#and I make several that are DELICIOUS and can dress them up to make them look really good

[littelovelunette]

vi x virgin reader, they meet at a bar and decide to go home and have sex, but reader doesn’t tell vi she’s a virgin, and gets extremely nervous during the act, so she doesn’t talk to vi and tell her what feels good. reader fakes an orgasm to get out of the situation, but vi can tell, so she asks her what’s wrong, and reader bursts out crying, explaining everything, and vi is so gentle and understanding, they have sex again, and this time there’s more communication and video makes reader feel super comfortable and safe, and afterwards there’s sweet aftercare and they fall asleep together

Fake It

Contains alcohol intoxication, smut, faking orgasm, fingering, first time reader, nipple play, clit play, praising, aftercare

You’re not the loudest in the room, nor the quietest, but something about you draws Vi's attention.

Maybe it’s the way you carry yourself—like you belong here but don’t at the same time.

Or maybe it’s the fact that you just turned down some guy who got too close, brushing him off with an effortless ease that makes Vi’s smirk return.

Curious, she leans forward, pushing off the bar and making her way toward you with the kind of confidence that doesn’t need to be forced.

"You always this good at scaring off idiots, or am I just lucky enough to catch the show tonight?" Vi’s voice is smooth but edged with amusement as she leans a little too close, resting a tattooed arm on the counter beside you.

She smells faintly of whiskey and gunpowder, like trouble wrapped in leather, but there’s something else too—something almost... inviting. Like a challenge you didn’t know you were interested in until now.

you both were all over the place kissing and making out, saliva running down vi's chin as she messily made out with you, grabbing your thigh and wrapping it around her waist, oh that beautiful waist

you moaned a little in the kiss and that was all vi needed to hear. throwing some cash at the bartender to cover both of your tabs, vi dragged you out of the bar and into a small apartment. it was nothing much but enough of to fuck at.

that was the intention anyway.

vi pushed you against the wall, scarred lips finding their way on the sensitive skin of your neck as her expert hands worked onto undo the zipper of your dress, smirking a little once she saw your breasts clad with a black lacy bra, "nice bra, dolly. who you thought you were gonna impress?" vi teased

"hopefully you." you grinned and winked a little making vi chuckle, she unhooked it and let it fall towards the slowly increasing pile of clothes on the ground

her hands found their way around tits as she palmed them, "nice and soft," she whispered and bent down to suck on one of your nipple

"oh shit vi that's good," you whispered letting her suck on your tits as you ran your fingers through her hair lazily, mouth agape and head thrown back

vi bit down on your nipple making you gasp a little, she hooked her fingers around your panties and pulled them down, "oh you're so wet for me..." vi scooped up some of your wetness with a finger and tasted you, smiling at the taste of your arousal

vi gestured you to lay down on the bed and so you did a strange nervousness like never before starting to fill your chest

"you look so beautiful like this," vi licked two fingers before she traced your folds with them "you ready for me doll ?"

"m-mhm," you said with a little uncertainty that didnt go unnoticed but since you had consented vi presumed it was okay to proceed

her slender fingers dipped inside your slit starting to move slowly making you feel several emotions at once and that's when you realised, you had never really been able to make yourself cum and whenever you watched porn before, you've seen the women squirt and cum so easily when sexually stimulated, that made you wonder what if you were the problem.

masking your inner turmoil, you let out a soft moan when vi's thumb found your clit gently rubbing it and pressing it, the pressure sure was delicious but then you wondered why you didn't feel the 'knot in your lower tummy' like you read in eroticas and young adult books

you wrapped your arms around vi and put your head over her shoulder so she wouldn't be able to see your face as her fingers continued their ministrations, "vi it feels so good," you whispered over her shoulder

your words were true of course... but you just didn't know when was the right time to cum or when you're supposed to, you've never ever had an orgasm in your life, you're torn and overwhelmed now- what should you do, you thought but nothing really came to your mind

i think i should just fake it

"vi i think im gonna cum," you whispered and whined as vi's fingers got faster then, her thumb pressing harder against your clit as she drove her fingers deeper making you gasp a little at the intensity

you pretended that you came, body tensing up and all breath hitching and pussy clenching around her digits before you let your limbs fall back down, back flat against the mattress

vi furrowed her eyebrows, "darling." she started and that made your heart drop. she knew.

"i've had a lot of flings and shit in the past, I know a fake orgasm when I see one, better yet cause one," vi said, pulling her fingers out slowly and wiping the love juices off against the sheets hastily

you didnt know what to do and before you could control it tears started to stream down your cheeks alarming vi

"baby, hey, hey hey it's okay i was just saying, I wanna know what's up, hey, cmon talk to me," vi pulled you in for a hug and let you rest your face against her chest

"i just- i guess i watched a lot of porn in my life and it's just that," you sniffled, "they cum and squirt within minutes into the intercourse and whenever I masterbated I never was able to make myself have an orgasm and i dont know why maybe theres something wrong with me!"

"nothings wrong with you," vi said instantly before sighing a little, "hey it's okay, just talk to me and tell me what feels good yeah? we can work this out."

"but ive never had sex before i don't know what feels good because I've never had someone else do it for me it's always been me myself." you said trying to wipe your tears away as you fought to spoke despite your throat feeling closed up

"that's fine this time we'll communicate when I touch you you'll tell me if it feels good and if it doesn't, I'll understand and I'll make you have a real orgasm, got it princess?" vi smiled gently

"m-mhm... im sorry ill try to talk..." you mumbled out and vi nodded, "that's a good girl you're learning."

vi helped you lay back down trailing kisses down all the way around your neck and collarbone, "so beautiful, my love." she sucked a dark purple spot over your collarbone making you cry out in pleasure, grabbing the sheets with both hands.

vi interlaced fingers with yours using her right hand while her left hand trailed down to cup your wet pussy, rubbing the sensitive clit with her knuckle before replacing it with her thumb.

her fingers were opening your folds up again as two fingers dipped right back inside your wet awaiting slit. "o-oh..." you moaned softly as you felt her fingers go knuckles deep inside, "feels good?" vi asked and you nodded after a little bit of contemplating, "it's good..."

"good girl now tell me how this feels," vi said and pressed your clit using her thumb and started rubbing circles over it making your back arch as you instinctively tried to grind against her touch, "t-too good!" you whined out and vi smirked at the sight of you so vulnerable and pleasured

she was feeling a sense of satisfaction by just watching you reacting so responsively to her touch, especially her thumb on your clit.

vi's fingers worked diligently pumping inside you finding the little textured bit and started rubbing there as she added a third finger making you gasp and moan loudly, your thighs begun shaking as she continued her ministrations

her work on your clit was getting faster making you gasp and moan loudly pretty much like those pornstars you had seen and let influence your thoughts and actions prior to your communication with vi

this felt heavenly and you felt a tingly sensation starting to cross your abdomen, no— lower abdomen, making you whine and bite your bottom lip to hold back the scream threatening to lip your now red lips

"cmon, give your first to me all to me," vi whispered seductively in your ears before she bit the side your neck you screamed in pleasure and your juices squirted out of your pussy coating fingers and the sheets beneath, it was a small stream but it still was something

"you did so well darling." vi pulled her fingers back and licked them seductively smirking down at your figure she was clearly proud of herself for taking your first and you were happy it was her.

i had written an elaborate part for the aftercare here but it got error-ed out due to my shitty network connection, im fuming and won't write it again bc im so pissed istg (might edit it in later)

you both cleaned up later and had a shower together eating some dried fruits after and a glass of water. you were on the counter top, wearing a loose shirt of vi's

"mm... im exhausted lovely wanna get in bed?"

"change the sheets first," you demanded and vi laughed a little before she pulled you to the bed so you could help her change the sheets which you did gladly

once the bed was made freshly again, you both got in bed and vi pulled the blankets over her figure and yours, kissing you on the ehad

"goodnight lovely."

"goodnight, baby."

[mrs-hatake]

YANDARE CALEB REQUEST HERE!!

Caleb and Mc walking around Linkin City, but Calbe notices all the eyes on MC and her cute outfit! Even the cashier at the ice cream shop gives her a free ice cream!!

word count: 1.2k

warning: yandere!caleb and mentions of gore.

a/n: y/n is not mc! she is an entirely different entity from mc (i see them as two different people)

Summer comes to Linkon City early this year. 

Just a few weeks ago, the air was filled with a chilly breeze. It was so cold that no one could wear their spring clothes without a coat on top. Then, one morning, the temperature suddenly rises and the flowers are in total bloom, decorating the guardians in a canopy of pinks, lilacs and soft blues. The bees are dancing while the birds are singing their songs and any trace of their chilly spring vanishes.

The weather has been so beautiful the past few days that everyone’s mood elevates with the heat. Jenna, Y/N’s usually strict boss, suddenly announces that she’s giving every hunter in the association an extra day for the weekend, no one has to come to work on Friday. 

Ecstatic by the news, Y/N is quick to text Caleb of the good announcement.

That’s how we find the childhood best friends strolling around the Grand Central Park of Linkon City. Tales of the past on their tongues as they meander through the winding paths of the park, vibrant hydrangeas, reminiscent of Caleb’s eyes, surrounding them.

Y/N’s smile is as radiant as the sun, her lips parted in an ecstatic laugh as Caleb retalls the tale of when he was nine years old and Y/N tricked him into thinking she can eat ten earwax flavored candy simultaneously. Naturally, Caleb hadn’t believed her. But when she shoved several handfuls of those nasty jelly beans, he was equally horrified and awe-struck. 

Think you can beat me? She challenged him. Not one known to back down from a challenge, Caleb opens his tiny hand, heart stuttering in nervousness when those sugary sweets plop into his hand. Little did he know, Y/N had switched out the lemon sorbet flavored jelly beans and handed him ear waxed flavored one. The poor boy gagged for five minutes before Y/N showed him mercy and gave him a refreshing, tall glass of melon soda. To say he was skeptical of the drink was an understatement but it was either Caleb trusted her or suffered the lingering taste of ear wax.

Caleb’s eyes soften as he watches Y/N laugh, sounding like windchimes and hummingbirds. He can never look away whenever he is with Y/N, entranced by her beauty. Even now as she clutches her tummy, tears streaming down her face as she muffles her giggles, butterflies flutter about in his stomach. His fingers itch to reach out and wipe away the stray tears from her cheeks but Caleb glues his hand to his side, tempted to use his Evol to make sure he practices restraint. They are just friends, nothing more, and he can’t just caress her whenever he wants. 

Instead, all that Caleb can do is admire Y/N.

She is all dolled up today, no doubt excited for the extra day off and the gorgeous weather they’re having. 

A flowy pink dress with flower prints sways with the gentle breeze. The cotton fabric stretches along her body nicely, showing off her tantalizing dips and curves. The plunging neckline is a delicious treat for Caleb…too bad he isn’t the only one who shares this thought. 

He was so engrossed with Y/N, he failed to see dozens of pairs of hungry eyes lingering on what is his. Caleb can practically hear their disgusting thoughts whenever the two walk by, lusting over Y/N like some piece of meat. 

He has half a mind to gouge out their ugly eyes and break their dirty fingers that are no doubt desperate to smear their grime across Y/N’s smooth and clean skin. Caleb is fighting a losing battle. 

“Caleb, look!” Saccharine sweetness wraps an arm around Caleb, delicately pulling him out of his dark thoughts.

Turning, Caleb faces Y/N who is staring at him with large doe eyes. 

Ah, he knows that look. 

Y/N wants something that Caleb is probably going to refuse. 

Following where Y/N is pointing at, his gaze lands on an ice cream vendor. They’re only selling two flavors today, honey vanilla and lavender flavored ice cream. But the vendor also sells a serving of half and half, the one Y/N is silently begging for.

“Y/N,” Caleb sighs, “You know you shouldn’t eat dessert before lunch. It will ruin your appetite.”

“Caleb,” Y/N whines. Caleb has always known that his name always sounded so sinful on her lips, “Pleeeeaaassseeee.” 

Let the record show that Caleb did try to persuade her but how can he say no to someone as cute, as adorable, and as beautiful as Y/N?

Caleb is a weak man when it comes to Y/N and he isn’t afraid to admit it.

“Fine.”

“Yaay!” With a blinding smile, Y/N stands on her tiptoes and lands a loud and wet smooch on Caleb’s cheek. “You’re the best!”

Thankfully, Y/N is already running off to the ice cream vendor to notice the vibrant red decorating Caleb’s ears and cheeks. 

God, this woman will be the death of him.

“The total will be 2.99.” The sweet old man says as he gives Y/N two ice cream cones of half honey vanilla and half lavender flavored ice cream.

Y/N tilts her head. Her nose scrunches up adorably as she asks, “Shouldn’t it be 5.50? I ordered two ice cream cones.”

The man’s gentle smile becomes lecherous, making the muscles along Caleb’s sharp jawline clench. 

Seemingly unaware of how Caleb slammed his eyes shut and balled his hands into fists, ready for a fight, the old man continues to stare shamelessly at Y/N’s cleavage. Eyes old with age drinking up the sweat glistening on the curves of her tits. 

Y/N chuckles awkwardly, “Thanks.” Hands Caleb his ice cream, grabs his arms and yanks him far away from the vendor.

“What a creep.” Y/N shudders at the encounter. 

“Caleb, your ice cream’s melting!” She screeches once she spots the cool cream dripping down Caleb’s thick wrist.

Like a balloon popping, Caleb snaps back to his surroundings. He hurries to lick away the stray streams of melted ice cream but he chokes when the liquid glides down his parched throat, it tastes like ash on his tongue. 

“L-let’s go back.” the words come out in a shaky exhale and they make Y/N face him with concern written all over her face.

Caleb is instantly drowning in a bottomless ocean of guilt for ruining Y/N’s day off but if they don’t return home and if Caleb doesn’t hide Y/N from the dangerous world, he’s afraid he’ll do something that Y/N will never forgive him for. 

Guilt hangs heavily around Caleb like an oppressive fog, anchoring him to the earth as if he were a ship caught in a relentless storm. His breath grows thin and ragged, tongue thick and unyielding as he speaks of a lie that feeds his selfishness and greed. 

Possession is a dangerous thing and it has long since ruined Caleb.

Yet, in an instant, the guilt morphs into conviction. Caleb reminds himself that he is doing this for Y/N's sake.

If a small, white lie will protect her from those hungry beasts lurking nearby, then Caleb will sing endless songs to Y/N, deceit underlying his lyrics. 

All for Y/N’s safety.

[motorsportbarbie13]

A Package Deal - Part 4

In which the real world threatens to ruin your happiness.

Warnings: angsttttttttt :) fluff at the end tho!! Pairing: Lando x SingleMom!Reader Word Count: 3.6k words

- A Package Deal - A Package Deal - Part 2 - A Package Deal - Part 3 - Master List

yourusername (private) posted:

yourusername life lately ❤️ BFFSarah omg, someone who loves pizza just as much as Stelly Belly??? >>>yourusername they polished off a large pizza between the two of them. It was a sight to see. >>>land-ho WE WERE HUNGRY. >>>yourusername you bet my six year old she couldn't eat 4 pieces of pizza, sir. >>>land-ho AND SHE PUT DOWN FIVE! Proudest moment of my LIFE. >>>yourusername 🙄

land-ho (private) posted

land-ho party of three? smoooooth_operator it was good to see you two last night! >>>yourusername dinner was delicious, C!! tell R thank you for all the shopping reccos in Barcelona 🤭 >>>landonorris oh god, my wallet already hurts >>>yourusername well now i'm never going to beat the sugar baby allegations. >>>honeybadger y'all are a walking PR nightmare waiting to happen. kelly_pickme i must meet your two favorite girls soon! bring them to Monaco soon! >>>yourusername 😘 did L give M the lion plushie and princess dress for baby and P? can't wait to meet you all soon!! >>>kelly_pickme yes! P hasn't taken it off and the lion is a hit as well. >>>yourusername ❤️❤️❤️

Miami May, 2025

"Okay, anything else you guys want to talk about before we start filming?" Victor, the team's head of communications, asks on Thursday afternoon.

Victor sits in one of the several conference rooms located in McLaren's hospitality suite surrounded by the rest of the communications team as well as Lando and Oscar. The weekend debrief is wrapping up as he asks one last question.

"Actually, kind of." Lando clears his throat, rubbing his palms on his jeans.

The entire team turns to him then and he feels his face go a bit red. He hadn't really planned on making a big deal of this in front of the team but after his meeting with Zak earlier, he thought he should at least let the comms team in on what he was going to do tonight.

"What's up?" Victor prompts, tucking his iPad under his arm.

"Well, it's more of a 'heads up' kind of thing but Zak thought I should let you guys know that I'm planning on going public with my girlfriend tonight."

Out of the corner of his eye, Lando sees Oscar smirk. He can almost hear the 'well it's about time' teasing he's about to get when they wrap up this meeting.

Victor blinks, casting a sideways glance at Melanie, Lando's main press officer for the weekend. He could tell Victor was reluctant to agree but in all honesty, this wasn't his call and Lando was ready to make that known. "What were you planning on doing?"

Melanie pulls out a notepad to take notes, just in case she's asked about the relationship this weekend.

You were also in Miami this weekend for your second race of the season and the subject had come up last night as you were cuddled up in bed after Lando had posted about you and Stella on his private account for the first time. You had been hesitant at first, not wanting to bring the team or Lando any drama during the race weekend but he had been insistent. While you hadn't been together officially for very long, you spent nearly every spare moment together and Stella had become a huge part of Lando's life too. He was tired of being linked to endless Instagram models and having to hide you away from the public.

Lando shrugs. "Nothing big or anything, just a post of my feed with her, some kind of witty caption."

"She's the one who works in the accounting department?" Melanie asks.

Lando can't help but glare at the woman. She's in her mid-30s with mousey brown hair and wire rimmed glasses. Melanie was kind enough but sometimes Lando wondered if she had any of the media training that was forced on him and Oscar with the kinds of questions she asked him.

"No, she's on the product development team, and she's right over there." Lando tips his chin towards the large glass windows that looks out onto the rest of the hospitality suite where you sit at one of the tables typing away at your laptop.

"Isn't she a single mom?"

Again, Lando glares at Melanie as the rest of the team shifts uncomfortably in their seat. Sure, it was their job to handle any press inquiries that came into the office and sometimes there were personal questions that got asked, but that one was toeing the line of appropriate.

"I don't see why that makes any sort of difference." Oscar surprises everyone by speaking up, his tone a bit colder than usual. "I've worked with her a lot lately, she's a lovely person and wicked smart. Lando's a lucky guy."

"Thanks, mate." Lando murmurs before turning back to Victor. "HR is aware of our relationship and, not that it should matter," Lando looks pointedly at Melanie once again, and is pleased to see her look a bit sheepish as if she's just realized how inappropriate her questions had been. "But Zak is also aware that we're together and has given us his blessing too."

That had been an awkward conversation but Lando admired the McLaren CEO too much to leave him in the dark about something that involved his two employees. He'd scoured the McLaren employee handbook (thankfully there was nothing in it against fraternization of employees, so HR hadn't been a problem either) before approaching Zak first to tell him about the relationship. If there was anyone that Zak Brown loved more than Lando, it was you so of course he had been ecstatic at the news and had immediately given the relationship his full support.

Without waiting for further comment from anyone, Lando gets up and strides out the door, furious at how the ending of the meeting had gone. There were far more problematic WAGs in the paddock and you were a McLaren employee after all, shouldn't you expect the same support from the team as he did? He didn't really understand why it was such a big deal that you were a single mom or technically a coworker.

From your spot in the middle of the hospitality suite you can see when Lando walks out of the conference room, hyper aware of the way his shoulders are hitched up towards his ears, something that only happens when he's upset or stressed.

"Momma!" Your attention is drawn back to your phone where Stella sits on FaceTime before her bath for the evening. You'd been distracted by Lando's sudden shift in mood and had stopped listening to her mid-story.

"Sorry, baby. I'm listening. You and Cora had a good playdate today, yeah?"

Stella prattles on, seemingly satisfied with the half-attention you're now paying her again. But your focus is pulled elsewhere for a moment as you watch a girl you know is on the comms team follow Lando out of the conference room and into his drivers room. You couldn't remember her name but knew that she was working with Lando this weekend as his press officer so it didn't impress you as unusual that she was following him. Maybe something had been said in the meeting and she was going to try to calm him down.

"Momma, can I talk to Lando now?" Stella sighs and you grin. You were beginning to think that your daughter loved Lando a bit more than you the way she constantly asked about him and wanted to see him.

"I think he just walked into a meeting, S but how about we do this. Why don't you go take a bath and by the time you're done, Lando should be finished with his meeting and you can talk to him then."

Stella nods, seemingly happy about the arrangement. You say a quick goodbye before packing up your laptop to go check in on Lando. You were essentially done for the day so you had planned on hanging out with a few of the engineers during their meetings this afternoon before going to dinner with Lando later that night. And then you fully planned on spending the rest of the evening underneath your boyfriend.

You can see the door to Lando's driver's room ajar and you can hear raised voices floating out. Hesitating, you pause with your hand on the door handle. The conversation sounded heated and you didn't want to interrupt. You swear you didn't want to eavesdrop but Lando's shouting didn't leave you much choice.

"What the fuck do you mean the team doesn't want a 'Kelly Piquet 2.0 situation?"

Oh. Oh dear.

You had known Lando was going to tell the team of his plan to hard launch you on his socials tonight and by the sounds of it, it hadn't gone well.

"Lando," The woman, you think her name is Melanie or something, tries to sooth him. "All we're saying is maybe you should think of how this could impact her daughter. When Max and Kelly went public, it was a shit show."

"Yeah, because her father is a racist piece of shit." He spits.

"And she was accused of being a predator!" Melanie fires back. "All I'm saying is that maybe right now isn't the best time to launch a potentially controversial girlfriend."

Your blood goes cold. Controversial? There was nothing in your past that you were ashamed about. No racist relatives. No sex tape scandals or even potentially embarassing photos somewhere out on the internet. You had, all things considered, a pretty wholesome reputation. Everyone at McLaren loved you, as far as you were aware. With the apparent exception of Melanie.

"Controversial? Please, elaborate." Lando's voice goes deadly calm, as if he knows exactly what she's going to say but wants her to say it out loud.

"Lando." Melanie sighs and you take a step back, unsure if you want to hear what she has to say. "She's a young, single mom who got knocked up at nineteen years old." Melanie practically laughs, as if Lando is a complete idiot for not understanding. "There's no way she won't be seen as a gold digger or worse! She's going to be eaten alive on socials. I'm only looking out for her daughter's reputation. Don't be so naive, Norris."

Your fists clench up so tightly, the bite of your nails in your palms pulls you out of a near rage. It takes every ounce of control not to go straight into Lando's room and give that bitch a piece of your mind.

On the other side of the door, Lando swears he sees red and has to take a step away. "This is about your workload, isn't it? You don't want to deal with the awkward questions and the drama? Listen very closely to me, Melanie okay? Because I'm not going to repeat myself." The venom in Lando's voice startles you. "The three of us are a package deal now, do you understand? I am madly in love with that woman out there and her little girl? Her little girl is the center of my world too. I don't give a flying fuck if me being with her means more work for you, that's too fucking bad. If you can't handle it, I'm positive Zak will be happy to replace you. She's here to stay, you are replaceable. Understood?"

Hearing Lando say he loves you and Stella has your world tilting underneath your feet. He'd never said that to you before even though you'd been confident for a while now that he did feel that way. And that you felt the same way.

Melanie's reply is so soft, you don't hear it but moments later, the door flies open so fast you're forced to jump back bit. Melanie's flushed face looks horrified when she sees you standing in the hall. She can't hold eye contact with you for longer than a flicker of a moment before she's dashing down the hall.

Lando stands in the doorway looking horrified that you're standing there. "How much of that did you hear?"

Tears burn at the back of your eyes, your anger at Melanie now replaced with sheer embarrassment. Even if she had been the one to voice it, you were certain Melanie wasn't the only one who was thinking the same thing.

"Everything." You whisper as you look away, brushing at a tear that rolls hotly down your face.

"Goddamnit." Lando swears, shoving a hand through his curls. He hadn't even noticed his door was open after Melanie had followed after him. "Baby..." He reaches for you and you let him pull you to him, his steady warmth a comforting feeling as the panic rises in your chest.

"She's right, you know." You whisper into his chest so softly Lando nearly misses it.

Lando pulls back and the look of desperation on his face nearly breaks your heart. "What are you talking about?"

"The hate we're going to get. I'm going to get. She had a point, you have to admit. I'm a young, single mom dating a millionaire? People are going to think all I'm interested in is your money, just like they did with Kelly."

"Who cares what people think? Who cares what they say about us? The people in our lives that really matter know that's not why you're with me. Isn't that all that matters?"

"Until they start in on Stella. Have you seen some of the things they say about P?"

You were pretty confident you could handle any hate that you got but you knew that the moment you saw any hate towards your little girl, you'd be devastated. It had been something you'd been thinking about since Lando had brought up going public last night but you had been able to brush it aside. It hadn't seemed possible, the worry seeming far away and a little over dramatic but now? Now Melanie's words had anxiety twisting in your stomach.

"That's not going to happen." Lando pulls you deeper into his chest and nuzzles into your neck. He can practically feel you pulling away from him and terror shoots through him.

"You don't know that. Even if it doesn't, do you really want to spend the rest of this relationship constantly defending me? Defending us? That's no way to live, Lando. Melanie was right. I'm controversial and maybe we need to rethink this."

