#and then she's just blown out of the water
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somestorys · 2 days ago
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Ready to lose, Thornton?
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JUST LITTLE CUTE STORY
Sofia / Rafe shipping + Topper (fueled by too much tequila) // Outer Banks.
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It was one of those nights in Figure 8 where the rich kids took over Topper’s house, laughter echoing through the halls, music thumping from every corner, and drinks flowing like water. Rafe, Topper, Kelsey, and a few others were sprawled across the living room, half-bored and half-tipsy, when Topper’s latest “genius idea” surfaced—a full-blown Nerf war.
Sofia was leaning against the arm of a sofa, trying to ignore pure happiness on Rafe eyes when he saw the Ner guns, her eyes drifting around the room with mild uneasiness. She looked Topper, did he really want to give a vodka fueled Rafe a Nerf gun?
She and Rafe had been something for a while now—something between dating and hooking up, though it was clear to anyone paying attention that she wasn’t just fling to him. He had this way of hovering around her, like he was always subtly making sure she was within reach.
Topper, fueled by too much tequila and a misplaced sense of leadership, held up a bright orange Nerf gun and announced, “Alright, listen up. It’s on. Teams or every man for himself?”
Rafe barely glanced at him, already looking at a box full of Nerf guns, his lips curling into a smirk. “Every man for himself,” he said, his voice calm but carrying an undeniable edge.
Rafe picked up Nerf gun, tested the weight of it in his hand, and cocked an eyebrow. There was a glint in his eye, a competitive, almost dangerous edge, even with just a toy gun in his hand.
“Ready to lose, Thornton?” Rafe said, his voice cool, low, and mocking. Everyone in this room knew that once Rafe got into something, it was game on. Sofia rubbed her temples, this not going to be good.
Topper laughed, trying to sound confident but knowing full well Rafe wasn’t the type to lose at anything—even if it was just a ridiculous Nerf war. “Oh, bring it, Cameron,” Topper replied, trying to keep his cool, but Sofia caught the slight tension in his voice.
Everyone knew that Rafe had that effortless dominance about him; he didn’t need to shout or rally. When he took the lead, everyone just followed. Topper might try to play the leader of group, being always the loudest, but Rafe was the one people listened to, the one they followed without even realizing it. Mostly because he was… well slightly intimidating.
The game kicked off with a flurry of foam darts whizzing through the room, and Sofia watched with barely concealed laughter as Rafe dove behind furniture and took aim like he was on a mission. She couldn’t help it; he was getting way too into this, his brow furrowed, his movements precise. Every time he hit somebody, he would scream something totally outrageous like “Checkmate, Bit*h”.
Sofia couldn’t help a little giggle coming from her mouth when Topper run from a room, since Rafe was defiantly targeting him most.
“You know it’s just a game, right?” she called out, dodging one of his stray shots.
He shot her a look over his shoulder, smirking very smugly. “Hey, I take my wins seriously, yeah?”
Ruthie, Topper’s girlfriend—a perfectly manicured brunette with a mean attitude —sidled up to Sofia, giving her a smile that was somehow both friendly and judging. Ruthie usually treated everyone outside their circle with thinly veiled disdain, but with Sofia, she kept her manners in check. She knew better than to get on Rafe’s bad side, at least when Rafe had a nerf gun in his hand and had been drinking since noon.
“They’re like little boys with toys,” Ruthie muttered, rolling her eyes as she watched Topper run around, screaming like he was leading a battle. “Honestly, sometimes I wonder why I date him.”
Sofia laughed little bit too loud it to be genuine laugh, she didn’t really like Ruthie that much. She was everything that was wrong in Figure 8.
She noticed Ruthie’s eyes lingering on Rafe, her gaze softer, almost envious. Sofia knew Ruthie was drawn to the darker, more intense side of Rafe—the side that might make most people think twice before crossing him. Sofia had seen it up close enough times to get it. But Ruthie had no idea there was a whole other side to Rafe. The guy could actually be a very gentle and sensitive boyfriend—when he felt like it, anyway.
At one point, a stray dart hit Sofia square in the shoulder. She gasped, pretending to be scandalized. “Seriously, Rafe? Your aim’s that bad?”
He lowered his Nerf gun, a lazy smirk spreading across his face as he approached her, his tone dropping. “Trust me, I don’t miss. I got your attention, mmh?” he murmured, closing the distance between them. His hand reached up to brush a piece of her hair behind her ear, the touch both possessive and electric.
Topper, noticing the moment and apparently unable to resist a good tease, grinned and nudged Rafe. “Man, you’re looking at her like she’s the only one here. I think you’re getting soft”
Rafe didn’t even blink, his eyes still locked on Sofia as he smirked. “Shut it, Thornton,” he said, his voice dropping on that almost icy tone, he glanced Topper warningly. He looked back at Sofia, almost as if Topper didn’t exist. “Wait... you’re not getting soft on me, or are you?” He thinks he was so funny, smirking.
Sofia couldn’t help but snort, oh he was playing with her. She raised an eyebrow, crossing her arms in mock challenge. “I think you’re projecting, Cameron.”
They held each other’s gaze, both waiting other one give in. Then, as if he couldn’t resist, Rafe leaned in closer his lips touching Sofias earlobe, dropping his voice so only she could hear. “You know, I’d take down everyone in this room if it meant winning you. You like that kind of romantic shit, yeah?”
Sofia laughed, her cheeks flushing slightly as she shoved him away playfully. Rafe looked her empty class in a side table, “I get you more”.
Ruthie was mildly impressed this softer side of Rafe—the guy who seemed to have a reputation for being untouchable, suddenly doting on Sofia with this strange mix of protectiveness and teasing affection. For her, Rafe has never been “dating option” before she saw her with Sofia, how she had missed that potential?
The night went on, foam darts flying everywhere, the group scattering and laughing. Every so often, Sofia would catch Rafe’s eye from across the room, he was constantly checking that she was still there.
As the chaos settled and they all collapsed onto couches, catching their breath and laughing, Rafe’s hands found its way to Sofia’s hips, a subtle, attentive touch when he pulled her on his lap. His hands touched lazily her hips, roaming up and down. For a guy who didn’t want a girlfriend, he was being rather touchy.
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melonthesprigatito · 25 days ago
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I find it mildly hilarious that Black and White makes such a huge deal out of the fact N can understand Pokémon, like "LOOK! He can understand the hearts minds of Pokémon!" Truly a unique individual!" then you watch the anime and find out that talking to Pokémon is apparently an already established superpower that some people just have and that two Gym Leaders can do it.
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Sorry, N. You ain't special.
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colorful-horses · 2 years ago
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Hasbro heard about Monster High making a comeback and they came out mad as FUCK with these dolls
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kiseiakhun · 4 months ago
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I don't think it's a coincidence that the artist in question also happens to be Chinese and has been outspoken in the past about issues specifically affecting China and makes her heritage a big, central theme of her work. For Some Reason, this type of backlash always hits non-white creators the hardest.
there's a popular twitter artist right now who is getting called out for ai on a drawing, because people are circulating screenshots from two years ago when they were excited about the possibilities that AI offered for going back to making their comic again which had slowed to a crawl because of their RSI. only the thing is the drawing they're getting accused of using AI for has no ai use in it at all, and they've needed to publicly publish their patreon exclusive process video to prove this to an internet mob because of the influx of hate they're getting! good job protecting artists, guys!
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jayparked · 2 months ago
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𝓂𝓊𝓈𝒾𝒸 𝓉𝑜 𝓂𝓎 𝑒𝒶𝓇𝓈 | 𝒿𝑜𝓃𝑔𝓈𝑒𝑜𝓃𝑔 | 𝓂
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snippet: "Ride me." Jay huffs. It's a command, not a request. He moves back to the head of the bed, adjusting the pillows before leaning back against them. Lifting the covers away from his body, he removes his boxers slowly. looking into your eyes as he does so. pairing: park jongseong x female reader genre: smut au: music producer jay, established relationship rating: explicit/18+, minors dni word count: 9.7k warnings: thunder and lightning storms, cigarette smoking sexual warnings: early morning sex, unprotected sex, lots of moaning, y/n tries to be a brat but jay aint having it, forced orgasm, oral (female and male receiving), jay almost lets y/n dom but then quickly changes his mind, spitting/mentions of drool, fingering, biting, marking, light bruising (from fingernails and biting), choking, language, some light foot worship, jay just really needs y/n to moan the way she did earlier so he can use it for his track, voice recording, brief use of sex toys i.e: restraints and vibrator, begging, whimpering, overstimulation, dirty talk, cigarette use, uhh jay uses the ashes from his cigarette on y/n’s nipples as a stimulant..., there’s some real good aftercare in there too so don’t worry, they’re like...grossly in love
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The sound of the rain pitter pattering against the window is what initially draws you from your slumber. It falls rhythmically in a way that would normally lull you back to sleep, but the loud, harsh, fast contact of the water against the glass is almost flinch worthy. It isn’t an ordinary skylight window above a bed. The bedroom walls are slanted invertedly so that when you’re lying on the bed and look up, the window is slanted right above you. You watch as the raindrops hit the window and slowly slide down.
Yawning, you stretch out your arms and feel your muscles tighten before relaxing and you sigh softly with pleasure. You rub your eyes with your fists, blinking quickly as the moonlight escapes past the clouds barrier and cascades across your face causing you to squint annoyedly. Jay loves leaving the specially built blinds up at night, something you had to grow accustomed to after some time living together. Night after night watching him gaze wistfully towards the moon, it became your favorite part of your nightly routine. Watching that look of childish wonder gloss over your boyfriend’s eyes...there’s just nothing like it.
Tonight, the sky isn’t so peaceful. Lightning angrily streaks across the sky making you jump and clutch the flannel sheets to your chest.
"It wake you up too?"
You gasp, a sharp intake of breath causes your voice to squeak.
"You scared me, Jay!" You slap your boyfriend's shoulder lightly with the palm of your hand. He chuckles and rolls onto his side to face you, black hair swooping down over his forehead, just above his very awake looking eyes.
"Sorry. The thunder woke me up a little while ago. I was waiting for it to get you next." The edges of his eyes pinch together as he smirks, his voice sounding more sultry than playful. You shake your head trying to distract yourself from leading your mind down that alley. But it's hard when he looks that good and especially since you just had a dream about his-
"So. Now that we're both up..." he whispers and runs his pointer finger down your arm from your shoulder to your fingertips. "What should we do?" His big innocent eyes are all a ploy, you know that for sure. His pupils are blown out and his breathing is uneven. He knows exactly what he wants to do...and you're not sure if you're against it.
"How about..." you start slowly. You run your hand up his naked chest, feeling his muscles flex under your palm. He sighs and closes his eyes, completely enjoying the feeling of your hand rubbing against his bare skin. His sleep swollen lips part open and you can hear his breaths coming out sharp and quick, his heart rate rising quickly. You guide your hand down his chest and over his abdomen which makes him take in a sharp breath between his teeth. Jay's eyes remain closed so it's easier to marvel over the way his bottom lip starts to quiver, or the way the moonlight cascades shadows off his eyelashes, or the way his cock becomes more and more visible as it hardens under the sheets.
"How about we go back to sleep!" You say excitedly and remove your hand from your boyfriend's body. You throw your head back into your pillow and quickly close your eyes, pretending to instantly fall back asleep. If only it was that easy, right?
"I think we both know there's no point in sleeping now," Jay says, a low growl vibrating deep in his throat. He grasps the sheets in his hand and with one quick motion he throws them off your bodies and onto the floor. Cold air coats your skin and you tuck your knees up to your chest to try to keep in the warmth.
"Oh. Don't worry." Jay grabs your shoulders and turns you on your back, grasping your knees and opening up your legs so that he could kneel between them. "I'll warm you up real quick."
Your heart thumps loudly in your chest, your stomach on fire with anticipation of what's to come. A streak of bright lightning flashes outside once more, followed by a loud clap of thunder over your heads. Jay moves his hand from your shoulder and rubs his palms up and down your thighs- the warmth of his skin makes you sigh and your shoulders relax further into the bed as his hands get further and further up your leg. He gets closer and closer to the edge of your pajama shorts, each time his hands move up and down your legs you're annoyingly aware of the nearness. Like a magnet, your hips move downward to shift your body closer to him, trying so desperately to close that distance. All you want is for him to reach his long fingers underneath your shorts and relieve all of the tension building up at your clit.
"You still with me?" His voice is sultry, almost grainy. He leans back against his heels, now even further away from your heat. But that doesn't stop his roaming hands. Jay's thumb rubs against your talus and moves down to the arch of your foot. At first you flinch from the contact, his fingers tickling your skin. But you relax as he continues to massage your feet, total bliss overtaking your body.
