming impudent. As the man approached you, you prepared yourself to have to dance with him again.

Then you feel a touch on the small of your back. Your head snaps around to find the source of the touch and your eyes meet those of Benedict Bridgerton. Lord Beswick then finally reaches you and asks you for your next dance.

"Unfortunately for you, the lady has already promised her next dance to me, Lord Beswick.” Benedict tells the man in a smooth and charismatic voice. You silently thank him with a look and allow him to write his name on your dance card. He quickly leads you to the dancefloor and gets ready to dance with you.

As the music starts playing Benedict begins dancing with you gracefully, he had obviously had dance lessons as a child. “Thank you for saving me from Lord Beswick.” You thank him, speaking softly, almost as if you were frightened to talk to him. Truthfully you were slightly scared to be talking to him, he was a bit intimidating to you.

“No need to thank me, I could not let a lady such as yourself dance with such a man.” Benedict states. His voice enhances your attraction towards him, it being crisp and confident. You had noticed before he always carried himself with confidence and grace. “I shall thank you for it regardless, I do not believe I would have survived another dance with him.” You utter out, still nervous to be in such close proximity to him.

You feel like he has got your heart skipping down sixteenth avenue, it almost beating out of your chest. He gives you a small smirk, looking down at you as you dance. “I have noticed you looking at me, Tonight and whenever your father and I paint at your estate. Is there any particular reason for that, my lady?” He asks, the smirk still lingering on his face.

I think he knows…

#benedict bridgerton x reader #anthony bridgerton x reader #benedict bridgerton smut #bridgerton #bridgerton fanfiction

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alwaysonthemend · 4 months ago

Text

Author's Note: Inspired by this wonderful post. Thank you so much @tripthelightfandomtastic for some incredibly sexy dialogue and @edgingthedarkness for calling it to my attention 🤭

Word Count: 4k

Warnings: 18+ ONLY, MINORS DNI. Jake x fem!reader / rough sex / sir kink / unprotected p in v sex / digital penetration / oral / brief overstimulation / use of gag / some name calling (brat, slut) / minor cock warming at the end / begging / possessiveness (nothing too major) / please let me know if I missed anything.

Apologies for any typos/ spelling mistakes.

Enjoy <3

~~~~~~~~~~~

“I think I need to sleep for at least 12 hours tonight.” Jake tells his twin, patting his pockets for his wallet to pay the bill. “I’m exhausted.”

“Oh is that why you were being so pissy today?” Josh’s grin is smug as he finds his own wallet first and fishes his card out and tosses it onto the waiting bill before Jake can. “Makes sense.”

Jake’s eyes narrow and you fight a tiny smile, trying not to let your amusement show. Jake can be a little moody when he’s tired. And just… in general.

“I’m the pissy one?” Jake counters, flicking Josh’s card off the bill and placing his own there instead. “I seem to be remembering things a little differently.”

Jake’s tone is snarky – just a tiny bit more accusing than Josh’s had been. You already know that Jake had a… rough day today. He’d told you about it in the car – Josh had been demanding retake after retake and Sam had quote on quote, “disagreed with every fucking thing I said just for the hell of it.” In all honesty, knowing the Kiszkas, it had probably been all three of them being more difficult than necessary while Danny had to play mediator… Not that you’d said that to Jake. God, no. You’d only listened, allowing him to vent; nodded and frowned at the right moments. Clearly, tonight’s meal and a few drinks with Josh had done little to help Jake’s temper.

Josh opens his mouth to retort but you interrupt. “I’m going to run to the restroom.” Both sets of matching eyes flash to you as you speak. Josh grins and Jake nods, sliding out of the booth to allow you to exit.

In addition to his sour mood, Jake has been jittery the whole night. You’d noticed from the moment the two of you stepped into the bar that he had other things on his mind – whether it was a new song or riff or lyrics you couldn’t quite tell. But he was distracted. You know already how common it is that he grows restless, as if there’s so much energy buzzing beneath his skin that he’s hardly able to stand still. At first, it had almost been hard to be around when he got like this. His restlessness so palpable you could practically feel it coating your skin. At first, you would simply move to another room, allow him to sort himself out on his own. But after a little while, it became easier to tune him out – to still navigate around him when he gets like this. His aura has gravity of its own, you’ve come to discover. It’s hard to be apart from him for too long.

He’ll deny it if you ask him if something is wrong. He’ll say he’s fine – that he’s not upset about today anymore and that he’s acting perfectly normal. So you don’t bother asking. Instead, you simply allow his energy to wash over you as you watch him interact with his twin at the booth.

By the time you return, they seem to have momentarily put their little dispute on hold as they both turn to look at you as you approach the booth.

“Are you ready, love?” Jake’s voice is smooth – neutral. Betraying nothing of the chaos that you know lies within. “We paid the bill while you were gone.”

“Halfsies.” Josh supplies and Jake’s eyes cut to him for a moment before landing back on you. You nod, smiling at the two of them as they exit the booth in almost complete unison, each twin now holding himself in the exact same manner as the other as they prepare to leave. “It was nice actually getting to see you.” Josh continues as the three of you walk through the restaurant and to the door. “Jake always keeps you to himself when we’re home.”

Josh is teasing; you can tell by the slight dimple that has appeared on his left cheek as he speaks. But Jake tenses ever so slightly beside his twin as you all come to a stop on the sidewalk outside. The night air is warm – humid enough that it makes your skin feel sticky. The joys of a Tennessee summer.

“He can be just a little selfish, I suppose.” You answer back, thinking nothing of it. But again, that energy around Jake seems to increase, his chocolate eyes flashing in the light spilling out into the air from inside the bar.

“Am I not allowed to miss her when we leave?” Jake queries, slipping a heavy arm around your waist in such a way that it almost feels possessive. “Plus, I’m always stuck with you.” He says to his twin, grinning a little. “Who would blame me for wanting her to myself when we are home?”

Josh’s brow raises, a knowing glance shot towards you before he regards his twin. He senses Jake’s energy – the restlessness; senses that he could easily poke the bear and start a senseless argument that would no doubt descend into an actual fight. But he holds himself back, metaphorically biting his tongue as he gives Jake a little grin.

“Can’t blame you at all, brother. Not at all.” His grin turns a little wicked. “But maybe you should share her more often – she was my friend first, afterall.”

So perhaps he hadn’t decided against poking the bear afterall. You fight the smile that threatens to overtake you, realizing that now might not be the time to pick sides by agreeing with Josh. He had been the one to know you first. He’d been the one to introduce you to Jake, even. But Jake needs no reminder of that little fact right now.

“I see you plenty.” You offer, feeling the pointed squeeze of Jake’s fingers into your hip, “Plus, you constantly blow my phone up with texts. We talk plenty, Joshua.”

Josh grins and shrugs his shoulders, looking pleased anyway.

“Great seeing you.” Jake offers. “But I’m sick of you already.”

Josh laughs, completely unaffected by his brother’s words. He’s used to it. He knows deep down Jake doesn’t mean them… too much.

“Love you too, Jakey.” Josh grins at you – the exact same grin that Jake gave him just a moment ago. “Lovely to see you as always, Y/n. Hopefully someone lets me see you again before we leave.”

“I hope so, too.” You answer him, laughing just a little despite your best efforts.

Josh gives a theatrical sweeping bow before turning on his heel and disappearing to his Jeep, laughing the whole way. Jake scowls and tugs you away towards his own vehicle, that heavy arm still pointedly around your waist.

He opens your door for you, a soft “Princess” leaving his lips as he dips his head a little. You grin and climb into the car and he closes the door behind you.

Jake playing guitar is sinful. But Jake behind the wheel of a car? It’s downright indecent – something that no matter how many times you see it, it still gets you just a little. The thick muscles of his forearm twitch and move beneath his newly tan skin (thank you Europe tour) and the clench of his jaw as he watches the road has you clenching your thighs. To your credit, you only stare a little bit as he drives the two of you back to his house (His house, not yours. Something that once again feels pointed.) Neither of you speak much, the silence between the two of you just as comfortable as idle chit chat. Fleet Foxes flow softly from the speakers, filling the air between the two of you that seems to grow thicker and thicker with each passing moment.

“See something you like?”

You startle, eyes cutting up to see the curve of Jake’s lips as he continues staring out at the road ahead. Apparently you had been staring too much – enough for him to notice, anyway. Cheeks flushing, you shake your head in denial.

“Just thinking.”

His brow raises and it does nothing to quell the heat pooling in your lower belly. “About?” He urges you on, tilting his head as if to hear you better. You open your mouth to give a bullshit answer but he interrupts. “And don’t say work or the weather. I already know what you’re thinking.” Your jaw snaps shut. The fucker.

“If you know, then why did you ask?” Your tone comes out a little brattier than you meant it to and Jake’s fingers tighten on the wheel. Seems that Josh isn’t the only one who’s going to poke the bear tonight.

“Because I wanted to hear you say it.”

“Say what?”

A sharp exhale is the only evidence you have that Jake heard you. Refusing to give you a response, he flicks on the blinker to turn onto his street in a way that somehow seems snarky. It doesn’t take long before he’s pulling into his driveway and putting the car in park. Dark eyes turn to you, looking almost black in the dim light of the car.

“Get out.”