Lando's entire world stops spinning, his breath catching in his throat. "Wh...What? No, baby, no. Please don't do this. Don't pull away. Melanie is being hysterical. Nothing like that is going to happen."

If he had to get on his knees and beg you not to leave him, Lando would do it in a heartbeat.

"I'm not doing anything, I just need a minute to think okay?" You step out of his grasp, instantly missing his touch. You can't even look him in the eye, knowing that if you do you'll crumble. But you can't think of Lando or even yourself right now. "I have to consider what's best for Stella, okay?"

"Don't do this." Lando begs.

"I think I'm going to stay in my own room tonight." You whisper, voice straining with emotion as you barely contain the heartache in your tone.

"Is this the end?" Lando chokes out as he shoves his hands deep in his pockets. He's sure you'd step away if he tried to touch you right now and he knew he wouldn't be able to handle that kind of rejection from you. It felt like his entire world was crumbling around him and the only thing that could right this was you.

Tears stream down your face as you struggle for an answer. "No." You tell him after a moment and the relief that floods Lando's face nearly breaks your heart. "I just need some space to think is all, I promise."

"Can we still have dinner tonight?"

"I think it'd be best if I just spend the evening alone." It hurts, saying those words because you rarely get this much alone time with Lando but you need space so badly your skin begins to itch. You're desperate to get some distance from the paddock and the team and even Lando himself, to right yourself back to the proper head space. You had to consider Stella above your own heart.

If it was possible to die from a broken heart, Lando knew he was about to find out. He lets you go though, watching miserably from the spot he's rooted to on his floor as you back away slowly, almost like you're retreating from a dangerous animal or something.

"I'll talk to you tomorrow, okay?"

All he can do is nod as he watches you walk out the door for what he hopes isn't the last time.

You're just finishing the last bits of your makeup when there's a knock on your door Friday morning. You were a bit surprised because you knew full well that Lando had a key but the fact that he was nervous to use it after what had happened yesterday tugs at something in your chest.

You had been in the shower when he texted you that morning and the string of texts nearly broke your heart. You hadn't wanted to put him through that kind of pain but you had needed to take a moment to think through what had happened with Melanie and the comms team yesterday.

Slipping the robe Lando had gotten you in Japan a few weeks ago, you pad towards the door to open it. You're stopped completely in your tracks when you swing it open and get a glimpse of Lando in the hallway. He looks absolutely ravaged, like he didn't sleep a single second the night before, eyes red rimmed and puffy.

"Lan..." You whisper, tears instantly flooding your eyes. You reach for him, utterly perplexed suddenly as to why you had felt you needed distance from him.

When he folds you into his arms, the damn finally breaks and you sob into him, the entire previous day's emotions coming to a head. The way you finally feel complete when he's got you in his arms is unlike anything you've ever felt and for a brief moment yesterday, you had forgotten that fact.

When he kisses you, cradling your head in his hands, everything else quiets. The doubts, the fear, the anxiety. It all fades into the background with his lips on yours and you sigh into his mouth. For the first time on 24 hours you feel relieved, like you can actually tackle this issue instead of feeling like you're going to drown in your own thoughts.

Lando tugs you over to the bed, pulling you into his lap as he sits against the headboard. You tuck into his body as close as you can, head folded into that space between his neck and shoulder, drinking in the smell of him: fresh from the shower and slightly spicy from his cologne.

For several minutes, you both just sit there. Lando struggles to contain the relief that is flooding his body. He'd been absolutely miserable last night, eventually working himself into a panic attack at the thought of losing you and Stella. There was such a gaping hole in his soul when he thought about the prospect of you walking away, it scared him to death. He had never planned on falling for you, had resisted it for a bit, trying to convince himself that it was too quick to be feeling the way he did. Last night though? Last night had showed him he was further gone than he had ever expected.

"Did you mean what you said to Melanie yesterday?" You mumble into his neck after a few moments.

"Every word." Lando says without a moment of hesitation. "But is there a specific part you want me to confirm?"

You chuckle, pulling away so you can look him in the face. "The part where you said we're a package deal? That you love love us both?"

Lando brings his hands up to face your frame and you can't help but lean into him. "Of course I meant it. I'd do anything for either of you. I thought we'd established that, baby."

You drop your gaze from his then, somewhat knocked off center by the intensity of his gaze. "I'm sorry I got spooked. I'm just so used to doing this all on my own, no one ever wants to stay."

"Do you remember what I told you the first night we spent together in Bahrain?"

You blink, a small smile playing on your lips for the first time that morning. "You said a lot that night."

Lando rolls his eyes and kisses your temple. "It was after you had fallen asleep and I got up to get a drink of water. When I came back to bed, you curled right into me and said you thought I'd left you. You asked me to never leave you and and I told you I'd never leave you. I didn't mean it for just that night though."

Your heart thunders in your chest. You didn't remember that at all but the fact that he had said those words to you all those months ago. He'd been as far gone for you back then as you had.

"I love you more than words can say." He whispers and all you can do is nod back, emotion choking out your ability to speak for a few moments.

Lando reaches under your chin after a beat, lifting your face so he can see you. "Nobody said this was going to be easy but if we do this together, it'll be okay. You've got to trust me on this, baby. The team is fully supportive, I swear to you. Zak, Andrea, Oscar. Everyone that matters is on our side. I know you're scared and you want to protect Stella but you can't give up on our happiness because of some stupid people on the internet that don't matter."

Pain shoots through you, bright and quick as a lightning bolt as realization hits you like a ton of bricks. Something becomes crystal clear in that moment and you find yourself nodding.

"You're right. I know you are. I want Stella to see me choose myself instead of sacrificing my happiness for some stupid what ifs." It isn't until Lando says what he does that you're able to finally put into words what you've slowly been coming to realize over the last few hours. You'd been scared to admit it, scared that choosing yourself in this meant you were putting Stella second but when Lando tells you that you can't give up your own happiness to protect her, everything clicks into place.

"I want her to know that she can do hard things and choose her own path and if i listen to Melanie all I show her is that the bullies win."

"That's my girl." Lando praises, pulling you into another soul shattering kiss. "I love you." He whispers against your lips.

"Lan..." You pull away suddenly, eyes going wide. "The reason I was outside your driver's room yesterday was because Stella demanded to talk to you before bed and then..." You drop the sentence, the memory of yesterday slicing through you once again. "Do we have time to call her now? She was so mad at me last night when I said you were too busy to talk."

"Don't you ever tell my Stelly Belly I'm too busy to talk to her again." He teases before grabbing his phone. "Is she with Sarah today? They had a half day, didn't they. She was all about going to the cinema with Sarah today last time I talked to her."

The smile that settles on your face is nothing short of brilliant. For the first time in nearly 24 hours, you finally feel settled, like everything had righted itself after being so very briefly run off course. "Lets see if she can talk now before the get to the show."

landonorris posted

789,039 likes liked by yourusername, oscarpiastri, BFFSarah, and others landonorris did someone say 'hard launch'? user029 oh she's PRETTY PRETTY yourusername <3 >>>user029 ugh, profile's private but SHE HAS A CHILD??? >>>user2992 if this means we're going to get dad lando content the same yaer we get dad max content, the internet may not survive BFFSarah can i like this more than once!?! <3 user0299 OMG WAIT I saw her in the background of tv shots this weekend except she was in a McLaren team kit. LANDO NOT DATING AN INFLUENCER??? >>>user3422 didn't know he had it in him >>>user000 god, i am such a sucker for a workplace romance trope

Tag List: @shelbyteller @formulaal @martygraciesversion381 @longhairkoo @samantha-chicago @stelena-klayley @dark-night-sky-99 @luckylampzonkland @chlmtfilms @aykxz98 @forensicheart @cheer-bear-go-vroom @lieutenantchaos @willowsnook @linnygirl09 @meglouise00 @mixedstyles @secret-agents-stole-my-bunnies @mrosales16 @charlesgirl16 @leclercdream @daemyratwst @dramaticpiratellamas @mochimommy2002 @llando4norris @chelseyyouraverageluigi @iamaunknownsecret @maxivstappen @imlonelydontsendhelp @nina-or-anna-or-nora @a1leexxa @littlegrapejuice @sunflowervol18 @freyathehuntress @finn-dot-com @swiftie-4-lifes-stuff @chirasama @lauralarsen @dr3wstarkey @ilovechickenwings @guaaafiiburg @mcmuppet @mindless-rock @piastri-fvx @glitteryturtledeer

[aeralux]

"Anytime, anywhere" - Aemond Targaryen

Summary: It's never a good idea to anger the Prince of the Real, yet that's exactly what you did. And now you must face the consequences...

Warnings: 18+; smut; public sex acts (exhibitionsim); blowjob; degrading names (slut, whore); pet names (dove etc); feeling of shame/humiliation; typical targcest; targaryen!reader

Words: 4.4k (omfg what is wroNG WITH ME)

Notes: Reader is female but no other descriptive language is used. Implied that Reader is Daemon's daughter.

-- aera xx

Provoking Aemond was always a risky endeavour. His temper was notorious, and the consequences of angering him could be severe. Those who dared to cross him often faced fierce and relentless wrath, leaving them to regret their choices. So you couldn't quite understand why you made that decision this morning.

You woke slowly, your bare skin tingling with the memory of Aemond's touch. Bruises bloomed across your flesh, the aftermath of last night. As you stretched, a dull ache throbbed between your thighs, a sweet reminder of the prince's possession.

You sighed softly, a whimper escaping your lips. Aemond had council today. That much you knew. His mood was sure to be foul. You didn't dare disturb him, simply laying your head on his chest, your fingers tracing idle patterns across his toned torso.

The silence stretched between us, heavy with unspoken desire. You knew you should rise, dress, and attend to your duties as a court lady and a princess. But here, in the sanctuary of Aemond's bed, you were his, a fact that filled you with deep, primal satisfaction.

Aemond stirred from his slumber, the feel of your soft, naked body pressed against his own bringing a smile to his lips. His eye fluttered open, taking in the sight of you sprawled across his chest, your fingers tracing languid patterns along his skin.

He reached up, his hand cupping your cheek as he pulled you close for a lingering kiss. "Good morning, my dove," he murmured, his voice still rough with sleep. "How did you sleep?"

You hummed contentedly, nuzzling into his neck as you savoured the warmth of his embrace. "Good," you replied, your voice muffled against his skin. "Though I may be a bit sore."

Aemond's smile turned wicked, a glint of mischief in his eye as he recalled the roughness of your lovemaking from the night before. "I can think of a way to soothe those aches," he teased, his hand sliding down your back to cup the curve of your ass.

You giggled, as you rolled off him and onto the bed beside him. "As tempting as that offer is, I fear we must resist. You have council duties to attend to, after all."

Aemond groaned in mock frustration, his head falling back against the pillows as he stared up at the ceiling. "Must we?" he groaned, though there was no real regret in his tone. "Very well, I suppose duty calls. But tonight…"

He rolled towards you, his hand sliding up your thigh, his touch igniting sparks beneath your skin. "Tonight, you are mine again. And I intend to take my time with you until you are screaming my name in ecstasy and every man in Westeros knows who’s pretty little slut you are.”

A sinister plan began to form in your mind as Aemond spoke of his duties and his plan for later. You tried to hide your devious smirk, not wanting him to suspect what you had in store.

"I suppose I could make you feel good right now… I'll be quick, my prince," you purred, trailing kisses down his chiselled abs towards his manhood.

You knew the guards would soon come calling, requesting Aemond's presence in the council chambers. Your plan was simple yet deliciously cruel - to bring him right to the very edge of pleasure, his cock throbbing and aching for release, only to leave him high and dry.

With a wicked gleam in your eye, you wrapped your lips around him, determined to give your prince a taste of his own medicine.

Aemond's breath caught in his throat as your lips wrapped around him, your tongue swirling skillfully around his length. His hand fisted in your hair, his fingers tugging gently as he guided your movements.

The sensation was exquisite, the heat of your mouth, the wetness of your tongue, the suction of your lips - it was almost enough to make him forget about his duties, to lose himself entirely in the pleasure you were giving him.

"Fuck," he groaned, his head falling back against the pillows as he surrendered to the sensations. "You wicked, wicked thing. If you keep this up, I'll never make it to the council."

You merely hummed in response, your movements becoming more frenzied, more urgent. You could feel him growing harder, could taste the saltiness of his arousal on your tongue.

You bobbed your head faster, your hand wrapping around the base of his shaft as you took him deeper into your throat with each movement. Aemond's hips bucked, his breath coming in short gasps. Your saliva dripped and ran down his shaft, coating his length in your spit.

You pushed yourself to relax your throat, allowing him to thrust deeper. When he hit the back of your throat, you felt your eyes roll back in pleasure. The heavy weight of his cock feels amazing on your tongue.

You held him there for a moment, relishing how he stretched and filled your mouth. As you pulled back to breathe, you let out a loud, wanton moan, making sure Aemond could hear how much you loved pleasuring him.

Drool spilt down your chin as you went back to work, bobbing your head up and down his cock. You took him as deep as you could each time, letting him slide into your throat again and again. Your arousal dampened your thighs, already dripping onto the sheets below, but all you cared about at that moment was worshipping Aemond's cock with your mouth and throat.

Aemond's harsh groans filled the chamber, his hips thrusting upwards as he lost himself in the decadent pleasure of your mouth. Your lips and tongue worked magic on his hardened length, bringing him closer and closer to the brink of ecstasy with each bob of your head.

"Fuck," he growled, his grip tightening in your hair. "That's it… Use that pretty mouth of yours. Make me come."

You moaned around him, the sound sending shivers down his spine. You could feel him pulsing against your tongue, could taste his salty arousal.

Suddenly, there was a sharp knock at the door, startling you both. "Prince Aemond!" came a stern voice. "The king commands your presence in the council chambers. Immediately!"

Aemond cursed under his breath, his frustration clear. He was so close, so tantalizingly close to release. But duty called, as it always did.

You released him with a lewd pop, your lips and chin glistening with saliva and his precum. A wicked grin spread across your face as you gazed up at him, your eyes gleaming.

Suddenly, realization dawned on him, a flash of anger flickering in his eye. Without warning, his hand shot out, gripping your hair tightly as he yanked your head back.

At that moment, you knew you had pushed Aemond to the limits of his control. And you couldn't wait to see what punishment he had in store for you.

Aemond's chest heaved with pent-up frustration, his teeth clenched as he fought to maintain his composure. The interruption had come at the worst possible moment, leaving him painfully aroused and desperate for release.

With a low growl, he released his grip on your hair, his hand moving instead to wrap around your throat. "You wicked whore," he rasped, his voice rough with desire. "You'll pay for this. I'll make sure of it."

Your eyes widened, a thrill of fear and anticipation coursing through you at his words. You knew you had crossed a line, and knew that your actions would have consequences.

But even as your pulse raced beneath his fingers, you couldn't bring yourself to regret it. The fire in Aemond's eye, the raw hunger in his gaze - it set your blood ablaze with a need that only he could satisfy.

Aemond's grip on your throat tightens, sending shivers down your spine. You're equal parts terrified and thrilled by the promise of punishment in his voice. A moan threatens to escape your lips as your core clenches around nothing with need. You know you should feel ashamed, but you can't bring yourself to regret your actions.

The way Aemond looks at you, the hunger in his eyes - it ignites a fire within you that you can't control. You crave his dominance, his rough treatment. At this moment, you know you would do anything he asks of you.

Aemond's grip loosened, his hand trailing down your neck, over your collarbone, and down to your breasts. He squeezed roughly, eliciting a gasp from your lips.

"You want it rough, do you?" he growled, his thumb brushing over your nipple. "Want me to use you like the filthy little slut you are?"

You nodded frantically, your hips arching up into his touch. "Yes, my prince," you breathed, your voice trembling with need. "Please… Punish me. Claim me. Make me yours."

Aemond's lips curled into a sinister smile, his hand moving lower, over your stomach, hips, thighs. He parted your legs, his fingers brushing over your slick folds.

"Such a needy little thing," he purred, his finger circling your clit. "So desperate for my cock. But you don't deserve it. Not yet."

With a final teasing stroke, he withdrew his hand, ignoring your whimper of protest. He rose from the bed, his naked body glorious in the morning light.

"Get dressed," he commanded, his voice brooking no argument. "And be quick about it. You’re coming to council."

With that, he turned and strode towards the bathing chamber, leaving you alone on the bed, your body aching with unfulfilled desire.

You looked at him dumbfounded, your lips parted in utter confusion. “Wh-what?” you asked him, unsure if you misheard him.

Aemond paused at the threshold of the bathing chamber, glancing over his shoulder at you with a wicked grin. "Did you think I would let you off so easily?" he asked, his voice low and teasing. "Oh no, my sweet dove. You'll come to council with me, where you'll sit at my feet like the obedient pet you are. And when I'm done with my duties, I'll take you back to my chambers and fuck you senseless. Again and again, until you can't walk straight."

You shifted on the bed, heat pooling between your thighs at his bold promise. The thought of sitting at Aemond's feet, his gaze on you as he discussed matters of state, his touch a constant reminder of what was to come.

"Yes, my prince," you whispered, rising from the bed on shaky legs. "I'll do whatever you command."

Your hands trembled as you rushed to dress, the anticipation of what lay ahead both terrifying and extremely arousing. Aemond's words echoed in my mind, his promise of punishment and pleasure sending shivers down my spine.

Aemond stood by the chamber door, his posture commanding as he waited. The sight of you flushed and trembling, only fueled his desire. He reached out, his fingers grazing her cheek, tilting her face up to meet his gaze.

"Remember," he murmured, his voice low and intense. "You belong to me now. Every inch of you, every thought, every desire. If anyone looks at you or touches you, they'll have to answer to me. Understood?"

You shivered at his possessive words, a flush spreading across your cheeks. "Yes, my prince," you breathed, eyes locked on his. "I'm yours, completely."

Aemond's lips curved into a satisfied smirk. He threaded his fingers through your hair, tugging gently to expose your neck. Leaning in, he placed a searing kiss on the sensitive skin, marking you as his own.

"Then come," he commanded, releasing you and turning towards the door. "Let's go, my little slut. And when we return, I'll show you just how thoroughly I plan to claim you. But you’ll have to make it up to me first.”

Your breath hitched as you realised the implications of his words, eyes trembling with shame.

Aemond's laughter echoed through the chambers, a dark and foreboding sound that sent shivers down your spine. He revelled in the power he held over you, in the way your body trembled at his touch, your eyes wide with a mix of fear and desire.

"Oh, I'll enjoy making you make it up to me," he purred, his hand trailing down your back, stopping just above the curve of your ass. "I'll have you crawling on your knees, begging for my cock. I'll fuck you in front of the entire court, make you scream my name so everyone knows who you belong to."

Selaesa whimpered, your core clenching at the thought. You knew it was wrong, knew that you should be ashamed of your desires. But in that moment, all you could think of was the promise of Aemond's touch, the burning need to submit to his every whim.

"Yes, my prince," you breathed, your voice trembling with need. "I'll do anything, be anything you want me to be. Your slut, your whore, your toy. Just please… Don't stop touching me."

Aemond grinned, his hand squeezing your ass roughly. "Such a good girl," he praised, his voice dripping with condescension. "Now come, let's not keep the council waiting. They'll learn soon enough who owns you, body and soul."

With a final possessive squeeze, he released her and strode towards the door, expecting you to follow. You hurried after him, your heart pounding in your chest, your core aching with unfulfilled desire.

As you made your way to the council, Aemond sat down at one end of the long table. "Kneel," came his command, leaving no room for questions.

Aemond's eyes gleamed with amusement as he caught your pleading gaze. He drank in the desperate longing in your expression. With a slow, deliberate motion, he reached out and cupped your cheek, his thumb brushing over your lower lip.

"Patience, my sweet," he murmured, his voice low and husky. You leaned into his hand, your eyes fluttering closed as you savoured his warmth. You nipped lightly at his thumb, your tongue darting out to wet your lips.

"Please, my prince," you breathed, your voice thick with need. "Just a taste."

Aemond's grip tightened, his fingers tangling in your hair. He pulled you closer, his lips hovering mere inches from yours.

"Careful what you wish for, little slut," he growled, his breath hot against your skin. "I may just decide to bend you over the council table and fuck you in front of everyone. Is that what you want? To be claimed as my whore in front of the entire realm?"

Your eyes widened at his words, a fresh wave of desire coursing through you. You knew it was madness, knew that you should be horrified by the thought. But at that moment, all you could think of was the burning need to be taken, to be possessed entirely by Aemond.

"Yes," you whispered, your voice trembling with want. "I want it. I want everyone to know that I'm yours and that no one else can touch me. I want you to claim me, ruin me, make me yours forever."

Aemond's eyes darkened with lust, his grip tightening in your hair. But just as quickly, he released you, leaning back with a wicked grin.

"Later," he promised, his voice dripping with promise.

You quietly crawled between his legs as Aegon was speaking and began to slowly rub Aemonds thighs. Your touch was feather-light, sending shivers down his spine.

Aemond's breath hitched as he felt your delicate touch on his thighs, your fingers tracing slow, teasing patterns on his skin. He fought to maintain his composure, his gaze fixed on Aegon as the king droned on about matters of state. But his mind was elsewhere, focused solely on the sensation of your hands on him.

He shifted slightly in his seat, his leg parting slightly to give you better access. You took the invitation, your hands sliding higher, your nails scraping lightly over the fabric of his trousers. Aemond bit back a groan, his cock stirring to life beneath his clothes.

As Aegon continued his speech, Aemond's hand moved from the armrest to your head, his fingers tangling in your hair. He applied gentle pressure, guiding your mouth towards his growing erection. You obeyed without hesitation, your lips brushing over the hardening bulge.

Aemond's grip tightened, his eyes never leaving Aegon's face as he fought to keep his expression neutral. Your tongue darted out, tracing the outline of his cock through the fabric, your warm breath seeping through the material.

Around you, the council members continued their discussion, blissfully unaware of the depravity happening mere feet away. Aemond revelled in the taboo nature of the act, in the power of taking what he wanted, when he wanted it.

As you knelt at Aemond's feet, you couldn't resist the urge to worship his cock through the fabric of his trousers. Breathing in his intoxicating scent, you pressed open-mouthed kisses along his shaft, your saliva dampening the cloth. Lost in your desire, you nuzzled your cheek against his hardness like a common whore, a needy whine escaping your throat. Your hips rocked instinctively, grinding your aching core against the pointed toe of his leather boot as you surrendered to the all-consuming hunger only he could satisfy.

Aemond gritted his teeth, fighting back a groan as your hot breath seeped through the fabric of his trousers. Your open-mouthed kisses sent jolts of pleasure shooting through his cock, your scent of arousal mingling with his musk. The feel of your cheek rubbing against his cock like a bitch in heat had his shaft throbbing, straining against the confines of his clothing. He tightened his grip on your hair, pulling you flush against him.

Aemond leaned back slightly, just enough to catch your eye. His gaze held a silent warning, a reminder of who held the power here. You looked up at him, your eyes glazed with lust, your lips parted in a silent plea.

With a slight tilt of his head, Aemond indicated his desire. Selaesa wasted no time, your fingers deftly undoing the laces of his trousers. Aemond's cock sprang free, hard and throbbing, the tip already glistening with pre-cum.

Your eyes widened at the sight, your tongue darting out to wet your lips. Aemond's grip on your hair tightened a silent command.

You obeyed without hesitation, your lips wrapping around his cock with a soft moan.

You tried to desperately stifle any sound as you felt Aemond's thick cock fill my mouth once more. But a soft, muffled moan escaped despite your best efforts. Your tongue swirled around his shaft, tracing the sensitive vein on the underside, applying gentle suction. You cupped his heavy balls, rolling them gently in your palm, feeling their weight against your skin.

Aemond's eyes nearly rolled back as he felt your tongue swirl around his shaft, your hand cupping his heavy balls. He fought to keep his breathing steady, his gaze still fixed on Aegon, who droned on about matters of state. But his focus was elsewhere, tuned into every flick of your tongue, every gentle roll of your fingers.

He tightened his grip on your hair, a silent warning to keep your ministrations quiet. The last thing he needed was to draw attention to your illicit affair. But gods, the feel of your mouth on him, the scent of your arousal mingling with his musk, it was driving him mad with need.

Aemond shifted slightly in his seat, his hips canting forward, seeking more of your wet heat. You obliged, your lips sliding down his shaft, taking him deeper. Aemond bit back a groan, his eyes fluttering shut for a brief moment.

When he opened them again, his gaze locked with yours. In your eyes, he saw a mix of lust and love, a devotion that both thrilled and terrified him. He knew you belonged to him, body and soul. But a part of him wondered if you truly understood the depths of his darkness, the lengths he would go to secure his power.

In that moment you can't help but wonder if the Lords have gone deaf, or if they truly don't hear you as you drool all over the Prince's cock. The spit runs down your chin as you clean it up and spit it back onto his shaft, swallowing around him. You can only pray that your sounds of pleasure remain unnoticed and that no one catches on to the depravity happening right under their noses.

But a part of you thrills at the thought of being caught, of having your submission to Aemond laid bare for all to see. You know you should be ashamed, should feel dirty and used. But instead, you felt empowered by the knowledge that you hold such sway over your Prince, that you can bring him to the brink of madness with just your mouth and hands.