"Sorry," you sigh out. "Feels so good."
Jay smiles, the hunger gone from his eyes for a moment and in their place is the look of a caretaker wanting to bring comfort. He longingly looks at your foot as he continues to massage it and as you look at him you can see clearly how much he loves you. With every soft and delicate touch down to the way he treats every inch of your body as if it were a prized gem.
But then the hunger returns and he moves away from your feet, crawling up towards your face until his lips are mere centimeters away from yours. The heat from his breath makes you hold in your own breathing, your lips parting, desperately wanting for him to kiss you.
This small action does not go unnoticed and Jay prides himself in his ability to have you wrapped around his beautifully long fingers. "Is there something you want?" His lips barely brush over the tops of your own with his annunciation of 'you want'. Shivers run down your spine and your eyes flutter closed, tilting your chin up towards him and elongating your neck. Jay lets his eyes roam over your body, licking his lips as he focuses on the spot of your neck that he knows is extra sensitive.
"What do you want?" His voice is so soft, far beyond a whisper or even a murmur and it completely contrasts against the ever nearing booming of thunder. There's a hidden softness behind his eyes as he peels them away from your body to look into your own. His bangs are falling over his eyes again and you take your hand to sweep them away. Instead of resting your hand back at your side, you cup his cheek, feeling the softness of his skin beneath your fingertips.
Sighing, you can only manage to get out one word in response, "You."
Both of your lips pull together with a force stronger than magnets. There's a faint remnant of smoke hidden behind his breath that's so addicting you can't help but deepen the kiss further. Tongues swirl together and it feels like you've slipped into a dream. One of his hands cradles the small of your back while the other one weaves fingers into your hair. A light tug on your scalp makes you moan into Jay's mouth and he replies hungrily by taking your bottom lip between his teeth, pulling gently yet hard enough to make your head lean forward so that your shoulders lift off the bed.
Jay pulls your body forward more, the hand on the small of your back raising you up until you're both sitting facing one another. His chest feels warm to the touch despite the chill that lingers in the room. You don't blame him though. Your body also feels like it's radiating more heat than normal. With each kiss adds a whole other degree to the body temperature between the two of you. And you just can't get enough. 
"Ride me." Jay huffs. It's a command, not a request. He moves back to the head of the bed, adjusting the pillows before leaning back against them. Lifting the covers away from his body, he removes his boxers slowly. looking into your eyes as he does so. This man is so confident it's almost unsettling. But you know he knows how much you love watching him undress. And it wouldn't be Jay if he wasn't teasing you in some way.
The band of his boxers dips below his hips, exposing his deep muscle lines. The bulge of his cock is so prominent it's making your mouth water and legs twitch with anticipation. Finally, he pulls them all the way down and releases his hardened cock from its cotton cage. He looks harder than normal, the redness of his skin a whole new shade of red than before. A large vein pulses at you, encouraging you to get closer and indulge in all the pleasures it offers you.
When Jay's hand grasps his shaft and strokes lazily, that's when your mind starts to feel hazy. Your mouth starts to salivate and that burning need between your legs is growing so intensely if you don't act on it soon you just might combust right here in this very spot.
You crawl towards your boyfriend slowly, watching him leisurely pump his cock in a way a cat would watch a mouse eat. Batting his hand away, you take his thickness in both of your hands, feeling the warm blood pump through his veins. Jay winces as you grip him a little tightly, the tip of his cock nearly throbbing in your hands from the pressure. You lean over him and open your mouth slightly, allowing a bead of drool to drop down and run down the side of his shaft.
"Fuck." Jay leans his head back against the headboard and moans.
"I'm so hungry for you," you purr and flatten your tongue against the side of his cock and lick one long stripe up to the tip, swirling your tongue around it before sliding your tongue back down again. Jay moans underneath you, muscles already shaking from the adrenaline coursing through his veins.
"Do you want me to suck you off or ride you?" You continue to use your tongue to play with him, licking down to the base of his cock before leaving little love bites at the base of his stomach and along his hip bones. Using one of your hands, you reach upward and apply pressure as your hand climbs up his stomach muscles, feeling every curve against your palm until you get to his chest and repeat the motion downward. Another moan leaves his beautiful lips and you can't help but smirk as you realize you could do this all day. Watching him melt in your hands and seeing him mentally debate with himself was a power surge unlike any other.
“Ri-ride me. I want you to ride me.” The words barely come out audible. His eyes are wide as he blinks rapidly, trying his best to stay present, his jaw and neck muscles bulging. He’s so close to the edge you think about ignoring his request. If you just suck him off all the way through, there would be punishment. No doubt about that. As appealing as being punished by your super sexy boyfriend might be, you decide to abide by his request and position yourself over him, your entrance hovering over his weeping cock.
“No more teasing.” The pleading tone is gone from his voice. Instead, it’s commanding and authoritative.
But you choose to ignore that once again.
“Can you even last?” You stick your tongue out playfully, gently biting down as you smirk. Your hands roam over his chest and lightly graze his nipples, a small act that normally drives him insane and right now you can see the clear focus in his eyes. You picked the wrong night to try to be playful.
“Fuck it. You wanna play games? I can play games.” In one sweeping motion, Jay has you on your back, his body hovering over yours. His hand is back on the small of your back, his fingertips gently kneading the muscles of your flesh before he digs his nails in, leaving a trail of scratch marks down your spine.
He tilts his head to the side as he looks into your eyes, pausing to think about something that thrills you to your bones. You’ve never been with a more imaginative partner before and although sometimes his ideas seem scary at first, you trust him completely.
“Oh,” he says simply. “You thinking about something interesting?”
“I’m thinking about all the ways I want you to fuck me.”
“Oof. What a foul mouth you have. Such vulgar words coming out of those pretty lips of yours. I’d fill it if I wasn’t so inclined to fuck that pussy of yours.”
You hitch in a breath, that tingling sensation spurring back to life deep within your core.
As if reading the thoughts of your body, he moves one hand slowly down your midsection, pausing right above your pelvic area. You want to rub your thighs together, hell, you want to touch yourself- no screw that, you need him to fuck you right here and right now. A floodgate of desire opens up within you and you need his cock inside of you. Now.
“Jay please, please fuck me. I need you inside me. I need to feel you.” It came out whinier than you initially intended, but now’s not the time to dwell on one’s tone.
Completely and utterly satisfied with his victory, Jay lines his cock up with your entrance, the tip of his head brushing past your folds and picking up the slick coming out of you. Moaning with the contact, as little as it may be, you try to scoot down further to feel him against your clit. But he holds your hips down firmly in place. You’re not going anywhere unless he wants you to move.
Jay pauses and turns around, grabbing your pillow. You push on your feet, lifting your ass off the bed so that he can rest the pillow underneath there. Now, slightly elevated, he has a better angle and a straight accessway to your g-spot.
Leaning forward, Jay lightly wraps his fingers around your throat, squeezing lightly. Your eyes flutter backwards, already at risk of coming undone from the buildup alone. His pointer finger is pressing right where the sensitive spot on your neck is underneath your ear and it takes everything you have to keep yourself from moaning like a sick person.
The head of his cock teases your entrance once more, getting closer and closer until literally just the tip goes inside before he abruptly pulls back out.
“Please. No more teasing.” You beg, wiggling your shoulders as you pout.
“Not so funny now that you’re on the other end, huh?” Jay lowly chuckles and that’s when he thrusts his hips forward, his cock sliding right into you.
“Oh!” You yell as the tip brushes against your g-spot instantly. Your gasp gets caught in your throat because of his hand around your neck and you nearly swallow your own words. The restricted airways has your head feeling lighter than normal and it gives you a new high that’s impossible to feel if he would have done this without his hand squeezing your neck. Your walls contract instinctually around him, desperately trying to adjust to his length and girth. The light tug feels so satisfying and you grip his forearms tightly, fingernails leaving small half-moon shaped marks in his skin.
“Ugh, you’re so wet and still so tight,” Jay whines and slowly moves his hips back and forth, not enough to remove the head of his cock from you, but enough to brush against your bundle of nerves over and over and over again. He releases his hand from your neck and moves it down on the bed to support himself as he quickens his pace. 
Arching your back already, you shut your eyes tightly as you try to keep yourself from coming too soon.
Not quite sure if it’s the angle, the day, or the way he’s rhythmically moving his hips, but this all feels too good. Even more so than sex with Jay usually is. The way he's pounding you into the mattress has your body contorting in what should be inhuman ways. Your arms bend as you grip the sheets above your head, your back arches in a possessed like manner as Jay continues to use his cock to send you over the edge. Sex has never felt this good before. He has never made you feel this good before. Your body is shaking- no, vibrating as you feel that white heat getting closer and closer. Your breath hitches in your throat before you let out the most pornarific moan you've ever heard in your life. Upon hearing you, Jay stutters inside you, his orgasm hitting him harder than he expected. You're still coming down from your own high, the dark spots in the corners of your vision are finally disappearing.
"Holy fuck," Jay pants as he slowly removes himself from you. “You’ve never made that sound before.” He’s sitting back on his heels once more, staring at you with a look of wonder. There’s a spark in his eyes, one that you recognize, and you stifle a laugh knowing what’s about to come next.
“Inspired?” You smile.
“Immensely,” he delights. His fingers start to tap rhythmically against his thighs as he looks over to his music equipment in the corner of the room. In the most innocent and inoffensive way, he’s long forgotten you as his creative mind kicks into overdrive.
“Go.” You yawn. “I’m gonna go back to sleep.”
Jay leans down and gives you a quick kiss on your temple, leaving the bed to quickly pull on his sweatpants and seating himself in his chair, firing up his computer and putting on his headphones.
Your eyes droop slower and slower, getting heavier each time you blink. The last thing you see before sleep takes you is your boyfriend leaning forward in his chair, back muscles rippling as he lights a cigarette, the smoke swirling up towards the ceiling as he exhales, dancing through the fringe of his bangs as it ascends.
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“Ugh!”
Your eyes shoot open, sleep being yanked away from you by a loud bang and the yell from Jay. Sitting up, you see your boyfriend’s fists clenched tightly, resting on either side of his keyboard. His face is red, the vein on his temple starting to bulge and his shoulders are hunched so far that his shoulders are almost touching his ears.
“Jay? What’s wrong?” You rub your fists into your eyes, trying to keep the grumpiness of being abruptly woken up at bay.
“Oh, baby. I’m so sorry I didn’t mean to wake you up.” He slides his headphones off his ears so that they’re sitting at the base of his neck. The ends of his hair is coated with sweat, the tips of his ears red from the headphones being on for too long. Pivoting his chair towards you, you can see the stress lines on his forehead and the strain in his eyes. There’s a nearly finished cigarette tucked between his fingers at the knuckles and a few finished ones lying in the ashtray by his keyboard. He huffs on the one in his hand quickly before putting it out in said ashtray and then climbs onto the bed to sit across from you, his knees touching yours.
"I've been working on this track for the past three hours now. I just can't get the pitch right." He shakes his head in defeat, a long sigh leaving his lips as he does so.
"This happens all the time, but it’s okay. You always get it in the end." You try to sound encouraging but instead your voice comes off dull and uninterested.
Jay's mouth pulls to the right side of his face, making the lines by his cheeks and dimple deepen. "This one is different. I'm already starting to forget how you sounded."
Baffled, you tilt your head to the side and nervously laugh. "Me? I thought I dreamt that!"
"Yes you! I've never heard anything more...more...more," he snaps his fingers as he tries to think of the right word, "more exhilarating! It was dramatic. It was sexy, inspiring even. It was a sound that could tell anyone what you're feeling. It's pure bliss." His fingers absentmindedly make their way to the divot on the inside of your knee, rubbing slow deep circles into your skin. On a regular day, the touch would barely be noticed. Right now, on the other hand, his touch ignites a fire in your blood, raising your body temperature to a whole new degree. It's suddenly hard to swallow and you're very, very aware that you are watching as his lips form words as he speaks, barely comprehending said words at all. The way his jaw moves and the way his mouth molds around each syllable and seeing flashes of his tongue gently touch the rooftop of his mouth.
"Y/N? You fall asleep with your eyes open again?"
You're brought back down to earth, blinking rapidly as you feel your boyfriend softly shake your shoulder.
"Sorry," you rub your eyes and suppress the urge to yawn, "I guess I'm still tired."
"Let me tuck you in." He goes to lay you back down and you gladly let him.