His tone leaves no space for arguing and you quickly unbuckle and stumble out of the car. Jake doesn’t wait on you – crossing the driveway to the front door in long strides, fishing for his key from his pocket. As you follow, you admire the broadness of his shoulders, the dominance within his gait alone, and yet another thrill of anticipation curls down your spine and settles between your thighs. He opens the door, not even sparing a glance backwards at you. He knows you’re following, knows you’ll follow him into the very depths of Hell if he asked.

You expect him to pounce as the door closes. But instead, he merely slips his shoes off and places them neatly by the door. His keys and wallet are placed on the foyer table. Your shoes join his by the door. Then your purse on the hook. You walk deeper into the house, making your way into the kitchen – one eye on Jake as he moves about the space, orbiting you but not yet taking the step to touch you. It puts you on edge in an odd, delicious sort of way. He’s like a shark who’s scented blood; not yet going in for the kill, but instead waiting for the right moment to strike. You grab a glass from the cabinet and pour yourself a glass of water from the sink. The cool liquid doesn’t at all soothe the fire running through your veins.

Not a second after you place the glass on the counter, you finally feel the heat of him pressing up against your back. His arms circle your waist and his lips hover over the sensitive skin of your ear.

“I don’t mean to be so possessive.” He murmurs, his lips brushing against your skin. “Or pissy. ‘m sorry.” He mumbles, voice low. The heat in your belly simmers just a little, easing into something softer for a moment.

“You have nothing to apologize for.” You answer him, tilting your head to the side as his kisses trail softly down your neck.

Using his grip around your waist, Jake pulls you tighter against him. You tilt your head back towards him and he kisses you – soft but urgent. His hands caress your sides, your hips, then come up to cup your jaw as his tongue slips through your parted lips. He’s thorough, kissing you as if he’s savoring a meal.

“Why are you being so sweet?” You’d been fully expecting a night of Jake using you to get all his frustration and energy out – an occurrence that you were more than looking forward to. His sweetness is a welcome surprise, though not at all how you saw this night going.

He kisses along your jaw before seizing your earlobe between his teeth, nipping delicately before his mouth trails lower. His hips press into you and there’s no hiding the hard line of him in his pants, hot and pulsing against you.

“I just want you to know how much I love you,” He whispers against your neck, giving you more kisses, “and how much I respect you,” another kiss. “because I'm gonna fuck you like I hate you.”

All the air leaves your lungs and your heart feels like it might beat out of your chest. The earnestness and simplicity with which he utters such vulgarity is the sexiest thing you’ve ever experienced, leaving your brain empty of anything beyond your desire for him. But he’s taking too long now, his sweet kisses no longer enough and leaving you hollow and aching for him to fulfill the promise of his warning. The words slip out from your lips unbidden.

“Why don’t you get the fuck on with it, then?”

His body goes rigid for one beat, maybe two, and then he spins you impossibly fast, a hand against your stomach, pressing you back into the wall. He captures your wrists with the other, holding them prisoner above your head.

“Fuckin’ brat.” He groans against your mouth and the rough timbre of his voice floods your veins with a wave of primal need for him. “This is the thanks I get for trying to be sweet to you?” His shoulders are tense, the muscles taut with pent up energy and frustration. You aren’t sure what it is that’s got him in such a state but you want to replace it all with lust. You want him to take it out on you – to give you the overwhelming pleasure that you know he’s capable of delivering. “Well?”

“Fuck me.” You demand in lieu of answering him and his eyes seem to come alive as his nostrils flare at your tone. “Sir.” You add, the word dripping with sarcasm, making a mockery of the title that he’s more than earned in the bedroom.

His breathing changes and there’s a war in his eyes that you’re determined to win. He leans down, his face only inches from yours. “I don't think you know what you’re asking for, Princess.” The nickname, the growl of his words rumbles up through his chest and every nerve ending in your body flares to life.

His mouth collides with yours in a kiss – a rough, demanding thing as he plunges his tongue between your lips, seizing your mouth as his. Lust strokes down your spine and wetness floods your panties as he takes your ass in his hands and hauls you up against his hips. Your back presses into the wall as you use it for leverage to get closer to him. You lock your legs around his waist as your hands settle on his shoulders, the muscles quivering beneath your touch.

Heat floods your body in an addictive rush, setting every inch of you aflame as his lips trail down the column of your throat, nipping and biting as he goes. But they aren’t gentle as they had been before – no, the sting of his teeth lets you know that your neck will be a mess in the morning, a painting of swirling purples and reds that will stand as testament to how far you pushed him tonight. The hedonistic, lecherous part of you is only excited further by the thought.

With your legs still wrapped around his waist, Jake walks backwards and turns you. Before you can even open your mouth to ask him where he’s going, your back hits the kitchen table. He hadn’t used as much force as you know he could have, but Jake had placed you hard enough onto the wooden surface that the breath in your lungs freezes for a moment as you glance up at his looming figure above you. He presses in close, roughly gripping your knees and shoving them apart so that he can walk forward and take up the space between them.

“Hands above your head.” The words are rough – more of a growl than anything and you instantly comply, suddenly feeling unable to do anything other than what he asks of you. His fingers trail down your torso, his touch searing your skin even through the fabric of your blouse. His fingers trail underneath, slipping up your stomach and then behind your back. He tugs the blouse off you and onto the floor. With impressive skill, he then unhooks your bra behind your back and tosses it away as well, eyes now trained on the hard peaks of your nipples as you lay there exposed for him. He pauses, as if drinking in the sight of you, and impatience has you speaking before thinking once again.

“You just going to stand there and stare?” As soon as the question leaves your mouth you know that you’ve really done it now. Jake’s gaze turns wicked, his grin devilish, as he shakes his head at you.

“Y’know you’re lucky,” He begins, stepping back from you and unbuckling his belt. His fingers work slowly to pull it from his belt loops. When he at last gets it free, he reaches down and grips your hands where they rest obediently above your head, “that you’re so pretty. Otherwise I wouldn’t put up with that fucking mouth of yours.” Slowly, teasingly, he wraps the leather of his belt around your wrists and then cinches it tight, securing your wrists tightly together and then placing them back down onto the table above your head.

Your body tingles with sinful pleasure and excitement at the feeling of being bound, at being kept where he wants you. Despite your mouth saying things before you can think them through, you desperately want to please the man above you. You want to worship him, to give him anything and everything he could ever ask of you. You begin to respond to him but he silences you with a heavy hand over your mouth.

“Careful, Princess. Before I make you shut up with my cock, yeah?” Eyes wide, you nod and Jake lifts his hand with a satisfied nod. “What do you say to me?”

“Yes sir.” The words are shaky, thick with lust. It takes all your focus to make your brain form the words, to make your lips form the correct sounds. You can hardly think beyond the lust swirling inside your head.

Jake doesn’t reward you with praise for your compliance as he normally would and disappointment trickles through you for the briefest of moments. But then his mouth is on your nipple, his fingers digging into your hips to hold you still. He bites down and you whimper, core pulsing as his tongue swirls around the hard bud to soothe the sting. Then he’s trailing lower, searing kisses working their way down your belly until he reaches the waistband of your skirt. Jake bunches the fabric up around your hips, exposing your damp panties for him to admire. You wish desperately that he would take the damn skirt off completely but you know that you’re in no position to be making requests.

“Look at you.” His words are honey sweet, dripping with thinly veiled desire. You can feel his hot breath on your clothed heat, his white teeth flashing as he grins up at you smugly. “You’ve ruined these poor things, haven’t you?”

You whimper as he trails the pad of his finger over your clothed clit, causing your hips to jump up towards his hand. Jake hooks his fingers in your panties with his left hand, shoving the fabric to the side – clearly unwilling to even take the time to pull them all the way off you. Then his other hand is hovering over your center, fingers running through your slick as he hums in approval. Without any more warning, he plunges a finger inside of you, curling upwards deliciously and instantly finding that spot inside of you that drives you crazy.

You cry out, back arching up off the wooden table. Your hands lift up off the table and then slam back downwards, anything else feeling uncomfortable thanks to Jake’s belt keeping them bound.

“So responsive.” Jake shows no mercy, quickly sinking another finger inside of you. Distantly, your foggy mind realizes that – even though he promised to fuck you like he hates you, you know that he would never do anything without properly prepping you first. If you were able to focus on anything other than his fingers, you might have thanked him. Instead, all you can do is moan as he works you masterfully with his fingers.

“Jake.” You plead as he abuses your sweet spot over and over, keeping you hovering over the edge of release. “Jake, please.” You beg again as he gives no indication that he’s heard you other than grinning devilishly. “Jake, I can’t- I need-” The words won’t form right no matter how hard you try, the agonizing pleasure proving to be too much.

“I know exactly what you need.” Jake answers darkly, “But you’re not asking nicely, are you?”

Eyes clenched shut, you shake your head frantically. “Please, sir?” You try instead, hips bucking forward to try and find some sort of friction. “Please make me cum? Please, please, sir.” Even to your own ears you sound pathetic but you can’t be bothered to care. All you can think about is how badly you need to cum, how incredible his fingers feel. All you can think about is Jake. “Sir, please-”

“Enough.” Jake’s fingers leave you, and you whimper loudly in protest. But you’re silenced as Jake suddenly tugs even harder on your panties. The fabric digs harshly into your skin, and then you hear the sound of fabric tearing. Jake rips them from you, and then he’s shoving the ruined fabric into your gaping mouth, silencing you as the taste of your own arousal floods your tongue. Wide-eyed, all you can do is stare at him.