Aemond's breath hitched as he felt you swallow around his cock, your throat fluttering deliciously around his shaft. The sight of your spit running down your chin, the sound of it as you spit it back onto him, it was almost too much to bear.

He tightened his grip on your hair, his nails digging into your scalp as he fought to maintain control. Around you, the council members continued their debate, their voices a dull roar in his ears. But none of that mattered, not when your mouth was wrapped around him, not when your tongue was driving him to the brink of madness.

Aemond's hips bucked slightly, thrusting deeper into your throat. You happily obliged, taking him deeper, your nose pressed against the wiry hairs at the base of his cock. Aemond's eyes rolled back, a low groan escaping his lips.

He caught himself just in time, his gaze snapping back to Aegon, who was still humming on regarding matters of the Realm. Aemond forced a neutral expression onto his face, nodding along as if he were paying attention. But his mind was elsewhere, focused solely on the sensation of your tongue swirling around the throbbing head of his cock.

As you bobbed your head up and down his shaft, Aemond's thoughts drifted to the taboo nature of your affair. You were his cousin, his uncle’s daughter. Taking you, claiming you, went against everything society deemed proper. And yet, the thrill of it, the knowledge that he was defiling his own blood, only added to his arousal, fueling his desire.

You gagged as he thrust up into your mouth, tears welling in your eyes, but you loved every second of it. The salty taste of your tears mingled with the taste of his cock on your tongue, flooding your senses. His thick shaft hit the back of your throat, stretching your jaw painfully, but you revelled in the exquisite burn. Each brutal thrust sent shockwaves of pleasure-pain through your core, body trembling with a mix of submission and desire. You knew you should feel degraded, but all you could focus on was the intoxicating power of pleasing him, of being used for his depraved needs. In that moment, you were his.

Aemond let out a low, guttural groan as he thrust up into your mouth, his cock hitting the back of your throat repeatedly. He watched, transfixed, as your eyes watered, as your throat tried to adjust to his girth. The sight of you gagging on his cock, of your tears streaming down your cheeks, it only served to heighten his pleasure.

He gripped your hair tighter, holding you in place as he fucked your face, setting a brutal pace. Around you, the council members continued their debate, their voices blending into a meaningless drone. All that mattered was the feeling of your mouth around him, the knowledge that he was using you, defiling you, in front of all these noble lords.

Aemond could feel his orgasm building, his balls tightening, his shaft pulsing against your tongue. He was close, so close to spilling his seed down your throat. But a part of him held back, wanting to prolong this moment, to savour the sensation of her submission.

He slowed his thrusts, allowing you to catch your breath, to regain your composure. You looked up at him, your eyes glazed with lust and adoration, your lips swollen from his use. Aemond felt a surge of power, of possession. You belonged to him, body and soul. And he would make sure you never forgot it.

With a final, brutal thrust, Aemond buried himself to the hilt in your throat, his cock pulsing as he came. He held you in place, forcing you to swallow every last drop of his seed, to taste his power, his dominance.

You moan softly as you swallow every last drop of Aemond's seed, your tongue lapping at his softening cock to clean him of your mixed fluids. The salty taste of him fills your mouth and sends shivers down your spine. You love pleasing him like this, craving the feeling of his cum sliding down your throat.

As he pulls away, you gaze up at him adoringly, your eyes shining with devotion. You lick your lips, savouring the lingering flavour of him. "Was that to your liking, my prince?" you ask softly, your voice husky with desire. You ache to feel him inside you again, to be filled and claimed by him.

As he pulled out of your mouth, Aemond caught a glimpse of the council members, their eyes wide with shock and embarrassment. But he didn't care. Let them look, let them whisper behind their hands. He had claimed you, had marked her as his own, and nothing could change that.

Aemond watched with satisfaction as you dutifully swallowed every drop of his seed. The sight of you on her knees, his cum glistening on your lips, sent a thrill of power and possession through him.

As you gracefully rose to your feet, Aemond's gaze flicked to the stunned council members, their faces etched with shock and barely concealed astonishment. He met their eyes, his stare challenging them to speak out against him. No one dared utter a word, their tongues tied by fear of incurring his wrath.

Aemond turned his attention back to you, his eye dark with desire and a hint of cruelty. "Come," he commanded, his voice low and authoritative. Without waiting for a response, he grabbed your wrist and led you out of the council chamber, leaving the gawking nobles in his wake.

[fhrlclln]

hiiii can i request a fluffy and smutty fic with greasy qimir :> sometimes i prefer his dorky side before he revealed himself. something like friends to lovers, drunk confessions with the reader, or any storyline you like!

wasted confessions | qimir

SUMMARY -> you have been close friends with qimir, your fellow co-worker, for as long as you can remember when you worked under the mysterious force-user as a confidante. though harboring in yourself that you may view him as something more, his share of secrets unravel one night when he's had too much to drink with you.

qimir x fem! reader

masterlist

GENRE -> nsfw/smut

WARNINGS -> unprotected p in v, oral (f!receiving), hair pulling, kinda sub! qimir

WC -> 5.2k

a/n: blowing o’s while cooking with this delicious fic. sorry for the delay lol! hope this satisfies you, anonz!! I ALSO LOVE THE DORKY QIMIR 🥹🥹🥹

likes, comments and reposts are greatly appreciated !! <3

enjoy !!

"qimir."

you knock on the starship's front door, getting impatient by the minute when there's no response. you tap your foot, waiting for a moment incase he finally wakes up. you sigh, knocking again, even louder as you can manage.

he always seems to do this on important missions.

"qimir!" you yell out again as you rolled your eyes. the people around the docking bay stare at you, wondering why you were insistent in waking up the owner of the ship when it is literally pass sleeping hours. knocking for several times again, you grumble, heading towards the cockpit as you stare up, knowing he was in there, sleeping soundly as ever. your eyes roam around the bottom of the ship for a moment and you pick something up, some rubbish or what, and chuck it at the cockpit's window. it makes a loud thud before it falls on the floor again.

a tiny yelp and shuffling inside the cockpit makes you sigh in relief.

the main door of the starship opens swiftly and low and behold is your sleepy companion greeting you with a smile and messy hair. his shirt is all wrinkled up and by the looks of his pants, it seemed he had put them on the last minute. your nostrils flare, no matter how charming he tries to be, he was getting on your nerves.

“h-hey! you’re early!”

“get dressed!” you push him inside his ship hastily and he yelps at your sudden touch as you push the button to shut the door. your nose catches a strong scent of alcohol on him and you grimace as you whined at qimir.

“mother of kriff, qimir, did you drank a whole cantina?” you shove him inside to the lounging area of the ship. he sits down as he watches you go in the hallway leading to his room.

“i needed a drink- or three. hey, i’m sorry, mae was out and you were out. i had nothing to do!” he voices his reason as you came out with fresh semi-clean clothes in your hands as you toss it towards him. he fumbles, quickly catching his clothes.

“get dressed. quickly. i hope you remembered why we’re here.” you fold your arms, eyeing him with a scolding and stern look on your face. you did not want this whole plan of his to be in ruins after you had strategically been eyeing the local apothecary near the jedi temple to be the look out spot for the big boss’s acolyte’s mission.

“local apothecary. blend in. yes, i remember.” he stands up as you glared at him. “because that was my idea. so yeah, i do remember. i always remember my plans, sunshine.”

you scoffed and he pats your shoulder before he heads in the bathroom. you were not really that annoyed with him, this dynamic between you two has been going on for as long as you can remember when you had been working for the masked stranger. you had met him when you were tasked on a job to steal… certain jedi stuff and qimir was your companion that day. he was, for the most part, kind of a big mouth asking you how you came to be working for the stranger and so-on and so-forth.

you grew to like him as a friend… or you think so. he has his charms, awkward and clumsy he may be, but he’s a good friend in all the trouble you are in working under what you can say is a man that’s clearly not a jedi and wields a red fucking saber. but he pays good and you couldn’t argue with that and for the most part, you owe him for saving your ass when you were still a smuggler back then. just that, you kinda wished he’d be more human than a creepy masked stranger when tells the jobs for you in-person.

“i don’t get why you are in a hurry. we got this.” qimir looks at you as you two walked in the dimmed markets of olega.

“i’m not. i just don’t want to blow this whole thing up.” you answered. the bustling noises of people and vendors filling in your hearing.

“it’s not like we’re gonna fail this. it’s me and you helping mae! we do great together.” he bumps his elbow to you gently, trying to cheer you up. you snort, nodding.

“i know. it’s not mae i’m worried if we fail.” you shrugged. qimir’s face frowns at that, knowing who you are pointing out.

“he’s not like that…” he gently says as you two passed by the jedi temple, the apothecary is near.

“you always defend him.” you snort. “i know mae’s master isn’t that crazy… but who knows? maybe if i fuck up one thing and blow his whole cover he’d stab me with his lightsaber-thingy.”

qimir goes quiet at that. something on his face tells you that he seems upset.

“you okay?” you asked him, concerned, raising a brow.

“i’m g-good! but hey, don’t worry too much. he knows your loyalty, he sees it and i see it! i would be very much be grateful in his place for all the hardworking stuff you do for him and mae.” he explains and you smiled at his optimism. he was always like this when you ranted out your worries for mae’s master, as if he knew him so well. but he merely says he owes him that’s why. you don’t press anything further, guessing it might be more than that and he isn’t willing to tell it to you yet.

“here it is.” you two stand in-front of the apothecary and you can see inside the old man who runs it. ready to close his shop for the night.

“right behind you.” qimir smiles as you walk in with him following behind your back, ready to quietly let his plan flourish.

・゜゜・．

“wear this.” qimir urges you, handing you a very large set of tunics and robes in his hand. you grimaced, not even liking the color and it surely wouldn’t even suit you.

“why me? i thought you were the one going to blend in.” you huff and he grins.

“nuh-uh, we’re in this together so you have to blend in as well.” he says as you took the robes. “it’s comfy, don’t you worry, sunshine.”

you eye him up, looking at his own robes he borrowed from the apothecary’s shopkeeper. it certainly made him even look more… what can you say? dorky? cute? you think and it makes you laugh.

“you’re laughing at me. again.” he pouts and you ignored him, heading at the back of the shop to change. “it’s rude to laugh at me for no reason!”

the robes were definitely too big on you but you managed to at least give it an appealing look of how you wear it but it certainly was comfy. you head back to the counter and you see qimir fiddling with the shelves, sniffing a bottle he has in his hand and it makes him welch. you shake your head, amused as you lean forward on the counter.

“what do you think mae will try next to kill this jedi master?” you asked, grabbing some merchandise on the counter to examine it while qimir hums at your question about mae’s mission to kill master torbin.

“i don’t know.” he merely shrugs and grabs a flask as he smells it and his face lights up in his find.

“i’d be bummed out trying to kill a jedi without a weapon, that was what she said, right?” qimir nods and you hum thoughtfully.

“mae’s gonna eventually find a way to do that. it's part of her lesson.” qimir says as he drinks from the flask. “if she fails with this one, there’s the wookie next.”

“ugh.” you grimaced. “i feel bad for her. a wookie jedi.”

he chuckles and rounds towards you behind the counter. “i think it’s a challenge for mae. i haven’t seen anyone fought a wookie yet and let alone a jedi one at that. i am curious to see how that goes.”

“trust me, you don’t want to see that.” you mumbled, cringing back when a particular memory from before crosses your mind.

“can’t she like- you know, use the force.” you blabbered. “like choke a person. that’s a thing in the jedi, right?” you gestured your hand as if you were holding someone in a chokehold. qimir looks at you amusingly and something is written across his face with that suggestion of yours.

“that’s not a jedi thing.” he shakes his head at you with a small laugh and you shrugged, liking his laughter that rings through your ears.

"i'd make it my thing then if i had the force." you regarded. "besides, it's worth the try if i were mae."

"i'm pretty sure you would." qimir says as he took a sip from his small flask. you eye him, wanting to tease him a little as you snatched his flask after he took a swig.

"hey!

you took a sniff of it and grimaced at the strong smell of the contents. it certainly was... alcoholic.

"ugh. what is this?" your nose scrunched in disgust but before you could take a sip of courage, qimir snatches it back quickly.

“no drinking on the job.” he teases and you rolled your eyes.

“hypocrite.” you poke the side of his waist making him yelp at the sudden touch and you giggled at his reaction. “says the one who always drinks on the job.”

“this isn’t a real drink so i wouldn’t even consider that i am drinking on the job right now.” he downs the remaining liquid in the flask and sets it down on the counter with a relaxed sigh.

“but speaking of drinks. i do need a real drink, i managed to snatch a bottle of the local rum on our way here.” he bends down to grab something underneath the counter. you eye him curiously, seeing him so excited. he stands up again and smiles devilishly as he holds the bottle in front of you.

“do you wanna drink while we wait for mae?”

usually, you would decline his offer but now you can’t help yourself, deciding maybe one drink would help ease you down for a bit. meaning…

one drink and two more…

but here now are the two of you, sitting on the floor behind the counter. the shop is closed and the only thing that fills in the darkness of the place is the dim light by the counter. the bottle of rum is half-empty and qimir is giggling loudly at one of your absurd stories which, in-fact, weren’t really that funny but you two giggle at it anyway of how you tell it. you hadn’t realize how late it was but that didn’t even matter as qimir tipsily babbles at you.

“listen, listennnnn-“ he tipsily holds his finger up to you as you giggled at the way he was acting now. both of your systems jacked up with alcohol.

“what?” you couldn’t stop giggling as he giggles as well.

“i- i just can’t understand why mae can’t figure out how to do her mission!” he says as he sighs, blowing a raspberry before picking up the bottle of rum and putting it on his mouth. he takes a big sip and you watch his adam’s apple bob at each gulp he took. your entire body feels fuzzy and you aren’t sure if it’s the alcohol taking that effect or the unsaid feelings that’s threatening to spill out in you. you blink, mesmerized by the sheen of sweat on his honey pale skin as qimir finishes his drink then looks straight at you. everything feels in slow motion, and you can feel yourself get lost in the warm sensation of the moment and in his dark brown eyes.

“i mean… you said it! use the force! how can’t she see that?” he hiccups and you nod along, not fully registering his words. “and i’m kinda pissed how she takes me for granted! i- we have been helping her for as long as we can… a little thank you or something would be nice.”

“yeah… a thank you would be nice as well from the master.” you said, nodding dumbly as you grab the bottle from his hand and took a large sip.

“i’m sure he’s thankful for you- us.” he hiccups again and you shake your head at that.

“i doubt. i work for him so i guess gratitude wouldn’t really need to be there.” you say and took a sip.

“hey…” qimir pats your thigh and you look at him. “he can be a little… cryptic but i know he appreciates the work you do for him.”

“and how do you knowww?” you stretch out the last syllables sarcastically. qimir smiles and scoots closer to you, his arm is squished against yours and the tingly feeling inside you doesn’t hinder. he stares at you for a moment, looking into your eyes before it flickers down to your lips.

“because…” he begins, eyes flickering back to yours. “you’re tough, strong, hardworking… kind and most of all, loyal.” he nips his lower lip momentarily and your gaze is stuck to that as he continues. you feel warm and qimir feels even warmer beside you.

“he’d be an idiot not to see all that.” he smirks and you giggle. something else is behind those words than what he truly says.

“shhh, he might hear you.” you giggle again and qimir just grins at you.

“bahh, don’t care.” he says. “you’re an amazing woman so don’t underestimate yourself.”

you smile at him at that, your chest fluttering and your head is pounding at the sudden rush of blood. qimir looks at you, eyes heavy and his cheeks painted red.

“you’re cute trying to reassure me.” you roll your eyes at him, feeling a little shy now despite being tipsy.

“i think that’s the first compliment you have ever given me!” he laughs and you smile. “i’m honored.”

“well, sorry, you should fix your greasy hair sometimes and maybe i’ll compliment you even more.” you teasingly say then brushed the bangs covering his face to tuck it behind his ear. you hadn’t realized you had done that until a tense silence comes between you two. qimir stares at you, as if he was in a trance as his eyes flicker down to your lips again. you watch him, his face was close to yours, noses almost touching and you feel his hot breath brush against your skin.

there’s something written across his face. you weren’t sure really or that you are completely ignoring the truth in front of you. yes, you do like him… you really do like qimir but you always held back on those lingering feelings knowing that it would be a bad idea to act on it due to both of your obligations to the master and your friendship. distractions are dangerous… but maybe this one, you think, would be worth it if you try.

a kiss wouldn’t hurt your friendship, right?

“qimir?” you breathily call out his name.

“yeah?” he asks, his voice a little shaky but lower now. you blink, looking down to his lips then back to his eyes. the alcohol in your veins certainly making you courageous now as you ask him softly…

“can you kiss me?”

maybe it was the alcohol, maybe it was something more. your mind has a hundred questions but you don’t care for them right now as qimir’s lips lock with yours with such intensity. his mouth was on yours seconds after you asked him that and you were slightly taken aback how desperate he is. you grip his shoulders as he wraps his arm around your waist, pulling you closer for more. you’re almost on top of him as you tangled your fingers in his black locks. your heart is beating loudly and the fire down your core is burning wildly as qimir breathily sighs between your kisses.

everything feels soft, hot and heavy.

years of imagining what his lips would taste like didn’t disappoint you. he was like a roaring flame underneath you, the more you reciprocated, the more he showed this side that burns through your skin. you want more- so much more but…

you stop.

you break away from him the moment you two needed air. your lips are centimeters from his, both of your mouths are glistening underneath the dim light and his eyes are darker the way he looks at you. the sound of heavy breathing fills in the air and you ponder for a moment, your rational brain starting to tell you that this was wrong. both of you are pumped with alcohol in your veins and maybe this kiss was just in the heat of the moment. you stay silent, waiting for qimir to break away and reject you.

“i dreamed of this. your lips…” he whispers, lips brushing gently against yours. your heart pounds wildly from his words but you still can’t believe it. were you dreaming? it seemed like his own share of secrets and yours are finally laid down at last.

“we’re drunk… are y-you sure-“

“i’m perfectly sure.” he strongly says, as if the giggling qimir had vanished and this baffles you.

“since when?” you ask shyly.

“since the start.” he confesses and you feel alive.

“me too.” you confessed as well and this makes his heart soar as well.

and your mind didn’t question anything further when you leaned again to capture his mouth on yours. now here you are, things got heated quickly as you were on your back with him above you, in between your legs as you breathily moan his name out when he kisses your neck softly.

his hand gently caresses the side of your waist to where your skin is peeking out from the ill-fitted robes you wear. your hands are in his hair again and you shuddered when the tips of his fingers went up higher. he nips the soft flesh of your neck, littering you with then with kisses as he sucks on a sensitive spot making you whimper. your hands then roamed back to his shoulders, feeling underneath the tension of his muscles even though his wool tunic was concealing much to your eyes. your hands then travel down to his chest, then downwards to the hem of his tunic. you tug up but he stops for a moment with his other hand. qimir’s head shoots up to meet your questioning gaze.

“n-not here.” he breathily says and you eye at the small alcove behind him. your eyes shimmer with want and he sits up, pulling you along as well to get there. you kiss him when both of you are standing, he slowly steps back where you guide him to the small couch in the alcove. you messily kiss him with such need in which he reciprocates with such desperation, your hands move to get him out of his tunic while he did the same to you. his hands fumble with your robes and you managed to pry off the string holding his tunic and your hands are rewarded with the feel of his hot skin beneath your palm.

you break the kiss with a curious look in your eyes when you look down to see his muscled chest and clearly toned abdomen. what else was he hiding from you underneath his ugly clothes? you think and qimir smirks at your dazed face. he makes use of your distraction to turn you around and push you gently to the couch. you make a noise of surprise and your top is off in seconds, making you shiver at the cold air. he towers over you and latches his mouth to your neck again then trailing down to your bared breasts.

“qimir…” you mewl and he latches his mouth on one of your nipples and sucks. you gasp at the feeling of his sinful mouth as his other hand grope the neglected breast. your mind is clouded with want and need when he continues his ministrations, alternating between your breasts. satisfied with your reaction to his touch, he pops his lips out when he detaches from your breast and focuses down to your clothed bottoms. he removes his opened tunic first, granting you a full view of his muscled body making your thighs clench and your core dripping with need.

he’s fit. like really fit and you wonder where the hell did the hunched back and dorky qimir was.

he hooks his fingers on your bottoms and gently removes it and tosses it aside like his tunic. it leaves you bare but with your panties on concealing the prize he seems to now focus on.

“you’re so beautiful.” he almost whines at the sight of you almost naked. your cheeks flushed hot and qimir then touches the hem of your panties as he looks at you with dark glinting eyes. “can i?”

you nod, liking how airy is tone is, how you can feel he’s feeling the same want and need like you. you watch him pull your panties down to your thighs then to your ankles then tossing it back his shoulder. you feel shy now, bare underneath him. you close your thighs instantly and he smiles at you.

“what’s there to be shy about, sunshine?” he says and you roll your eyes but you can’t help but smile as well.

“come on, open up.” he taps your knees and you do. his chest rise at the sight of you glistening for him. he licks his lips and your heart hammers seeing the tent in his pants.

“hurry up.” you tease him and he moves, gripping your thighs as he bends down and hooks your legs on his shoulders.

“patience.” he says as he kisses your inner thigh.

“you’re so wet for me.” he is in awe as he dives in, latching his mouth immediately on your clit. you grip his hair at the sudden wave of pleasure from his mouth. he sucks, relishing the taste of you as he flattens his tongue to lick a stripe from your seam. you feel him hum with satisfaction and you moan out his name airily as he eats you out like a starved man.

you arch your back when he sucks your clit again, you were dizzy and very much pleased how skilled his tongue is. the apothecary is filled with your breathy moans and sighs of his name and qimir groans when you tug his hair harshly as he slurps. he’s drooling, grinding down on the couch at how hard he is from eating you out.

“kriff.” he curses as he sucks and licks, alternating his mouth to your clit and opening. you could almost feel yourself cumming, the knot in your stomach is forming but as wonderful the thought of cumming on his tongue was, you wanted to come with him inside you.

“get u-up.” you shakily say, tugging his hair back harshly as he lifts his head up with it. you blink, core clenching seeing his chin and mouth glistening with your wetness. you tug again as he gets the memo as you released his greasy and messy hair. he sits back on his knees and you rise up slightly, letting your hands hurriedly pushing his bottoms down. he does it as well, desperate to free himself from his confines. with one pull down, he frees himself, cock spring out as it hits his abdomen. you drool at the sight of his hard prick and he grips himself, groaning out your name at the sensation.

“c-can i…?” he asks again, looking down at you with watery eyes. “can i fuck you, please?”

you nod dumbly, loving the way he is so cute to ask you first. “get inside me.” you command and spread your legs wider and he slots himself immediately between them. he rests his forehead against yours and you watch him line himself to your entrance. the tip of his cock sinks in and you kiss him hungrily. qimir shakily lets out a curse and a few breathy sighs between kisses as he pushes his hips forward to slot himself inside you. you mewl, feeling full as he pushes himself inch by inch.

“you’re so warm.” he says and you moan, you clench around him as he bottoms himself in you. he stays still for a moment, adjusting his arms to prop himself properly whilst you kiss every inch of his skin that comes near your mouth. you clench again and qimir shakily lifts his hips up then thrusts. you arch your back as he thrusts in again, grinding himself to your hips.

he sets a steady rhythm now and you grip his broad shoulders. your eyes meet his hazily and he moans out your name. the sound of skin slapping fills in the apothecary, outside is quiet and you think for a moment that maybe your neighbors would complain tomorrow of the noises you two make. your cunt wraps around him so perfectly it makes him feel like jelly. and the sound you make as he pounds into your cunt has him wanting for more.

your hearts beat loudly, sweat is shinning on both of your skins, kisses are shared and most of all, both of you feel complete even if it was unsaid at the moment. you could feel your high nearing as you glide your hand down to your clit, qimir’s rhythm is faltering as he feels himself coming undone. his hair disheveled and he feels you clench tight.

“come for me, qimir.” you whisper and he nods, groaning out your name as he fastens his pace. he bites his lip and his muscles clenched at it, and he empties himself inside you with a load groan of your name. you shoot up, rubbing your clit harshly as you come undone after him, his warm cum filling you. you clench around his hard cock and fall back onto the couch. you sigh, other hand gently brushing his hair out of his face.

he sighs as well, slowly pulling out making you whimper at the lost of the fullness. you see his eyes blink tiredly and you gently guide him to rest on your chest. he follows, wrapping his arm around your waist. your chest is still heaving from the intensity and you also feel yourself getting sleepy.

“i like you… like a lot.” he breaks the silence and you chuckled, caressing his hair as he snuggles his face between your breasts.

“i like you too.” you whisper and he smiles at that, eyes blinking sleepily as your hearts soar. you two fall into a deep slumber with satisfaction from the secrets that were finally not left unsaid anymore.

・゜゜・．

things did change after that night. you woke up with him still snoring soundly on your chest. the sun was peeking through the closed blinds of the store and you knew you had to break this soft moment as mae would arrive later. you were so happy that even though your friendship had shifted, it still held the same but with kisses shared and more smiles on your faces.

qimir clearly became more joyful as well. he walks with a spring on his steps as him and mae walk in the forests of khofar. you were left behind by the ship to keep a look out after the three you had escaped olega since the jedi order had caught mae on her mission and interrogated the two of you in the apothecary much to both of your dismays. qimir hums a happy tune and mae looks at him skeptically.