"Here," you mumble, lips barely moving and eyes already shut. You let the weight of your arm bounce against his side of the bed . "You should sleep too. Take a break. Work later."
He doesn't respond but his weight is still on the end of the bed. You can feel the dip and you just want him to lie down already.
"Jaaayyy," you whine, eyes still closed.
"I think," his pitch has changed, a low murmur making your eyes pop open wide immediately. You know that tone. You know it all too well and your body starts to overheat again, "I want to do something else."
Slowly lifting your head, you intend to look into his eyes, but you're very quickly misguided as you watch your boyfriend slowly pumping at his cock, quickly making himself go from semi hard to fully hard in mere seconds. His blue boxers rest below his hip bones, giving yourself a full display on the thing that is going to wreck you into the next dimension momentarily.
"O-oh." You sit there frozen, unsure of what to do next.
"I know I just fucked you but honestly? I can do better." There's a devilish smirk painted onto that beautiful face of his and you've never been more excited to be a sinner.
You match his smirk and use your feet to kick the covers off the bed and before you're done with the action, he's on top of you. Lips that usually feather lightly across your body now hungrily nip and lick over your rib cage, around your hip bones below your stomach line, and over the swell of your collar bones. Each nip and pull makes you shiver beneath him, your hands tracing over the muscles on his back. Your legs come up and hug his hips, now trapping him in place. One of Jay's hands grabs a fistful of your yellow night shorts, tugging them to the side but not necessarily taking them off. His thumb digs into your hip bone while he kisses around your breasts. The closeness of his fingers to your core is driving your body absolutely mad. You're already so turned on and ready to be touched and you know that he knows that that's what you want.
And yet…
His tongue delicately swirls your nipple and you hold your breath for a moment. The coolness of the air mixed in with his saliva makes you feel chills throughout your entire body. He flattens his tongue directly on the tip of your nipple as he squeezes the other breast with his hand and you quickly move your hands from his back and into his soft black hair. You grip tightly at his roots, already feeling your back start to arch as he continues to lick and lap at the hardening buds on your chest.
"Hmm...already?" He chuckles as he takes your nipple between his teeth.
"Hnng," You groan out and grip his hair tighter. Your breathing shallows and your body can't decide what it wants. You want him to rub your clit oh so badly but you don't want him to stop massaging your breasts. The way his tongue swirls around your nipple is almost too good. No one should be this talented with their mouth.
He moves to the side of your breasts and leaves love bites in an array of patterns on your skin.
"Why'd you stop?" You gasp and grip his shoulders. The love bites feel great, they definitely don't help the surge of arousal going straight down into your shorts, but you know you were close to coming and you've never come from nipple stimulation alone.
"You weren't moaning how I wanted you to. Ah- which...actually reminds me..." And just like that, his body is off of yours, taking the heat with him. Getting off the bed, Jay opens one of his desk drawers and removes a small microphone with a clip. You watch as he gathers the necessary chords, no ordinary recording device would do. He quickly attaches one end of the chords into his computer and fishes the rest of the line out as he walks back towards the bed. Still holding the hand sized device, he places his knees on either side of your hips, giving you a full view of his beautifully erected cock. You mentally note that he has definitely shaved recently, his skin looking so soft and kissable. The thought of kissing and sucking at the areas around the base of his cock makes your mouth water. While he busies himself with trying to find a way for the microphone to rest on top of the headboard without falling, you help yourself to a little taste of him.
The tip of his cock is salty with precum and you lick your lips quickly to lubricate them. Jay's hips instinctively flinch backwards, but once he looks down and sees what you're doing, all he does is smirk and continue to work on setting up the microphone.
You slowly insert the head of his cock onto the top of your tongue just inside your mouth. Exhaling, you let your warm breath fall across his shaft and small goosebumps appear at his midsection. Taking a long stripe from the base of his cock and back to the head, you avoid any chastising about teasing by promptly inserting him fully into your mouth, slowly and inch by inch allowing him to sink further and further back into your throat. You go until the tip of your nose and your lips touch his midsection, his length now fully submerged in your throat.
"Jesus you're not playing around tonight aren't you?"
You hum a response that makes his hips sputter, a stuttering groan leaving his lips quickly followed by a whispered ‘fuck’.
Slowly moving your head back, you go until the tip is almost past your lips before moving back down his shaft. You keep up the slow pace, mostly to annoy him and also to insure that he doesn't come anytime soon.
His hands, without warning, are weaving through your hair as you swirl your tongue around his tip. He guides you, quickening your pace and he continues to hit the back of your throat over. And over. And over-
Jay pulls himself back and his cock is out of your mouth.
"You're a sneaky little devil. You almost had me." He wags his finger at your face, making small tsk tsk noises with his mouth as he recenters himself and pulls his boxers up, hiding his beautiful cock from view. "Now, where was I?" He leans back towards the microphone and turns it on, a bright red light blinking up on the side. Adjusting the angle one last time, he's finally happy with his setup.
"Do you know what this is for?" He points to it and gets off the bed. Humoring him, you shake your head no.
"I need you to make that sound you made earlier. Do you understand? I don't want it. I need it."
Worriedly, you realize he's heading towards the closet and fear and excitement root into your chest as you watch him bend down to the last drawer of the dresser and take out a shoe box.
Sauntering back to the bed, he carelessly throws the shoe box onto the bed and some of its contents fall out. A bright blue vibrator as long as your forearm is the first you see followed up by light gray fuzzy handcuffs. There's more in the box, at least half a dozen other toys that Jay only likes to break out when he feels like you need to be punished, or if he needs a specific reaction from your body.
Right now, you're thinking it might be both options.
Jay picks up the handcuffs and looks them over in his hands. He's acting as if he's never used them on you before and that in itself is thrilling because now, you don't know what's going to happen next.
Pulling out three more pairs from the box, he wordlessly cuffs your wrists and ankles to the bedposts while you willingly, and wordlessly, allow him.
Still without words, he moves back to the bed. That's when you notice how steady his breathing is. And although appearing to be calm under a heated situation, his cock continues to throb and twitch, the head surely getting redder and angrier by the second underneath his boxers.
His hands are moving down your body, feeling every curve, reading every detail in your skin as if he were reading braille. Fingers dip inside your waistband, hooking around the material before sliding them down your legs, annoyedly realizing that he should have removed them before cuffing you to the bed. Without blinking, he grasps the material between his hands and tears the fabric as if it were nothing more than a single sheet of paper. The anticipation of his touch is driving you crazy and you're never going to get over the fact that your boyfriend has now literally torn your clothes off your body in order to get you naked.
"Please, babe," you pull at your restraints, the fuzzy padding protecting your wrists from any real harm and you try your best to spread your legs out further for him, "touch me."
Unresponsive, Jay eyes your core, looking at it in a way a man starved looks at a loaf of bread. His hands are on your thighs now, deeply kneading your muscles with his fingertips. His thumbs graze over bruises from previous escapades and it feels borderline euphoric.
"Touch me." You repeat and watch angrily as he remains unresponsive. His hands dip lower, over your knees and down to your shins. Desperation bubbles up from within the pits of your belly and rises until you feel it fester in your throat until you can't keep it down any longer.
"Touch me!" You yell and not so gently nudge his side with your leg. Finally, he looks up at your face and chuckles under his breath.
"So needy," he says with disappointment, but a smile paints softly across his face. "So ungrateful and so spoiled."
Jay's hands move quickly, fingers suddenly grip tightly at your hips as he raises up your lower half until it's level with his face. You bite on your bottom lip to keep yourself from yelping as his fingernails scratch into your skin before moving to support your weight by cupping your ass. You can feel his hot breath hovering over your clit, making you feel just how truly wet you are. Jay gulps down hard, looking as if being presented with a grand holiday meal.
"You're glistening, baby," he groans, proceeding to attach his lips onto your clit. The moment his tongue makes contact with your slickness, you inhale quickly. Finally, finally some contact.
He swirls his tongue slowly around your clit, no longer making direct contact. Gathering as much juices as he can, he spits it back out onto your clit. Warm mixes with cold and you sit up quickly only to be pushed back down by your boyfriend's strong hands. He keeps his hand on your chest right below your collarbone as he uses his other hand to wipe your juices and his spit around your clit.
It's so wet you almost miss the feeling of his bare hands.
"So, so messy." He tsks at you and continues his movements. "What am I going to do with you, Y/n? Hmm?"
You stay silent at the sound of your name instead of his usual pet names for you. His piercing brown eyes stare deep within yours as he continues to stroke you.
"Do I let you come from my fingers? From my tongue? From my cock? What will make you make that pretty...pretty sound again?"
You whimper as he inserts a single finger into your hole, your vagina naturally clenching around the digit. It's not enough. It's not enough. It's not enough.
Jay chuckles and you know he's finding humor in the way he has you wrapped around his finger...well...quite literally. He knows how weak you are when it comes to him, knows you'll do anything for him and knows exactly what to do to make you feel good.
"Are you going to be a good girl and make that pretty sound again? Hm? For me?" He inserts another finger and slowly curls them inside you, beckoning you towards him and touching that spongey bundle of nerves that sends you straight into the heavens.
"I'll try!" You cry out, wishing that he would apply more pressure inside of you so that you can finally release the orgasm that has been building up bigger and bigger. You’re honestly not sure if you can make the same moaning sound that he’s referring to because, quite honestly, you have no idea what you sounded like in the first place.
Jay pushes down your hips that you weren't aware you had raised upward. He keeps his free hand there while he quickens his pace with the other. The beautiful and sinful acts that his fingers can do to your body are coming into effect as you start to shake beneath him. Your breathing is more ragged than ever and you pull as hard as you can at your restraints without caring if it'll hurt you later. The coil deep within your body starts getting tighter and tighter, readying itself to break and unfurl.
You open your mouth to let out a deep, long moan but right as the sound erupts out of your mouth and into existence, Jay pulls his fingers out of you and sits back, completely untouching you.
Your orgasm disappears in a snap and you groan out angrily.
“Okay what the fuck,” you sound angrier than you intended. 
“Can’t let you come like that. It’s too easy.” He looks at the bed and pushes past some of the toys until he finds one that breaks out that devilishly handsome smile that you love oh so much.
In his hand he’s holding a simple, small, white vibrator.
Now, vibrators aren’t your favorite and he’s well aware of this. You come too quickly and aren’t able to savor that sweet build up feeling of fire within your lower half, that numbness that overtakes the tips of your toes and makes you want to kick them straight into a wall. The fact that he picked this out of the box of other torturing devices means that he plans on making you come. A lot. And in a short period of time.
Upon realizing his intention you think about pleading with him to use something else, anything else. The tiredness behind your eyes creeps up slower than the night, but it does not slow its pace. You want to come. You want to make him come. And then you want to sleep wrapped up tightly in your boyfriend’s arms.
Jay turns the vibrator on and watches as it purrs to life in his hands. He strokes the length of it as if it were the back of a cat. Now, looking at you, he grins, showing his pearly white teeth and another wave of arousal washes over you. Power exuberates from every inch of his body as he saunters back over to you. A bead of sweat forms at your temple and slowly slides down past your cheekbone. It tickles and makes you shiver, but you don't take your eyes off Jay.
"Are you ready?" he says softly upon reaching the edge of the bed. Standing in between your legs, he waits for your response.
You sigh, "yes," and let the muscles in your legs relax.
Jay places the tip of the vibrator on your left thigh and you moan immediately at the touch, feeling the sensation creep up to your core. The vibrator stays in place for a few moments while Jay watches your expressions intently. His eyebrows are furrowed so deeply that they almost touch and his mouth is scrunched together and pushed to the side. This has become more than sexual pleasure.
This is a science experiment.
"How does it feel when I do this?" he queries and moves the vibrator slowly up your thigh and stops just before it touches your core.
"It feels...torturous." Your hips start to shake purely from lack of physical contact where you need it the most. You try to hold in your pouts, try to hold in your pleading, but if your clit goes any longer without getting relief you're going to lose your mind.
"Good." And then right as you're about to beg for him to touch you, the vibrator is thrust right on your clit with a strong unmoving pressure.
Your hips roll forward and you don't have time to think before you cry out and feel your orgasm come and go quicker than you can blink. The vibrations run deeply through your body and after waiting so long, you just couldn't hold on.
"Whoa. Record time." Jay smarts but keeps the vibrator on you.
As you come down it starts to feel uncomfortable. Overstimulation is not something you're able to have the patience or willpower for.
“You can keep going,” Jay encourages and increases the speed on the vibrator. You whimper and look at him anxiously as your whole body begins to tremble.
“Moan for me, baby. Don’t hide those pretty sounds from me.”