Jake, looking entirely too smug and pleased with himself, eases his fingers back into your aching cunt and has you back to the edge in mere seconds, your whimpers and cries muffled by the panties shoved between your lips. Finally, Jake’s mouth descends onto your clit, his fingers never once slowing or faltering as he sucks your clit mercilessly. Your orgasm swoops in – quick, overwhelming, the pleasure white hot as it rocks through your body. Muscles quivering, you scream through your make-shift gag as Jake moans into your pussy, his eyes closing as if the taste of you is a gourmet meal.

When at last he pulls away, you're left there in a daze – aching for more of him already. Clearly just as desperate to feel you fully, Jake grips your hips and brings your ass to the edge of the table. With impressive speed Jake rips his shirt off over his head and then even quicker has his trousers off and discarded to the floor.

His cock – achingly hard and the head glistening with precum, has your mouth watering. He steps between your legs once more and instinctively your legs wrap around his waist, bringing your slick pussy to rsst his beautiful cock. Jake hikes your skirt up higher to your belly and then his left hand finds your hip – his grip bruising. Gripping his length in the other, Jake runs his cock through your folds, gathering your slick before nudging the blunt head against your entrance.

“Fuckin’ take it.” He growls, sheathing himself fully inside of you at last. Jake groans deeply and you moan the best you can through your gag. Giving you no time at all to adjust, Jake’s pace is immediately brutal. After three hard thrusts, his cock brushing against your sweet spot each time thanks to the angle of your hips, the sting of him quickly bleeds into pleasure. The table creaks and groans beneath you, the legs screeching against the kitchen floor as Jake pounds into you.

"Such a slut." Jake groans, but somehow he makes the word seem like a compliment. The wet squelching sound coming from between your legs would be embrassing if Jake didn't look like he could fall apart already. "You like it when I treat you like this?"

You nod frantically in answer, loving every second and still wanting more.

"'Course you do." The words escape through gritted teeth, his voice shaky despite the hard persona he's putting on. "Shit, Y/n."

Jake’s gaze falls down between the two of you, eyes trained on where he moves in and out of you, his skin growing shiny with sweat. His hair sticks to his temples and the side of his neck, his necklaces swinging and clinking in the air between the two of you. “Look so fucking good stretched around my cock.”

You can’t answer, the feel of him moving inside of you too perfect to think of anything else. Jake’s hips slap against yours, his impressive stamina allowing his pace to remain fast, mercilessly, without faltering for even a second. It doesn’t take long for the heat simmering in your lower belly to rise, your body plummeting once again, head first, towards your second orgasm. Jake’s mouth is open, his brows furrowing as his own release draws nearer and nearer. His hand reaches up and pulls your ruined panties from your mouth at last and instantly your cries – once muffled, echo throughout the room along with the sound of Jake’s skin slapping against yours.

“Say my name when you cum.” Jake orders, his thumb finding your clit and circling the swollen bud. His touch isn’t gentle – the pace just as brutal as the pace of his hips slamming into yours. Your orgasm hits you like a freight train and you scream Jake’s name, the muscles in your body convulsing violently.

“Oh fuck. Fuck, Y/n.” Jake’s pace finally begins to falter as your walls clench around him. Jake’s left hand braces against the edge of the table, his knuckles turning white from the force of his grip. A litany of curses and groans fills the air as Jake spills inside of you, the feeling of his hot release making your eyes roll back. Your body burns with pleasure – pleasure that is dangerously close to bleeding into hot agony from overstimulation.

Finally, Jake stills, his cock softening inside of you as he breathes out shakily, one hand coming up to wipe the sweat from his forehead. Still staying inside of you, the feeling of him there somehow comforting, Jake reaches up and unbinds your wrists. He brings each one to his lips in turn, kissing the red skin where the leather had been digging into you.

“I love you.” He offers, his brown eyes now regarding you with a soft, almost sympathetic look. “My princess.” His fingers gently trace over your lips, his touch reverent.

“Love you more.” You murmur tiredly,

“Impossible.”

<fin>

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#dee's writing #jake kiszka x reader #jake kiszka smut #jake kiszka

267 notes · View notes

silkythewriter · 10 months ago

Note

Hello! New anon here, um, so we have the headcanons for Vox x extravert reader. But what are your headcanons for Vox x introvert reader?

Got me curious :3

Vox x introvert reader!

Warnings!: Non!

Fandom!:Hazbin hotel!

Author note!: AH I WAS WAITING FOR SOMETHING LIKE THIS (≧▽≦) TYSM FOR REQUESTING THIS! Hazbin hotel has my mind running and my hyperfixation on this show is actually wild. IM SO GREATFUL FOR ALL THE REQUESTS TRUELY

Summary!: Vox with a introverted reader!

❤️Written by silkythewriter Do not steal or repost on any other platform please! <3❤️

꧁𖦹𖦹𖦹𖦹𖦹𖦹𖦹𖦹𖦹𖦹𖦹𖦹𖦹𖦹𖦹𖦹𖦹𖦹𖦹𖦹𖦹𖦹𖦹𖦹𖦹𖦹𖦹𖦹𖦹꧂

★📺✨!Vox!✨📺★

First things first, he always makes sure the paparazzi’s back off. Being with one of the more popular and powerful overloads is definitely going to come with some press!. But don’t worry you’ll little head off he can always just zap the equipment or threaten them.

As the show shows us he’s one little show off! But as much as he’d love to show what’s his and who’s he’s with he’d keep it private if your uncomfortable with the sudden spot light.

Depending on your personality behind closed doors, like if your more on the calmer side, or on the but more ecstatic side, it will determine what he prefers to do with you!

If your on the calmer he’d love to wind down in your arms and just lay for a bit! Maybe put on the latest news. Or show you the good press he’s getting for his latest invention. He likes having someone to listen like actually listen as much as he likes having power and using it to scare people. It does effect his daily conversation with people since they want to get one his bad side, so he adores the calm conversations with you! Even if your more a listener then a talker.

Now if you were more on the hyper side behind closed doors, he’s gonna be so confused. Where was all this energy when you guys were in the building?! ヘ（° □°）ヘ!!

Once you explain your a bit more introverted in-front of people you don’t know. Which he has to admit he gets it to a degree.

Most of the time he handles any social interaction and takes the lead if someone approaches you not that he’s jelly of them or anything! Yk that meme where it’s like

“They said no pickles” that’s quite literally you and him

Sometimes holds your hand or links pinky’s with you if your ever feeling a bit overwhelmed by all the workers in the building, or the camera shoved into your face. He hates seeing so stress so he dose his best to figure something out, which he always does!

If your not a busy demon like him and are just with him for most of the day which he will admit in secret he absolutely loves he has your own little space in the three Vs building for you to chill out and not get interrupted. He filled it with whatever you said you’d like, even stuff you didn’t tell him… weird…(💧゜^゜)

Sometimes teases you, just because he doesn’t like seeing you upset doesn’t mean he’s gonna let you get away that easy!

Like one time him you and the two other Vs were ordering over phone and rang up the place. Before handing you the phone hurriedly as they picked up making you stammer and stumble over your words from surprise. He cracked up over this, now your always alert when he has a phone around you…

He’s devious, sometimes he makes you go up and ask for straws or something you always end up getting a bit freaked out only for him to laugh as he calls the waiter himself and does it. Yea he’s foul.. -_-

On the brighter note! He always with you in a second if your having trouble with a person and are to nervous to speak up. He dosent mind doin it for you!

Makes you steer clear of the other Val and velvet, their chatter boxes, also he just prefers you to not have to talk to them.

Sometimes he basks in the pure knowledge that your more comfortable with him then others

Overall! He does tease!, he loves the expressions you make!, but in all honesty even with his personality and attuned he’s a sweetheart! Does whatever makes you uncomfortable for you!, he’s a gentleman after all.

꧁𖦹𖦹𖦹𖦹𖦹𖦹𖦹𖦹𖦹𖦹𖦹𖦹𖦹𖦹𖦹𖦹𖦹𖦹𖦹𖦹𖦹𖦹𖦹𖦹𖦹𖦹𖦹𖦹𖦹꧂

AHHHH TYSM FOR REQUESTING!!! I LOVED WRITING THIS AND I LOVE SEEING WHAT I CNA DO WITH CONTRASTING HEADCANONS LIKE THESE I HOPE YOU LIKE IT! ☆ ～('▽^人)

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callmeagardengnome · 4 months ago

Text

˚ʚ paint my world ɞ˚ | SONG MINGI

pairings ᯓ idol!mingi x painter! fem!reader

genre ᯓ soulmate au, one-shot

synopsis ᯓ you’ve been seeing in black and white for all your life - until a popular idol comes in and changes things

w.c ᯓ 2.7k

author’s note: make sure to like and repost!!

not proofread!

masterlist

blue. you’ve never seen blue before.

you stood in front of the clothing rack in shock, trying to process what you were looking at.

from the moment you were born, you were cursed by your soulmark. colour was something that was foreign to you, something that didn’t seem real. you never understood why your friends would fight over certain crayons or when people looked up to the sky, admiring its beauty - it all looked the same to you.

as depressing as it sounds, seeing in black and white wasn’t too bad. you weren’t distracted by the things around you and you could actually focus in school for the most part.

sure, you had a few awkward moments. like when you wore a completely mismatched outfit - highlighter yellow shirt paired with murky orange pants and pastel pink shoes. if anything, it taught you a learning lesson to always ask your parents for fashion advice.