“so both of you finally managed to get on with it, huh?” she asks him as he suddenly stops in his steps, acting dumb and looks at the acolyte with feign confusion. “don’t act dumb. why do you call her sunshine?”

“because… she’s like the sun and she shines?” he shrugs and mae rolls her eyes, sighing.

“i don’t know what she sees in you but i’m glad she’s happy.” she says and they continue their walk while qimir grins.

“i’m happy as well!” he fakes a frown and mae ignores him.

you on the other hand are biting your lip nervously. night has already fallen and qimir and mae haven’t come back. your thoughts run wild and you worry that maybe the jedi wookie had got to them. especially qimir, you were worried for him even though you knew he could defend himself but with a blaster and maybe his dorky pleads to let him go. he did plead with you to stay put, leaving you with a kiss and a promise they’ll come back in one shape but you can’t help yourself.

you knew where the wookie’s house was in the forest. you were the one who managed to find it using your resources in khofar. now you trek in the woods, blaster in hand and followed the trail. you were getting worried not hearing qimir’s voice as you neared the house. but to your surprise, it was filled with countless dead jedis. you freeze in place as you surveyed the scene. did mae managed to do this? you think but it was likely.

you then heard a scrunch in the bushes and you swiftly turned around, aiming for whoever was there.

“hey! you’re here.” qimir emerges from the bushes and you are surprised.

“qimir? you had me worried.” you sighed, tucking your blaster back in your belt. he comes near you and the sun starts to rise and you can see him clearly now. your eyes widened seeing him dressed in black robes with muscled arms covered in dirt and sweat as if he gone through a fight, you tilt your head to the side and look him in the eyes.

“sorry. sorry.” he apologizes as he comes closer to you. you are silent for a moment, something in you skeptical at his sudden change of clothes. it was so familiar but as you were about to ask him on his style change, he then kisses you shortly and wraps his arms around you in a hug and rests his head on your shoulder with a tired sigh.

you blink, suddenly realizing something as you look down to his belt to see an awfully familiar saber. you reciprocated the hug but your brow twitching with irritation of another secret that was revealed that you clearly wished he had told you much earlier.

“you have a lot of explaining to do.”

“sorry.”

[captain-bubble-wrap]

Your dark Quinn is DELICIOUS! May we have more!?

I can't get the gif of Quinn out of my mind from the awards last season. The one where hesfixining his tie? Can we get some outfit picking? Quinn approving and disapproving of the reader's dresses for the upcoming awards show?

Please,make my dreams come true? ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

Nonnie...I went down a very slutty rabbithole with this one. If you (or anyone else) don't want 1,500 words of smut right out the gate. Ignore this one. If you'd like a redo, let me know, please!

It goes without saying: dark sexual themes throughout, just....dark everything. There's too much to list. 18+ Rated A for Adult, lol. Y'all know the drill!

"Darling, I need you to show me what you're planning on wearing next weekend," Quinn spoke, giving you a sideways glance as you passed by him in the living room. You stopped when he spoke to you, giving him your full and undivided attention anytime he spoke to you. He'd beckon you to come closer to the sofa where he sat, instructing you to sit and straddle his hips before he'd continue. His hands found the curve of your hips like a magnet, fingers clawing at them gently, while your hands rested on the top of his shoulders.

"Do you have an idea of what you want to show me?" He pressed, bouncing you with his leg a couple times so you slid closer to his chest.

"I have several I think you'd like," you smiled, keeping your hands where they were, but wanting to play with his hair. Your eyes remained on his, knowing he didn't like when they wandered.

Quinn breathed deep the smell of your shampoo as he leaned up into you to place a kiss to your exposed collarbone. His hands trailed from your shorts, up under the hem of your tank-top, to tease your taut nipples with the soft pads of his thumbs. Your sharps gasps brought a smirk to his lips while he continued to dot your skin with his affections, careful not to leave a mark anywhere it might be seen by a prying camera.

"Someone's a little needy this morning," he teased, working fast circles on your left bud while your hips grinded against him. You could feel your heartbeat pounding between your legs, just wanting to beg him to touch you but you knew he wouldn't. It was a treat that he was even letting you tease yourself through the friction of your cloth shorts. You could already feel the fabric grow cool from your arousal.

"What are you doing, princess?" He hummed, feeling you try to push deeper into his hips; struggling to press your clit on something that would give you the stimulation you craved.

Your answer to his question was simply a moan, as his tongue took over for his finger. His hot breath and spit against your sensitive button sent a fresh wave of tingles coursing through your body, Your pussy ached for the feeling of a touch that wasn't your own, of something you couldn't anticipate the sensation of.

"Answer me, sweetheart, or you'll be grounded."

/Grounded./ Quinn's definition of the word meant no orgasms, either by your own doing or his, no matter how much you begged, promised, or cried. He'd get you just to the point of release, time-after-time, just to leave you in tears while he walked away, making you think he was going to lift your punishment when in reality it only made it worse. You had only been "grounded" once, and it had been the worst week you could remember. You had never felt more desperate, more needy, or touch starved than the week he kept you waiting. But god, when he finally let you come, you felt weightless for an hour afterwards.

"I want you to touch me, please," you replied, breathlessly following his one and only warning, stopping your movements while he spoke.

Quinn's tone deepened, "Do you want me to touch you, or do you want to get off?"

"Both," you answered immediately, your chest heaving.

He just grinned at your answer, that devious smirk that drove you equally as crazy as it frightened you.

"Get up, princess," he ordered, withdrawing his hands from your body, leaving you stunned and fearful you had answered incorrectly. "Now."

Without needing another push, you pulled yourself off of him and stood beside him, trying so hard to be patient.

"In my lap, sweetheart."

Swallowing hard, you did as you were told, and soon found yourself between his thighs, your hands resting on either side of him.

"You're such a good girl, doing as you're told so quickly," he growled deeply into your ear. "I don't like having to tell you twice. Thank you for not making me do that."

"You're-- welcome," you choked out, finding yourself nervous for whatever was about to happen. You mind was fuzzy with wants and unspoken desires, making it harder to focus on the present.

Quinn's breathy laugher sent goosebumps across your skin as his right hand roamed. "I like to reward good girls."

His fingers slipped under the band of your shorts and painfully slow, inched across your bare skin until he discovered just how wet you were for him. You never disappointed him on that front, and he loved being surprised with just how intense it was. There were few things that topped how his fingers felt when you craved him so badly, they were a second to his tongue, of course. Your back arched against him as he traced the outline of your lips so lightly you had to focus to feel it. He was playing with you, but it didn't matter: you were getting what you had asked for, and if you played your cards right, he'd complete both of your wants at once.

"You get so wet so fast, princess. I hardly even touched you. Tsk, tsk, tsk," his tongue ticked against the back of his teeth. "Such a desperate little thing you are, aren't you?"

"Yes!" You moaned as he slipped his index into you, the sound of your wet sex popping in the quietness of his apartment while he buried his finger into you as deep as the angle would allow him. You were tightening against him, pushing into each thrust with quickening desperation.

Having given you a taste of what you could expect later, Quinn withdrew his finger, slick with your fluids, and took to rapidly stroking your plump clit. Your moans grew deeper, and more consistent with each wave of pleasure that washed over you.

"You sound so beautiful, sweetheart." He whispered, nuzzling into your neck as you continued to grind against his hand. You tried to grasp at the cushions for something to hold on to, but you just couldn't get your fingers around enough of it to do any good. Instead, your right hand would find the top of his, as he continued to play with you; your fingers sliding down his.

"Maybe I should make you get yourself off?" Quinn teased, feeling your hand press against his.

"Please, no," you begged, eyes closed in complete bliss.

"But you seem so eager to help. Do you want to feel how wet you are?"

Quinn slipped his hand from beneath yours and forced you to touch yourself, his fingers instructing where and how fast. You already knew you were past the point of being a dripping mess, and you couldn't deny how good it felt to have him show you how to pleasure yourself. Your moans continued, short and high-pitched as his pressure grew against your clit with that of your own fingers.

"That's enough," he hushed, making you take your hand away reluctantly. "That's for me to do."

The next time his fingers would separate your aching slit, your legs would involuntarily spread wider, as you pushed back against the pleasure. Every sensation felt so heightened, so intense, while you teetered on the edge of numbness. Quinn was grinning as he nipped at your shoulder, wanting to leave the darkest hickey on your shoulder yet he had to restrain himself. His fingers switched between rolling your clit under his fingertips to seeing how far he could bury his fingers inside of you.

"How good do you taste?" He asked, ordering you to clean off your fingers of your own arousal. "Good?"

"Yes," you replied, after sucking your fingers clean on demand.

"I can't wait to taste you," he murmured, his hum of his voice shooting like a vibration between your legs, a fresh supply of that slick nectar coating his fingers. "Ah, fuck.'

Quinn hissed against his tightening cock pressing against the zipper of his pants. Each time you thrusted against his touch, it teased him and you could feel him press up into you. He was hard, making you want to ask him if he'd fuck you right there.

"Do you feel what you do to me?"

"Yes."

"Good girl." Upon the praise, Quinn buried two fingers deep into you, for the final push to get you to come when he said so. You were close; you had been since touching yourself. Your mouth was growing dry, having to constantly gasp for air against the throaty moans he was causing you to expel. You wanted to come, yet you didn't want to have his fingers be gone from your body.

"Are you going to come hard for me, sweetheart?"

"Uh-huh," you nodded, mouth open and eyes rolled back as you met his thrusts. His beautiful fingers lost inside your wetness just made you quicken your pace. He knew you were desperate to come, and he was nearing letting you finally let go. Just a few more minutes under his control was all he selfishly wanted and he'd get it, too.

"You've made such a mess."

"I know, I'm sorry," you whined, absolutely pathetic and lost in his touches.

"What do you want?"

"I want to come," you cried out.

"What else?" He dared you to say what you wanted later.

"I want-- I want to--," you were struggling to speak in complete sentences, and for good reason. Quinn had two fingers, knuckle-deep inside of you, pressing you to do what you were told. "I want to feel myself tighten around your cock, daddy!"

You were drooling as Quinn smirked behind you. Your hips were pushing against his erection harder now, causing Quinn to have to issue you a warning.

"Careful, princess. Not so hard; I'm not inside of you yet." His voice was low as he bit your ear. "Eager little daddy's girl, hm?"

"Yes!" You gasped, feeling Quinn's fingers slip back to your sensitive clit. You didn't know how much longer you could hold on.

Feeling you had deserved to finally have your release, Quinn brought his left hand to your throat and squeezed just enough to heighten the last few moments of pleasure. "You've done so well for me, baby. You've made daddy so proud. Would you like to come now?"

"Yes-- Yes, daddy, please! Please!"

With his lips right next to your ear, he breathed that phrase you had been craving, "Come for me, princess."

Your ears were ringing, legs were Jell-o, and your whole body was tingling as you were finally granted the extended orgasm you had begged for. Your moans were loud, but sounded so sweet to Quinn. He loved how your voice sounded at this stage, your fingers clawing at his skin, and you going limp against him as wave after wave of bliss flooded every one of your senses.

"You're so beautiful," he whispered again, holding you tightly against his chest, your back still to him. Your head had fallen back against the sofa, as you struggled to catch your breath. The room was spinning but you felt so good that it didn't matter.

"Are you okay, sweetheart?" Quinn asked softly, giving you as much time as you needed to find yourself again. He had all day, and he was kind enough to let you use as much as was necessary.

"Mhm," you mumbled, your voice sleepy. "Thank-- thank you."

"But of course," he said, a smile in his tone. "Take your time. There's no rush, but I'm going to take my fingers away, alright?"

You bit your lip and nodded; your hips jerked feeling his fingers withdraw from your over-stimulated petals. However, you quickly melted back into a feeling of weightlessness as Quinn's arms snaked around your waist, holding you tightly and keeping you right against him.

"Still okay?"

"Mhm."

Smiling, Quinn tightened his hold on your, nuzzling against your bare shoulder. "How about I get you cleaned up and you play dress-up for me, hm?"

You would nod again, and he'd let you get away with not using your words when he asked you a question. Quinn believed in a free pass every once in a while.

"Alright, swing your legs over, princess, and I'll carry you."

"I can--," you mumbled, still sleepy but you'd be interrupted.

"You can't walk, don't lie to me. I can see you're still shaking. You'd fall down if you tried to stand, and I won't have that. Legs. Don't make me ask again, sweetheart."

Swinging them to the left, this would be the first time seeing his face since he told you to get up and turn around. Your hair had fallen down from the messy bun it had been in, sweat had your skin glowing, and your bottom lip was red from how many times you had rolled it between your teeth. Quinn pulled your shirt back down before placing one last kiss to your exposed neck. He always led with his tongue. Your eyes would roll closed, feeling your core tense up in eager anticipation all over again.

"Just one last little tease, baby," he whispered. "There will be time for more later."

Hiding your face in the curve of his neck as he stood to his feet, you'd find yourself smiling at the thought.

- - -

The bath had been so relaxing.

Quinn had washed your face while the water filled, and made sure you didn't have to lift a finger for anything. All he had asked, was that you sipped at the glass of water he had given you. Everything he did was calculated, unhurried, and almost painfully soft. Even has he washed your hair, his fingers were careful never to pull through a snag. You were his little doll, and the most delicate of treatment would be afforded to you every time.

"Do you need anything else?" He asked, kneeling down to be level with you. You hadn't bounced back as quickly as he thought you would have, so he was keeping a close eye on you just to be sure. "You're sure you're okay?"

"I think so," you replied, eyes searching his face for a hint of what could be the reason for him still asking the same question so many times. He always checked in, but this seemed different. "Is something wrong?"

He smiled, "That's for me to worry about."

You remained quiet. You felt okay other than you were just physically drained.

"Have you had anything to eat today?" Quinn's eyes narrowed slightly, knowing you had a bad habit of forgetting meals.

Your guilty eyes fell from his face in an instant and you knew you'd have to answer for it. "Toast."

"Sweetheart, you can't live solely on toast."

"I know, but--" You went to bite down on your lip again, but you stopped yourself, just like you stopped yourself from saying something that would get you in trouble. "I'm sorry. I'll be better."

Quinn's hand found the side of your jaw, holding it to keep your gaze where he wanted it. "Thank you." His smile was minimal but spoke volumes, mostly that of how pleased he was at how well you knew your place and what he expected of you. When he called you a good girl, it was because you really were one.

"You stay here and relax a little more, and I'm going to make you something for lunch. Ah--," he stopped, putting his thumb to your lips to keep your mouth closed. "I'll come get you when I'm done. Do you understand?"

With his thumb tracing your lips, you'd give a nod to his question.

His smile deepened as he pulled your face to his for a kiss, making you work for it as the water sloshed about with you having to struggle to meet him. "That was mean of me," he lamented, finally letting you slide back into the warm comfort of the water. "You should be resting."

Quinn would kiss the top of your head before getting to his feet and leaving the room. However, before completely exiting, he'd turn to look at you, his eyes dark, "I expect you to be where I left you when I come back, princess. Towels and floors best still be dry."

"I promise."

"Thank you," he said, finally disappearing from your line of sight.

The water was still steaming hot, but you knew he wouldn't forget you, and leave you to sit in cold water. Having a moment in your own thoughts, you remember what he had asked of you. The NHL Awards were next weekend and you needed some black-tie-level dress to wear. You knew you had several such gowns hanging in Quinn's closet, you just weren't sure which one would be the one he'd pick. Mentally, you'd flip through each of them, deciding which ones you'd reach for, and which you'd pass on when asked to finally try them on. At the moment, you knew of five you knew he'd show interest in. One he hadn't seen yet.

Twenty minutes later, Quinn would return to the bathroom, and was pleased to find you sipping from your glass and just as promised.

"Ready to get out?"

"Yes, please."

- - -

Quinn laughed, setting down the bowl of lemon and herb pasta in front of you. "Do you want me to feed you?" You couldn't tell if he was being serious or actually joking with you. His laugh should have given it away, but the sheer nature of it all seemed very honest.

"I can manage," you replied softly, hopeful he wouldn't take offense. "Thank you."

"I know you can, just having a bit of fun," he winked, though a part of him did wonder how that would go if he told you that you just had to sit there while he brought food to your mouth. A thought for another day, perhaps. "I want you to let me know how you feel in a little bit."

"I will," you reassured. "I'm okay, Quinny."

Quinn turned his head, his brows raised. "That's for me to decide."

You adverted your eyes from his face, focused now on the marble veins of the island. You knew you had just spoken out of place and now you feared the consequences. You could hear his footsteps move back towards you, and through your peripheral you could see him headed to come up behind you.

"Do you think I don't know when there's something wrong with you, hm?"

Quinn's finger traced the curve of your spine through the black silk, slip dress he had chosen for you following your bath. You shuddered against his touch, eyes closing unsure of what he was going to do next.

"You do, I'm sorry! I didn't mean it that way."

His fingers continued to inch upwards, following your neck until the digits were buried deep in your freshly dried hair, coiling around it tightly. He had a fistful when he pulled you backwards, your eyes snapping open when you felt like you were going to fall off of the kitchen stool. You would be looking at the ceiling when Quinn stepped into your view, still gripping your hair by the roots.

"Have I ever been wrong?"

"No," you yelped, the nape of your neck more sensitive than you could remember. "You know better than I do! I'm stupid, I'm sorry."

Quinn's fingers let go in an instant, allowing you to pull yourself back up and catching your breath. He stepped around to your right, taking the empty seat beside you.

"Look at me," he ordered, causing you to turn your whole body to face him. "Never say anything like that about yourself, princess. You're not stupid. I don't like hearing you put yourself down, especially when it's incorrect. Understood?

"Yes," you replied quickly, trying to steady your breathing, but it was turning into a struggle.

Quinn's hand would touch your thigh and move upwards, stopping when his wrist reached the hem. "You're never stupid," he reiterated.

You sniffled, as you nodded at his statement. He knew you were sorry so you refrained from uttering the constant apology.

"What am I going to do with you?" He mumbled, looking you over as you continued to face him. Quinn reached forward for your silverware then the white ceramic bowl, his left hand still gripping your upper thigh.

With a perfect piece of bowtie pasta perched on the tines of the fork, Quinn instructed you to open your mouth. He'd feed you the whole bowl, one piece at a time.

- - -

Quinn sat on the edge of the bed, watching you as you thumbed through the hangers, looking for the dresses you had in mind for the following weekend. He finally felt confident that you were well enough to entertain his private little show. You were barefoot, wearing only the silk slip dress, and your hair was pulled back in a large, black hairbow. While on your tiptoes, he gazed at the curve of your calves, upwards to your full thighs and bum. So many places for his hands to hold, but he'd restrain himself from telling you to come over. He'd get the opportunity soon enough.

You decided to pull first the dress that he hadn't yet seen -- start strong right out the gate. It was black, floor-length and off the shoulder with long sleeves, with a single, thigh-high slit on the left side. No sparkles, no lace, just the dull satin to hug your body. Minimal but stunning.

Quinn would watch you let the slip dress fall from your body to a minimal pile on the floor as you stepped into the gown, pulling it up over your hips before it pulled your cleavage into place. You'd get the zipper up as far as your could on your own before he finally spoke to you.

"Come here."

As instructed, you'd saunter over, the slight train dragging behind you as you made your way across the room. And when told to turn around, you'd do so. Quinn's warm fingertips touched your back gently as he pulled the zipper up the remainder of the way.

"I like this one. Face me again." As you turned, his hands felt your curves until you were once against standing in front of him. "Set this one aside. I want to see something else before I decide."

He'd give you a nod to return to the closet and pick another for his viewing pleasure. The next one was similar, only it fully covered your chest while the entire back was out. Quinn wasn't as pleased with this one as he had the first.

"It's alright, but the first one suited you more. Put it back on for me."

Again, you'd find yourself walking back across the room, your heart beat quickening as you remembered just how much trying on anything for him made you wet. Any time you had taken photos for him while he was away turned you on so much that it made it easy to record a little something extra for him with nearly no effort. This was proving to be no different.

With the dress back on, you'd return to his side but this time he wouldn't complete the zipper. Instead Quinn would rise to his feet, a look in his eyes like he was plotting something.

"Over the bed, princess."

There it was. This was the "later" he had mentioned before carrying you off to the bath.

Doing as you were told, you bent over the bed, your arms outstretched in front of you, face down into the duvet, as you knew what that meant. You tried to contain your breathing, hiding that you were anxiously awaiting his next move. Quinn's hands gripped the curves of your hips as he pressed himself into you, forcing your legs wider apart with his foot. Your stomach tightened as you found yourself aching for his touch again. Slowly, the fabric of the dress was inched up until you were exposed in front of him.

"You deserve this," he said, the sound of a smirk in his tone. The smack he'd give to your ass stung like a hot iron but you couldn't lie -- it had felt good. "Did you like that?"

"Yes," you giggled, getting a rise out of Quinn.

"Oh, did you now?" While he was talking to you, you hadn't heard the sounds of him removing his pants, but what you felt next had you clawing at the sheets.

"Can you take all of me, princess?" He asked, teasing the head of his cock against your throbbing sex.

"Yes!" You cried out, your eagerness getting the better of you again, making Quinn laugh softly. "Please!"

He'd enter your awaiting folds in one, full thrust, pushing you deeper into the mattress. You'd moan into the blankets but the sound was hardly muted. With one hand, Quinn braced himself, while the fingers of his other slipped beneath the folds of the dress to flick your sensitive clit. Like before, you'd push back into him, feeling the pleasure strike you all at once. Each stroke he blessed you with was met with a deep thrust in tandem. All you could do was grab at the blanket beneath you and gasp for air between moans.

Adrenaline was making your hearing fade, but you could hear him enter you again, and again -- the bed thumping against the wall slightly. Everything felt so good: his cock plunging deep into you, his soft fingers teasing you devilishly, keeping you so close to the edge of ruin.

"You're so pretty, darling -- say it back. Tell me you're pretty."

You were so lost in the multitude of sensations rattling your cage that you almost didn't hear Quinn talking to you. You swallowed hard, gasping for air to help you form the words he wanted you to say.

"I'm pretty!"

"Mhmmmm, and you're prettiest when you're get so wet for me, aren't you?"

"Yes, daddy!"

"That's right. You're doing so well for me, but I think you can do better."

Upon issuing you the challenge, Quinn's pace quickened, and you were all but biting at the sheets. Slick fingers caressed your clit with such pressure you nearly forgot to breathe. Just when you thought you'd hit your limit, Quinn demanded more from you, more patience, more self-control.

"There you go," he purred. "Hold on until I tell you not to."

You wanted to scream. Your brain was pudding, but that release was so close, one thought and you'd explode. He was railing you so hard into the mattress you had to constantly keep grabbing new fistfuls of the duvet to hold your place. You were on your tiptoes, cramps threatening to buckle your legs. It was so much to handle.

"Just a little more, princess. You can do it. Wait for me."

Had you been biting your lip, you would have tasted blood. Every muscle keeping you upright was at its limit, but you had to do what you were told. The last few minutes felt like an eternity. You were nearing the point of overstimulation.

"Now, princess, tell me what you want." His voice was strained, trying to hold himself together.

"Come in me, daddy! Please!"

His release shot into you before you were finished uttering the words.

Eyes rolled in your head when he finally granted you your reward for being so good, "Let go, darling. Come for me."

Your back arched, pushing yourself down on him one more time before he pulled out, leaving himself dripping down your leg. "That's a good girl," he finished, leaving a kiss between your shoulder blades after you had collapsed into the bed. You would have slumped to the floor in a heap had Quinn not pulled you into his embrace on the bed. You couldn't find your breath at first.

"You're alright, breathe. Breathe with me, sweetheart."

You were crashing, reduced to a girl puddle in a black gown.

"I definitely want you to wear that dress. I'll be sure to fuck you in it afterwards, so you can just be a desperate mess for me the whole night, remembering what I've already done to you in it. Can you do that for me?"

"Yes, daddy," you whispered, throat sore from gasping for air so many times.

"Thank you, princess." Quinn said, his arm tightening around you, as you went limp. You were exhausted and in need of another bath. For now, he'd just hold you while you had a little nap. You had earned that and much more.

[weepingchronicles]

The yandere caitlyn hcs where SO GOOD OMGG, can you please maybe write some about what day to day life would be like “living” with caitlyn. (now I’m picturing the reader doing a “grwm as a kidnapping victim” video) TYY

part one

a/n: i giggled at the grwm joke,, i'd definitely watch that on youtube or tiktok. LMAO.

cw: captivity, yandere behavior, controlling and overbearing behavior, drugging, physical violence, infantilization, amputation

❝yandere!caitlyn kiramman x fem!reader❞

💭 ୧ ‧₊˚ 🧁 I think the day to day routine would change slowly overtime! Depending on how long you've been in Caitlyn's "care."

💭 ୧ ‧₊˚ 🧁 I imagine for awhile from the moment you awoke to months after, Caitlyn would be pretty strict and diligent with routine. Wakes you up at 6 am, get ready for the day, breakfast at 7 sharp, activities for the day, lunch at 2 pm, dinner at 6 pm and bedtime at 10 pm. Obviously there will be small tweaks depending on what you both do but everything has to go through Caitlyn first. The reason for her absolute strictness on this is fear of what might happen if she does not abide by it. You could easily slip from her fingertips, she also wants to be the best caretaker for you and this is her way of proving it to you.