They’re not moans quite yet. It starts off as small gasps as your body desperately tries to adjust to the overstimulation, angry when it realizes it can’t. That’s when the tears prick your eyes. You try to be tough and hold on but you feel another orgasm being forced from your body and you cry out in pleasured agony.
Jay removes the vibrator mid orgasm and your muscles immediately collapse into the bed. Panting harder than a dog on a hot summer day, you truly hope that that was the sound he’s looking for.
“Hmmm...not quite…”
“Please, Jay. Let me help you come. Forget about the sound. Let's get you off so we can go back to sleep.” Your throat feels hoarse as you talk from lack of water or the intense screams and moans, you’re not sure. Perhaps a mixture of all of it. Either way, you’re tired and you wish you could help him, but this project seems like a lost cause.
“Rest for a second. I need to listen to something.” He moves quickly to his computer, putting his headphones on crooked and clicking away at the screen. Your body is too tired to watch what he’s doing.
A few moments pass before Jay stands up again and you notice a freshly lit cigarette in his hand.
“I’m sorry, Y/n. I’ll untie you-” Jay pauses mid step and mid sentence and stares at the cigarette in his hand, quickly looking to your naked body, and then back at the cigarette.
"What's wrong?" You strain your head to try to meet his gaze but he's off in another world. His lips move as he mumbles lowly to himself, words incomprehensible to you from this far away. Taking a long drag from the cigarette, he holds in the smoke as he observes the cancer stick before walking closer to you. He’s sworn to quit so many times, but claims the nicotine helps him stay focused when he works on long projects. It’s not a favorable habit, but you just cannot deny how sexy he looks while taking a long drag from a cigarette and letting the smoke swirl out of his pretty lips. It fits his artistic rockstar image a little too well.
Finally you're able to catch: "that wouldn't be messed up...would it?"
"What wouldn't be messed up?" Annoyance is a nice way to put how you're feeling right now. You're just laying here, tied up and your boyfriend is only five feet away from you, completely ignoring your existence. Unfortunately he does this often; spacing out, talking to himself, unable to sense his surroundings. When it's music related it's admirable. When you're involved? Straight up annoying. But it’s even worse when the two are combined.
"I have...a crazy idea. Please let me know if it's too out there and we'll discard it immediately."
You gulp down what feels to be a big rock in your throat that doesn't want to be swallowed. His tone is cautious yet excited and he doesn't look you directly in the eyes but off to the side of your head.
"What is it?" You say slowly, wishing more than ever that you could sit up and talk to him face to face.
Jay brings his cigarette up in front of his face, his eyes concentrating hard on the object in front of him.
"I want to use the cigarette ash as a stimulant on you."
Immediately the first thing that comes to mind is 'what the actual fuck'. You've never heard of anyone using any part of cigarettes as a form of sexual pleasure. But then you let your mind breathe for a second and the idea sounds rather...arousing? Just the thought of Jay flicking his cigarette ash onto your body sounds so degrading and he usually doesn't dip in that direction sexually.
He's carefully watching your face now, looking for any sign that you're not on board with this.
You smile.
"Where on my body?" You say seductively. His eyes light up, that same sexual deviant smile back onto his face. Excitement is evident as his chest rises and falls at a quicker pace. And finally, finally, he walks towards you, that cigarette held loosely between his fingers.
His shadow casts over your midsection as he towers above you. One arm crosses his chest while his other arm, the one with the cigarette, rests on top. It looks like he's about to take another drag but stops himself just before it touches his lips.
"I was thinking...your nipples?"
Your mouth immediately starts to water and your legs involuntarily shift, wanting ever so badly to rub together. Suddenly you're hyper aware of how hard your nipples are. They're like little gumdrops resting on top of your breasts and when you close your eyes you can still feel the wetness of Jay's tongue as he swirled his tongue around them.
Most people use candle wax or ice cubes as nipple stimulants.
But then again, you and Jay aren't most people.
"Please. Do it." Eagerly, you roll your hips forward and jut your chest forward towards him. A deep hunger is rooted in his eyes as he takes a quick huff, blowing the smoke up towards the ceiling before climbing onto the bed. Your heart is beating fast and hard in your chest as you wait for him to make his next move.
Jay’s cock twitches back to life, a newfound surge of want coursing through his veins while your body reacts the same. He quickly checks to make sure his microphone is still on and then puts the cigarette between his lips. He gives himself a quick pump as he moves closer to your body.
Forget the cigarette ash, you think to yourself. You want him.
And he apparently wants you too.
Jay’s hands move expeditiously down the sides of your body, running over your hips and down your thighs as he positions himself between your legs. He uses the head of his cock to rub against your swollen clit, your hips bucking with the sudden contact. Unlike previously, Jay is in no mood to take his time. After rubbing up and down your folds a few times, he uses your slick as lubrication and promptly inserts himself into your hole. He grunts deeply as he bottoms out and you’re left gasping as your body adjusts to his size. Jay rests his chin on top of your head as he breathes heavily around the cigarette hanging crooked in his mouth, away from your hair. The smoke wafts around you and slightly burns your nostrils but you love it.
He’s addicted to cigarettes.
You’re addicted to him.
After giving himself a moment, Jay finally starts to move, rocking his hips slowly back and forth to generate some momentum. A deep moan gurgles from the back of his throat and you can see in his eyes how difficult it is for him to hold himself back.
The air in the room gets stuffy with the heat of your bodies mixed in with the smoke. It makes you both pant harder, faster.
“I can’t take it anymore,” Jay growls and sits back, his cock unfortunately slipping out of you. He takes your legs and sets your feet against his shoulders and realigns himself with your entrance. Without giving you both time to adjust, he slams deep within you, your body jolting in response as he hits your sensitive spot.
“Fuck!” He yells and quickens his pace, his cock relentlessly filling every inch of space within you. Small whimpers move past your lips and a fire lights behind Jay’s eyes.
“What was that? I can’t hear you?” As his hips continue to rock into you, he grabs the microphone off the top of the headboard and shoves it in your face. With his other hand he takes a drag from his cigarette, blowing the smoke to the side before leaning down, hovering the cigarette a few inches above one of your nipples.
You look up at him hopefully and you’re open to tell him it’s okay when he taps his pointer finger on top of the cigarette, gray ash tumbling down towards your body.
“Ah!” You exclaim as the ash hits the peak of your breast. The initial impact of the ash to your skin makes your body panic, completely unused to the sensation. But then, it feels erotic. The nerves in your nipples sing with pleasure and your back arches as the warmth sinks deeply into you. You watch as your breasts bounce with each thrust Jay gives you and the ash rolls down onto your chest.
He continues thrusting and taking drags from his cigarette despite looking winded and exhausted. The headboard bangs against the wall, mirroring the thunder still booming in the distance. Soft groans and moans fill the room until Jay pushes your legs closer to your face, going deeper inside of you.
“Dear god your pussy is just too good. You’re still so wet after everything else. Always wet for my cock aren’t you?” His thrusts are getting longer, sloppier.
“Always. I love your cock,” you exhaustedly whisper. You can feel that coil deep inside you wanting to unspring so badly and only Jay can get you there.
He takes a final drag from his cigarette and flicks the biggest chunk of ash towards your nipple. You moan out as it makes contact at the same time the tip of his cock kisses deeply against your cervix, a high pitched moan that makes your eyes roll backwards.
And then he presses his thumb on top of your nipple, smearing the ash on top of you and right as he does it he thrusts so hard and deeply into you and holds himself there.
“F-uh-uck!” You sputter out the mother of all moans as your orgasm rips through you making you see a bright flash of white.
“Oh shit!” Jay grunts and thick ropes of cum spill inside you.
You both take a moment to regain your breaths. Then Jay removes your legs from his shoulders, setting you down gently and fully removing himself from you. He moves to his desk and puts his cigarette butt into the ashtray and his microphone next to the keyboard. He takes a moment and places his fists behind his back right at his hip bones and leans back until a satisfying crack sounds out through the room.
Jay looks back at you with complete adoration in his eyes, a natural smile forming on his lips as he puckers them to give you an air kiss. Promptly untying you from your restraints, he rubs small circles into your wrists after he frees you, the pressure soothing your aching joints.
“I love you,” he mutters tenderly and places a kiss on top of your forehead.
“I love you too.” You smile.
He gets up and heads to the bathroom while you remain on the bed. You hear the bath turn on and run rapidly and the sound makes you feel the sleep wanting to pull you back in. You can't feel your thighs or any part of your lower half for that matter, but yet your muscles still tremble from the overwhelming aftermath of your multiple orgasms. Gazing upward, the white ceiling looks so dull above you and yet, somehow, comforting. Your mind instinctively tries to find pictures within the grooves but it proves to be too much work for your brain right now. So you go back to just staring absentmindedly. Jay is saying something from the bathroom but your brain is too tired to focus on what it was he was saying exactly. Body still trembling, you close your eyes and will for sleep to take you.
But then hands are on your body, lifting your head off the pillow. And then you're being carried, your body feeling weightless. You groan out for your bed, wanting nothing more than to be completely buried in blankets as sleep overcomes you.
The bathroom light has been dimmed and some of your favorite scented candles are lit on the counter. An aroma of lemon and rose petals waft throughout the room. You breathe in deeply through your nose and sigh out of your mouth, your body melting in your boyfriend's arms.
Jay gently places your feet on the mat in front of the freestanding soaking bathtub. There's mountains of bubbles already rising on top of the water and you can't wait to sink down into it.
Jay uses his hand to grip your elbow, guiding you as you put one foot in the water and then the other.
You sit up front where the faucet is dumping soothing warm water. You put your hands together and let the stream pool into your palms and run over your skin. This is total bliss and your aching muscles begin to relax happily.
Water splashes behind you and you turn around to see Jay getting into the bath as well. You smile at him before turning back around and picking up a handful of bubbles.
"What shampoo do you want? The good smelly one or the deep clean one?" Jay holds both bottles in either hand, looking back and forth between the two.
You look back at him and tiredly try to decide. The “good smelly one” is peach while the deep cleaning one is a tea tree extract.
"Would it be weird if I combined both? It honestly might be really good." He awaits your input.
"Both are fine." You nod your head and turn back to the front. You turn off the water and lay your arms over both edges of the tub.
Gentle hands run down your hair from the top of your head down to the tips before returning to your scalp. His fingers massage the shampoos into your head and a low wistful grumble escapes your throat. You feel the shampoo lathering in your hair and the way Jay's fingers move with purpose has you closing your eyes in pure bliss. He uses the pads of his fingers to massage deeply into your skull, nearly lulling you to sleep.
His hands leave your hair and you hear the clicking of another cap opening and then it clicks shut a moment after. His hands are back on your body but this time they're on your shoulders. A strong lavender smell enters your nostrils and it dawns on you that he's massaging your soothing body wash into your skin.
It's silent in the bathroom except for the small droplets of water tinkling from the faucet into the tub. It's not an eerie silence, it's almost tranquil.
You spend a bit more time in the bathtub together. Jay completely taking care of you to wash off every trace of cigarette ash that was left on your body. His hands soothingly rub alongst every inch of your body.
“I’m ready to get out,” you sigh. You’re leaning against Jay’s chest, his bare skin comforting against your own, “before I completely fall asleep in here.”
“Okay. Let me get out first and grab your towel.” He attentively lifts your body forward to give himself some room to emerge from the bath. Water runs off his body and onto the tile floor as he crosses the room for his towel first. You pull the drain plug in the bath and watch as a tiny whirlpool appears.
After aggressively rubbing the towel in his hair, Jay wraps it around his waist to cover himself, his hair looking static as it sticks out in every which way. He grabs you a fresh towel from the cupboard, the fluffy white one you usually save for special self care relaxation days.
Padding his way back over to you, he drapes the white towel in both of his arms and holds it out, waiting to envelope you in it once you step out.
You stand up slowly, clutching the edges of the tub as you push yourself up. Your legs are still quite shaky. For the most part they still feel pretty numb. You lift one leg up carefully and find your footing on the tile before gingerly taking out your other leg. Jay wraps you tightly in the soft towel that could honestly be a blanket if one chose to do so. You sigh into it, your muscles relaxing as Jay dries you off.
“Let’s get you to bed. We can watch a movie.” After he says it, Jay pauses to look at you. Afraid that something is on your face, your hand touches your cheek questionably. He reaches up and moves his hand under yours so that he’s cupping your cheek, his thumb tracing softly against your cheekbone.
“I love you,” he says softly before leaning in and kissing your lips. As soon as your lips touch it feels like you’re melting into him all over again. And all too soon, the kiss is over.