ironically, you became a painter after you graduated. you were always a creative kid and being colourblind wasn’t going to hold you back from releasing your works into the universe.

you slowly rose to fame, with your artworks capturing the eyes of millions around the world. you even managed to earn a lot of money from it, leading you to buy more supplies for your job.

you stood up from your chair, cracking your back. you’ve been working on this certain art piece for at least 7 hours and you decided to finally take a break. it’s been a while since you’ve painted - you took a short holiday to one of your favourite countries which led you to forget the long hours of sitting down.

you reached for your phone, dialling your best friend’s number.

“hello?” your best friend’s voice echoed in the room.

“i’m boredd,” you groaned out, flopping onto your bed. “can we do something?”

she chuckled. “i’m guessing you’re done painting?”

“i’m taking a break,” you said, shifting, making yourself more comfortable.

“if you want, i can pick you up and we can go shopping?” your best friend suggested, her voice sounding more excited.

“you know me so well,” you replied, hanging up almost immediately. you ran to your closet and picked out a simple outfit, one that you knew matched each other.

you scrolled through your phone, waiting for your best friend to text you. when she finally came to pick you up, the both of you went to your favourite shopping centre, looking at the different stores.

that was what led you to.. blue? pink? yellow?

in all honesty, you had no idea of what colour you were looking at. when your best friend decided to stop at a random clothing store, you thought that it wouldn’t hurt to look around a little bit. while she was in the women’s section, you went over to the men’s section - you never know if they have better clothes.

you browsed through the selection of clothes mindlessly until a shirt caught your eye. “ayo what-“

you went closer to the shirt, one that stood out in a vibrant colour against the monochrome background. you touched the sleeves, the material. it was alien to you. for all of your life, everything was in greyscale. you’ve never seen anything as bright, or beautiful as this shirt that was in front you. you took a moment to inspect the shirt, wanting to imprint the colour into your mind. after all, you never know the next time you would see actual colour.

“‘____’?”

you turned to look at your best friend, who stood a few steps away from you, looking confused.

“…are you okay?” she asked cautiously, not knowing why you looked so stunned.

“dude-“ you coughed out, glancing between the shirt and your best friend. “i can see colour.”

her jaw dropped. “wait- really? can you see the colour of my shoes?” she pointed at her shoes eagerly, nearly dropping the pile of clothes she was carrying.

“well- no..” you replied, disappointed. “but i can see the colour of this shirt..?”

“hm..” your best friend hummed, moving closer to you. she awkwardly reached into her pocket, before starting to google about your soulmark.

˚𝜗𝜚˚⋆｡☆ ⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖ ࣪ ⋆˚ʚɞ ⋆｡𖦹°⭒˚｡⋆

when mingi found out that ATEEZ was going on tour, he wasn’t exactly thrilled. of course, he was happy that he got to meet the international ATINY, but he couldn’t help but feel slightly disappointed that he couldn’t properly enjoy the trip.

to him, he didn’t really see the fun in leaving the country, or even going outside. everything looked the same to him. no matter what, he couldn’t see the true beauty of the things around him - so what was the point of feeling excited to go overseas?

mingi flinched when the lights shined intensely in the plane. he slept throughout the entire plane ride, not even bothering to look outside the windows. he absentmindedly followed his group, trailing behind everyone as they got off the plane.

“what..?” his thoughts echoed in his head as he looked around at the airport.

it was.. bright. unusually bright.

it was almost comical how bright the airport was - it even hurt his eyes. he had to blink a couple of times to make sure that he wasn’t hallucinating.

he stopped following the group, taking in his surroundings. was this what normal people saw?

everything was so.. vibrant and bold. he couldn’t even comprehend that people could see this on the daily and not talk about it more. sure, he bumped into a few people by stopping suddenly, but that didn’t matter - in fact, nothing else mattered. mingi could see colour, and he wasn’t planning to stop anytime soon.

“dude are you okay?” yunho snapped his fingers in front of mingi, finally catching his attention.

mingi furrowed his eyebrows, hitting yunho’s hand away from his face. yunho looked at mingi, concerned. “we’ve been calling you for the past five minutes, why are you standing in the middle of nowhere?”

mingi turned away from yunho, shifting his eyes around the airport. “i can see colour.”

a collective ‘WHAT’ was heard from the group as they gathered around mingi, attacking him with questions.

“i don’t know, maybe this airport is just.. different?” mingi said, unsure.

“does that mean your soulmate is here?” wooyoung asked, looking at his members curiously.

“maybe,” seonghwa shrugged, typing in his phone. “i just googled it, apparently you can see colour of the objects your soulmate touches or the places they’ve been in often.”

yunho whistled. “that means your soulmate in the same city as us,” he said, nudging mingi.

mingi smiled, running his fingers through his hair. “how long are we staying here again?”

“..four days?”

“i only have four days to find my soulmate?” mingi exclaimed, his eyes widening in shock. “how am i supposed to do that?”

“i mean.. we have one rest day..?”

mingi groaned, his face in his hands. he was so caught up with the thought of finding his soulmate that tour completely left his mind. he had spent all of his life in black and white and he didn’t want to return back to that.

mingi asked his members to teach him the different colours. he ended up learning that colour can have different hues, brightness and he didn’t want to stop being surrounded by these colours.

unfortunately, they had to leave the airport due to their packed schedule. everything became ten times more boring. the cars passing by, the trees, the pavement, nothing interested him anymore.

his member’s obviously noticed his change in mood and did a small detour to a nearby shopping centre. they wandered around, going to different stores, looking at the different items the city had to offer.

mingi cheered up a bit when he entered a clothing store that was his style. he made a beeline to the men’s section and tried on a shirt that he liked. unluckily, his manager had to drag him to the car, preventing him from buying the shirt.

luckily for you though, fate brought you to the shirt. you unhooked it from the rack, bringing it closer to your face.

“what colour is this?” you asked your best friend.

“it’s blue,” she answered with a wide grin on her face, barely containing her excitement.

you nodded, unable to take your eyes off of the shirt. “where is blue found?”

“the sky,” she said eagerly. “the ocean too, it’s really beautiful.”

she added, “blue is normally used for sadness though. a lot of films portray it that way.”

you didn’t know that a beautiful colour like blue, could be associated with such a depressing emotion. it didn’t make sense to you.

however, you put off your feelings of confusion. now wasn’t the time to question these sorts of things. now was the time to find your soulmate.

˚𝜗𝜚˚⋆｡☆ ⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖ ࣪ ⋆˚ʚɞ ⋆｡𖦹°⭒˚｡⋆

it was day 3 of ATEEZ being in your city. with each day passing by, mingi felt more and more anxious. he hated the fact that he didn’t have time to find you and how he had to spend most of his time performing.

obviously, he was extremely grateful that he got to meet his fans, but there was a part of him that always felt irritated.

not only that, on the day that he was planning on resting, he got interrupted.

“shouldn’t you ask someone else?” mingi asked, raising an eyebrow.

“no one here likes art,” hongjoong groaned, sitting next to mingi. “i get that you’re colourblind but pleasee accompany me.”

hongjoong was begging mingi to follow him to an art museum. there was art exhibition going on that was intriguing to hongjoong - but unfortunately, was not interesting to his members. this led to hongjoong asking his colourblind member as a last resort to follow him to the museum.

“maybe you can find your soulmate there,” hongjoong mentioned, wiggling his eyebrows.

“i doubt it,” mingi scoffed. “but you know what? i’ll follow you.. cuz i’m a good friend.”

hongjoong rolled his eyes before running off to get ready for the art exhibition.

˚𝜗𝜚˚⋆｡☆ ⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖ ࣪ ⋆˚ʚɞ ⋆｡𖦹°⭒˚｡⋆

you looked at yourself in the mirror, debating what outfit to wear. should you go casual? formal? after a year of working on it, the launch of your art exhibition was finally here. it was an important milestone in your life and you did not want to mess it up.

you sighed, walking over to your closet. your eyes immediately landed on the vibrant blue shirt hanging on the side of your dull wardrobe. was this the right choice? it was a nice shirt, and it did feel nice to know what colour you were wearing for once.

after considering it, you grabbed the shirt from the rack and hurriedly put it on. you needed to make it to the museum quick - after all, you didn’t want to be late to such an important event.

you booked a taxi to the museum, going over to where your artworks were stationed. you looked at your art pieces in pride, unable to stop yourself from smiling wildly at them.

mingi and hongjoong reached the museum slightly later than they wanted to. they had to squeeze through the swarm of art enthusiasts crowding at the front of the exhibition.

when the two men finally reached the start of the exhibition, they’re eyes widened in shock. while hongjoong was impressed by your artistic talents, mingi’s jaw was on the ground for a different reason.

it was fully coloured.

he’s never seen a coloured picture before, let alone a painting. when he glanced over at the other art pieces, he noticed that they were too, coloured vividly.

“why- why is this coloured?” mingi muttered to himself, moving closer to the painting.

“you can see this?” hongjoong asked in surprise.

mingi nodded, walking over to another painting. “yeah.. all of the paintings actually.”

the two of them stood in silence, both thinking about what this could mean.

“dude- is the artist your soulmate?” hongjoong exclaimed, staring at mingi with wide eyes. “you can see colour of the objects your soulmate touch right?”

“uhuh..”

“you need to find her,” hongjoong said, squeezing mingi’s arm. “it’s the first day of the exhibition, she’s 100% here.”