💭 ୧ ‧₊˚ 🧁 Fortunately, if you continue keep being good and stay out of troubles way she will eventually settle down! Things will be a lot more relaxed, she is still strict on making sure your health is well maintained though. But she'll let you stay up if you want, to a reasonable time of course. Or you can sleep in! As long as she gets cuddles in return. Ugh.

💭 ୧ ‧₊˚ 🧁 Honestly you'd probably get bored often, especially with Caitlyn's job. So she tends to spend as much time with you as possible.

💭 ୧ ‧₊˚ 🧁 She likes to teach you things! From piano lessons, painting and simply reading together. You might not be that willing at first but your boredom gets to you so often that you eventually accept those activities with her. Caitlyn thinks of it as bonding.

💭 ୧ ‧₊˚ 🧁 She also loves to pamper you, dressing you up in fancy clothing and dresses or having you try delicious pastries. If you have a sweet tooth then you're in heaven! On calm days, you both will drink tea while reading.

💭 ୧ ‧₊˚ 🧁 Her punishments vary, often if you are simply acting out as she likes to call it, she'll simply restrain you or drug you with a light sedative.

💭 ୧ ‧₊˚ 🧁 For more severe offenses, like trying to escape or hurt Caitlyn, etc. She will not be happy. She'll restrain you, guide you away from whatever it is you're doing or stop you from trying to hurt her, etc and then she'll lecture you. Like some child. An unequal. You have to maintain eye contact with her too because if you don't she will grab your chin roughly or snatch your hair.

💭 ୧ ‧₊˚ 🧁 I can't really see Caitlyn letting you get away with things too easily, this girl holds a grudge so when you mess up it will take even longer to regain her trust back. No matter if you prove yourself or your behavior is as pristine as can be, she will question and look at you suspiciously. She will only relax when she is 100% sure nothing of the sort will happen again.

💭 ୧ ‧₊˚ 🧁 She will put you in a guest room and lock you inside, tying you up inside for a couple days until her initial anger wears off. During that time she'll bring you food or anything essential of course, she will also recite the rules of the house over and over, making sure you understand them and the consequences.

💭 ୧ ‧₊˚ 🧁 If you're a particularly resistant darling then I am afraid things will not go well for you.. you can only disobey Caitlyn a handful of times before she has to do something about it. Permanently.

💭 ୧ ‧₊˚ 🧁 She will straight up either break your legs so you cannot walk ever again or amputate them. You will need her constantly and she loves it. At this point she has no sympathy for you, at least not in the real way. She pities you but in her mind you made her do this. Why couldn't you just obey her and live her domestic fantasy?

💭 ୧ ‧₊˚ 🧁 "This is your fault, darling."

art credit: @/kulnifer on twt

[voxisdaddy]

Sweets

C/TW: Mentions of sex but otherwise nothing bad.

Nah but imagine Vox knowing you have a crush on him and he’s thinking like, yeah I could take advantage of this—meaning ‘hell yeah I get laid and an attractive partner? Sign me up’. Regardless of what your relationship with him is, he is interested and down to fuck and have a possible sexual relationship with you from here on out. So he makes his move by inviting you to his personal living quarters in the Vee Tower. You walk in, heart fluttering about at the prospect your crush wanting to spend time with you, and are quickly met with Vox. He of course puts the moves on you; charming smirk, the correct choice of words, arm wrapping around your hips or your waist as he pulls you in closer to him. He hints at something—a burning desire. You’re flustered in his arms. He’s thinking, yeah he’s got this in the bag. But then you push on his chest and unwrap yourself from his arm. Wait what? “Vox,”—You’d start, “I’m flattered but…I’m not that kind of person.” You then excuse yourself and before Vox knows it, he’s standing alone in his living quarters. You’re into him? He knows this. What happened? Despite his annoyances with the results, he still persists. He spends the next several weeks trying to seduce you, flirting with you very sexually—not Valentino level but still sexually charged. Yet every time he gets shot down. One day he’s ranting to Velvette about it to which she rolls her eyes and scoffs, “Is sex the only thing you can think about?” Velvette whips out her phone, pulling up your social media pages, all your likes, comments, reposts, music playlists, shows and movies you watch, ect,. “They’re a romantic—A fucking sweet one at that. Taking advantage of their feelings just so you can get your dick wet whenever you want isn’t gonna get you anywhere, darling.” Vox spends a few days thinking it over. Okay so a more romantic approach. But he tried inviting you over! He even set the mood and everything. Though it was with the hope that…it would quickly lead to having you naked on his bed. He probably has some sort of mental war with himself about it too. Like why’s he trying so hard? It isn’t until he spots you on one of his cameras where he realizes he may want something much more than just sex with you. But is it too late? Did all his attempts at wooing you really scare you away? He watched with bated breath as you sat on a water fountain, gingerly typing away on your phone. You were wearing the loveliest looking spring dress/shirt. You looked so…beautiful. So sweet. So innocent. And romantic. A type of romance that seemed like it didn’t exist in hell. He was so mesmerized he didn’t even realize a second figure coming to sit next to you. He only realized when you put your phone down and smiled sweetly at the person. Who was this person? Why are you so close together? Why do you look like you’re blushing—? Oh. It’s a date.

As a hopeless romantic, reading Vox x Reader fics and so many of them having some kind of sexual undertone or more mature tone makes me kind of sad. I truly love tooth rotting fluffy romance. Think—picnic in a cherry blossom field while wearing the strawberry dress. So I wanted to write a little (not so little, it kinda got away from me) imagine where Vox’s idea of romance clashes with readers and it ends up only pushing them away. So yeah. Here’s that. I mean no disrespect to everyone’s fics of them tho—trust me they’re delicious in every way possible but I just really need to feed my hopeless sweet romantic side for a bit <3

[mayajadewrites]

── .✦ Renaissance - Levi Ackerman .✦ ──

🪽 ˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳ levi x fem reader

summary: levi leaves you in the underground for the scouts, only for him to find you again in marley when the war is over. however, nothing about you is the same as it once was. you are not the same person you were 12 years ago. cw: canon universe, smut, fluff, yearning ao3 authors note: there are several things in this story that are not canon to the original AOT storyline (like Levi needing a wheelchair) but I will warn you if/when those things come up.

CHAPTER NOTES: slight mentions of smut

tag list: @ackerboi, @staarflowerr, @midw1nter, @glads-stuff, @nxcxllxsevens, @qrhttp, @deniixlovezelda, @midnightwriter21, @levislegislation, @huriareads, @levikeigosdearest, @nikanaka, @richtofensdich, @sickpatientt, @scrumptioussongpainter

preface - chapter one - chapter two - chapter three - chapter four

CHAPTER FIVE

Seeing Levi open the tea shop that he always dreamt of stirred something in you. Seeing him day in and day out servicing the public, trying new teas and cleaning the shop made you feel somewhat at home.

But your walls are still up - it's gonna take more than one conversation for him to tear them down.

As days went on, you would do a daily walks past the shop. Not going in, but just looking through the small window. Some days you didn't see him, only Gabi and Falco.

One day you ventured off to the market, looking at the fresh fruits that were just picked. On the outside, you must look like a woman that's put together, has a home, etc.

But on the inside, you're torn apart. A shred of you is left.

As you lean down, you hear the laughter of children close by. Hearing laughter has become more normal for you, but there were days, no - months where you wouldn't hear it. You relish in the sounds as you turn your head to see where the happiness is coming from.

There you see Levi, kneeling down to the children's level, holding out some candy for them. You smile at the sight, your heart feeling warm as you watch him with the children. He's not soft, by any means, but you can tell he wants to see a smile on their faces.

"Captain Levi! Can I have some candy?" One child, a little girl, laces her hands together and looks up at him, begging for a piece of the delicious treat.

"I've helped teach you manners, no?" His eyebrow raised, a hint of a smirk on his lips.

"Sorry." The little girl fixed her posture, pretending to be serious like him. "Captain Levi, may I please have a piece of candy?"

With a nod, he handed the girl a piece of pink candy, and he was returned with squeals and a hug from her.

You turned your body fully to look at him, watching the little girl hold onto him and embrace him. Levi is not one for physical affection, but he gently laid his hand on her little back before patting it.

The wind picked up slightly, making your dress move in the motion of it as you took a step towards him, wanting to be a part of this moment.

No.

You sigh, turning your back to him, your attention back on the fruit.

As you gather your strawberries and blueberries, you feel the slight touch of someone behind you.

"Have you been avoiding me?" Levi's voice was deep as he stood behind you, his chest slightly pressing to your back.

"Levi -" A sigh leaves your lips as you feel his chest, you can feel the muscles underneath his button down shirt.

"That doesn't sound like a no." He looks in your basket, then adding more fruit to it. "You need to expand your palette. You might turn into a strawberry if you eat as many as you do."

"How do you know I eat a lot of strawberries?" You crane your head slightly to look at him, a frown on your face.

"When we were kids, you always begged me to steal some for you from the market." He chuckled, pushing his hand into his pocket to fish out some money, handing it to the vendor.

"Levi I could've paid for that. You don't need to-"

"I know I don't need to. But I want to."

Turning to face him fully, you see one of the scars on his face is healing nicely. You tilt your chin up to get a better view as your eyes roam his skin. "Your skin is looking better."

He only nods, then looking away as he clears his throat. Levi doesn't like speaking about himself much if at all.

"Have you been avoiding me?" He asks again as he walks side by side with you. "And don't lie."

The truth is, you were. Not because you wanted to necessarily, but because you knew if you saw him every day that you would get used to him again. Used to him being around, taking care of you. But what if he leaves again? What if he disappears?

"I have." Your voice is soft as you look down on the ground, random pebbles at your feet. "You have no idea how scared I am of this, Levi."

"Scared of what?" He gently pulls on your dress, making you stop walking as he looks at you. "Scared of me?"

"Scared of my feelings for you, Levi. Scared of how much I miss you. Scared of how I want a completely different life with you than the one I have."

"Why do those make you scared?"

"Last time I felt like this, you left me. You left me alone for 12 years." You can feel tears fill your eyes, blinking them away. "You left me after I let myself rely on you. I don't know how I'm supposed to act with you now."

A soft sigh leaves his lips as he furrows his eyebrows, unsure of how to convey his thoughts into words.

"I'm not going to give you excuses," His stormy eyes find yours, his fingers gently brushing against your hands before hooking his pinky to yours. A subtle touch. "But I can give you a promise that I won't leave. Not willingly, anyways."

This time you don't move away from him. A tear rolls down your cheek, but Levi's thumb catches it. His voice is so soft when it comes to you, like anything louder would break you.

"I don't know, Levi. I just -"

"Why don't you let me court you then, hm? I never really got the chance to do that before." The thumb that your tear was on is now rubbing soft strokes on your cheek. "I'm not asking for you to forgive me now, or trust me now. But let me try, okay?"

When you look in his eyes, you see the true Levi. The one that is so caring that he would give his life for someone else, just because that would save them. The Levi that remembers every detail about you, no matter how much some of them annoy him.

"If I do let you court me, are you gonna be okay with what I do for work?"

You could see Levi get a bit uncomfortable at the question, but he nods. "I'm okay with whatever you want to do. Do I love it? No. But that can be a later discussion. When you want to talk about it."

"Since when did you get so patient?" You give him a slight smile as you part your lips, leaning into the touch of his thumb on your cheek.

Levi pressed his palm to your cheek, cupping it as he looked in your eyes, his eyes smiling while his lips stay still. "I've had to learn how to be over the years."

Levi didn't break his promise. He did try to court you, taking you out to dinner a couple of nights a week, then dropping you off at the brothel. It was a weird situation, and you know it made him uncomfortable, but you're glad you stood your ground.

When Levi left for the night, you felt empty. Like you couldn't bare to even look at another man and pretend to enjoy their company.

When you would work, you would think of him. Close your eyes and imagine him making love to you instead, kissing you with so much love that you almost burst.

You never enjoyed your job, but now you pretty much hated it.

When your last client leaves for the night, you sit up on your bed feeling empty. A sigh leaves your lips before you stand up to take a shower, wanting to wash away all parts of the night that didn't have anything to do with Levi.

The warm water hits your skin, your body almost rejuvenating itself. Warm showers weren't a common thing in the Underground, and you never understood how people took them for granted. It was honestly your favorite part of the day, when you got to wash off the touches from men who don't deserve their wives, or the men who want to live out some sick fantasy.

As you close your eyes, you think of Levi standing behind you. His large hands pressing to your bare curves, his lips attached to your neck as you wash your body. You find yourself letting out whimpers as you think of him, biting down on your bottom lip to distract yourself.

His bangs would stick to his forehead as his lips traveled from your neck to your shoulder, his hands rubbing the soap into your skin.

Your hand ventures down to your heat, letting out a moan as you begin pleasuring yourself to thoughts of him. Thoughts of Levi's mouth, hands...

Fuck, you need him.

You've never felt like this before with a man, well, besides Levi.

It's always been him.

[badaboomx]

Did I mention... (Bada Lee x Reader)

PAIRING: G!P Bada Lee x Fem!Reader.  SETTING: Underground dancer Bada Lee is quite the popular girl in town and way out of your league. Or so you think. WORDS: 6k PART: 1 of 3

ⓘ  No smut for this part, only delicious build up! Some risque insinuation towards the end.

“Here,” a tall, cool dancer said to you in a low tone, holding a piece of chocolate and offering it to you.

Playfully, you shook your head with a big grin to boot. A nice offer you would take with no hesitation any time, but tonight you felt all kinds of playful after the adventures for the night. 

“Oh?” said the dancer, approaching you and getting so close that you could only back up against the wall now. With chocolate still in hand, she grabbed you from under your jaw with the other. “Open,” she commanded, lowly, that playful smirk still plastered on her face. “Be a good girl and open up.”

It was like butterflies blooming everywhere on your body, tickling skin and making the hairs of your body perk up and sway at the tension. Body against body, the idle sounds of the busy world around you an accompanying piece. Your lips parted, opening for her, and you just watched as she slowly and carefully placed that piece of chocolate in your mouth, but before she could remove her hand you cheekily wrapped your lips around her fingers and sucked them, pulling them out of you, just to watch her expression. Just to hear that reaction from her.

And I bet you wonder how you got here.

Well, let’s go back a few.

Let’s start with the fact that you were so bored you felt you could dislocate your shoulders and have an infinitely better time.  Drunken bodies pushed past you stumbling, making you spill the drink you have not touched since you got it; wild frat boys dared each other to drink more and more with weirder contraptions while a good chunk of the attendees kept within their groups or kept themselves busy with their phones. Or making out with their dates or one-night stands, if not outright fucking but you weren’t here to confirm that. You just… wanted some fun, but that was nowhere to be seen in the sea of students that you cared little for. The music didn’t even blare bombastically from the speakers, a low and chill (but admittedly lame) mix of the most generic copyright free beats found on youtube and it seemed to never end in your perspective. Succinctly put, this party sucked pretty bad. You had been standing there on the corner effectively for two hours and all conversation you tried to have failed immensely for a variety of reasons we don’t even have time to recount. 

What a way to kick off your exciting new life, huh?

The first party you’ve gotten invited to and it has turned out to be a waste of time – and a waste of a good outfit. Being new in town had its drawbacks, and they seemed to outweigh the pros of getting to meet new people and starting over fresh. What a damn shame. At one point, you just left that cup half full and slithered away before any drunk dude tried to talk you into staying in the party. Surprisingly, slipping out felt not only like you were a lame party pooper, but like you suddenly had the spotlight with several people pointing out that you were leaving and even asking what’s up. What a goddamn nightmare.

“I have never seen more dead people in a party,” you said jokingly to your roommate, Lee Seoyoung, who was dressing up for a party of her own and was willing to listen to you vent before she went out.

“I warned you,” she tutted. “Those people are only entertained by booze and you don’t even like alcohol all that much.”

With a sigh, you plopped down on the couch, still dressed to the nines. “Is my new life here going to be a bore just like at home?”

“No,” Seoyoung began. “I told you that you can tag along with me tonight, you idiot,” she said so casually as she was putting on her shoes.  

You sighed, sitting back up. The idea seemed good, more fun than whatever the fuck was the party you just escaped. Still, you had your doubts. “It just doesn’t feel like my scene, I don’t wanna stick out and be bothersome for you.”

“You’re just scared to check it out,” Seoyoung poked, teasing you. 

And you couldn't really deny that. It did intimidate you a bit. Mostly because Seoyoung explained before that this party was some sort of underground party. Music, dancing, live performances and battles, all unlike the frat boy disaster. It didn’t seem like your scene, you know? As described by Seoyoung (Or, well, Lusher as she was called in her dancer circle), these people were pretty cool, sounded tough as nails and – somewhere in your irrational part of your brain – sounded like they would tease you out of the place. To boot, this party was only attended by those who were IN and knew it was happening. That alone sounds exclusive, like you have to earn your way in.

But you technically had, you just lucked out in working for it as much.

Seoyoung – er, Lusher – stood up and grabbed you by the wrist and pulled. “Up, we’re going.”

“But Luuuushh–.”

“Just check it out for today, then if you don’t really like it you can just not go, deal?” Lusher insisted with a pout of her own.

And you couldn’t say no to your roommate that has been nothing but an angel to you as a new arrival. So, you accepted, letting Lusher drag you out of your cocoon and open an exciting world to you.

The guy guarding the front door was intimidating at first glance, but upon seeing you and Lusher approach his demeanor changed to an enthusiastic and friendly one. Lusher greeted him and told him you were tagging along with her for the night. 

“She’s new in town,” Lusher patted your back.

“She looks like it,” the guy teased, pointing at your eyes. “She looks like a scared puppy.”

And he was not wrong, but once it was brought up, you tried your best not to look like it. With encouragement from Lusher and the guy, he let you both in. A well lit hallway with some party goers chilling away from the crowded party and the music to perhaps chat more calmly, yet it was as intimidating as anything. You felt as if they discreetly stared at you, judgmentally, when in reality they only looked curiously and moved on. It was hard to get out of that headspace, so new to something like this in an already new town. 

Walking down the hall with Lusher was equally nerve wrecking, feeling the muffled music grow a little louder with every step. Turning the corner, walking down another hall, the music now engulfing you with its catchy rhythm, the door opening to you and revealing a very vibrant, moved party with great music coming off proper speakers. An actual crowd of people danced, while another chunk of the crowd hung out, either standing or sitting elsewhere. It felt and looked different, even the atmosphere was different. No fancy lightings, no fancy decorations or structure – just a repurposed warehouse with plenty of space that has been cleverly remodeled with little budget. It looked and felt like one of those underground party places in movies and music videos.

“Cool, right?” Lusher said loudly, making herself clear atop the chatting crowd and the dance music. 

You were almost overwhelmed, looking at her still looking like a lost puppy.

“C’mon, it’s less intimidating than it looks,” Lusher insisted and tugged you along, making both of your ways deeper into the heart of the party. 

You weren’t sure if Lusher was just saying this to make you feel better or if it was truly as she said. Either way, you stuck close to her and nearly clung to her hand for dear life as you traversed through the confusing mass of bodies. Some people even greeted her, acknowledging her with a cool tilt of their head, an enthusiastic shout, or a secret handshake. A fascinating world where everyone was familiar with one another to some extent at least, you surely felt like you stuck out. 

“Yo, Lusher!” one of the party goers greeted. “Bringing a girlfriend along at last, huh?”

Lusher laughed and shook her head. “Nah, not this time. She’s my new roomie.”

“Sweet!” the stranger said, looking at you up and down. “She looks like a scared puppy–.”

“Yeah, I’m breaking her in,” Lusher quickly rebutted, trying not to dwell on you lest you become more scared. “Hey, where are my girls?”

“Ah, I’ve only seen Bada and Tatter,” they looked around and pointed towards the corner of the warehouse – a place filled with booths and other seats. “There they are.”

“Thanks,” Lusher and the stranger did a handshake that you have no idea how was possible and bid farewell, heading towards the elusive location. 

En route to meet the so-called ‘girls’ you heard someone pick up the mic and start talking, getting the crowd to holler and shout. It was so overwhelming, passing through masses of people you didn’t recognize and listening to whatever the person was trying to say while clinging to Lusher’s hand. God, maybe this wasn’t your scene after all.

Then, you saw them.

“Ah, there they are,” Lusher shouted, pointing at them for you to see them. And you have never felt more nervous. “That’s Tatter,” Lusher pointed to a girl in blonde with a resting bitch face who was casually chatting up to… 

“And that’s Bada,” Lusher pointed to a woman whose aura was imposing and intimidating. It took you a second to truly take in who you were observing, even while Lusher was dragging you up to meet them.

Bada, whoever that woman was, looked as intimidating as the word itself. A brunette – wait, two-toned, brunette with blonde streaks – donning a black beanie, matching black baggy pants, and a gray hoodie with a cool design down the arms. Even when talking to someone she seemed to know she exuded an air of coolness you could only describe as imposing. By presence alone, you couldn’t tell if she was a rapper or a dancer but you were certain that she was a performer, as if you could feel that she was born to be on stage.

It made you nervous.

Especially when she turned to watch you and Lusher fast approaching, tapping Tatter and pointing to watch. Tatter jumped off her seat first and Bada slowly followed, a lot more relaxed than Tatter who seemed to be anxious to talk to Lusher. In comparison to Tatter and Lusher, Bada was a giant too. Broad shouldered, lanky and tall. All the makings for a menacing person who could devour you in a second. Yet, upon greeting Lusher with a hug, she smiled ever so slightly.

Now you didn’t know exactly how to feel.

“Glad to see you made it,” Bada said, patting Lusher’s head.

“I can’t just miss a party,” Lusher pulled away and looked back at you, pulling you in closer. “Here’s my new roomie, you remember I told you about her?”

Bada looked at you for a moment that seemed to stretch on and on. Confusing feelings bubbled in your gut, waiting for Bada to do or say something – anything – as you stood there like a fish out of water. Finally, while Lusher was giving Tatter a hug, Bada stretched out her hand to you. “You’re the new face, right?”

You nodded, then tentatively gave her hand a shake.

“You look like a scared puppy, you know that?” Bada said, a subtle smirk coming to her lip. 

“Yeah…” And for some reason, hearing it from her made… your heart flutter. 

Tatter and Lusher quickly got engulfed in a conversation of their own, gossip taking the wheels above manners really, and Bada – having noted this – got closer to you.  

“Never been to a party like this before, have you?” 

“Is it too obvious?” You looked up at Bada, who kept eyeing you curiously, like you were someone from a different planet. Yet, it wasn’t ever rude, just boldly inquisitive. “Yeah, we didn’t have these in my town, I think.”

“That you knew of,” Bada shrugged, slipping her hands into the pockets of her sweatpants. “We don’t bite though, baby. You’ll be fine.”

Baby…? Ah, something like that was not something you heard often. You would generally find it condescending or patronizing, but coming out of Bada? It was almost heavenly, and you didn’t even want to feel that way! You can’t just get nervous and charmed this easily. You sighed out and scratched your head. “I don’t know, you people here look pretty tough,” you paused, looking at her. “And hungry.”

A soft chuckle came out with a smirk, Bada looked around at the crowd around all of you. “Half of these people are mushy for the right things, don’t worry about it.”

That made you curious. Even if you hesitated in the question, you let it out anyways. “Are you like that, too?”

Bada kept quiet for a second, the ghostly essence of a smirk still there on her lips as she shrugged. So cool, like she was tacitly telling you that you wouldn’t know – and you would only find out if she wanted you to. That silence was far from awkward, it was rather refreshing, like Bada wasn’t afraid of silence (or, well, silence between the two of you, considering there was a whole party going on behind you). And she wasn’t afraid of looking at you in the eye as she let the silence flow. Warmth started to spread on your cheeks, painting your face a shade of pink and tell-taling how you were feeling about Bada staring at you like that.  

“Bada?” 

You and Bada turned to see Lusher and Tatter. 

“I need to talk to Tatter alone for a second, can you watch over my roomie?” 

You stood up straight the second you heard that. Was she really just going to leave you like that? 

Bada nodded. “I’ll take care of her, you do what you need to do,” she said like she was a leader, concisely and firmly – like she was a reliable person and could take care of it. Perhaps it was a bit of a late connection, but it had dawned on you then as Lusher and Tatter walked away that you were standing in front of Lusher’s dance crew leader, and her mentor.

The tall woman looked at them walk away, just to know where they were heading off, while you looked up at Bada with this brand new perspective. And you were getting a little more nervous. 

Lusher had spoken to you briefly about her dance team and her leader, but not by name. What you knew about this elusive leader was that she was quite the popular lady among the dancer and rapper circle. A once-rapper that fell in love with dancing and switched specialties, now fully a dancer that battles occasionally and competes with others in tournaments. She’s considered quite a competent battler and a very talented dancer (and choreographer) and quite the ladies magnet. You didn’t quite know why for that last one, but it made you nervous.

“Yo,” Bada said, pulling you out of your own thoughts with a snap close to your eyes. 

You looked up at her again, gulping and hoping she didn’t hear or notice that.

“You okay over there?” She merely asked.

You cleared your throat and tried so hard to play it cool. “Y-yeah!”

Bada looked at you in silence, face completely impassive before she chuckled a little. “C’mon, sit down.”

You went to do just that, trying to hide the fact that you felt your knees weak enough to give in at any second. But you soon sat down, facing the big moving crowd full of life. Bada had taken her seat near you but at an arm’s length, grabbing a bottle from the table before placing her feet on it casually. You can hear your parents saying that’s a rude gesture, but you can’t help but to find it very… familiar, casual, even cool. 