Swiftly, he picks you up bridal style and carries you to bed as you giggle and cling to his neck. He lightly places you back onto the bed and pulls back the covers and quickly throws them over your body once you’re comfortable. Jay adjusts your pillow to make sure your head stays straight and makes sure every one of your toes is snuggled and warm before handing you the TV remote and then walking towards the door.
“What snack do you want?” He calls from the door frame, his hand lightly brushing against the soft pastel yellow paint.
“Surprise me!” You call as you flip through the different genre suggestions, your brain not even registering what the titles are.
After giving up and picking a random movie, Jay walks in with some water bottles and a bag of pretzels and climbs into bed next to you.
“Don’t you want to get back to your music?” You inquire as you grab a handful of pretzels. He gets himself comfortable next to you by adjusting his pillow, grabbing a fistful of pretzels himself once he’s done.
“Nah. That can wait. I just want to be here with you.” He smiles before popping a piece of the tasty snack into his mouth.
Your heart swells knowing how much he wants to be back in that chair working his magic. Normally you couldn’t drag him away from that stupid computer. So you don’t push it and snuggle in deeper next to him, letting your head fall against his shoulder.
Together you munch away, forgetting about sleep entirely, and listening as the thunder grumbles in the distance.
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a/n: thank you for reading! i hope you enjoyed :] if you did please reblog and leave a comment!
♡ masterlist
© all rights reserved. do not copy, modify, translate, or repost. jayparked 09/05/24
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planetaryupscaled · 6 months ago
Text
Honeymoon 1: Guilty Pleasure
Male Reader x Yunjin x Somi
Tags: 8k, anal, cheating, creampie, oral, squirt
The story is not ours; we simply alter the original story to our preferred settings.
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It’s hard to wake up in a more relaxing way than I just had. Lying on a soft comfortable bed in the bedroom of the expensive suite I was renting. The sounds of ocean waves crashing on the beach coming in through the open balcony door. Though the part best of all was the feeling of tight feminine lips wrapped around my dick as my cock was being blown.
I let out a moan as I opened my eyes, and I used pillows to sit up and look down my body. I was still naked from last night’s activities, and the sheets had been thrown aside. Down around my waist was also a naked body of a thin fit woman. I could see her cute nude ass, and she had legs crossed and kicked up in the air. She moved her red hair out of her face, it revealed her brown eyes, looking up at me. Though she continued to suck me, her stretched lips did seem to smile a bit when she noticed I was awake. She kept going for a few more seconds before releasing my pole from her mouth.
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“Morning husband,” she said with a big smile, obviously enjoying getting to say those words. We had gotten married only two days ago, and now we were enjoying our honeymoon at an exclusive private resort. The hotel had many amenities, but the best of which was that its security kept photographers away and guests knew better than to take photos of others as they enjoyed their own privacy.
“I could really enjoy waking up every day like this.”
“I bet you could,” she said as her hands took over working my rod from her mouth. “I had to wake you up, and this seemed like the most fun way. You need to hurry up and finish though, we only have 30 minutes until they stop serving breakfast.”
“Or… we just call for room service, and then really enjoy ourselves in the shower while we wait for it to arrive.”
“See, that’s one of the reasons I love you. You always have such great ideas.” Yunjin than happily went back to sucking my cock. I had to remind her a few minutes later that I still had to order the food. She let my erection slip back out of her mouth and told me what she wanted for breakfast then headed to the in the shower to get ready for me. I called in the order and told them that there was no rush on the order since I was about to take a shower.
Walking into the bathroom I saw my new wife under the spray of water. “Babe, next time we sneak out and have sex on the beach we need to make sure and bring towels or a blanket or something. I still have sand in my hair from last night” Yunjin yelled over the sound of the shower. I just stood and watched as she twirled in the large shower stall letting the water rinse off the soap suds.
When she wiped the water from her eyes, she saw me standing against the wall watching her. Yunjin gave me a flirtatious look and bit her lip. She then stepped up and pressed her delicious tits up against the glass and gave me the come here signal with her finger. I quickly followed her command and got in the shower with her. She spun around to face me and we made out under the spay of the water. I moved her back as we kissed until she was up against the glass wall. Then I could not help myself but to bend down and take one of her nipples into my mouth. I was still obsessed with how perfect her tits were, and she loved how I loved her tits. I could go for a while playing with them, and playing with her, but she had already gotten me very worked up and we had food on the way, so I flipped her around. Knowing what was coming, Yunjin bent at the waist a bit and stuck out her ass as she braced herself up against the glass. Taking hold of her hips I pulled her back and push my hips forward. We both moaned in pleasure as my cock entered her. After all the sex we’d had since we’d been together, her pussy fit me like a glove.
“Oh god yes,” Yunjin said repeatedly as I pounded her from behind. Our bodies were in perfect sync, her pushing her ass back right as I pushed my hips forward causing the sounds of our sex echoed in the bathroom. When I knew she was getting close to her orgasm I moved my hand around to rub her clit until I finally felt the familiar feeling of her pussy clenching around my cock as she climaxed. As she came, I grabbed her arms and pulled them behind her body. With nothing else holding her up, Yunjin once again found herself with her tits pushed up against the glass. This time instead of silently motioning for me to join her, she was loudly moaning as I used her body. I kept hammering her from behind until I was all but about to cum. I let go of her arms and pulled out, thinking I’d just cum all over her ass this time, but my wife had other ideas. She spun around and dropped to her knees. Wrapping her lips around my cock, she pushed my hand away from my dick and took hold of it herself. She began jacking off my dick with her tongue probing the head of my dick, all the while her eyes looked up at me with a look that seemed to be pleading me to cum. I didn’t hold back and fired my load in her mouth, which like so many times before she happily accepted and swallowed.
“Well, I got my morning protein,” she joked when it was over.
“Ha, yeah… Oh, shit the room service.” I said as I jumped out of the shower and wrapped myself in a towel. When I walked out of the bathroom, I saw that they had left a cart with our breakfast just inside the door. We had our breakfast, of course, Yunjin decided to have it naked and let her body air dry after she found out they already delivered the food. Afterward we got dressed and headed out to into the resort. We stopped in on a few of the shops and then walked along the beach. I’ll freely admit, we were totally acting like that couple you hate to be around. We had our arms wrapped tightly one another as we walked everywhere, there were tons of public displays of affection. I normally would have hated us for being that couple, but we were on our honeymoon and Yunjin was in a particularly lovey-dovey mood so I just went with it.
We were pretty much attached at the hip until mid-afternoon. We had dinner reservations tonight and Yunjin wanted to go to the salon for a mani/pedi. With time to myself, I hung out at the beach. The suite we were rented also came with a private cabana, so I relaxed and did some reading in there. After a little while, I got up and headed over to the bar to get myself a drink. As I approached the bar, I couldn't help but notice the blondie standing there ordering a drink. Yeah, I couldn’t help but notice her, I mean notice that really nice ass in her small bikini bottoms cut.
“Getting a good look?” I apparently had looked a little too long because the woman had looked around while waiting on her drink, and had caught me looking at her ass.
“I...um...shit, sorry.” I apologize as she looked at me through her big sunglasses. As she turned around fully, I couldn’t help but check out the rest of her. Compared to Yunjin, she had a whiter complexion, perky breast, a bigger ass, and she was about as tall barefoot as Yunjin was in heels. “I guess I should almost take it as a compliment that I can get the guy honeymooning with Yunjin to check me out.”
“You know who I am?” I asked as I leaned against the bar next to her.
“Of course. This resort isn’t that big, and security doesn’t stop guest them from gossiping like high schoolers.” It was not until she raised her sunglasses and I saw her eyes did I realize who it was I was talking to.
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“Oh, Somi. wow.”
“So you know who I am too?” She asked flirtatiously.
“Of course, I’m a fan actually. I surprised Yunjin with tickets to your concert last summer.” Somi stayed and talked with me even after she had gotten her drink and I ordered two mojitos, We ended up both taking a seat at the bar and chatting even after my drink arrived.
“So what do you do, for work?”
“I work for advertising agency.”
“Huh? So what’s your connection to the entertainment industry?”
“None, unless you include Yunjin.”
“Hmmm.”
“What?” I asked she was obviously probing for some bit of information.
“It’s nothing. Just trying to figuring out what Yunjin sees in you.”
“Well fuck you too.”
Somi laughed. “I’m sorry that sounded bad. I mean you’re handsome and all, and in pretty good shape. If we meet at a bar and you started hitting on me, I sure wouldn’t stop you. It’s just that...well, generally we don’t end up with people outside the entertainment industry. When they do, it usually comes back to one of two reasons.”
“Oh yeah, what are those?” I asked curious to hear her theory.
“Well, one, is that they are rich, and I mean like really rich. So are you…”
“I mean I make decent money for a normal person, but no, I’m not from money and you probably made more from your last tour than I’ll make in the next several years.”
“Okay then,” she said with a very big smirk on her face before taking a sip of her drink.
“So?”
“So? So what?” She asked knowingly.
“What’s the second reason?”
“Well, let's just say…” She then put her hand on my thigh, “that they tend to have certain specific talents that women find irresistible,” she said in a hushed tone.
“Ummm...wellll…I mean, I don’t know, I… well I know Yunjin is always more than satisfied with the job I do.”
“I bet.” Somi was now rubbing my thigh. “Any chance I can take a peek at what she’s been enjoying?”
“Gezz” the word slipped out of my mouth before my brain could react. I lifted up my hand with my ring on it. “Look I’m flattered but I’m married remember? As extremely tempting an offer as that might be, I really can’t.”
“Come on. Come back to my cabana, I’ll even give you a peek at what’s under my bathing suit first if you promise to show me what’s under yours. She doesn’t ever have to know” Somi whispered into my ear in a sultry voice. I hadn’t noticed until just now how close she had moved her chair to mine.
“Are you serious?”
“Come on, I know you want me. I know you think I’m hot. Maybe even a little hotter than your wife.”
“Whoa, I didn’t say that. You’re putting words in my mouth.”
“You can put something in my mouth if you want.”
“I...umm...look, another time, another life, I would have happily mounted you right on this bar and spend hours going to town on you, but as I said I am happily married.”
“Okay,” Somi said as she got up from her chair. “If you change your mind or just want to get out of the sun, I’ll be in cabana number 5.”
“I have a cabana of my own, but thanks.” Somi gave my thigh a squeeze before walking back to her cabana, and I couldn’t help but watch her ass as she walked away. And I am pretty sure she knew it too. When she was gone from view I sighed and finished off my second mojito. I then texted Yunjin to see when she was going to be finished. I was hoping soon, so I could meet her back up in our room and plow the hell out of her.
Unfortunately, she said she had decided to also get her hair done and wouldn’t be back to our room for another hour or so. I sat at the bar to collect my thoughts while trying cool off a bit, and then I paid my bill. The bartender, who had obviously been listening to me and Somi, gave me a look like I was crazy as I paid and left.
I took a quick dip into the ocean before heading back to my cabana. I thought for a quick second about heading to find Somi’s cabana but I knew I shouldn’t. As I approached my cabana, I seemed a little odd that the privacy flaps were closed. I just assumed that someone from the hotel staff closed them because it was unattended and I had left some stuff in there.
“Oh hey,” I heard a female voice casually say as I passed through the curtains.
“Ho-ly shit.”
“I guess I accidentally mixed up which cabana was mine,” Somi said as she laid on the patio couch in front of me. Resting against her elbow with her torso facing me. With the two pieces of her bikini crumbled into a ball on the coffee table, she was giving me an amazing view of her naked body. The hottest part about it was Somi had her legs split at almost a perfect 90-degree angle with one resting on the on the couch and the other pointing straight up in the air. I was speechless. I have no clue for how long or how many times my eyes scanned up and down her naked body. From her long perfect legs to her pussy with just a slight landing strip, to her tight toned stomach, to her perky b-cups with thick hard nipples just begging to be sucked and nibbled on, and finally up to her pretty face and mesmerizing eyes.
“Well, I guess you have seen me now,” she said as she slowly lowered her leg and used her free arm to rub and emphasize parts of her body, “It would only be fair you give me a peak now.”
“Okay,” I unconsciously agreed. I knew it was wrong, I was married, I was on my honeymoon, but she had me under her spell. I had been able to avoid earlier temptation since me and Yunjin had become official, including several attempts, last time being just a month before the wedding. This time, I just couldn’t say no. I moved the coffee table out of the way as I approached her, and then stood right in front of her face.
“Just so we’re clear,” I said as I undid the drawstring to my board shorts, “we’re not going to have sex.” I was hoping to keep some control over the situation and set up some boundaries.