mingi wasn’t prepared at all to meet you. the idea of even being in the same area as you terrified him. he was thinking about finding you on their last day in the city, he hadn’t even finished planning out what he wanted to say to you.

unfortunately, hongjoong pushed mingi away, forcing him to look for you.

mingi had zero clue of what you looked like - he had no idea of who he was looking for. after a while, he noticed that one of his shoe laces were untied and kneeled down to tie them. that was when he noticed something strange.

he saw blue-coloured footsteps littered all over the ground. he quickly stood up, looking around the room like a madman. at first, he was was searching for you without any real evidence of you being at the museum, but now, everything changed.

you were actually there, and he was going to do his best to find you.

as creepy as it sounds, mingi followed your footsteps, trying to trace where you were going. it was obvious that you were frantically running around the museum, for reasons that he did not know.

while mingi was trying his hardest to find you, you were trying your hardest to prevent any issues from happening. there had been certain entry problems or people requesting you to explain some of your artworks, which led you to scurry around the museum.

your eyes were glued to your clipboard that had all of the things you needed to take note of jotted down. you were so focused that you accidentally bumped into someone.

“sorry-“ you apologised quickly.

mingi picked up your clipboard and handed it to you. not expecting much of the interaction, he almost immediately moved away from you until.. you made eye contact.

the world around you seemed to stop.

the colours came in gradually at first - the blush of red in your cheeks, the rich colours in your eyes, the vibrant blue of your shirt. it was like the first brushstrokes of a painting, the colours spread and bloomed, saturating everything around you.

you blinked, staring at the man in front of you. the moment you locked eyes with him, you knew. he was the one - your missing piece. your soulmate.

“hey,” he spoke up, his deep voice surprising you slightly.

“hi..” you replied, barely above a whisper.

the both of you stood up, the universe revealing itself to you. for the first time, you saw the world in its true beauty - it was alive.

the museum held different hues, different shades of colours you could barely recognise, each colour filling you with a joy you didn’t know you could feel.

mingi smiled. “i can’t believe it,” he said softly. “it’s so.. beautiful.”

you could feel tears welling up in your eyes, your emotions bubbling to the surface. “it really is,” you said, unable to pull your gaze away from him.

mingi wiped the tear rolling down your face, pulling you closer to him.

“you’re so pretty..” he muttered, studying your face.

there was a pause - one that was comfortable. the two of you stared into each other’s eyes, not wanting to look away.

“can i try something?” mingi asked, tilting your jaw up.

your heart raced as a blush crept up to your cheeks. “sure,” you replied, feeling a flutter in your chest.

mingi leaned in slowly, giving you plenty of time to back away if you wanted to. but you didn’t. instead, you closed the distance between the two of you with your lips meeting in a tender kiss.

the world around you seem to overflow with colour, with the blue in your shirt mixing with the brown of his jacket. the colours in your paintings swirled, creating a beautiful illusion of contrast.

the both of you pulled back, smiling at each other. you saw his warm brown eyes, his hair and how his cheeks were dusted with a light pink.

“i’m so glad i found you,” he said, tracing his thumb across your jaw. “i don’t feel so blue anymore.”

any and all feedback appreciated <3

other fics

series taglist [OPEN] - @jiwoongsblondehair @hwasbabygirl @chngbnwf @passerbyforfun @butterfliesinthesky @ismelllikechlorine247 @pansexual-and-eating-pancakes @forever-atiny @arki-sha

#gnomeo 🥫#gnomeo🥫writes #ateez #ateez fanfic #ateez fic #ateez x reader #atz #atz fic #atz x reader #soulmate au #mingi #song mingi #ateez mingi #mingi x reader #ateez ot8 #ateez fluff #ateez soulmate au

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erosology · 2 months ago

Text

a taste of domesticity | simon "ghost" riley

❀ cw/tw: NSFT, fem reader (afab anatomy, fem pet names), established relationship, american author trying to make an english person's dialogue sound authentic, you'll have to pry blond-haired and brown-eyed simon from my cold dead hands, tooth-rotting fluff, undertones of obsession and codependency (because duh it's me), soft dom simon, thigh riding, body worship, praise, oral (f! receiving), unprotected sex

❀ wc: 7,248

❀ a/n: i will never, ever apologize for writing simon as a lovesick slightly pathetic man

If there’s one thing you’ve learned about Simon “Ghost” Riley during your time together, it’s that he takes his job very seriously. So seriously, in fact, he’s often too tired to do much other than eat the dinner you’ve prepared him, take a shower, and go straight to bed. Despite his demanding and hectic career path, you both find ways to spend time together—him allowing you to sit in his lap as he does paperwork, you sneaking into the shower as he gets ready for the night, him coming home early and helping you with dinner—all small things to piece together a picture of domesticity and love Simon has craved his entire life.

But sometimes, he thinks, things in the bedroom are a little…lacking.

He only has himself to blame, really, considering he chose a job that demands every bit of strength he has. But there are times when he’s looking at you, your body wrapped in one of his t-shirts and your hair thrown up into a messy bun as you’re curled up on the couch reading, and he wonders if being a butcher is really that bad.

It’s no matter, though, because as insane and hectic as his job might be, he knows, deep down, he wouldn’t have it any other way. You’re a breath of fresh air for the man who is constantly drowning in his desire to be useful, a lighthouse for the man who is constantly swimming in his failures, a safe place for him to strip himself of the wet clothing trying to cling on to this body (much like how his stormy thoughts try to cling on to him) and bask in your warmth. He’s enamored by your compassion, utterly and completely in love with your honesty, and bewitched by your loyalty—a soulmate for someone who has only ever known chaos.

❛ ━━━━━━･❪ ❀ ❫ ･━━━━━━ ❜

“We should have lemon garlic shrimp tonight,” you suggest to your partner, leaning against his office door frame in hopes maybe he’d look up.

Simon’s eyes don’t even leave his computer as he asks, “What’s the special occasion, love?”

“You’re home in time for dinner for the first time in a month.”

It’s a small stab, he knows it, but it still hurts nonetheless, and you can see him flinch at the blunt edges of your words. He fists clench and unclench, as if debating if he can physically fight off the sense of guilt wrapping around his broad shoulders, before he saves his report progress and shuts his computer down. His movements are always so methodical, measured, but there’s nothing measured about the way he nearly chokes on his own spit when his eyes land on your outfit. Dressed in nothing but one of his t-shirts, thigh high stockings, and a pair of panties, you look nothing short of absolutely divine, and Simon nearly has to check his pulse to make sure he hasn’t died and gone to heaven.

You gaze at him through your eyelashes, eyelids half-closed in lust and the smallest of smirks on your lips. “S’matter, Si? Cat got your tongue?”

It never fails to astound him how easily you rev him up, how you make him feel like some horny teenager on prom night trying to score with his date–clumsy words spilling from his mouth as he tries his hardest to find the magic words to part your legs, palms sweaty as they try to hold your hand, body vibrating with anticipation to see what your tongue tastes like. He’s so unbelievably attracted to you, it makes his head fuzzy with hormones and irrationality, even after all of this time together.

He’s careful as he walks from his desk to you, strong arms wrapping around your waist and his lips brushing your hair. “Are you my starter?” he asks and pinches your thigh for good measure.

You giggle at the rare show of unabashed flirtation from your normally stoic partner and reply coyly, “I could be your dessert if you behave.” Feeling rather bold, you pull him into the kitchen by his belt, and he has to bite his lip to keep the groan clawing at his mouth at bay. You’re too precious for something as barbaric as fevered kisses and frantic hands eager to rip your clothes off. Valuable crystals deserve only the most tender of hands, the most careful of eyes, handled with the utmost precision and patience, and he’s always considered himself a good gemologist.

“C’mere for a second, love,” he says as you turn your back to get started on dinner. Before you can fully turn towards him, he gently cups your jaw and tilts your face up towards his, lips ghosting each other before he finally slots his against yours. You can feel how eager he is, how much he’s holding himself back so as to not break you, so you wrap your arms around his neck and deepen the kiss that much more. That’s all of the motivation he needs, evidently, and he’s quick to wrap your legs around his waist and place you on top of the kitchen counter. Whatever small grip he had on self-control has snapped—a hungry beast finally let free and allowed to feast however he pleases. He wants to completely devour you and keep you safe in his chest—strong bones to keep filthy, undeserving hands from touching you. One taste of you and he’s already drunk on love and all of its promises of companionship and domesticity.

His hands tangle themselves in your hair, fingers massaging your scalp as his tongue gently prods at your mouth. That’s when you pull away, much to your disappointment, and he groans at the lewd line of spit connecting your lips. Mind hazy with lust, he tries to tilt your face towards his again, anxious to eat until all that’s left is a pile of bones and love, but you gently stop him by pressing your fingers to his mouth.

“Was I too rough?” he asks worriedly. “We can slow down, if you want. I just…miss you, is all, and you’re right about this being the first time we’ve had some time together in God knows how long. I…I know ‘s my fault, and I want to make it up to you—if you’re alright with that.”

And he looks so sincere—dark eyes scanning your face for any sign of discomfort, hands resting on your thighs and not daring to move, tongue nervously darting out to lick his lips, chest rising and falling with anticipation—you nearly allow him to devour you right there on the kitchen counter. But you’re determined to have a proper dinner with the man you love more than you could ever hope to comprehend. And what’s a good dinner without a nice show?