Then silence, at least between the two of you. You couldn’t really be as comfortable as Bada seemed to be, and you felt your palms sweating already, and you could tell Bada was staring at you. As if she was waiting to see how long it’ll be until you said something to break up the ice. Amused by you, perhaps, or maybe secretly getting a kick out of making you just a bit nervous. 

“So,” you broke first, pouting a bit. If you were going to be stuck with her for the time being, might as well try to get to know her, right? You thought to ask her something about herself, and so you began.

 “You…” 

But you trailed off, looking at Bada. 

That woman was just… staring at you, patiently waiting for you to continue but you couldn’t really keep your mind away from getting distracted as you saw the woman upon closer inspection. Her wide, full lips donning a strikingly pink tone, almost beckoning for you to touch them or to feel them on your body; her nose lovingly sculpted in harmony with her eyes. The way she looked at you, with her facial expression still neutral, made you wonder what she was thinking at that moment. By the time she spoke, nothing in her face changed. Just a blink of her eyes.

“I…?” Bada prodded, trying to get you to say what you wanted.

“Uhh,” you nervously rubbed your neck. What was it that you were gonna ask her? Damn it, you couldn’t remember. 

Bada chuckled a bit. “We got time before they come back, don’t worry.”

The levity made you smile shyly at her. “Sorry.”

Bada shrugged, taking a sip from her drink before she spoke again. “I don’t mind. At least you’re not pretending to be above us or cool.”

“P-people do that a lot?” You stammered out against your better judgment, but genuinely curious about it.

“Oh yeah. Especially to me,” Bada instantly replied. “You’re doing good so far.”

That made you feel better, and a little less nervous.

But before the silence could sit, Bada up and asked you a question herself. “What brings you here if this isn’t your scene?”

You shrugged. “I was at a frat party before this. It sucked.”

“Yeah,” Bada laughed, leaning back and resting her arm on the top of the booth’s cushion. So laid back, comfortable, but still keeping her distance. “Lusher told me those guys over there don’t know how to party at all.”

Her laugh was nice, you wanted to hear it again. Not realizing it, you scooted closer to her as you spoke, feeling somehow magnetically pulled now. “It’s not the first time?”

Bada shook her head. “Nah, it’s been something Lusher learned real quick when she enrolled there.”

“Guess I learned too,” you said, glancing at her and noticing that she’s… eyeing you. Up and down, like she’s analyzing you now that she’s close enough. You tried not to let that get to your nerves. “I-I just wanted to have a fun night, meet the place I’m gonna live in for a while, make friends, you know?”

Well, you stammered a little but you finished the sentence.

Bada nodded, sympathetic but not saying anything for a second.

“And this isn’t my scene, b-but Lusher insisted and I think she’s so cool. You guys are cool too, but you people scare me, you just seem so tough and–.”

Bada chuckled then, putting her hand up to stop you from speaking more. “Calm down, puppy. I got you.”

You blushed in embarrassment, tightly pressing your lips together as if to stop you from screwing this up more somehow. 

Bada just looked at you though, an unmistakable glimpse of fondness so palpable in her eyes at the way she looked at you. “Do I scare you?” Emphasis on the I.

Yes. Yes. Oh my god, yes. She scared you in a way that was so exciting you couldn’t even put it into words. She fascinated you so much, like a brand new story unraveling before you. Lips parted, you were ready to say something. 

But words weren’t coming out.

Bada was willing to wait patiently, seriously curious, but a tapping on her shoulder brought her out of the conversation. You could almost sense a vague annoyance in her eyes before she turned to see who it was.

“You busy, Bada?” A stranger, someone who barely acknowledged you.

“I’m totally free right now,” Bada said firmly, but you could tell there was a twinge of sarcasm sprinkled on top of it. “What is it?”

“We need you to take the stage for a second, the guys playing after the DJ are caught on some fucking traffic, can you believe it?”

Bada nodded slowly, like she barely cared. “Crazy,” she slowly looked over to you. “Traffic on a Saturday night, can you believe it?”

You had to stop yourself from smiling and giggling at Bada’s reaction to this sudden request.

“We already got someone but we also–.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Bada waved her hand and stood up, getting the guy to be quiet. “Explain it to me on the way there,” she then looked at you, leaning in so she doesn’t have to shout over the music. “I’ll be back in a snappy, you be a good girl and wait here.”

That sent shivers down your spine. It was a direct command, full with a nickname to get your legs turning into jelly. You could only look at her and nod rapidly, hypnotized, probably looking like a scared little puppy. 

With that, Bada walked away with the guy. Confident, chin tilted up, leading the way for the guy who kept yapping. Just by watching her walk away you felt so insecure, and it didn’t take long for you to notice it. Like suddenly the support beam that was Bada (and by extension Lusher) was ripped out from under you. So, you remained seated like the good girl you were.

To distract yourself, you wondered what exactly was Bada going to do on stage. Curiosity built up more and more, considering Bada was the leading lady of a dance crew and if Bada was so popular, she had to be good right?

The DJ finished his set and bid farewell for the night, introducing two last-minute hosts to fill the stage (and stretch the time) and entertain the already hyped crowd. The crowd welcomed Bada and an equally tough looking lady with warm applause and cheers. Soon enough, you understood what was that magnetism that Bada seemed to have on people. Her charismatic presence was palpable even on stage; from the way she held the microphone, the way she walked around on stage like she was born on it and owned it, to the way she interacted with the other host and the audience. So smoothly, like there was no one watching. 

Her true power came on when both hosts decided to host a little impromptu battle against each other. Lyrically and physically. By physical I mean dancing, this isn’t a fight club. Though you were sure that Bada knew of an underground fight club somewhere. First, they both duked it out on a freestyle rap. Frankly, you couldn’t even hear what they were saying, observing the crowd gather closer and cheer for the punchlines that both girls were throwing out there. You were just in awe watching Bada’s passion for this art form, the way she spoke to the microphone and the attractive vein on her already attractive neck, the gestures she made like it was second nature to her–.

Oh you looked like an idiot didn’t you? Jaw dropped, leaning in, absolutely enwrapped in the spectacle.

The crowd decided and after a neck and neck battle Bada lost this part of the battle. The face-off wasn’t over, though. Soon enough, a hard hitting instrumental blasted through the speakers, its rhythm instantly infecting both girls on stage immediately. The winner of the last round went first, and you were impressed by the way they could even move their body. Hell, you didn’t even know half of that was possible. But then, Bada was up.

“Hey, what’s up?” Lusher said, coming out from wherever her and Tatter went. However, she took one good look at your flabbergasted face and looked at the stage. Then, she just nodded and sat beside you, observing Bada tear up the stage.

And tear it up she did. That woman was a force to be reckoned with, able to be smooth and rough, fast or slow – even go from intimidating and hard hitting to sensual and flirty. The way she moved her hips was so exquisite, full of vigor and flavor and you couldn’t help a tiny little gasp coming out of you; the way she had such a control over her body and how her popping looked so powerful and like it could break the floor. So easy flowing, so confident… No wonder there was such a craze for this woman. It even explained Lusher’s pride on having a dance crew with her, like she was the cool mentor figure you want on your side for battles.

The crowd went wild, the other dancer even had to laugh at the ingenuity of some of Bada’s moves, so this round was unmistakably Bada’s win in the bag. Just in time, too, seeing as the next performer had arrived and was ready to take the stage themselves. Bada and her impromptu co-host both came off the stage and your eyes couldn’t stop following Bada – who was quickly swarmed by people congratulating her, greeting her, and you could even notice some girls come up to her to… well, you didn’t know. All you knew is that even from afar, you could tell some of them wanted to stick around Bada for the rest of the night, and you thought for a second that Bada would ditch you to stick around people who seemed to be more confident and cooler. Yet, Bada excused herself politely and moosey’d on over to where you and the girls were sitting.

Wait, you and the girls?

You woke up from your little trance and looked at Lusher and Tatter who were gossiping and giggling like you weren’t there. It wasn’t until the brunette noticed you that she smacked the blonde on the leg and both exaggeratedly pretended to look innocently at you. 

“What are you guys doing?” you asked, leaning and trying to tune out the music and the talking coming from the stage.

“Oh nothing,” Tatter began, fixing her hair.

“Just talking about how you look like you’ve never seen people dance,” Lusher said boldly, earning a gasp from Tatter who smacked her in return. “What? It’s the truth.”

“S-shut up–. I was just watching Bada dance!” You replied defensively, as if hoping they hadn’t watched you gobsmacked for the entire battle.

In response, both Lusher and Tatter opted to imitate how you looked – and at the sheer timing of them doing it perfectly in sync, bursted out laughing together, complete with claps and smacking each other.

You just had to sit there and take it, even if it was making you blush with embarrassment. Internally you panicked a little, seeing Bada bid farewell to the people who were walking with her and walking up towards you. She looked at you and in that moment it felt like everything was in slow motion. And that made you blush harder. 

“Hey girls,” Bada said, looking at Lusher and Tatter still recovering from their laughing fit. “C’mon, my dancing wasn’t that bad,” she jumped in, jokingly.

“No, no, no, it’s not that,” Lusher and Tatter said in unison, shaking their heads and hands.

Bada looked at you, pointing at the two dopeys with her head. “What are they laughing about then?”

“At me, watching you,” you said honestly, not daring to look at her.

Bada didn’t question that, as if she already knew what had happened. You didn’t notice or know, but she was staring at you, eyes squinting a little bit and discerning that faint pink on your cheeks. Either way, she sat nearest to you. “I’m sorry, duty called.”

You bravely looked at her and shook your head. “I-It’s okay. I a-actually wanted to see you dance.”

At that, Bada looked like she wanted to ask something, but opted out of it. Maybe it was to reiterate the question of whether or not you were scared of her. Instead, the question that came out was.

“How was it then? Did you like it?”

Are you scared of me?

“It was really cool,” you said.

And yes you were scared of how much this woman rocked your world.

Oh, she was rocking your world and you could feel your knees about to give in at any moment. But if your knees gave out now, you would only fall against Bada’s moving body. It was inevitable that at one point the girls would get up and go dance, but you didn’t expect them to not only drag you, but to drag Bada along to dance with you.

“Guys, I don’t know how to dance–.”

But Lusher didn’t seem to care, and Bada seemed to care even less.

You, fish out of water that can barely dance, paired with the smoke bomb that was Bada. A cruel joke, you felt, but Bada didn’t seem to have troubles with leading you and teaching you. With the patience of a saint, Bada leads you into what should really be a sensual dance together. Yet, it was filled with shy smiles from you and encouraging smiles from her. When your confidence in it grew, you moved with intent and Bada noticed. 

At this, she directly spoke to your ear. “See, you have it in you,” it was soft encouragement, a hand carefully placed on your tummy as she got into it as well. You could understand then why the girls enjoyed doing this, just drifting to the music was fun, being this close to someone attractive made you feel so much more confident and excited. With the way Bada looked at you here and there, you found yourself intoxicated by her presence like many of the other girls who were crushing madly on her. Ah, you could understand them, you could understand the desperate need to make a move.

But you couldn’t. Not when you felt something interesting when grinding against Bada, your hands instinctively landing on Bada’s thighs upon feeling it. A surprise, for sure, but a very… fascinating one.

You almost second guessed whether or not you felt it and wanted to check again, but when Bada slowed down to a halt it became clear. Clarified further by that groan to your ear coming from Bada. “Fuck,” like she didn’t expect that herself.

But before any of you both could do anything, the music came to an end. The person holding the microphone babbled away while Lusher approached you and Bada, taking advantage of the moment to talk to you both.

“Yo, we should get going. It’s getting a bit too late.”

You were a little flabbergasted, it showed a little on your face when you looked back at Bada. But Bada looked at you with that same composed look, yet she softly apologized. 

“Sorry about that,” and it was just for you to hear. But loudly and firmly, she responded to Lusher. “Let me drive you home.”

The sea of meaningless words kept clashing into each other and creating nonsense as you kept reading. God, studying was no use right now. In your mind there was only something running around endlessly and that was Bada. 

You couldn’t stop thinking of the ride back home from yesterday. Bada cooly driving everyone, unfazed by what had just happened between the two of you. You were on the passenger seat, looking at her discreetly and noting – at least in the beginning –  that subtle, tell-tale bulge. A bulge that soon enough dissipated, as if Bada put it under control. It fascinated you, seeing as you hadn’t noticed before that moment, but above all what fascinated you was how casual she was about it. And how she seemed to notice you staring every now and then. Responsibly, of course, she didn’t keep her eyes off the road when the car was moving even for an inch, but when slowing down to a stop to drop off Tatter, Bada looked at you and noticed you already were staring. Against your better judgment, you didn’t look away, instead you locked gazes with her while Tatter gathered her things to hop off. And in that brief moment you both looked at each other, she… smirked. 

Like she knew why you were staring at her for starters, like she was going to talk to you about it at one point. Just not that night.

But you couldn’t feel the same certainty and confidence you felt then. Not after waking up the next morning and realizing you were probably way out of her league, the bits of liquid confidence that tasted like hellish alcohol dissipating from your system.

Now, studying was impossible and your mind was restless. 

Lusher was also sprawled across her bed, the book just covering her face. She was exhausted by the night before and struggling to study for different reasons. But she was more confused as to why YOU were struggling. You had been a studious kind of reader, a better student than her in the short amount of time you were her roomie. So, she grabbed the book, closed it and found enjoyment somewhere else.

Poking your brain for a second, figuring you out.

“Can’t study either, huh?” She asked first, her voice breaking the heavy silence. 

“Nope,” you replied, forehead to textbook now. “Not at all.”

“Last night wasn’t THAT wild though,” Lusher said. “I thought you avoided drinking that much for the same reason.”

You sighed and opted to lay face up, closing the book. “It’s not the drinking.”

Lusher looked confused. “Then, what is it?”

You really had no idea how to even begin explaining it, or if you should even tell your roommate that the leader of her dance crew was the one thing consistently on your mind. “I… I don’t know.”

Lusher squinted, her brain starting to function. “I thought you had fun, you look like you’re hungover more than anything.”

“No, believe me. I had a lot of fun, it was great! But…”

Is it too corny to say you were hungover from the rapid growth of a crush? A crush who you danced with and had in your space all night? Definitely felt like you were yearning for her to start with, like you needed to be near her to survive. Ugh! Stupid feeling, you hated it and its very silly side effects. You truly couldn’t word this to Lusher in a way that was logical or anything, so you gave yourself the moment of silence to try to come up with something.

That silence was more than enough for Lusher to click things together. She may not be good for studying, but gossip is her Ph.D and life. It dawned on her and while she was still piecing things together, she gasped out. “Oh my god,” she excitedly slid to the edge of her bed. “It’s Bada, isn’t it?”

Your eyes shut open wide and looked at her. “N-no?”

“Oh you’re lying,” Lusher pointed at you, breaking out into laughter.

You were blushing all over again, grabbing your pillow and covering it – almost as if to smother yourself to get away from embarrassment. 

“Aw, c’mon, I don’t blame you!” Lusher insisted, skipping over to the edge of your bed. “Don’t be embarrassed, Bada is quite the looker.”

You groaned into the pillow and Lusher grabbed it away from you, giggling. “She’s… so pretty.”

“Yeah,” Lusher nodded. “She’s also really hot, isn’t she?”

“Lusher, she’s your leader.” “So? I can find my friends hot,” Lusher shrugged. “Like Tatter is hot. And Bada IS hot, you can’t deny it.”

You rolled your eyes, but couldn’t help but to smile at that. “Yes.”

“Aha!” Lusher snapped her fingers. “Then wait,” she calmed down a bit. “Why were you so dejected just now? Aren’t you supposed to be like… giddy about it?”

You shook your head. “I am, but… Y’know. I talked to her a lot and she was so fascinating to me, like there’s a lot to learn about her. And we even danced and all but… Bada is out of my league.”

Lusher wanted to slap you and you could tell. “She spent the entire night with you, you idiot.”

“Which her heartbreaker type can do,” you reasoned, raising a finger matter of factly. 

Lusher was about to retort, but thought it through for a second. “She used to, not so much anymore.”

“See?”

“Okay but,” Lusher insisted, trying to defend her leader now. “She doesn’t do that and I think she respects that we’re roommates to even try that, okay?”

You couldn’t give a rebuttal to that.

Lusher adjusted in her seat. “Besides, when she was done dancing with you she looked like she needed some fresh air. Like you rocke–.” Lusher stopped abruptly and gasped, hitting your arm playfully. “Tatter was right!”

You were trying to get away from her smacks. “Wh-what, stop that!”

“Oh my god,” Lusher giggled, trying to lower her voice a bit. “Tatter mentioned that when she saw Bada take us to her car, she saw Bada a little flustered, trying to hide her–.” Lusher looked around, then whispered away. “Her hard on.”

You gulped, looking at the ceiling and not daring to keep eye contact with your roommate. 

“Listen, Bada doesn’t get hard-ons like that ever,” Lusher insisted, hitting the mattress repeatedly. “Ne-ver. I’ve seen her dance with so many people! She has been grinded on plenty of times, and believe me even I danced with her once. I have never seen her have a hard-on. Which, I will admit, did wound my ego just a bit,” dramatic pause for Lusher to place her hand on her chest. “But Bada has never gotten hard.”

You rubbed your arm. “M-maybe Tatter misunderstood–.”

“That girl has 20/20 vision and can see ants running on the ground, I doubt she would not notice,” Lusher said way too excited. “This is good gossip, oh my god.”

You covered your face. “Stoooop, it still doesn’t mean anything.”

“Yes, it does. It means you affected her a little, enough to catch her off guard. Bada doesn’t just get flustered like that, not in all the while I’ve known her,” Lusher insisted, as hopeful as you should be. “I don’t care if she’s out of your league or whatever, if you like her and she likes you back, give it a try. You already got her once, right?”

Lusher does have a point. What gives if Bada is out of your league? Why not just try it and see where it goes? Why not just chase after the woman who already seems to pay particular attention to you?

Why not?

[treedaddymcpuffpuff]

ACITHYCS.

“a crack in the heart you call stone” (john wick/fem reader)

Running away from John Wick is never a good idea. TW: nsfw, noncon, dead dove, abuse, violence, power dynamics except the reader doesn’t have any power, smacking, spanking, choking, rough, awful shit. Your assassin sweetheart is not sweet in this. He’s fucked in the head, but I mean it is your fault.

It was a really, really, really.

Really. 

Bad fucking idea. 

Bad fucking idea to turn cottontail and run away in the night. 

Run from him.

But you did, didn’t you? Maybe because you didn’t realize what a stupid decision you were making, maybe because you were too scared to stay, maybe because you didn’t know what else to do. 

Maybe because running away from monsters is the standard of sane and you needed to prove that you were not crazy. 

“That’s bullshit,” you know he’d say, “your decisions are your own and you will deal with their consequences.”

And, oh fuck, you haven’t heard his voice in so long - that sweet honey heroin aphrodisiac infused growl - but somehow little drops of it still sit sticky inside your ears. 

Your cotton panties feel uncomfortable and clingy, and you have to squirm several times in your seat to pull fabric from damp folds. 

That’s the worst part, the one that makes you want to put a 9 mm barrel in your mouth because surely - guaranteed - you’re sick in the head for almost - ha, who are you kidding - for definitely - wanting him to find you. 

Insane after all, even through the trouble to prove otherwise. 

You shouldn’t get out of the cab, you shouldn’t walk upstairs to your apartment, you shouldn’t open the already unlocked door, you shouldn’t start curling your toes and burning when you see him casually sitting at your dining table, drinking a cold beer and eating leftover pizza. Like he just belongs here, in the life you picked specifically void of him.

He ignores you, favoring the newspaper clutched in his fist, munching and relaxing and as handsome as any husband should strive to be.

You take the chair opposite from him and press your thighs together in anticipation of that involuntary, awful clench of your cunt when his broody eyes meet yours. You try to rest your hands on the table, but pull them back into your lap when you notice they are visibly shaking. 

“John.” You’re surprised you can talk through the saliva filling your mouth. 

“Hello, honey,” he says, then kicks the table out of the way and muffles your scream with the loud crash into the kitchen counter. No barrier between the two of you now - really, you’re a fucking idiot to think anything could keep this beautiful, horrifying human wrecking ball away from you - and he fists the loose fabric dress over your tummy and tugs you forward. 

“You know what happens now?” He asks, terrifying you with a smile. 

You blink owlishly up at him, tears globbing on your bottom lashes, body shaking violently, and ask: “wh-what?” 

Instead of answering, he grabs your throat, takes you off your feet and slams you - not gently - against the wall. Picture frames smash to the ground, scatter glass over the linoleum. One minute you’re breathing, and the next you’re wondering what delicious air even tastes like.

You claw at his hands, face swelling up and turning a shade of beautiful blue that grabs his cocks attention - the length of him fattens up against your tummy and he grinds into your soft, plump skin, hard and unforgiving. 

There’s black hellfire in his eyes, a dark promise to make you sorry for your miserable little John-free existence, and, for a second, you resign to the notion that he is going to keep his iron grip around your suffocating throat until you pass out. Your vision is already blurring and darkening, claws scratching pitifully at his arms. A little woodland creature in a big bear trap. 

But, he lets you go, dropping you right on the hard floor, and you land on your ass, gasping for air, face soaked from tears, dress ripped down the middle. He jams his pointy shoe in between your legs, pressing the tip into your cunt, hurting you. 

“John, please,” you whimper through grit teeth, trying to push his leg away and only getting a big black dress shoe crushing your pussy as reward. 

Your head flips back, neck craning just enough to put agonizing tension on your scalp and spine. His fist nets what feels like every tearing hair on your head, and you can’t help but screech in pain. 

“Please,” he repeats, voice eerily calm even as he’s shoving his fingers down your throat and making you choke. He pulls out and leaves thick white spit dripping onto your pouty lips and chin. He smears the excess on your cheek and smiles down at you - almost lovingly - “you’re begging already? Fucking pathetic.” His foot digs deeper into you and you let out a cry, proving his point. You are pathetic. 

“Oh, I missed this tight little cunt,” he sighs and closes his eyes as if talking to himself. “Thought about her every fucking day.” 

“John, I’m sorry, I-“ 

“Shut up.” He slaps you on the cheek, hard enough to leave a big red welt, then lugs you up by your hair. He doesn’t bother to move his leg, so your bare skin scrapes raw on the rough fabric of his pants. “The only thing that’s gonna come out of that pretty mouth from now on is ‘yes, John.’”

He spins you around, manhandles you onto the counter, presses his cock into the cotton of your panties and slaps your ass harder than he had done to your face. He watches your plump jiggle and retract, wets his lips, grunts. “Did you hear me, babydoll?” He slaps the same spot, and you yelp and claw at the counter. 

“Yes, John.” The phone is right beside your head, you see the screen light up with worried texts from your friends, asking if you’re home yet. You could try and pick it up, call someone, dial 911, but this is John, and you know there’s not a chance in hell you could touch that phone without him crushing it in one grip. 

“Oh?” He sees where your eyes are, of course he does. He’s a fucking lethal predator, and you’re just a stupid girl. “You wanna call somebody to come save you? Do it. Call them. But you’re gonna watch attentively while I kill them all, I can promise you that, honey.”

Fat wet tears run down your cheeks and puddle on the counter. You can’t help but feel partially responsible for the crazed, lightless black fire in his eyes. The way he’s completely gone and fucked in the head. No, not partially. This is all your fault. You drove him to madness, left him with a broken heart that turned black and rotten over time, and now you’re gonna deal with the repercussions. 

He grinds up against your cunt and ass, so smashed in that you feel his plump cock head chafing your clit. He tugs on your hair to bring your face off the counter. “My little cry baby’s gonna be sobbing a lot more often, now.” He tsks as if disappointed. 

He slaps your ass for a good bit, alternating each cheek, using the tips of his fingers to make the sting unbearable. You almost move your hands to cover the raw red skin, but he tugs your head back harshly in warning. 

You whimper and put your hands back on the cool counter, wishing it was your ass instead - the tissue is on fire, a new level of burning every time his hand meets your flesh. 

His palm is worse than his fingertips. It’s a throbbing pain that shoots over your back, legs, and tummy, and he gets you screaming with a big, ruthless swing. Screaming and crying and kicking your feet and biting your lip hard enough to taste pennies. 

Sharp slaps on your plump little cunt turn you into a sobbing, begging wreck of a human. Then, he pulls your panties to the side and pinches your burning labia, tugging and stretching, making it snap and swell. 

“She missed my cock, huh? How many times did you try and fail to fill her up?” 

He unzips himself and pushes his pants and boxers down, then jams his massive cock into your unprepared hole and you wail into the counter. 

“How could you fucking do this to this to her?” he laments with a snarl, thrusting into you with shattering, slow slams. 

You try and nudge yourself onto the counter to get his raging tip away from your cervix, but he pulls you farther down on him instead and starts taking what he wants, hard and unforgiving, hair fisted in his hand so that your back arches for his cock to pound deeper into you.

“John. Please. I can- can’t. Fuck. Too much. It hurts.”

He smacks your ass with palm again, only this time latching to your skin, fisting a pound of flesh and fat. That familiar flop flop flop of your body accommodating his intrusion tells you that you’re soaking his dick and making it easier for him to fuck you harder. Traitorous fucking whore. 

“What did I say?” He asks you, that poised voice cracking into growls and grunts and groans, slick with impending orgasm. 