“That’s fine,” she agreed. I then dropped my shorts and my hard cock sprang forward right in front of her face.
“Hmm, not bad. I’ve had bigger, but you still have a very nice cock.” She reached over and took hold of my shaft.
“Thanks,” I said as she slowly stroked me.
“By the way,” she looked up at me with her brown eyes and said, “oral doesn’t count.” Her eyes dropped back to my dick and she leaned forward. She gave my cock head a very sensual kiss, then stuck out her tongue and flicked it a few times against my tip. Any thought of leaving left my mind as soon as she closed her lips around my dick and began sliding more and more of me into her mouth.
“Oh fuck” I groaned as I rested one hand on the back of her head and she sucked me with earnest. My eyes were focused on her and her face until I noticed movement out of the corner of my eye. Looking down the couch I saw her legs squirming as she used her off-hand to play with herself. God watching her play with herself, I wanted to do more.
“Fuck it, stand up,” I said as I took a step back, my cock slipping from her mouth.
“What? Why?”
“Just stand up and get off the couch.” She had a confused and upset look on her face as she got off the couch. Once she was off, I got on the couch and laid flat on my back. “If we’re going to do this, and oral doesn’t count, then we're going to do it right,” I told her and Somi’s face quickly went from frustrated to smiling. She quickly got on the couch, straddling my face before bending down over my cock. As she opened her mouth and lowered it around my dick, she also lowered her crotch onto my face. Soon we were in a full-blown 69 on the couch. The two of us loudly moaned without mouths full while we serviced each other.
My mouth moved around between lapping up her pussy to teasing her clit, all the while my hands had a firm grasp on her tight ass. As we continued, Somi continued to squirm around on top of me as she deep-throated me. While she humped my face, I occasionally had to move my hands around, and at one point I found one of my fingers resting on the outside of her anus. I did not realize it as I was too focused on my task of getting the gorgeous woman to cum, but Somi obvious felt it. She quickly sat up.
“Yes, do it!” She yelled. I tried to ask what she was talking about, but my voice was muffled by her continuing to sit on my face. She still seems to understand me though. “Your finger, stick in my ass,” she pleaded. It was then I realized where my index finger rested. Instead of giving her exactly what she wanted I took my finger away and shoved it and my middle finger into her pussy. I fingered her hard for 30 seconds, getting my fingers nice and wet, then pulled them from her pussy and drove my index finger into her ass.
“Uggghhhh yyessss!” She moaned as I began fingering her ass. She enjoyed my tongue on her clip and her finger in her ass before she went back down to sucking my cock. I could feel Somi moaning more and more around my cock until I felt her ass tighten around my finger and pussy gush on my face. Even after she came, she continued to suck my cock as I continued to tongue her pussy. We kept going until I could finally feel my impending orgasm approaching. I wanted to warn her but with my mouth still buried in her cunt, speaking was difficult. Instead, I used a free hand to give her ass two hard slaps. Somi moaned in response, but she also lifted her ass up a bit, anticipating another slap. With my mouth now free I told her what was coming. Somi quickly got off me and the couch and went to her knees on the ground.
“Quick stand up,” she told me, “I want you to watch. I want you to watch as you cover me in your cum.” I got up and stood in front her. She used both hands to jerk me off, staring up at me the entire time with a big dirty smile.'
“Oh fuck, uugggghhhh” I said as I came. Somi closed her eyes and stuck out her tongue as jets of cum continued to shoot out my dick. You would have thought it’d been days not hours since the last time I got off. When it was over Somi had streaks of my cum running down her face and breasts.
“Holy… wow,” I said when it was all over.
“Wow is right. You can eat pussy like that and your dick is still hard? No wonder Yunjin married you.” Looking down, Somi was still holding my shaft with one hand and I was still almost totally hard. “You sure about that no sex thing? I promise you, I’m worth it.”
I quickly declined, got dressed and left the cabana as soon as I could. I had no doubt that Somi was ‘worth it’ and given any time she would have gotten me to comply. As I headed back to our room, I texted Yunjin and said she would meet me up there in 10 minutes. Thanked god that I would beat her back to the room. As soon I was in, I tossed off my clothes and got into the shower to try and rub off any scent of Somi that might be on me. I made real sure to wash my face and to wash my fingers as well.
“Oh, is that for me?” Looking at the bathroom doorway I saw Yunjin standing there in her sundress. She had come back sooner than I thought, or maybe I was just taking a longer shower than I realized. The thing she was referring to, was, of course, the boner I was still sporting. Even as I showered to tried to get the smell of Somi off me, my mind could not help but think about what would have happened if I stayed and everything I would have done to her.
“Of course it is,” I lied. “Why don’t you take off that dress and come in here so I can give it to you?”
“I’d love to, but I just got my hair done and I want it to last this way at least until after dinner. When you’re done in there meet me out on the balcony.”
“Okay,” I agreed. Once she left, I gave myself one more quick scrub down with some of her scented soap. When I finished, I dried off, wrapped myself in a towel and headed out to the balcony. Yunjin was sitting in one of the chairs looking out at the ocean. She was sipping on a drink she made for herself and she had also used the mini bar to make me a rum and coke. I came up behind her and then bent down to give her a kiss. She kissed me back, and as we kissed, she playfully gave my towel a yank causing to fall off. We were high enough up that I didn’t have to worry about anyone looking up and seeing me nude. As we broke our kiss Yunjin ’s eyes looked down to my crotch and then back up to my eyes.
“Take a seat and just remember to not mess up my hair,” she told me. I sat down on the other chair as she got up. She took the pillow from the chair and tossed it to the ground at my feet. Knowing where this was going, I spread my legs as Yunjin dropped to her knees on top of the pillow.
“I love you,” she told me before proceeding to give me a blowjob on the hotel balcony. I told her I love her back as she slid her mouth all the way down my tool. As I sat there getting my shaft blown by Yunjin while I looked out at the ocean at a fancy tropical resort, I thought that I must have been crazy earlier to put any of this jeopardy. This was all I ever wanted for a long time and to put it at risk, even for someone like Somi, was madness. I then just sat back and enjoyed as my wife gave my balls a tongue bath and then went back to deep-throating me. Once I was set to blow Yunjin was once again all too happy to take my load in her mouth. Unlike this morning, she collected it all in her mouth and one I was done cumming she opened her mouth and swished her tongue around, showing me my load before swallowing.
Once that was over, she gave my cock another once over with her tongue, then returned to her seat. We drank and talked and watched the sunset over the water. She told me about what she was up to when at the salon, and I told her about hanging out at the beach. While I wasn’t sure it was the right move at the time, I told Yunjin that I had met Somi at the bar at the beach and that I talked to her for a bit. In my head, I thought if we ever ran into Somi it would be a lot easier to just act as we had met and nothing happened than for Yunjin to find out I had met Somi and for some reason never told her about it. Yunjin said she wished she was there when I meet Somi and that she was going to keep an eye out for her at the resort. Just like that, the topic of Somi was over. Yunjin got out her phone and snapped a few pictures of the sunset and then insisted we take some selfies in front of it. I quickly put a shirt and shorts on then came back out and let Yunjin pose me however she wanted for a bunch of pictures.
After the sun had set, we got ready for dinner. We were set to have dinner at the upscale restaurant at the resort. I put on a light-weight suit with a white shirt and no tie, leaving the top two buttons undone. Yunjin dressed in a light flowy blue dress that shows off her legs and cleavage, and a pair of scrappy knee-high peep-toe boots. When we got to the restaurant it was still nice out so we told the hostess to give us a seat outside. Yunjin asked her to also take a picture of us together before we took out seats. She was nice enough to take a few of us, Yunjin hugging tightly up against me in each one. Eventually, we sat down and began looking over the menu. We were seated for a few minutes when all of a sudden Yunjin called.
“Oh, Somi!” Yunjin was looking past me and waving at someone. “Babe look, it’s Somi,” Yunjin said. I turned around, and walking towards us next to the hostess was Somi. She had a big smile and was waving back at Yunjin . Somi was wearing a short white dress with black heels.
“Oh my god, hi,” Somi said as she came over to our table. Yunjin got up and the two women hugged. “Congratulations on getting married!”
“Thank you, I was hoping I would run into you after my husband said he met you today.”
“Oh, he told you about that?” Somi looked at me with her eyebrow raised.
“Yup. Just about how we met at the bar and talked a bit,” I said making sure Somi knew the story I told.
“So, who are you here with?” Yunjin asked.
“Oh, no one. I’m just here alone on vacation. Wanted to get away while I had time between projects.”
“That’s nice, but you shouldn't have to eat alone. Why don’t you join us?”
“Really? You don’t mind?” Yunjin insisted. I in the meanwhile did not like how this was going. More to the point, I didn’t know if Somi was just here just by coincidence or if it was to tease me. The hostess moved the three of us over to a larger table. Yunjin sat across the table from me and Somi sat between us. We ordered drinks first, with a bottle of wine to come when our food arrived.
“So how was the wedding?” Somi asked.
“Oh my god, it was amazing!” Yunjin pulled out her phone and began showing off some of the pictures and telling her about the details. The two were totally engrossed in details and went back and forth for a while.
“Wow sounds like it was perfect,” Somi said.
“Well, it had a few bumps,” I finally said.
“What bumps? My sister?” Yunjin asked knowing what I was talking about. “It wasn’t that bad, and it was a little funny.”
“I still say she did it on purpose. She may deny it, and you may not believe it, but I’m telling you that she hates being in your shadow.”
“Wait, what are you two talking about,” Somi spoke up.
“Yejin gave the singer of the band at our wedding a blowjob in the bathroom, and about halfway through his mic came on,” I explained. “Suddenly through the speakers, we could hear his heaving breathing her slurping on his dick. It took five minutes before anyone knew what the sound was or where it was coming from.” Somi burst out laughing, and I also couldn’t help but laugh a bit.
“Well at least the singer enjoyed himself at the wedding” Somi laughed
“Not as much as a couple of my husband’s groomsmen did,” Yunjin said.
“I still don’t get why you invited Ning to the wedding,” I said.
“Because I didn’t think she’d actually accept, and I wanted to rub my wedding in that bitch’s face” Yunjin replayed.
“Ning?” Somi questioned.
“Ning Yizhuo.”
“Oh, this must be good. I gotta hear this.”
“She fucked three of his groomsmen,” Yunjin said bluntly.
“Bullshit!” Somi yelled.
“Yep,” I told her. I took out my phone, opened a group chat, and handed it over to Somi. “Just scroll down and you’ll see the photos.”
“Oh wow,” Somi said as she scrolled.
“Yup two different guys during the wedding, and then all 3 in a hotel room afterward.”
“I still don’t get why she thought I’d care about her having sex with them. But she definitely made their night.”
“Wait, I thought you said she took 3 guys back to the hotel room, I only see two,” Somi said as she scrolled through the pictures.
“Third guy is taking the picture,” I told her.
“Right, that makes sense,” Somi asked if I had any photos of the wedding and I told her yes and where to find them. In general, it was all a very normal time. The only thing that was out of the ordinary was Yunjin was drinking a little more than usual. By the time our dinner and the wine arrived both women were on their third sex on the beaches.
“So how did you guys meet,” Somi asked. I knew Yunjin enjoyed telling the story, but it was also an edited version of the story that she liked to tell.
“Well, we went to the same gym and would see each other around, but never talked to one another. Then one night when I was leaving my car wouldn’t start, and he happens to be leaving as well and helped me out. He drove me home that night, drove me back the next day, and helped me find a good mechanic.” She left out the part where I asked her to flash me her tits as repayment for the ride and we ended up having sex in my car.
“Then for the next few months, we hung out a bit.” We were somewhere between friends with benefits and booty calls who’d occasionally grab dinner or see a movie together. “Then one morning something happened, we started fighting and both finally admitted we had real feelings for one another.” What happened was I ran into her sister at a club one night, we got drunk and ended up hooking. Yunjin found us both passed out naked on a lounge chair by her pool, my morning wood still inside her sister. “And ever since then, we’ve been together and totally in love.”
“Aww, that’s so sweet.”
“Yeah, it is,” Yunjin said looking my way and rubbing her foot along my leg under the table. Dinner continued and by the time we finished eating Yunjin was drunk. She continued to rub against my leg periodically. Twice she fully pressed her foot up against my crotch. After our plates were taken away Somi ordered chocolate lava cake and a bottle of champagne,
“Oh one more thing,” she told the waitress “charge the whole dinner to my room.” The waitress nodded and walked back to the kitchen.
“Somi, you didn’t have to do that,” I said.
“It’s nothing, consider it a wedding gift.”