Your hands fiddle with the collar of his shirt, teeth gnawing at the inside of your cheek in hopes it’ll calm the hunger rolling around in your stomach. “You weren’t too rough, honey, I promise.” At that, you can see relief flood his features, and you gently tug on his collar so he brings his forehead down to meet yours. The pure adoration in his eyes nearly makes you choke, and you swallow down the lump of emotion that had begun to form in your throat. Simon has always been a gentle man despite his very impassive shell, never pushing you and always ready to communicate boundaries and comfort, so to see him so unraveled after a month of missing him is bringing out a masochistic side of you you’d never knew was buried underneath all of the domesticity. Still, you want to be able to enjoy him as much as possible before the moon hangs high and exhaustion begins to settle into heavy bones.

Simon mildly pulls your hand away from nervously toying with his shirt and kisses your fingers—an action that causes you to shudder with admiration. “Did I push you too much?”

“No, sweetheart. I just really, really want to have a nice dinner with you.”

Chuckling, he kisses your temple and helps you off of the counter, his hands lingering on your hips a little longer than necessary before swatting at your bottom and allowing you to begin cooking. “Then a nice dinner together we shall have.”

It’s intoxicating how much your thighs rub together as you cook dinner, how they jiggle and ripple, and Simon isn’t sure what he’s more hungry for. Your hips sway to and fo to the music—nothing inherently sexual about the movement, but his heart speeds up nonetheless. His dark eyes drink in every inch of you like a parched man in the desert, lapping up every single drop so much, he fears his stomach may burst. But it’d be worth it. It would be absolutely worth any form of torture to be able to touch you, hold you, hear you laugh, watch your lips form the syllables of his name. His greatest high, his greatest weakness, the person he’d try to find in every life after this one, the song he hums to himself when he thinks no one is around—all wrapped up in the prettiest package he has ever had the privilege of laying his eyes on.

Simon “Ghost” Riley, special forces operator trained to deal with things most people only see portrayed in overly-budgeted action movies, is absolutely hypnotized by how absolutely gorgeous you are.

“Didn’t know I was getting dinner and a show,” he nearly purrs at you as you pour him a glass of bourbon. Kentucky, of course.

“Hmm?” You innocently cock your head. “I’m just making you dinner, silly, a very normal thing.”

“Whatever you say, love.”

Lust and hormones roll off of your body in tidal waves, nearly drowning the man under the chaotic waters, but he wouldn’t mind, not really. He could spend hours, days, weeks floating around in all of your oceans, exploring every part of you until he has a clear map ingrained in his brain. He’s in love with your heart, in lust with your body, and enamored by your mind.

A warmth only alcohol can provide spreads across his body, and Simon Riley, known by even his closest friends as stern and forthright, dares to relax in his chair, his legs stretched out in front of him and his eyes half-closed as they watch you sway to the music. At times like this, Simon is reminded of what it’s like to be naïve again, excited, ready to face the world and all of its possibilities. He’s content, basking in the security you provide him with and the knowledge that he has you to call home. He’s safe, and that’s something he’ll never, ever take for granted.

“You look happy,” you giggle, taking note of the pink flush to his face.

He hums, and in the blink of an eye he’s got his arms wrapped around your waist and his chin resting on your head. His lips brush against your hair, fingers fiddling with the t-shirt clinging to your body, and he swears he could stay like this forever if you allowed him to. He thinks this is what paradise must be like—his soulmate wrapped in his arms, the scent of delicious food hanging in the air, music softly playing over the sound of your giggles, his heart let free from its cage and soaring in the air.

“Must be because I am,” he utters into your hair. “I really, really am, sweetheart.”

And though he’s never been one for grandiose displays of affection, he finds himself spinning you around your shared kitchen, strong hands pressed into the small of your back and swaying your bodies to and fro, a makeshift ballroom squished in between the living room and his office.

Your hand fists his shirt, giggles bubbling out of your lips—the most beautiful sound he’ll ever hear. “Simon Riley! What has gotten into you?”

The smile he bears is a gentle one full of love and admiration, and you swear you feel your heart squeeze in your chest. “I’m very lucky to have you. In fact…” And then, his lips are ghosting over yours and his hands are clutching at your hips, desperate to feel you close but scared to admit how much he needs you. “I’d wager I’m the luckiest bastard on this shithole planet.”

“I think you’d lose,” you whisper back, a joyous light dancing in your eyes. “Because I’d wager I’m the luckiest person on this shithole planet to have you.”

He kisses you before he can stop himself, before he can second guess whether or not he’s worthy of your lips, before either of you can begin to decipher what love is and why it heals as much as it hurts. He kisses you and tries his hardest to commit dedication to memory. He kisses you and forgets what the definition of pain is and all he can feel is your fingers carding through his hair. He’s consumed by you—the smell of your shampoo stubbornly clinging to your hair, the feeling of your heart hammering against his, your eyelashes brushing against his cheek, the little squeal you let out when he picks you up, everything, everything everything. All he wants is this moment right here tattooed into his brain, burned into his eyelids so every time he closes his eyes all he can see is bliss and sunlight filtering through.

And though he’s the one with the infamous appetite, he swears he’d crack his ribcage open and allow you to feast as much as you need to. What is love if not all-consuming—cannibalistic desires flooding empty veins until the need to eat is unbearable? Hungry teeth clash against a bare tongue, and he groans loudly into your greedy mouth.

“Simon,” you gasp, “the food—”

“Can wait,” he finishes for you, and you both find yourselves stumbling into a chair. Quickly, he sits down with you on his lap, careful as to not hurt his precious meal. He can feel your cunt throb against his thigh and, god, he needs to eat, eat, eat before he goes completely mad. His thumb draws circles against the growing wet spot on your panties, a groan reverberating in his chest and deep eyes rolling to the back of his head. He sees you’re wearing the pink lacy panties with a white bow that always drive him up the walls of your shared home, and he has to fight the animalistic urge to rip them clean off of your body. No, he won’t be rough no matter how hungry he is. He’s not a beast void of all humanity. He’s simply a man with an empty stomach and the prettiest meal sitting on his lap, and his teeth miss how your skin feels pinched between them.

He easily slides your panties off, an expert in disarming prey, and brings them up to his nose, his eyes never leaving yours.

“Simon,” you moan out at the sight. “Simon, please—”

His hand strikes at your bottom before you can finish your sentence. “Ride my thigh, love.” And he pockets your panties, promising himself he’ll give them back one day.

His big, calloused hands grip your hips as you drag your pussy across his thick thigh, your juices coating his pants but he doesn’t even care. How can he when you look so precious moaning and pleading on his thigh, shaky fingers grasping at his tie to gain some sense of balance? His brown eyes gaze down at you with a predatory light, his bottom lip pinched between his teeth as your grinding becomes more and more erratic.

His voice is strained when he speaks, husky, a caged animal frustrated at not being able to roam free. “That desperate for me, hm? So impatient…” But he can’t deny the erection swelling in his boxers, nor can he deny how hypnotizing it is watching how your brow furrows in concentration with every swivel of your hips. The squelching sound of your drooling cunt is downright filthy, but it’s so intoxicating to the man who gets drunk off of your submission. Adam’s apple bobbing, he tries his hardest to swallow down all of the primal urges flooding his body, to allow you to continue chasing your high, but he can’t stop himself from planting a kiss on your exposed shoulder, nor can he stop himself from resting his forehead upon that very same shoulder. His arms wrap around your torso, bringing your body closer to his so your chests are flushed together, and he groans when he feels your leg brush against his aching cock.

“Si…,” you gasp.

“Shh, just let me do this, darling,” he whispers, his breath tickling your neck. “I want to be close to you.”

Tears poke at the corner of your eyes and your throat constricts, a small gasp leaving your lips before he kisses them gently. A vulnerable Simon is a rare one, but you’re so parched for the smallest taste of intimacy you’re nearly afraid of draining him completely. Still, you wrap your arms around his neck and quicken your pace—anything to keep him close, to keep his face buried in the crook of your neck and his hands stroking at your spine. Shaky fingers bury themselves in short blond hair, pulling at the strands and his heart strings. Trembling thighs squeeze around his own muscular one, and he feels just how hard your heart is slamming itself against your ribcage. What should’ve been an act of climacteric horniness is truly an act of desperate love, depraved intimacy that has been simmering under the surface—two people trying to find themselves buried in each other’s chests.

“Si…” His name rolls off of your tongue so easily, a sound that floods his veins with a warmth his blood couldn’t possibly supply. “Si, please!” Fingernails dig into his back, and he knows just how dire it is for you to feel all of him, but, fuck, he needs to hear you beg a bit more. He needs to be reminded that yes, he is worthy of love, and yes, even with a heart as scarred as his, he is capable of loving back. He needs his ears to be flooded with the sound of unhinged adoration and unwavering dedication. He needs to run his hands all across your skin until he’s able to commit romance to memory and he can’t bear the thought of touching anything else.

Pulling his head back, his amber eyes search your face, fingers gently tracing your bottom lip, and the sheer intensity of his expression has your movements slowing. You’re surprised to see him hesitant, unsure, because in a world of war and uncertainty, Simon Riley is a man made of osmium. He can’t afford the luxury of insecurity in a market that feeds off of humanity. But here he is, one hand keeping your hips stilled as his other one languidly traces all of the bumps and curves of your body, his brow furrowed in concentration as if afraid of breaking you with the slightest of pressure, his eyes full of worry.

“Si—”

“You know I love you, right?” he uncharacteristically cuts you off, his tone steady despite the tremble in his hand.