You don’t answer soon enough, and he digs further into your ass with blunt nails. You feel like he’s going to rip the meat right off your body. 

“Yes, John.” But he doesn’t let go. He doesn’t let up. He gets meaner, lifting your feet up off the ground and your head impossibly higher in the air, making so the only thing holding you up is his brutal cock. You feel fucking impaled. 

You’re helpless, trapped, humiliated, and all you can do is take the rough slap of his pelvis against your abused skin. When he reaches down and pushes his fingers into your swollen lips to find your clit, you can’t help but hate yourself for enjoying this - this consuming fire spreading, overtaking, the choice to orgasm from this brutality ripped away from you as he rubs and fucks you toward blinding, white hot release. 

He leans over you, puts one foot on the counter beside your ass to give him an impossibly deeper angle that reads like his cock is in your womb. 

With all senses overwhelmed by excruciating pleasure - an impending orgasm that’s going that’s going to wreck you - the only thing you can really do is cry and take it until he decides to baste your burning cervix in cum. 

It’s immediately spurting from you, coating your thighs, his legs, dripping pearly rivulets onto the floor. He replaces his dick with two fingers, wrenching away any hope of release, gathers some fluid and brings it up to the only unstained place - your asshole. He costs the outer tissue, pushes two fingers in and curls them down, rubs at your delicate insides harshly. 

“Think you can handle my cock in your ass, Mrs. Wick?” He leaves two fingers inside your anus and pushes his thumb into your snapping, gaping, runny cunt. You push back onto his finger, trying to fuck the almost orgasm free from your aching hole. 

John snorts as if to laugh at this whorish attempt. 

“Tell you what, I’ll give you two choices: I shove my dick into your ass and fuck it as hard as I want til’ I cum again. Or. I spend a few hours prepping you to take my cock. What do you think?”

“Need a break,” you mumble, fresh tears rolling down your cheeks in shiny rivulets. 

He smacks your thigh. “That wasn’t an option, honey.”

“Okay… okay.” Your frantic, hissing tone makes him smile for the first time in a long while… For the first time since you ran away from him and left a sobbing, drunk, blood hungry mess of a man on the kitchen floor; surrounded by glass and blood and splintered wood, screaming, smashing everything in the house to tiny pieces. You don’t know how many people have died terrible deaths for the absence of this spongey, tight, beautiful pussy - Christ, he even dabbled in torture just to see if it would get him off like you could. 

But he’s going to spend the rest of your life reminding you - reminding you that if you ever fucking leave again he’ll kill everyone until you have no one left but him. 

“Ten seconds and then I’m picking for you,” he murmurs, kissing behind your ear. 

He has to press his weight into your hips to keep them from rocking down onto his fingers - the ones he’s got shoved up to the hilt of his hand inside you, teasing your front wall with languid little rubs. 

The resigned, pathetic defeat in your tone warms his heart. “Second option.”

“Which one was that again?” 

“Prep me.” 

He nips your cartilage with his teeth, wrenching a little beaten whine from deep in your throat, the loss of his bully fingers making you clench and spasm and writhe. 

He picks you up, cradles you to his warm heartbeat, kisses your head. You can’t help it, you fold into his embrace, cling to the John you once knew, hands clutching at the lapels of his suit in some desperate attempt to find comfort. 

“I’m sorry, John.” You choke on whimpers, smothering your tears into his collar. 

“Oh, babydoll,” he coos, smoothing your sore scalp. “No you’re not. But you will be.” 

[spdrwdw]

hi! I saw ur post abt accidentally deleting reqs and was scared since mine wasn’t answered yet (im not complaining bc ur other work is so so delicious to read 😍) anyways here it is. Ok imagine Miguel ohara being the heir to the mafia ‘throne(?)’ ima be so fr idk what they call it 💀 anyways and he’s in an arranged marriage w/ a girl from a diff mafia family as a way to make peace between the two families, except neither he or the girl are happy abt it. Enemies to lovers would just be majestic for the plot in my opinion 🤭. Anywaysssss thank u sm and remember to drink water 🫶🏻

Art by: Kimmy_art0912 Pairing: Mob Boss Miguel x Wife reader Warnings: Mentions of blood, very mild violence, no use of y/n Summary: You and Miguel come from different mafia families, forced to be married in order to form an alliance as threat from an outside. However, you and Miguel can only tolerate each other, at best. A/N: I swear I scratched and rewrote this like five different times.I am sorry it took so long. I am slowly making my way back into writing. I do thank anon and everyone else for their patience as I slowly make my way back to life and I will be writing more Miguel fics soon. I may do a part two to this, depending on interest recieved. I have been getting into mafia books so I am going to be looking into those for inspo if I do make more parts to this. Also, very very light editing was done. Word Count: 4.6k

Your family and the O’Hara’s have been enemies since your ancestors set foot into this country. Both immigrating from nothing but the clothes on their backs and pennies to their name. 

Your family started working in the food industry. Working in restaurants, bakeries, etc. Anything that had to do with food. Seven days a week. Working from twelve to fourteen hour shifts just to make ends meet. Your great great grandfather worked at the local deli as well as a restaurant. When he wasn’t cutting up meat, he was in the kitchen making food. Your great great grandmother worked at the neighborhood bakery as well as the tailors. Her dream was to make clothes- dresses. She wanted to be a fashion designer. She started taking classes at the local college once they saved up enough money to invest in her studies. 

Eventually, with their hard work and sacrifices, their dreams came true. Your family soon owned several restaurants as well as luxury boutiques. Everyone did their part in keeping the family businesses growing and going. 

At first, it was all simply honest work. Your family stayed humble and grateful for their dedication. Then, with your great grandfather, things took a slight turn. He wanted to expand and turn into construction. Nueva York continued to go and grow, with more people coming to try to make a living and a name for themselves. And in that mix, people with bad intentions also tagged along. The family businesses were in jeopardy of being taken over or shut down completely by these power-hungry thugs. He did not want that. So, he and the rest of the family banded together and began hiring people who would be willing to work for them and protect them, whether they were military vets, criminals, or even cops. Anyone who was willing to protect the family. 

Allyship with other mafia families also aided in the growth and protection. However, there was one family that yours always butted heads with. 

The O’Haras. They immigrated from Ireland around the same time your great great grandparents did. They built their own businesses, casinos, hotels, and clubs- and wanted their own power and a spot with the elites of the criminal world. 

At first, things were neutral between the two families. At one point, the two families were almost allies. However, one night, there was commotion going on at one of the O’Hara nightclubs. Members of your family got into a tussle with the O’Hara group and ended up being a blood bath, with both sides losing men. 

Ever since then, things were tense, and the bloodshed continued to grow as oppositions rose. 

No one really knew what it was that started the feud that night. Some suspected it had been over a woman. Others thought it was simply because some members were drunk and careless words were exchanged.

Either way, the rivalry continued on. Until a new threat entered the city. And there was no choice but to come together. 

—

It’s been six months since you moved into his house. Six months since you lost your freedom. Six months since you got married. To Miguel O’Hara. 

It all happened in an instant. First, you were out abroad, having recently gotten your first major job as a fashion designer in a luxury clothing company, wanting to be as successful as your great great grandmother, and now you were out on a little vacation to celebrate, when you received a call from your father, ordering you to come back home. 

You should’ve relished that Mediterranean breeze as long as you could, because once you got on that flight back home, your world was about to be flipped on its head. 

“I’m sorry…WHAT?!” You screeched at your father, you only looked at you with his calm, cool, distant, expression as he inhaled into his cigar.

“You’re getting married to Miguel O’Hara,” he repeated. 

“I heard what you said! But, why?!”

“The O’Haras had agreed to a truce. Kingpin is gaining on both of our families. We are losing men and traction left and right. We agreed by aligning our families together, we will gain strength in numbers and influence.”

“And you are shipping me off into an arranged marriage! This isn’t the medieval age or whatever! 

Plus, with Miguel?! At least have me marry Gabriel. He’s not an asshole like his brother.”

“Miguel is to become head of the O’Hara family as he is the first born. Plus, his determination has been promising.”

You let out a groan. You could not believe this was happening. You never wanted to get sucked into this life. That’s why you went off to college. To try to get away and make a life of your own. Your efforts were proven to be futile as you felt the rug be pulled from under you and you were being dragged along with it to the same life you were trying to escape. 

Your father’s eyes softened. A hint of sorrow filled them. 

“I know, sweetheart. This isn’t what I was hoping for you, either. But, it is the only way. We are running out of options. I am sure Miguel will take care of you, and you will be able to fulfill your dream of following your great great grandmother’s footsteps. I am sure she would be proud to have someone actively expanding her fashion legacy..”

You still shook your head. It was just too much for you to take in. Plus, wasn’t Miguel in a relationship with someone? Xina? No..they broke up months ago. That’s right. But, wait..he was seeing someone else? Ugh. The guy has a new girlfriend every other day.

Besides, you two did have a thing going on in the past. It wasn’t serious. Mainly the occasional hookups. You two were of rivaling families, after all. You both did have your reasons for disliking each other. So, the sex was pretty much hate sex? If that made sense. It wasn’t out of passion. Unless you could call hatred a passion.

Never did you think you’d actually be getting married to him. 

After the news broke out that you and Miguel were to be wedded, everything went by in such a blur. Preparations for the wedding. The actual wedding. The honeymoon- which was hardly a honeymoon because neither of you actually spent any time together. It was just too awkward, and you knew that he wasn’t happy with this arrangement as much as you were. 

When you first moved into his house, you wanted to sleep in a separate room from him, and he agreed. However, when both of your parents found out about this, they were all livid. 

“How will you two get to know each other more and become intimate with each other if you are sleeping in separate beds?” Your mom cried one day when she came to visit you. You assured her there would be other situations where you and your husband would bond. Public situations where you’d be surrounded by other people and talking to those people rather than each other. 

You two simply avoided each other as much as possible. And during the times when you two were together, your company was either met with silence or bickering. And sometimes even being at each other’s throats. 

He would call you names like ‘immature’ ‘wild’ ‘rowdy’ and so on, simply because you refused to listen to him whenever he demanded something from you. 

You’d retaliate and tell him that he was controlling and a perfectionist. Because well, he was. He had to have things done a certain way or it would ensue chaos. And while he was right about you being a little more rowdy and wild, it was simply because you had the luxury of growing somewhat more normal. Your parents did not drill the life of the mafia into your head the same way it was drilled into Miguel’s. Which is why you both clashed when trying to communicate with each other. 

Right now, you were at home in the library. You spend a lot of time there, and while Miguel’s taste in reading wasn’t usually to your taste, you’d sometimes find yourself reading some of the novels that he was currently reading, as well as reading some that you’ve been purchasing and adding to the collection. 

Which reminded you, you had to head over to the mall and purchase the next book of a spicy romance series you’d been reading. As well as look for an outfit to wear at the next charity event you and Miguel would be attending. 

One of the few things you liked about Miguel was that he was very generous and active in the community, helping those less fortunate.

Placing the book down, you rubbed your bag and keys and decided to head out for a bit. Saying goodbye to the house staff as you walked past them, you made your way to the garage, which housed Miguel’s collection of cars, ranging from vintage to sporty and modern to big black suvs that you’d use whenever a bodyguard was transporting you somewhere, like parties. You never understood why someone needed so many cars but, whatever, as long as it wasn’t your money being spent. 

You made your way over to your car, glad that you were able to bring it with you when you got married. It was your baby. One of the few things you were able to bring with you. 

Glancing over at the clock on the dashboard, you bit your bottom lip. You should have enough time to purchase some books before heading off to your parents for a bit. You did promise them you would show up. They were planning lunch for you. It was your birthday today, after all. 

—

Miguel stood in front of the battered man that kneeled before him, hearing the groaning of pain coming from their mouth as blood pooled around the cement floor. 

Miguel’s knuckles were bleeding. But, it wasn’t his own blood, but the blood of the poor bastard that withered before him. Miguel didn’t like to use violence. He thought it was a primitive way of negotiating with his enemies. However, there were times when a little violence was necessary to get his point across. And to send a message. 

Why was this man being battered like a sack of potatoes? 

The man spat blood, a tooth or two flying out with the glob of blood as he remained strapped to his chair. His face was covered in blood. Beat up and mangled by the hands of the tall, brooding man before him. 

Miguel slowly knelt down before the man, taking a fistful of his hair, forcing him to look up into his almost amber eyes. 

“ Eres un demonio! (You're a demon). Not even the devil himself will want you!” the man spat, a glob of blood landing on Miguel’s cheek.

Miguel let out a hum of disinterest. His eyes lacked any life in them. However, this was when he felt the most alive, seeing his enemies cowering and crumbling before him. 

He took out a handkerchief from his breast pocket and cleaned the blood from his cheek before tossing the now soiled material at the man’s feet. 

“I take that as a compliment, you know. Maybe I want the devil himself to fear me.”

Miguel took out a cigar from his coat pocket and lit it before giving it a deep inhale and exhaled a heavy cloud of smoke at the man’s face. He couldn't believe that one of Kingpin's goons had infiltrated his circle and posed himself as someone who could've been trusted. Miguel was definitely going to send that fat son of a bitch a message, by killing this guy and sending his corpse back to Kingpin's front door. 

Not only that, but it also meant that they were going to have to redo background checks on everyone working for the O’Haras. That was going to be a pain in the ass.

"Gabriel! Hand me my gun," Miguel called out to his brother.

Gabriel, Peter, and Ben were all standing several feet behind Miguel, all watching as their boss beat and battered the man before them. 

Gabriel was Miguel’s right hand now that their father had stepped down as head of the O’Hara family. Many thought Gabriel was going to take charge, however, Miguel was much more brutal and cut-throat than Gabriel. It made sense for Miguel to take up the mantle, despite him being an illegitimate son. 

Plus, Gabriel preferred being on the sidelines instead of making the decisions. 

Gabriel made his way over to his older brother, handing him the gun before stepping back to his original spot. 

“Now. We can do this the easy way. Where I ask you a couple of questions and answer them. Or, we can do this the hard way, when I ask you said questions and if you refuse to answer them, I get to shoot you anywhere I want.”

”I would rather you just shoot me! I will never answer to you!” The man croaked. 

“You never got shot before, have you?” Miguel hummed as he removed the safety from the gun and cocked it before pulling the trigger, shooting the man on the foot. 

The man let out a screeching howl as he thrashed on the chair, letting out a series of curses. 

Miguel simply nodded his head. “That’s what I thought. So..shall we begin?”

The whole ordeal took only a matter of minutes, as Miguel wasted no time in trying to get his questions answered. The man was not sitting lifeless on the chair as bullet holes decorated his body. 

Kingpin had sent a lower ranked grunt to spy on them, trying to scope up any valuable information to report back to his true boss. Unfortunately for Kingpin, those in the lower ranks didn’t really get to be part of the action and behind-closed door discussions, so, this man’s life was unnecessarily wasted. 

“Send his body back to Kingpin. Just leave him on his doorstep,” Miguel said as he examined his suit, letting out a grunt when he saw small splatters of blood. He was going to have to go home and change. “Will do. You should start heading back home. I am sure you wife is waiting for you,” Gabriel said as Peter and Ben began placing the body into a black body bag and carried him out to the waiting pick-up truck. 

Miguel pinched the bridge of his nose. He didn’t hate you, but he knew that you hated him. And you had every right. You got married to him out of force, and while that wasn’t necessarily his fault, he didn’t blame you for holding a grudge on him. 

“Keep me posted on any activity. I need updated background checks on everyone working for us. We can’t let anyone else slip through the cracks,” Miguel stated as he made his way over to his car, with his brother following behind him. Gabriel nodded his head as he watched his brother leave. 

He had to make sure no on in his inner circle was actually working for Kingpin. Is someone indeed was, might as well just shut everything down then and there. 

No. Miguel wouldn’t give up just like that. He would just have to work harder and steer Kingpin off track. 

But, for the time being, his main goal was to get back home and get to his wife. It was your birthday, after all.

–

You spent the majority of the day with your parents. You had gone over to your former home- which you still miss deeply. It was such a stark contrast from where you lived now. There was just so much character, so much history in this house. It was the same house your great great grandfather had bought as a gift to his lovely wife, your great great grandmother, once their businesses were booming.

It had twelve bedrooms and sixteen bathrooms. A library where your mother would take you to read. When you were young, you’d pick out a book for your mother to read to you in bed. Mainly a fairy tale story. 

You always thought your life would be a fairy tale. You always imagined yourself as the princess or heroine, going on adventures and falling in love. However, the universe was not like those in the stories. Maybe in an alternate universe. But, not in this one. 

Instead, you were forced to marry the enemy in hopes of forming an alliance. Which, depending on how you looked at it, could’ve been seen as a fairytale. It didn’t feel like it. You weren’t in love with Miguel. You tolerated each other at best. Plus, you guys had shared history which made things pretty awkward at times. 

—-

You were back home, waiting for your darling husband to come home and wish you a Happy Birthday. He also supposedly promised to take you out to dinner. It was really an attempt for you two to get somewhat closer together. But, you weren’t sure how well that would play out. You both liked to push each other’s buttons. You were sure it would occur tonight. And honestly, you wouldn’t want to have it any other way. You wanted to be a thorn on his side. He was always so full of himself. Always thought himself to be this bigshot. Untouchable. Unweavered. You loved proving him wrong. 

You continued to wait and wait. The house staff had left for the night, including Miss Cheryl, your personally favorite housekeeper. She was an older woman, possibly in her mid-fifties. You never cared to ask her- mainly because you didn’t want to be rude and you actually liked her. 

Looking up at the clock in Miguel’s office, you saw that it was already seven thirty in the evening. Reservations were supposedly made for eight. Miguel had thirty minutes to get there. 

A part of you didn’t really care if he had forgotten or just waved it off. You didn’t want to force yourself to be nice with him, because who knew, you might just throw a glass of wine at him just as you did during your wedding reception.

You could hear a chime coming from the Alexa that rested on Miguel’s desk, signaling that someone had entered the house. 

Finally. You honestly thought he wasn’t going to come. 

Raising from his chair, you decided to go ahead and greet your husband. 

He was making his way upstairs as you made your way down the hallway, both of you making eye contact. 

“You’re late. I thought you weren’t going to come,” you said, crossing your arms over your chest. 

As Miguel stepped closer, you could notice blood splattered on his white shirt. 

“I know. Let me get changed real quick,” he replied as he walked past you. 

You knew Miguel had a way of dealing with those who wronged him. You have seen his blood-stained knuckles, bloodied shirts and a dangerous look in his eyes. It’s pretty much like in the movies. Some poor unlucky soul gets tortured to death by the boss or someone higher up. You’d like to think that Miguel isn’t simply killing people just because of blood-lust. While it wasn’t your business to judge, you didn’t want to be married to someone who is a little too eager to get blood on his hands. 

You made your way to his room, standing by the door as you watched Miguel slip on a fresh pair of pants and button-up shirt, something more suitable for dinner. Once he was finished, he took another look at you, furrowing his brows a bit. 

“What?” You questioned. 

“What are you wearing?” 

“What do you mean ‘what are you wearing’?” You asked, looking down at your dress. 

“Don’t you think that’s too revealing?” He asked. 

“What? Revealing? Where? Don’t tell me showing a little leg and shoulder is prohibited. Come on! This is the height of fashion right now, as well as demonstrating body positivity.” Miguel simply gave you a look as if in disgust. Not for the body positivity part. But rather your fashion choices. He was aware of your family’s success in the fashion industry. He even applauded it. But, he was also a  man with much simpler tastes. Tastes that you would sometimes groan over. 

“Well, I’m not changing, so let’s just get going,” you said as you grabbed a shawl to compliment your dress, and to shut Miguel up. 

The ride to the restaurant was quiet, save for the music that was playing on the radio. You two had very different music tastes. Not surprising. Sometimes you’d change the station or hook up your phone to Bluetooth. But, you tried to sit back and let him listen to his music this time. 

When you two managed to get there, Miguel stopped in front of the valet and got out. The valet driver in-waiting opened the car door for you to help you get out as Miguel rounded the car, handing the keys over to the young man who then took the sleek black suv to the parking garage. 

He gave you his arm to take. It had become routine. Show some sort of display of affection while in public. You never knew who could be watching. Sometimes cameras would pop out in front of you two. 

The proposal was rushed. The engagement. The wedding. People grew suspicious, and rightfully so. Your families quickly came up with a story of how you and Miguel were seeing each other in secret despite the rivalry of the families. The alleged secrecy of romance and hurried marriage gave you two the the title of Romeo and Juliet. Two star-crossed lovers who went against all odds just to be together despite your families and their differences. But, unlike the story, your ending didn’t result in a double-suicide, but rather acceptance, wedding bells, and peace between the two families. Everyone bought it. Well..almost everyone. 

As you two made your way inside and were greeted by the hostess, you were taken to a more secluded area of the restaurant. There, the table had been set up especially for you. A bottle of wine rested over a bed of ice, candles were lit on the table, as well as around the perimeter of your area. It would have been romantic, had you actually had romantic feelings for Miguel.

Still, he was a gentleman and he did go out of his way to reserve a nice place for you.

 He pulled a chair out for you to sit and scooted you in before taking his seat across from you. The music from a live pianist in the main dining hall still reached your private area. Had it not been for them, the room would’ve been dead silent as you and Miguel silently looked through your menus. 

“Can I pour you a glass of your wine?” A waitress asked onceshe approached your table. She was young. Tall and thin with big blue eyes and blonde hair tied up in a ponytail. And wearing way too much makeup. At least for your tastes. 

You could see how she was looking at Miguel, batting her fake eyelashes. You thought they were either going to fall off or send her flying away. Either way, you simply rolled your eyes. You didn’t care if Miguel got hit on, but come on, at least not while you were right there to see. 

“Yes, thank you,” Miguel said, giving her a charming smile. It made you roll our eyes again. Yes, he was being polite and all, but you could see right through him. 

“Can I offer you both an appetizer to start?” She then asked, still looking over at Miguel. 

Miguel then looked over to you, giving you a nod. “Would you like something to start with?”

”Yes, actually. Some bread for the table. they usually bring it out at the beginning,” you started. Which was true. You were just trying to be a little petty. 

“And how about some crab cakes and a salad for the table?”

The waitress nodded her head, her smile now a straight line. So straight, you could swipe your card through it like a card reader. 

“Yes, of course. I will put those in for you and bring you your bread,” she said before leaving the table. 

You simply rolled your eyes once again as you settled back against your seat. 

“How was lunch with your family?” Miguel then asked, trying to make conversation. 

“It was fine,” you responded. Usually, your responses would be short, and Miguel wouldn’t entertain the topic further. You knew you should at least try to get along with him, giving that you are married and that you will be spending the rest of your life with him. You simply assumed that it just hadn’t kicked in yet. You were going to try, though. 

One day.

“Ah, Mr. O’Hara! Mrs. O’Hara! A pleasure to see you two here tonight!” Someone behind you exclaimed. You could hear their heavy footsteps before turning around and seeing the owner and head chef of the restaurant. “Javier. A pleasure to see you,” Miguel said. “We were just celebrating my wife’s birthday.” “Ah! Of course! Happy birthday, Mrs. O’Hara. You look as stunning as ever,” Javier exclaimed. The man was five foot three, a mix of tan to sunburned skin, and all round. He kind of reminded you of the Pillsbury mascot. He looked so squishable and jolly. 

“Actually, Javier. Would you mind me having a word with you, real quick?” Miguel then asked, scooted his chair back from the table and stood, easily towering over the man. 

“O-oh! O-of cours! Of course! Come, come! Let’s step to the side,” Javier stated, now looking a little nervous as he led Miguel out of the room, leaving you alone. 

All while Miguel was having his private conversation with Javier, the waitress came back with the bread and appetizers. 

“We are going to need a couple of minutes,” you stated as she placed everything onto the tables. 

“Of course! I’ll make my way back around in a few minutes,” the waitress said, giving you a tight-lipped smile.  

You tried your best to not roll your eyes at her again as she left. Letting out a sigh, you decided to dig into the bread and appetizers. You sure weren’t going to wait for Miguel to come back to start eating. You never waited for him. Not because you didn’t want to, but because you knew you’d be waiting forever for him. 

–

Soon enough, you were back home. You were still slightly curious about the conversation Miguel had with Chef Javier. But, you didn’t think you should press Miguel about it. Some things were meant to be kept in private. Besides, you wanted no part of this whole mafia stuff. It had stolen so much of your freedom already. You wanted to remain ignorant of what goes on behind closed doors as much as possible. 

You both made your way upstairs, neither of you speaking as you made your way to your rooms for the night. 

Tomorrow you were planning on heading over to the boutique. Your cousin was currently operating it and sometimes you’d go to help her out. It helped you get out of the house every once in a while. Plus, you were usually filled with inspiration when you were surrounded by your family’s clothing. You were still working on your portfolio to give out to various companies, in hopes they would hire you. 

You were confident that they would. You were talented. Plus, you have your family’s name to back you up. Now, all you had to do was to make sure you get a good night’s rest so you could get up refreshed. 

[thewritetofreespeech]

Could I request Hades with a s/o who can go for several rounds of sex?

He never should have gotten involved with one of Aphrodite’s girls.

Hades was usually immune to the Goddess of Love & Beauty, and her entourage, but [Y/N] had struck a chord in him. He thought she was different. And, in many ways she was. Though beautiful and charming like all of them, [Y/N] was intelligent, engaged, and imbued with wit. He thought that because she was different from the others that she might be different in all ways. A foolish mistake.