“That’s so sweet,” Yunjin said.
“I gotta tell you, Yunjin , I didn’t earlier, but I am starting to get why you married him.”
“What’s not to like? He’s handsome, he’s supportive, he’s funny, and the sex is great.”
“Yunjin!” I objected, but she and Somi just laughed.
“What, I’m not telling her anything I haven’t already told my friends,” Yunjin explained.
“So you’ve been enjoying your honeymoon,” Somi asked Yunjin.
“Oh yeah,” Yunjin gulped the rest of her wine. “Some guy’s brag about being able to go all night and whatever, but he really can. Ever since he got past the ‘oh wow I’m banging a celebrity’ phase, you know what I’m talking about?” Somi nodded in response. “Well, ever since then it’s been so good. Not that it wasn’t good before, but after, WOW.” Yunjin started to giggle.
“Well, that’s nice to know.” Somi placed her hand on my thigh. “You two really do seem to be in love though.”
“We are.” Yunjin reached across the table and took hold of my hand. “I’m so comfortable and trusting of him. I gotta tell you if he were some of the other exes, I’d be totally threatened by you. You are exactly his type,” Yunjin told Somi.
“I don’t have a type” I disagreed.
“Are you kidding? The first time I met your mom, she said I was so your type, but then she showed me pictures of some of his exes. All of them have those slender athletic bodies, boobs between a ‘B’ and a ‘C’, and don’t forget their big ass.”
“It does sound like you have a type.” Somi looked at me. Under the table, however, she had moved her hand up my thigh. I was about to say something, but Somi pulled back as a server arrived with our dessert and champagne.
“Look, I should at least let you two have desert alone,” Somi said as she stood up from the table. Yunjin told her that she didn’t need to leave, but Somi said it’s fine.
Just she’s about to left, she said “I hope to see you again soon,” all the while looking right at me. Yunjin didn’t notice this, but I did. The two of us ate desert alone, and when we finished, we headed back up to our room. I told Yunjin to bring the bottle of champagne with us since we both only had a single glass and it was already paid for.
After dinner, Yunjin was very drunk and very horny. We made out passionately in the elevator. By the time we got to our floor, Yunjin had her arms wrapped around my neck and her legs wrapped around my waist. I carried her that way down the hallway to our room. I had to stop kissing Yunjin so I could see where I was going, so she started kissing biting my neck. She seemed very intent on giving me a series of hickies.
When we got to our room, I put her down and we quickly left a trail of clothing to the bedroom. Once we reached it, I was naked and Yunjin was left in nothing but her boots. She stood there still hold the champagne bottle. I took the bottle from her and I began pouring some of it down her chest. I did my best to drink it off her as I poured. Sucking it off her tits, chest, and stomach.
I then gently pushed her so she fell backward onto the bed, her legs still hanging off the edge. I filled her belly button with champagne, did a body shot off her, and then repeated the process a few times. When I was satisfied, I dropped down to my knees on the floor in front of the bed and poured the rest of the champagne all over my wife’s pristine pussy. Yunjin moaned loudly and wrapped her legs around my neck as I began lapping up her cunt. When I could taste not more champagne, I spread apart her lips and buried my tongue into her pussy.
I have loved eating her out, and I loved listening to the moans she makes when I do it. Since that day I had learned a lot tricks of her body and knew what she liked and when she liked it. I knew when was the right moment to move up to her clit and to suck on it, when to flick it with my tongue, when to rub her clit and when to finger her, and on a rare occasion when she wanted her nipples tweaked. That’s how five minutes after first sticking my tongue into her, I was now working towards her second orgasm.
I had my lips on her clit while I used two fingers to finger her. I had Yunjin holding her legs up to her torso, keeping her thighs wide apart. Between the booze and the bliss, Yunjin was lost in her own little world. I sucked on and flicked her clit while I finger blasted her. I could hear her moans quickening. I knew she was getting close. I moved my mouth away and placed my thumb up against her clit. I then used my arm as a jackhammer as I fingered her. I soon had her cumming, but I didn’t slow down. I kept on going. The room filled with the sound of wet skin slapping as my hand and her pussy was now covered in her juices. I knew I was getting close and a minute later my wife screamed and began squirting like a fire hydrant. Yunjin rarely ever squirted, but when she was drunk and really, really horny it was possible. When it was over I took my hand away and stood up over Yunjin.
“Fuck me, seriously?” I said as I looked upon Yunjin naked, well pleased, body. I had apparently done too good of a job because she had passed out on the bed. Knowing from experience she was not going to wake up until morning. I now stood at the end of the bed with a cock as hard as steel, and nowhere to put it. I mean I could just go ahead and have sex with her anyway. We’d both had sex with the other before while the other was asleep or passed out, and with little guilt at all. However, something about doing it to my wife on our honeymoon didn’t feel right. I decided to just call it a night and take care of myself, but first I had to tuck Yunjin into bed. I took off her boots and then picked her up and slipped her under her covers. When she was safely settled, I put two bottles of water and some Excedrin on her nightstand, I then went over to the couch, opened my laptop, and started to type in one of my favorite free video sites.
As the site loaded, I suddenly heard a text on my phone. I had no clue who could be texting me. It was 1 AM, When I opened the message it was pictures of two fingers holding open pussy lips of a pussy I recognize really well from my up close view this past afternoon. It also came with a note that read “in case you’re interested in a midnight snack” along with her room number. The name of the saved contact was ‘Beach Buddy’.
I quickly texted back “When did you save your number to my phone?” She quickly texted back three messages.
“Wow, that was a fast response. What happens to can go all night? Also, you should really pay more attention to your phone when you hand it to strangers.”
I knew I shouldn’t respond. Between the picture, I was sent and the memory of this afternoon, I had more than enough material to get me off before bed. I knew this in my head, but it wasn’t the head on my shoulders that was doing the thinking at the moment. I texted back, “She said I could last all night, she never said that she could.”
“Aww, poor baby. Why don’t you come up and we can talk about it? Or… if you don’t want to talk, I’m sure we can find something else to do.” I thought about texting her back, but I knew there was no point. The moment I answered her text I knew how this was going to end. I took my phone, slipped on some shoes, put on some gym shorts and a t-shirt. I made my way to the room number I had been given and knocked on the door. I waited for a minute and the door finally opened.
“You win. Let’s do this” I said as I pushed past her and entered the room.
“You could sound a little more excited,” Somi said as she closed and locked the door. She had her hair down and appeared to only be wearing a pink silk robe. “I mean…” I didn’t let her finish. I pulled her to me and slipped my tongue into her mouth. After momentarily being caught surprised by my action, Somi started kissing me back. I pinned her against the wall and we continued to make out, my hands roamed all over her body. Somi began lifting my shirt and we broke off our kissing.
“Am I excited enough for you now?” I asked as I took off my shirt and pressed up against her a little more, making sure she could feel my hard cock against her. Somi gave a dirty little giggle as she felt me against her.
“Oh, those are new,” Somi said as she could now see the marks Yunjin left along my neck.
“Yeah, Yunjin can be a little aggressive when she drinks, though I think she’ll be as surprised as you are in when she wakes up in the morning.”
“Really, she’s that out?”
“Oh yeah. It’s been a long time since I’ve seen her that drunk.”
“Good, then she’ll never know if I give you a few of my own.” She raised up and began biting and sucking on the side of my neck, meanwhile I slipped my hand under her robe and found her wet pussy. Somehow her pussy felt even smoother than it had just hours earlier on the beach.
“We should take this to the bedroom,” she seductively whispered into my ear when she was satisfied with the work she had done to my neck. I eagerly agreed and stepped back and let her lead the way. She took a couple of steps then stopped and looked back over her shoulder at me. I then watched as her rope slowly slipped off her shoulders before falling to the floor. I almost began to drool as the ass that first got me to notice her at the bar was now on full display for me. Somi laughed as she saw the pure lust in my eyes and then ran off to the bedroom. I kicked off my shoes and dropped my pants as I chased after her. When I got there, I saw her smiling brightly as she sprawled out on the bed. As I looked up her long shapely legs, I noticed something different between her legs.
“You shaved,” I said as I crawled onto the bed. Her landing strip from earlier today was now gone.
“I hoping tonight would be a special night. Care to see how it feels...with your tongue?” she asked.
“Normally I’d love to, but I’ve had enough foreplay today.” Remembering how she looked when I first saw her in that cabana, I knew exactly how I wanted her. I picked up one of her legs and lifted it straight up into her air as I moved in between her legs. Taking my cock, I rubbed it against her already wet and freshly shaved cunt. Once my dick was nice and wet, I pushed forward. Somi moaned and her eyes rolled back as she felt my cock head pierce her. I slid all the way inside and enjoyed the feeling of her tight warm pussy around my cock. Her pussy felt different but just as good as Yunjin. I soon slowly started to build up tempo.
“Ummmm….yyyeeeessss… give it to me. Harder,” Somi pleaded. I was not there for slow sensual love-making like what me and Yunjin had done the night prior. I was there to fuck and Somi wanted me there to get fucked. As a result, I soon had the bed shaking as I pounded her pussy with my cock. I still had one of Somi’s legs pressed up against my chest, pointed straight up as I banged her and looked down at her.
“Tell me you want me,” Somi begged.
“I want you.”
“Tell me what you want to do to me.”
“I want to fuck you so hard that at worst you will have problems walking tomorrow, and at best you end up shattering your pelvis.”
“Fuck!” she called out. Looking down at her, I found my eyes locked on her breast, glistening with sweat, and her hard nipples. They looked so tempting, I couldn’t resist anymore. Moving her leg down I sat with my legs out and pulled her on top of me. Somi wrapped her arms and legs around me and I lowered my head to her chest. Now in the lotus position, we continued to fuck as my mouth toyed with her nipple. Somi was loving it. She pressed my head firmly against her tits as she bounced on my lap, only ever loosening her grip on my head as I switched from the right one to the left and vice versa.
“I’m so close,” she moaned. “Lay back, let me take over.” I did what she asked and laid down on the bed. She put her hand on my chest, leaned forward and let the hips do the rest. Those years of performing on stage had really done her well as she moves her hips quickly. Her moans and breath quickened I knew she was getting close, I put my hands on her hips as she rode me until she finally came all over my cock. As she came, I pulled her hips all the way down. With my dick all the way buried in orgasming Somi, I let go myself and shot my load deep into her.
“Oh wow,” Somi moaned as she dropped to my chest. I took a minute to catch my breath and then rolled us over. I was still hard inside Somi and ready to go again. With Somi on her back, I moved to my knees again and put the gorgeous woman legs on my shoulders.
“Gawd, Yunjin wasn’t lying about you, was she,” Somi said as I began pounding her again.
“Nah-uh, we’ve just gotten started,” I told her as my cock pumped in and out of her. My previous load now leaking out of her as I fucked her. We fucked like this for a while longer. She came again as I rubbed her clit and she played with her nipples as we fucked. I knew I was getting close again, but I still had time.
“Roll over, I wanna do it from behind,” Somi happily obliged. She made some comment about how all guys want to with her, but I wasn’t really listening. I was watching as she rolled over and instead if getting on all fours, she moved to the top of the bed and grabbed the headboard and stuck out her ass. I quickly moved in behind her and slammed my dick back into her. I loved watching her ass jiggle as we fucked.
“Remember earlier,” Somi said through gritted teeth as she looked back at me, “My ass. Stick your finger in my ass.” I gave my finger a long suck, I could still taste Yunjin on it, making it nice and wet.
“Yes! Yes! Yes!” Somi yelled as I fucked and fingered her ass. “You can fuck my ass you know. I got lube in the nightstand. You can stick your big, hard, married cock in my ass. When was the last time Yunjin let you do that?” I gave Somi’s ass a hard slap for insulting Yunjin, and because an ass like hers is hard not to spank.
“The morning after our wedding actually. Right before we had brunch with her parents and friends. As for the lube, we won’t need that.” I kept pounding her. Somi’s ass quivered as she climaxed once again. As I felt my cum rising from my balls, I pulled out of the Fast Forward singer. With one hand pumping my cock, I used the other to spread her ass cheeks. With my dick pointed at the target, I came all over her puckered asshole.
When I finished cumming I did not waste much time. I used my cock to spread my cum all over her asshole before I started to push the head into her puckered hole. Somi let out a loud groan as my cock head slipped in and then moaned as she pushed back, letting more and more of my shaft into her. I began banging her in the ass, though at a slower pace than before. At first, just to loosen her up a bit, but after a little while, it was just because I was physically exhausted. My cock and head were willing, but my body just couldn’t keep up with the fucking I had given Somi before. Even still we went at it for a few minutes. I gave her tight ass a few more smacks. I could see my red handprint starting to show up on her.