You answer without missing a beat. “Of course I do. I love you, too, honey.”

He nods, moreso to himself than you, and finally meets your eyes. You’re surprised to see the fire burning in them, how his soft eyes look nearly deadly as he wraps his arms around your chest and brings your body flush against his once again. “Then we’re going to do this the right way.” And before you can ask what he means by that, he lifts your body up with ease, earning a surprised squeak from you. His lips attach themselves against your shoulder, and you wrap your legs around his waist to allow him to carry you easier. “I don’t know what I’d do without you,” he confesses softly between kisses. “You keep me grounded, sweetheart. You keep me sane.”

Longing strangles you and you can’t help but shutter at his raw declaration of love. Simon reminding you how much you mean to him isn’t rare in the least bit–he’s rather forthcoming about his feelings after many months of you teaching him how to loosen his tongue–but to hear it said so tenderly, as if your ears are made of paper and he spits razors with every word, is something worth crying over.

And you do.

Glistening crystals poke at the corner of your eyes as he tenderly lays your body on the bed, and it’s at this moment Simon Riley thinks you’re something worth dying over. His fingers swipe at your tears, rough palm resting against your cheek, and you nuzzle your face into the callouses, a soft smile on your lips and galaxies in your eyes. He’s hopelessly, painfully, undeniably in love with you, and he absolutely hates himself for neglecting you so much.

“Sweetheart,” he begins, voice strained with love and weakness. How can he look into your eyes and apologize for being a horrible partner? You—with your patience and kindness and strength and dedication and selflessness—you deserve better, better than being left alone to wonder if he’s safe and alive. Better than brisk pecks to your forehead after a thoughtfully prepared breakfast. Better than rushed showers and swift promises of love before a day of unguaranteed nights. Better than him. Better than anything someone like him could ever hope to offer you.

And of course—because you’re you, you, you—you place a kiss on his palm. It’s an innocent enough gesture. A quick press of your lips to the palm of his hand. It’s something that he normally wouldn’t think twice about, something he would smile about and then kiss your cheek for. Definitely not something worth gasping over. Not something worth losing his breath over. Not something worth the shudder that wracks his body. Not something worth splitting his soul in two over. But, as he hovers over you, he can feel his shell crumbling away until all that’s left is the part of his heart he’s been saving for someone like you. He can’t breathe, can’t think, not when you’re kissing the same hand that has killed, that has failed, that has been scarred and covered in blood. And then you’re kissing the pulse in his wrist and then his forearm and then his bicep and before he can even warn you to save your kisses for the worthy, you’re kissing his shoulder in the same tender manner he was kissing yours moments ago.

He feels your breath dance across his neck and refuses to move until you give him permission.

“Simon,” you whisper, and his ears ring at how much affection you place in the syllables of his name. “I love you more than I could ever hope to fathom. I don’t think you realize how much you keep me sane.”

“Sweet—”

You silence him with a kiss to his neck, humming at the steady beat in his jugular. “You’re my comfort. You’re my safe space to be myself with no worries about what’s going to happen tomorrow because you’re prepared for anything. You allow me to be neurotic and moody and a ball of stress without judging me or trying to baby me. You understand that sometimes I need to be neurotic and moody and a ball of stress. You’re caring and thoughtful and straightforward and I don’t think you give yourself enough credit.”

You can’t be real. Even the holiest of heavens couldn’t craft something as angelic as you, and yet here you are, touching your forehead to his and filling his lungs with your stardust, divine hand caressing his cheek, sephric eyes holding so much unfiltered love he can’t stop himself from kissing you. His lips are tender at first, trying their best to memorize immortality and savoring how ethereal you taste, but when you place your hand on his neck, he feels himself giving into his mortal instincts. Using his body weight to his advantage, he lowers you back down to the mattress, never daring to break the kiss. His hands begin to tug at the shirt clinging to your torso, and you’ve never been quicker to dispose of clothes.

“So beautiful,” he mumbles against your lips, hands grazing across your thighs and squeezing them appreciatively. “You’re so beautiful, darling, do you know that?”

A sudden bashfulness warms your body, and you fight the urge to hide behind your hands. “You make me feel it,” you reply shyly and try to pull his face back down to yours, but he stops you by kissing the tips of your fingers. Pouting, you try to grab his face again, but again, he simply catches your hand and kisses your palm, his eyes resting on yours and full of unadulterated dedication. “C’mere, I wanna kiss.”

“You’ll get plenty of those, love, don’t worry.”

Forever and ever, he silently promises himself, I’m going to kiss you forever. And, keeping his promise like the dutiful man he is, he kisses his way up your arm, every touch of his lips measured and careful, until they gently brush against your cheek. You giggle at his breath tickling your neck, and he swears he feels his heart collapse in on itself like some pathetic parody of a supernova. This right here—you stripped down to your underwear and allowing him to love every inch of your supple skin, him stripped down to the bone and being forced to let go of control–is something he used to fantasize about, something he never ever thought himself worthy of, but when you look up at him with your eyes full of trust and dedication, he can’t stop himself from drinking in every second of it. His lips brush against your neck, right above the jugular so he can feel how your heart rate spikes, and then your collarbone, and then his tongue gently swipes across your nipple, earning a soft gasp from you.

“Simon,” you whine, “no teasing, please.”

His fingers brush against your cheek, lips still attached to your breast, while his other hand snakes down to your cunt. “‘m not teasing, darling, I promise. Just want to show every part of you some love.”

He’s an expert at unraveling you, at lightly grazing his fingers just above where you need him most, at dragging his tongue across your peddled nipple, at nipping and sucking at your breasts until you’re bucking against his hand. Even after all of these past weeks of quickies and fevered shower sex, Simon Riley is nothing short of a master at making you moan out his name. His penchant for precision is often deemed a tedious mindset, something to hold him back from admiring the big picture, but it’s a gift from the heavens above when it has you a writhing mess underneath him. Your juices are coating his hand and his ears are full of your vows of love and lust, but it still isn’t enough for him. He needs all of you, all of your tears, all of your gasps and whines, all of your shaking thighs wrapped around him, needs to feel skin brushing skin and the promise of loving and being loved forever.

Your shaking hands bury themselves in his hair, pulling and tugging at the strands and causing him to groan against your skin. “Simon, f-fuck, you’re so good.”

A moan stutters in his chest at the unexpected praise. He needs to feast on everything that is you until he’s full. Without so much as a warning, he kisses your forehead once more before throwing your legs over his shoulders in one swift movement. You open your mouth to protest that he deserves a little love too, but his lips are already attached to your throbbing clit and all you can do is cry out his name. You can feel another groan reverberate in his chest, his hands kneading at your plush thighs and pulling you closer, closer, closer, until his nose is buried in your pubic hair, and he looks nothing short of a man utterly in love with the person beneath him.

“Simon! Oh my fucking god, Simon!”

He slides a finger inside of your fluttering hole, and then another, curling them and scissoring just the way that has your thighs twitching around his head. Brown eyes roll to the back of his head, and he somehow manages to bury his face even further into your pussy. “Like that, baby? You like it just like that?”

“Yes, Simon, yes, please!”

“Fucking hell, darling, I could stay here forever.” Forever doesn’t seem like a long time as long as you’re by his side…

Simon isn’t sure what he’s more drunk on—the alcohol he indulged in earlier, or the juices dripping from your cunt. He’s intoxicated on submission and domination, lust and love, every saccharine memory with you in the past and every hopeful wish with you in the future, every broken piece of you and every picture he’s painted on your skin. He’s drunk on you. All of your moans and pants and pleas for more, more, more—eat until you’re full, Simon! Completely devour until all that’s left is an illustration of what love is!

He was never an indulgent man until you came into his life and discovered just how large his stomach truly is.

His tongue draws languid circles on your clit as his fingers pump in and out of your cunt, his half-lidded ambers watching the rise and fall of your chest. Once he finds a good rhythm, he brings his free hand up to pinch and roll your nipple between his nimble fingers, and you’re sure this is what heaven must feel like.

Simon Riley is almost certain you’re an angel in disguise, but you’re starting to suspect he’s a god who’s too humble to admit his omnipotence. How else would he know exactly how to curl his fingers just right to get your thighs to shake? How else would he know how much you love when he flattens his tongue and slowly drags it along your clit? How else would he know to kiss your inner thigh as he takes a minute to catch his breath and rest his jaw? He looks up at you with ambers filled to the brim with worship and adoration, but you swear you can see a flicker of greed lingering somewhere in there—obsession disguised as fascination, possession parading as love, anything to keep you by his side.

“Look at you, so wet for me,” he coos up at you, using his fingers to spread your pussy lips and admire the mess between your legs. “Do I make you feel that good, sweetheart? Can’t help but fucking drip for me, hm? So wet for me, baby, so good for me.”

“S-S-Simon!”

“Keep moaning my name, sweetheart,” he groans as he brings his mouth to your cunt again, and it’s becoming increasingly difficult to ignore the tightness of his pants. “Fuck—scream it, I don’t care. Just wanna keep hearing you.”

“Simon fucking Riley, please, you feel s-so good!”

Taunt skin is pulled across knuckles as you grip the bed sheets underneath you. Eyes rolling to the back of your skull, thighs uncontrollably shaking around his head, chest heaving as if you just ran a marathon, sweat clinging to your skin, cunt throbbing rhythmically along with the pumping of your partner’s fingers, you can feel your orgasm swiftly approaching. Simon must be able to tell also, given the way his licks to your clit are becoming more and more frantic and he’s starting to goad you on.