“Come on…just one more time…”

[Y/N] cooed as she was already beginning to straddle his hips. Hade’s defeated body just a pliable mass beneath her as he’d expended all his energy in their several rounds before.

“My darling, I can’t.” He told her. “You’ve drained me completely. Can we not rest?”

“Oooh…but I can’t help it.” She rolled her hips against his cock. Her lower lips kissing it. He can feel the slickness, and his member tries to react, but cannot. “I just love your cock so much. It’s so big. It fills me up completely.” Hades groaned. Her flattery stroking his ego like her center against his cock. “Doesn’t the big, strong elder God have just one more to give me? I’ll be satisfied after that. I swear.”

A part of him wanted to tell her no, but another part of him, more primal, wanted to take this beautiful woman who seemed utterly obsessed with him. Hades urged his lover forward. Positioning her knees against the pillows by his head. His cock might not be working right now, but in the meantime his mouth worked. They could start there.

“Oh~! Oh yes Hades!” His beautiful nymph writhed against his face and tongue. Rolling those gorgeous hips against him as he lapped at her center. Her swollen clit a bead against his tongue that he played with while his hand tried to stroke his cock back to life.

“Oh! Oh Gods! It’s so good Hades….more…ah…you’re amazing….I’m gonna cum…I’m gonna ccuuummm!” Her walls seized around his tongue even as she squealed gleefully. Her juices coating his mouth and face with delicious honey.

She doesn’t bask in her climax for very long. She never did. Always in pursuit of more pleasure it seemed when it came to sex, [Y/N] looked back over her shoulder to see his cock back alive and grinned before she eagerly slid back down his body to claim it.

Hades groaned and gripped at her hips when she suddenly impaled herself on him. But his grasp does little against her, other than to keep her upright, as [Y/N] rode him in a breaking speed. “Mmm…oh yes…yes your cock! It feels so good inside me. I want no one else! I want your cock inside me all the time. Forever. Oh Gods! Oh Gods! Fill me up Hades!” The god held her hips tighter as he came one more, final time inside her. She shuttered in delight. A little orgasm from feeling his seed spill inside her, before she rode him the rest of the way to her final orgasm.

Completely and utterly spent now, Hades tried to catch his breath while his little lover laid beside him. Seeming unbothered and contented. Her fingers touching the spot where they had been connected and examining her fingers, coated in the two of them with fixation. “I have to go.”

“Go?” [Y/N] asked in surprise. “You do not wish to stay?”

“I have to work.” Though Hades did not know where he would find the energy for it, he did have his Godly duties to attend to.

[Y/N] pouted. Seeming a little disappointed and hurt. “Oh. Ok.” She lay in bed as he dressed but accepted his kiss when he came over to her. Clearly making attempts to pull him back down. “Will you come see me later?”

Hades knew that he should say no. This passion was clearly going to burn through them fast. He would not be able to keep this up forever; nor would his cock. Hades was beginning to realize that his beguiling nymph was more hungry succubus. He should break this off while he still had the will to. “I’ll come back later.” [Y/N] smiled, and all his worries seemed to float away as he left.

Later, while he was managing paperwork that had piled up in these long absences with [Y/N], if she had been a gift sent to him by Aphrodite or a curse. Time would only tell.

[kiwi-on-ice]

Outfits (on you) preference headcannons with Ashe, Moira, Sombra, Kiriko and Junker Queen with fem!reader

Word count: 1.4k

Warnings: smut 18+, both sfw and nsfw variations, dom/sub dynamics present, filming, slight petplay

Notes: i love women <3 Wanted to write something small to say thank you all so much for 200 followers! I'm blown away, thank you all for giving me so much support on my filthy little hobby.

Ashe:

Anything she’s bought you.

Ashe herself likes to dress in a way that shows she’s in charge, that shows she’s the leader of a dangerous gang. So when she starts dating you, she’s able to dress you up in all the ways she can’t dress

You’re her pretty doll, to be dressed up and twirled for her enjoyment.

If you have a specific style, she’ll use her wealth to get you the best and most expensive items of clothing that match you.

However if you don’t? Well she’ll have to just do you up all pretty won’t she? She’ll get the finest dresses and skirts (some that perhaps are a little too short), as well as lavish and expensive jewellery that matches.

She’ll love to have you try on the clothes she buys you, giving her a twirl so she can observe from all angles.

Anything that shows your thighs she’ll love, getting to fondle them when you both sit together. It’s her little way of showing that you’re hers.

Nsfw:

So when she said she’ll buy you the prettiest and most expensive clothes, lingerie is 100% included in that.

She’ll always come back from her travels with a pretty box, inside being a lingerie set she thinks will just look perfect on you.

Any colour that takes her fancy, although she has a certain penchant for red. The way it matches her lipstick really riles her up, so her kiss marks will match the delicious lace. But also when you both are in public, and she knows you both are matching in…less that obvious ways.

Although the reason she keeps buying you more and more is due to her impatience; there’s been several beautiful sets she’s ruined by tearing them off or stretching them in the throes of passion.

Other than lingerie, it comes back to skirts again. Don’t be surprised if when you both are intimate, she may take your skirt off last. Or perhaps leave it on, have you bouncing on her strap while the cute little skirt ripples and moves.

Moira:

A simple woman, she likes the items of clothing you might not expect.

She’s a fan of when you wear comfy clothes, like an oversized shirt that’s too big for you, so it ends around your thighs. Bonus if it’s her shirt; and especially bonus if it clings to your thighs while being a little baggy in other areas.

Although she’s also a very big fan of nightgowns. The more ‘feminine’ the better, especially if they’re quite old fashioned.

She finds them exquisite and quite refined, loving the way you look in them. Especially if she comes home from the lab late, seeing you peacefully in bed wearing a nightgown. White would be her favourite colour of them, however a red one would certainly have her mind racing.

Additionally, if you wear her lab coat…especially in her lab? Her face is heating up a little.

Nsfw:

If you’re wearing a button up, she’ll make you take it off for her. She’s a fan of you ‘performing’ for her, putting on a show. So she’ll make you slowly undo each button, revealing yourself slowly for her hungry eyes.

She’s also a fan of skirts, although unlike Ashe, they’re coming off first. Especially while you’re bent over so she can spank you and watch the handprints form.

Moira is also a pretty wealthy woman now that she’s getting her funding from…less than legal sources, with most of her income just going back into her research. So she’ll most likely give you some money to get yourself ‘something pretty’, and let you loose in a lingerie store so you can get something to show her later that night.

Although her one dirty secret she’s never shared is that the idea of you in a maid dress is…tempting. She isn’t sure why this particular fantasy of hers is one she’s reluctant to tell you, but maybe she’ll let it slip one night while her fingers are deep inside of you.

Sombra:

Another woman who likes to buy you things.

She’ll hack into your wish lists to see what clothes you like, and then get them and act like she just guessed (after a while you catch on, but don’t tell her, it’s more fun for her this way).

Honestly I think she’d love to see you in purple, wants you both to match.

Although I think she would also love an alt girl, with fishnets, chains, dark tones, you name it.

Will insist on being the one to pull up your tights or stockings or long socks, thinks its intimate, and will most likely press a kiss to wherever the garment ends.

Loves loves LOVES to see you in jeans, thinks they make your legs and ass look delicious.

Especially if you attach a chain to it, she'll love tugging on it to bring you closer and give you a kiss.

Nsfw:

she'll definitely love you dressing up in outfits made especially for sex.

her particular favourites are maid dresses and Halloween costumes (think sexy cat and sexy devil)

Due to her predilection for filming you, the costumes just make you look more stunning for her eyes and the camera lens.

She'll love to project the footage of you onto the wall to tease you, making you watch your body writhe and shake at her touch while you wear an embarrassing outfit.

Other than costumes, lingerie works for her too. Her particular favourite colour is purple (obvs)

She also loves lace bodysuits on you, adores the feeling of them under her fingertips as she runs her fingers up and down your waist.

Kiriko:

She loves fashion, so she'll adore a s/o that loves it too!

Definitely the type to want to share clothes, but if you aren't the same size as her don't worry, she'll just get two sizes of all the clothes she buys.

Really loves a y2k/streetwear style on a girl, especially the cool jackets. The type to have pinterest moodboards of the types of fashion for both you and herself.

Would steal your jackets constantly and wear them, getting to feel like she's yours.

And 100% loves it if you match her energy and steal hers too, makes her feel all giddy when she sees you wearing her jacket in public.

Also would love a partner who wears a lot of rings, you'll find her fiddling with them when you hold her hand.

Nsfw:

any outfit that you wear that shows your bra, whether it be a see-through top or an of the shoulder one where the strap is exposed, gets her going.

Definitely would love to snap the bra strap against your skin to tease you, especially in public.

She adores roleplaying, so anything where you both get to wear costumes.

Whether you're dressed as a sexy nurse , or a police officer or even a sexy secretary, she'll love it.

Will try and keep most of your costumes on in those scenarios.

Also loves it when you wear jeans, so she can grind herself on your thigh and feel the denim.

Junker Queen:

She's a strong and fiery woman, with an equally strong and edgy fashion sense. So to her, she'll love it if you dressed...dainty.

Is interested in the dichotomy, seeing you in the prettiest and most pastel dresses and tops and skirts and cute thigh high socks while she sits on her throne in her black denim and metal armour.

Loves anything floral on you.

Also loves texture, hence why she loves lace. She'll enjoy anything that feels interesting to her touch as she runs her strong hands over you.

But nothing beats your bare skin in her eyes, so if you're wearing a dress, skirt or shorts, you better have nothing preventing her from feeling and squeezing your bare thigh.

In that regard, she'll also love you to wear something off the shoulder too, so she can see your collarbones.

Nsfw:

Listen she's a simple woman when it comes to her desire for you, so nothing beats you being naked.

You'd try to wear the cutest lingerie sets but it wouldn't matter, she'd have them ripped off in seconds.

Always would complain, if it were up to her you simply wouldn't wear anything under your clothes (or anything in general).

However, that all changes when she first sees a playboy bunny outfit.

Something about it ignites a fire in her, and immediately she's getting you one.

Seeing the silly bunny ears on your head, the tights, the bodysuit, she wants you so badly it hurts. The vision of you on your knees in front of her, looking up at her like her own little pet, her own little rabbit.

If you do wear it, you'll create a monster...so good luck.

[junelovesaz]

Hidden Feelings. Part 2

Note: Hi everyone! I apologize for the delay with this second part. I had some issues and I've just been able to finish it. Again, I appreciate the time you take to read me. English is not my first language, and I apologize if this is terrible. Love you! ❤❤❤

Psdt: I want to thank everyone for all the reblogs, likes, and comments on the previous post 😭😭😭 It really brightened my week, I adore you all.

The tags are located at the end. If you want me to tag you for the third and final part, let me know.

Part 1

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

Demons, I had forgotten how much I struggled with getting up early.

Especially after staying up late after dinner. I was sure I had passed out on the couch, but I had woken up in one of the rooms I used when I stayed over. I had a slight suspicion of who had brought me there, but for my own good, I decided not to dwell on it.

I forced my body to wake up and get out of the comfortable sheets. I took a quick shower, and the house already had the Ilyrios leathers ready when I stepped out, so I left a grateful remark aloud before getting dressed.

I figured most had stayed over, so I tried to make as little noise as possible as I sneaked into the kitchen to have some leftovers from the night before. It was really delicious, so if I was going to say goodbye to good food for the time I was away, I would make sure to enjoy these last bites. I couldn't stay at the Ilyrian camps, it would be very suspicious if I did after Rhys was asking what had happened to those females. And if I wanted to get answers, real answers, I'd have to make sure to be careful. They would guess my motives for being in the camp as soon as I set foot in it. So, ruled out.

However, there was a tavern a bit further away, nothing a few minutes walk wouldn't solve, with rooms upstairs. The Ilyrians frequented it for drinks. Therefore, that would be my biggest advantage.

A hand on my shoulder brought me back to reality, and I let out a startled shriek before turning around.

"What the hell…"

Oh.

When I noticed the hazel eyes and the shadows in tendrils spreading around the room, I relaxed.

"You scared me to death" I whispered slowly. Az smiled slightly, and for a moment, I held my breath. "I made some noise so you'd hear me, but you were committed to the mission" he pointed at my half-eaten food. I shook my head while suppressing a smile and hurried to clean up what I had messed up.

"Leave it, I'll do it" his voice interrupted me again, as his scent enveloped me, and he gently took things out of my hands. I glanced for a moment at the action, at his scarred hands moving, beautiful as anything I had seen, yet I couldn't ignore the fact that he was making an effort not to touch me, as if consciously avoiding brushing against me. A pang of pain shot through my chest, and I raised my guard again.

How foolish I was being, a complete and damn fool.

"It's okay, Azriel. I can handle it" I tried to say firmly but quietly, unaware that he was looking at me, studying me, searching for something. His wings fluttered softly, and shadows roamed freely around the room, around us.

"Why do you call me that?" he asked slowly, and I looked at him slightly confused, while tendrils of shadows wrapped around my fingers, tickling me a little with their cold touch, but managing to make me smile affectionately at them.

"Call you…. How?" I replied back, distracted by his shadows.

"Azriel" he said flatly. "You stopped saying my full name shortly after we met, and you've gone back to that for several weeks now."

I didn't respond. Obviously, if there was anyone in the world who could notice those things, it would be him. But I couldn't answer him, not honestly, at least. I couldn't tell him that I couldn't call him Az without it hurting, because it made me think of him with love, and I couldn't allow myself to continue that, not when I saw him with the beautiful Archeron sister. So I continued playing with his shadows, avoiding answering, but I felt his attentive gaze on me until the tendrils returned to him, and I had no choice but to lift my head to find him a short distance away from me.

"Did you take me to bed last night?" I asked, changing the subject. Az simply nodded. "Thank you" I whispered, not knowing what else to say. I swallowed hard and stepped away, ready to leave once and for all, before I did or said something I would regret later.

"Y/N" he called "Is everything okay?"

I tensed in my place, of course, he had also noticed that. "Yes" I lied without looking at him as I moved to put some snacks in the small backpack that, oh surprise, he had given me in a past solstice and I always carried with me.

"If it's about dinner, I'm sorry…"

"It's okay, it's forgotten" I interrupted, because if he said anything more, my heart would warm completely, and I would end up lowering the walls. "No" he said firmly, "questioning you like that made it seem like I thought you weren't capable. It's not about that" he looked at me confidently, his hazel eyes fixed on me, almost making me shiver.

I didn't want to know what else it was about because that would hurt my already wounded heart more, so I sent the curiosity to the deepest place in my mind and gagged it with all my might.

"It's okay, Azriel" I smiled slightley "Apologies accepted" I took my backpack, ready to leave this house once and for all and sink into self-pity while freezing to death in the Ilyrian mountains.

"I still think it's a bad idea for you to go alone" he blurted out once I had turned my back, causing me to freeze in place.

"We've talked about this, you know I can do it"

I took one more step before his voice sounded again, "I'm not saying no, just maybe…"

"Azriel, I really don't want to have this discussion again, please" I interrupted quickly. I didn't want him to offer. I couldn't let him, because then I wouldn't know what my reaction would be, and it would give me away.

"You're being irrational, you know?" he shook his head in a resigned tone.

Well, thank Mother he didn't insist further. I released the breath I was holding, and I supposed he realized that I wouldn't give in this time. Not even for him, despite the fact that, in the last few centuries, the word 'no' was never in my vocabulary when it came to Az.

"Maybe" I waved my hand without turning, "See you later, shadowsinger"

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

That same afternoon, I was already settled in the rundown room of the tavern. I had to persuade the owner to give me the most decent place possible, and honestly, if this was the best he could offer, I'd take it. It was either this or sleeping on the outskirts of the camp freezing my butt off.

I wrinkled my nose as the smell of mold burned my nostrils. By the Cauldron, Rhys had made me too spoiled.

"Y/N" I heard a voice in my mind.

Speaking of being spoiled…

"I can hear that" the voice spoke again.

I smiled softly. "Of course. Oh mighty High Lord" I replied mockingly.

"I'm glad to see you're in better spirits, Y/N" he responded, also teasing, and my smile faltered. A hint of humor seeped into my mind, and I realized that's what he wanted: to mess with me.

"Don't you have a mate to attend to, Rhys? Instead of bothering me?" I retorted sharply.

"Feyre is very well taken care of by me, thank you for your concern. And to answer your other question, you promised a nightly report" he remarked in that tone of superiority.

Right. "Well, there's not much to update. I'll be staying in that tavern near the camp, a bit off the beaten path to avoid suspicion. And most people here don't know me, so everything should be fine. Tomorrow I'll inquire more about the deaths of those females. A curious outsider at first, and by nightfall, I'll have answers. It shouldn't take more than three days" a touch of approval filled my mind, and I smiled slowly.

"Let me know if you encounter any problems, Y/N" Rhys paused before asking "Is everything okay?"

I knew what he meant, and I knew I could tell him because Rhys wouldn't say a word. But opening that little crack would make everything come to light, would make me collapse, and this wasn't the time or place. So I responded with a joke instead, "No, Rhys, this room smells terrible, and the food is tasteless."

His laughter filled my head. "I didn't know you had become so spoiled aside from lazy" he said in a soft tone, and I understood… I understood that Rhys knew I was lying, but he was letting it go to avoid pressuring me. He had noticed my mood at dinner the night before, my need for space, and yet, he had decided not to comment on it.

My heart warmed. I would give my life for him, for my entire family in general.

"Thank you, Rhys" I tried to pour all my gratitude into that simple phrase, but I knew it wouldn't be enough. "For everything" I paused. "Now, go to your neglected mate before I go kick your butt myself"

His laughter filled my head again before disappearing completely, leaving me alone with the thoughts swirling in my mind.

What was that earlier with Az? When I left, he seemed concerned. I understood his position. He didn't want me to come alone in case something went wrong, especially knowing how much I detested the Ilryos for their harsh customs.

Maybe that's all it is. What else could it be? After all, I was almost as well-trained as the three of them. However, Az was the one who had been most reluctant to let me go alone. And what if…

No. I forced myself not to consider any other possibility that gave me hope. Because I had seen it, I had seen how comfortable he was with Elain, and how today, before I left, he made an effort not to touch me even a single inch.

A familiar pain filled my chest, so strong that it forced me to hug myself tightly as I wrapped myself in the blankets of the bed.

Perhaps, this was how it was meant to be. Three brothers with three sisters. There was no place for me in that equation.

And yet, I couldn't help but think of the times his eyes softened at my poor attempts at baking, even though it tasted like crap and not even Cassian could stomach it, Az would eat the entire portion. Or when in training, my muscles were so stiff that I just wanted to drop to the ground, and he provoked me, knowing what to say to touch the competitive fibers within me, forcing me to get up because he wouldn't let my pride be trampled upon. Even the times he played dirty to make me lose a fight, he knew what to do to distract me.

But none of that mattered. Not when he was with Elain.

It hurt, of course it hurt. It's not like I had been displaced from my place beside him. It's just that seeing him with the Archeron sister made me realize that I wasn't indispensable, he could be fine without me. That's why I had distanced myself, for my own good, for the sake of my feelings, of the unrequited love, and for… their sake.

That I couldn't have Az didn't mean I wouldn't let him be happy with someone else.

And by distancing myself, I supposed I had unintentionally done the same with the others. That's why I had missed some training sessions, why I had stopped going to some family dinners, because it hurt to see him. I knew Cassian was worried, I had seen it in his eyes, and for Rhys, it would be as easy as delving into my mind to know, but he would never do that.

I knew they would let me deal with whatever was happening in my own way, that's why they didn't pressure me, none of them, not even Mor, until I was ready to talk.

And that thought made me realize that I wasn't trying hard enough. I had felt lonely because I had unjustly pushed them away. When I got back home, I would make sure to do my part, I would try to be happy for Az and Elain, I would stop skipping training sessions and dinners to avoid crossing paths with him.

I loved him, and seeing him with someone else hurt me, yet I wouldn't let that affect my relationship with my family. I would pay attention to conversations during meals, I would no longer be a ghost. I had finished with self-pity.

However, I still felt glad to have volunteered to participate in this mission. They deserved all the peace they had, and if I could provide them with more time of tranquility by doing these things, I would. I would postpone everything for as long as possible and offer to go anywhere. And with that last thought in mind, I let sleep take over me and slept peacefully for the first time in months.

@going-through-shit @isa1b2h3 @bigcreatorwombatdreamer @willowpains @mariahoedt @charlotteintumbleland

[justwinginglife]

The Best Birthday

This is my birthday present to my bestie @insertuserherelol, I love you I hope you have the best birthday ever!

You wake up to the strong scent of flowers and find that every inch of your bedroom is covered in white lilies, your favorite flower. Before you even have time to process how they all got in there while you were sleeping, the scent of breakfast parts its way through the sweet smell. Your grumbling stomach responds to the promise of food but before you can drag yourself out of bed to go greet the delicious smell, the food is brought to you. Soshiro smiles warmly as he hands you the tray. “Good morning my love, happy birthday.”

The picture of him eagerly awaiting your review of his food while he fidgets in his cute little apron that says “I love my wife” on it is the best thing you could’ve ever woken up to. When you take a bite and exclaim to him that the food is amazing he finally relaxes, pleased with himself, and he seats himself beside you, kissing your temple while you eat.

You want to feed him a bite of your food, actually several bites, but he insists that his wife needs to eat before him- he wants to make sure you’re taken care of before he does anything else.

When he finally does make himself a plate, you tell him you’re just thinking about spending your birthday lounging around with him in your pajamas, just watching tv.

He immediately refuses. “Tv later. For now, I’m going to give you the best birthday of your entire life.”

A giggle bubbles up your throat. “Baby, you say that every year.”

“And it’s true every year, I will always make it the best I can possibly make it. Starting with this.” He presents you with your first present of the day.

It’s that cute sundress you had previously been keeping your eye on, waiting for the price to drop.

“Put this on while I finish up my food and I’ll take you on the best date of your life.”

You happily oblige, booking it to the bedroom, eager to try it on. If he wasn’t just the most attentive husband in the entire world, you weren’t sure what he was. You planned to do yourself up real nice for him.

You slip into the dress, giving it a happy twirl in the mirror, before you hurriedly curl the shit out of your hair, fast as you possibly can.

By the time he’s done eating, you’re out of breath but looking flawless and he won’t stop reminding you just how flawless you are.

He continues to shower you with his affection as he drives the two of you -his hand on your thigh- to your next destination, saying things like “I just can’t believe my luck” and “You take my breath away” that make your heart melt into one big, sappy puddle.

You think to yourself that you could just sit in the car and listen to him talk all day and it would still be the best day ever. But he has other plans. He loves you immensely and is not about to let you forget that.

He takes you to an art gallery and soaks in the sight of you pointing at every painting you like, his face filling with the warmest smile for you. He even starts drawing a portrait of you on the blank back of an information pamphlet because you teased him that he couldn’t do what these artists do. It’s a cute picture of you- honestly. You beg him to let you keep it and he trades the sketch for a kiss. It’s a sweet kiss and it’s filled with love and adoration. That love continues as he lets you buy whatever you want from the gift shop, eager to spoil you.

When you think he can’t get any cuter, he takes you to a cat cafe for lunch and you watch as your adorable husband draws the attention of almost every cat in there. You laugh as they climb all over him, purring as they rub against them. He’s shocked that they like him so much but you’re not. They know a good man when they see one, just like you do.

You sip your tea and snack on a pastry as you lovingly watch him give scratches and head pats to every little kitty. He doesn’t want to leave any of them out after all. He even buys you a kitten as another birthday present and you drop them off at his apartment before you head to your next date.

He takes you to a park next, and the two of you spend a peaceful moment there just relaxing on a blanket under the shade of a tree, watching the birds fly by; he doesn’t want to tire you out, as he has more plans for tonight, so he took you here to relax. You’re thankful he’s so thoughtful. The two of you enjoy the light breeze and the blue skies as you talk about life, about each other. Even as his wife, you’re still eager to know everything about him and he’s eager to share it all with you.

Afterwards, he takes you out to a nice dinner, overlooking the boardwalk, and when you’ve had your fill of expensive food, he takes you for a walk down the pier.

You watch the sunset together, snuggled up against him on the Ferris Wheel and you think to yourself he outdid himself again. It really is the best birthday of your life, every single year without fail.

He leans over to you and buries his face in your shoulder. “This is always one of my favorite days of the year.”

You raise an eyebrow at him curiously. “Because we always have the most fun dates? I mean, it’s my birthday, what’s so great about it for you?”

“Because today is the day that the love of my life was born and my life finally had meaning, even if I didn’t know you yet, you gave my life purpose.”

You blush and you hope you can blame the warmth in your cheeks on the hues reflecting off the sunset. “You’re a real sweet talker, you know that?”

He laughs against your shoulder, kissing it gently. “Only for you, my dear. Always for you.”

Then he pulls out one last gift. It’s a golden locket with a photo of the two of you gazing happily at each other. Just like you’re doing now.

As the world spins around you, the Ferris wheel taking you round and round while he secures the jewelry around your neck, you think to yourself how lucky you are. You’re lucky to have a man who loves you so much, a man that keeps his promise when he says he’s going to make every year the best birthday of your life, and without fail, he’s done it again this year.

He’s the best present you could’ve ever asked for.