Desperation is laced with fascination as he begs, “Go on, baby, it’s okay. Cum on my fingers. Cum for me, please, let me make you feel good. I know you can, love. Just cum for me.”

As if under his spell, you feel the control you had been trying to grip on to snap and unadulterated pleasure crash over your body, leaving you heaving and twitching underneath his touch. He easily helps you through your high, gentle as he kisses your thighs and slowly eases his fingers out of your throbbing cunt. Crystals poke at the corner of your eyes, causing them to look like stained glass on a sunny day, and Simon is sure to say his prayers as he kisses them away.

“So, so gorgeous,” he whispers between the brushes of his lips. “So pretty when you’re cumming for me. Fuck, love, you’re so beautiful.”

Relishing the praise he’s pouring on your skin, your shaking fingers begin to tug at the shirt clinging to his chest. He tries to stop your ministrations and tell you that predators typically don’t get help from their prey, but you shush him and tell him that not every prey is helpless just like not every predator is invincible. He watches your hands fumble with bemusement, and after a moment of struggling you decide to flip your bodies over so you’re now straddling him.

He’s surprised to say the least, eyes widening and body struggling to regain control, but after a kiss to his forehead and a nip at his ear, he begins to think that having control isn’t what it’s all cracked up to be. Besides, why would he deny himself the perfect view of your body—of your breasts heaving in front of him, your pulse thumping in the hollow of your throat, of your neck exposed and ready to be bitten? Why would he deny himself of the feast before him, coated in sweat and glowing with love?

“Off,” you mumble against his neck and tug at his pants. “Off, please, Simon, take them off.”

Desperation drips from every syllable that falls from your intoxicating mouth, and he’s quick to dispose of the pants that restrict him. Strong fingers cup your jaw and bring your face in front of his, hungry ambers drinking in the sight of adoration and lust. His lips slot against yours, hands grasping at your hips and dragging your cunt across his hard cock, and he swears this is the sweetest form of torture.

“Look at me, sweetheart,” he whispers. “I want you to look at me while you put me inside of you. C’mon, baby, don’t be shy now.”

Your trembling hands find his dick, and you have to stop to admire the masterpiece laying underneath you—a pretty red head beaded with precum, a prominent vein running along the side of his shaft and wrapping until it meets with a tuft of blond pubic hair, stomach muscles contracting with every breath, pink-flushed cheeks on a stern face, a naked chest rising and falling with anticipation. He’s beautiful. He’s everything every artist has tried to capture on blank canvases and fell just short of. He’s ethereally gorgeous but also alarmingly human. He’s an angelic face with blood-stained hands. He’s Simon “Ghost” Riley, and you’ve never been more proud to be able to call him yours.

Bashful eyes meet greedy ones and you’re lowering yourself on his cock before you can begin to ask yourself who’s more vulnerable in this moment—the prey on the pedestal or the predator whose appetite can only be satiated by one person. The swollen tip of his cock rests easily inside of you, and right when you’re about to start rocking your hips, he sits up so your chests are flushed together, much like how you were in the kitchen.

His lips brush against your shoulder, and you’re reminded of how gentle he can be despite the calluses on his palms. “I want you close, baby, please. Need to feel all of you. Every inch, inside and out. Will you let me do that, sweetheart?”

A thick blanket of submission wraps itself around your shoulders, and your head is nodding before you even give it permission to. “Want all of you, Si! Need all of you! Jus’ wan’ you.”

He begins to rock his hip, bones digging into plush flesh, and swears he can see flashes of golden gates with each thrust. “That’s it, baby. Such a good girl—my good girl.”

“S-Simon!”

Watching your breasts bounce as he bucks into you is hypnotizing, and he has to dig his fingers into your thighs to keep himself from bucking into you wildly. No, he refuses to be the beast he keeps buried down. It’s taken years of self-discipline and self-discovery to keep it locked away. He can’t unleash it now during a moment of vulnerability. But there’s something so tantalizing about you, so tempting and delicious that causes his teeth to sharpen and his mouth to flood with drool…

“Roll your hips, darling,” Simon whispers into your neck. “Be my good girl and roll your hips.”

And like the obedient girl you are, you listen, clit brushing against his pelvis and sending delicious waves of pleasure over your body. He thinks he’s dragging you down to hell with him, but you’re certain this is what heaven feels like. The love of your life beneath you, a light blanket of sweat over his body, his brow furrowed in concentration as he tries not to overindulge, his heart slamming against his ribcage in a frenzied attempt to reach you, his hands touching every inch of you they can reach, his lips kissing away the tears that stream down your face… No, this is better than heaven. With his hunger and your curiosity, you’ve both managed to find a place better than the promiseland, better than anything any god or mortal could even begin to hope to comprehend, a place where he’s free to feast on you as much as he wants and you can bury yourself in his ribcage.

Strong fingers slip under your chin and force you to look in a pair of shining ambers, and you swear Simon has never looked more beautiful than in this moment. “Kiss me, sweetheart,” he pleads, his hips stuttering.

Starving lips come crashing together, and it takes every ounce of self-control to not feed until his stomach ruptures.

And the worst part of it all is he knows you would allow him to.

You would absolutely allow him to eat, eat, eat, Simon, sharpen your teeth and bite as hard as you want! You’ll never go hungry as long as you’re with me! Just eat, goddammit, eat, eat, eat! Eat all of me until we aren’t sure where you end and I begin! Eat until I’m swimming in your veins! Just fucking eat!

Simon buries his face into the crook of your neck in hopes that maybe he can get through the night without any bloodshed, struggling to keep himself under control. But you have other plans. Lacing your fingers through his blond hair, you guide his face to one of your breasts in a silent plea for him to suck on it as you ride him. He obeys, of course. How could he not when you look so delicious covered in sweat and bouncing on his cock?

With teeth as sharp as diamonds, he tugs onto your nipple, and you cry out his name until it’s all you can dare to think about. “Fuck, baby,” he swears, one of his hands massaging your other breast, “you’re so beautiful. You know that right, darling? Have I ever told you how beautiful you are as you ride me?”

Your thighs begin to shake, and it’s then you both know you’re at the brink of unadulterated pleasure. Mustering as much strength as you can, you slam your hips down on his in frantic motions, feel the head of his cock prodding at your cervix, and tears poke at the corners of your eyes in anticipation of the feast about to come.

“So close, baby,” your partner moans, “so fucking close. Just a little more, love. Can you do that for me? Can my good girl ride me just a little bit more and make us both cum?”

“Y-Yes! Anything for you, Simon! Jus’ wanna be your good girl…”

Your whines and moans become more and more warbled the closer you get to your orgasm, and Simon is drinking every ounce of your submission. Unable to maintain self-control in the face of greed, sharp teeth pinch your nipple, the swell of your breasts, your shoulder, your neck, your jaw—anywhere he can feed and hear you squeal out in delight, just so long as he eats, eats, eats. Every time enamel pinches plush flesh, he can feel a piece of you slither down his throat and land in his ever-growing stomach—somewhere you’ve learned to consider home. Whispers of praise and love dance across your skin, his hands running up and down your spine as if coaxing you to give him just a little more of yourself, just a bit more so he can sedate the beast and continue to be the practical man you know and love.

“So fucking good for me,” he moans into the crook in your sweaty neck, his cock beginning to throb with the need to release. “That’s my girl, just a little more. I’m so close, love.”

Shaky hands bury themself into thick hair, and you pull until you can hear a hiss leave his lips. “Please, Simon, cum with me, please!”

“My baby wants me to cum with her, hmm?” he teases, albeit weakly. He’s losing control, you both know it. His abs flex with strain, his brow is shining with sweat, and his lips wobble with weakness, and yet he’s fighting to have you cum first just so he can taste how sweet you are on his tongue before he’s no longer human.

“Yes, please! I’m begging you, Simon, cum with me!”

“O-O-Oh, fuck...” Though he’s never been much for blind optimism, a part of him hoped maybe he finally could have control over his desires around you. A foolish thing to think, really, when you call to the beast buried in his ribcage so easily… “I’m gonna cum, darling, cum with me!”

And you do, almost embarrassingly quick. With your arms wrapped around each other, your face buried in his chest and his buried in your hair, your hips clumsily crashing together, you both cum together loudly, lewdly, your names burned into each other’s throats and echoing off of your bedroom walls.

“You did so well for me, baby,” he mumbles against your shoulder, his lips fumbling to kiss everywhere his teeth sunk into. “I love you so much.”

You sigh and lean into his kisses as much as you can, arms still hanging loosely around his neck and your lungs trying to pull in oxygen. “I love you too, sweetheart, so, so much.”

“C’mon, I’ll go prepare a bath for us.” Gently, he untangles your limbs and lifts you in his strong arms. With one last kiss to your forehead, he begins to make his way to the bathroom, you curled up against his chest and listening to how hard his heart is hammering.

And somewhere between the sound of running water and satisfied giggles, Simon swears he hears a growl coming from his chest—low and threatening, a warning he only has so much time before he loses control and he can no longer contain how he feels about you.

And, for the first time since he discovered that wretched beast, he thinks he might be okay with that.

#; ophie writes #simon riley x reader #simon riley x you #simon riley x y/n #ghost x reader #ghost x you #ghost x y/n #simon 'ghost' riley x reader #simon 'ghost' riley x you #simon 'ghost' riley x y/n #simon riley #simon 'ghost' riley

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