Feeling me slowing down Somi once again decided to take command of the situation. Again having me lay flat on my back, she then got something from her nightstand before mounting me reverse cowgirl. I watched as she pointed my cock towards the ceiling and then lowered her ass down. Somi looked back at me as she started bouncing her ass on my cock. I then heard the sound of something vibrating and Somi began crying out louder than ever. She had pulled out her vibrator and was using it to toy with her clit as she fucked her as with my hard-on. Somi came two more times before I finally painted her colon with my third load of the night.
When it was over I stayed down on the bed and caught my breath. Somi got down and cuddled up next to me. We stayed like this in silence for about 10 minutes. I knew what I had just done was wrong, and Yunjin would be devastated if she ever found out, but damn I would have done it all over again. Yunjin was right, Somi was my very much my type and she was also a hell of a fuck.
Looking over at the clock it was now getting to be early morning and I knew I had to leave. I told Somi I needed to use her shower. I turned on the water and began to soap up when Somi, still naked, walked into the bathroom with my clothes and put them on the counter. Instead of then heading back to bed, she then opened the shower door and got in with me. She stood behind me and washed my back. I could feel her breast press into my back, as she began reaching around washing my cock. Soon enough she had me hard again and she blew me once again until I came all over her face. She then said goodbye and went to bed. I finished up in her shower, got dressed, and snuck back to my room. It was passed 6:30 am when I got back to my room. Thankfully Yunjin was still passed out and looked like she had hardly moved since I tucked her in. I then stripped off my clothes, got back into my honeymoon bed and wrapped myself around my wife, before drifting off into a deep well-needed sleep.
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xqueen-of-disasterx · 1 month ago
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𝐊𝐢𝐧𝐤𝐭𝐨𝐛𝐞𝐫 (𝐝𝐚𝐲 𝟕) - 𝐒𝐚𝐟𝐞 𝐇𝐨𝐮𝐬𝐞
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𝐏𝐚𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: Natasha Romanoff x fem!reader
𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: SMUT, alpha!Nat, omega!reader, breeding kink, omega vers, hormone controlled sex, soft sex?
𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐞𝐫𝐲: While on the run of a failed mission you failed to take your heat suppressions luckily Natasha is there to help
𝐀/𝐍: If you'd ask me to spoil what I'll write for half time I'd have to say it gets nerdy if you know 🙃
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Natasha pulled you swifty with her as your cover had blown up in your faces, you ran through the tight alleys, feeling like prey in the eyes of your hunters. “We need to get a car” Natasha called, running in the direction of the highway. She pulled the driver out of his car not caring about stealing from a random man, this was a life or death situation. The first time in a long time you could breathe through. “Are you okay?” She asked, as she maneuvered the car through the streets. 
“Yes I’m fine… just some scratches” You reassured her but she was still skeptical. “If you say so…” She mumbled under her breath, her grip on the steering wheel relaxing “We need to keep it calm for the next few days, I know a safe house around here” A few days? You couldn’t handle being without your heat suppressions  for so long. You’d go into heat, while trapped in a safe house with an unmated alpha. 
Being one of the few omegas in all of S.H.I.E.L.D, wasn’t easy but you learned to not show what you truly were. Always on your heat suppressions and acting like any other Beta would make your life so much easier. You couldn’t imagine working with a bunch of hormonal alphas who thought just because you weren’t mated yet, that they had the right to be creeps towards you. If you had the chance you tried to convince Hill that you’d be put on missions with betas or other omegas but it wasn’t always possible. 
Sure Natasha was one of the most respectful alpha’s you knew, even though she was an infamous bachelorette. Even her self control would have a breaking point. 
The safe house was a few hours away from any civilization, a few hours away from a drug store selling heat suppressions. But then again how would you explain the whole situation to Natasha, which would blow your cover. 
The safe house was only a small cabin covered in the white snow falling from above. Natasha opens the door for you to reveal the small inside of the cabin, the  only sounds being the quiet drops of water hitting the skin so that the pipes wouldn’t freeze. “Quite cozy” She joked, closing the door behind you. 
“That’s one way of putting it” You smiled “I’ll try to make some fire maye you can look for some cans of food” She nodded opening the draws of the small kitchen counters “But I’ll have to warn you everything I cook ends up burnt” You had to laugh, a woman being a perfectionist at everything she did couldn’t cook? “Damn I wouldn’t have expected that” You piled up some of the wood in the fireplace before lighting it. 
As soon as the warmth filled the room your body relaxed in an instant. Natasha heated up some soup in the cans and handed it to you, its sight was cozy as you both sat in front of the fireplace, and your hormones filled brain suddenly thought that being mates with Natasha wouldn’t be that bad, right?
You woke up bathed in sweat in the middle of the night as you felt your heat creeping up. You felt the strong urge to nest, but with what? You piled up as many pillows and blankets as you could find. Thanked god that on a rare occasion Natasha wasn’t dressed in her suit instead her clothes were neatly folded on a chair. You even found your holy grail there, her hoody and it smelled so good.
You mind was blank as you cuddled in your pile fighting the urge to hump on of the pillows, you whimpered feeling the slick run down your legs as Natasha could smell you in her sleep. She grew restless, her urges fighting through as she woke up with a confused look on her face. 
“Y/N” She asked into the dark, only earning a whimper from your throat. Her curiosity got the better of her as she stood up from her bed feeling her dick harden in her boxers as she smelled your heat. “Need you alpha” you whined, your radical thinking being turned off by your need for the other woman. 
“Damn, can I help you?” She whispered and you nodded eagerly, you needed nothing more in this world than her knot. “Yes” You mewled, spreading your legs for her. In her haze she didn’t think twice before kissing you. You pulled her into your pile of blankets as she wasted no time on foreplay. 
She hastily pulled her boxers down to reveal her hard cock to you, she knew you were ready for her judging by the slick running down your flush thighs. “Please” You cried pulling her closer, she aligned herself with your tight hole groaning as she filled you up. Sure she had slept with other omegas but never while they were in heat. The tightness of your cunt was an addicting feeling as she let you adjust to her grid. “You feel so good” She sighed “You’re addicting” She mumbled her hips picking up as she started to fuck you. 
“Natasha!” You cried, scratching over her back which only made her thrusts harder. “More!” You demanded and to your surprise she complied. “You want to be breed?! You want my pups!?” She mocked already knowing your answer. “Yes!” 
Her dick thrusts against your g- spot, making you see stars as you came around her dick before she did. “Fuck I’m close; I’m gonna knot you” Her hips stilled as she filed you up with her knot, making you whimper like a bitch in heat. Her teeth sunk into your neck and she was sure that she felt a mating mark. She collapsed on top of  you, after having knotted you for the first time. 
The next morning she woke up with an arching head arch. She was confused after all they hadn’t had any drinks yesterday nor was she used to having hangovers. Her eyes widened as she looked down on you and the memories flooded back, she had mated you… . 
@jolyssereed
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mariasont · 6 months ago
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Office Sleepover 3 - A.H
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a/n: yeehaw this took me way longer than i thought but here she be
i feel like im so ass at writing smut so just bear with me yall
masterlist
‧₊˚ ✩°。⋆♡ ⋆˙⟡♡ ⋆˙⟡♡⋆。°✩˚₊‧
part one here! part two here!
pairings: aaron hotchner x fem!reader
summary: in which reader gets put on a hit-list and has to stay in the office (kind of based off when penelope got put on a hit-list by the dirty dozen)
warnings: 18+ MDNI, hungover reader, unwanted attention from some rando, awk as fuck reader, fingering, dirty talk, doing the dirty in the office, definitely illegal, definitely probably caught on cameras
wc: 4.2k
Everything hurt--your stomach churned, your head throbbed, and your eyes burned. You squeezed them shut, feeling your body tense against the stiff fabric of the pull-out couch. Fists curled tightly, you gradually let your eyelids part, casting a slow, sweeping glance around the room, trying to piece together what the hell happened.
Pain hammered around the inside of your head. You desperately needed a hefty dose of Advil--ten at least. As though your mind had materialized them, you rolled over to discover a bottle and a glass of water on the nightstand. You assumed you had JJ to thank, though the certainty of that was as fuzzy as your thoughts. Each effort to reconstruct last night's events was a stab to your already excruciating migraine.
You had all your clothes on, that was a plus considering your notorious history with wine and stripping. Stripping. Your hand slapped over your mouth, a floodgate of recollections bursting through--calling Hotch in a wine-induced haze, flashing your tits, asking him to stay.
You were in full-blown panic mode, the sudden urge to throw up clawing at your throat. The bed was empty, save for yourself, but you vividly remember Hotch laying down with you. This only left two possibilities: he left after you fell asleep or it had been a figment of your imagination. You were desperately hoping it was the latter.
But clearly, the universe had its own plan, because there he was, leaning against the door frame, a steaming cup of coffee in one hand and a paper bag that, by the smell of it, contained greasy food.
With a throat like sandpaper and sweaty palms, you met your boss's gaze. "Hotch," you croaked, pausing to swallow. "Um, good morning--or is it? My sleep schedule's always off after drinking. It feels bright in here, right? It's also kinda hot, is the AC working?"
You impulsively rose from the bed, a decision you instantly regretted as the room seemed to spin around you in protest.
"Sit down," he commanded, a firmness in his voice that brooked no opposition, and you promptly sat your ass back down, watching him with an expectant look.
You attempted to read his face, but it was a blank slate, making you that much more nervous. He must hate you, you figured, because you certainly hated yourself. Your boss had seen your nipples. A wave of heat washed over you, and you clenched your eyes shut, as if that could make this situation disappear.
"Here," he said, handing you the coffee and the bag, then gesturing to the Advil on the counter. "Take that, and I know you might not feel like eating, but it's necessary. The food and coffee will stabilize your blood sugar levels."
"Right, yeah, course," you nod, accepting the items with shaky hands, holding the cup with a grip that's a little too firm. "Listen, sir, I'm really sorry about last night. I promise I don't usually drink that much. I don't even know how I got that drunk, and I know I acted completely inappropriate towards you. If you need to file a complaint, I understand. Again, I'm just so sorry..."
You wanted to cry, but you held it back, knowing it would only make this whole situation worse. You deliberately avoided his eyes, focusing on anything but him while you absentmindedly toyed with the breakfast sandwich in your hands.
After a moment, he releases a soft sigh, the mattress sinking slightly as he settled beside you, his knee gently knocking yours.
"I'm aware this week's been tough on you. It's, uh, clear you weren't thinking straight, and I'm not about to make a formal issue out of a slip-up."
Your head dipped, as you tried to fend off the rising warmth in your face. "I don't think I can ever look you in the eyes again."
"That feels dramatic," he pointed out, a chuckle in his voice that made you glance his way. "Trust me, it's already forgotten."
That was a lie. He may have lacked Reid's eidetic abilities, but there was no possible, imaginative way that he would forget the image of you topless--it was imprinted in his memory. In fact, it had become the sole focus of his thoughts ever since. He silently thanked the gods that it was a Saturday, and he didn't have any pressing work issues.
"Somehow, that's not very comforting," you replied, a suppressed giggle breaking through as you met his gaze. "So, did you, um, end up staying over?"
Your cheeks glowed with a soft pink, hands unconsciously smoothing over your thighs--a nervous habit of yours he had quickly taken notice of. It emerged involuntarily when you faced tough cases, or when your computer took too long to start up, or even when the elevator made an unexpected noise.
"I did," he admitted, "You shouldn't have been alone."
Your whole body felt like it was on fire, and you were weirdly frustrated that you couldn't recall being the same bed as him, being able to feel his body against yours. You bet he was warm, and soft, and large against you.
"Thank you."
His phone went off. "Hotchner."
Your eyes followed his movements, noting the firm nods, watching as he stood, his expression hardening, jaw tightening, and hand coming to rest on his chin as he faced away from you.
The phone call was brief, and he quickly turned his attention back to you. "We've got a case."
And it was quite the case--three male victims, all in their forties. Each crime scene was close to Quantico, about twenty minutes, sparing the team any extensive travel. Though, after last night, you don't think you would have minded if they had been halfway across the country.
You were really banking on Hotch's ability to keep things professional, knowing full well that if Morgan caught wind of this, you'd be better off dead.
The team was huddled around the briefing table, absorbing Garcia's detailed rundown of the killings--they were violent to say the least--with heads bashed in and over twenty stab wounds per victim. Whoever was doing this was angry.
Hotch eventually split everyone up into tasks—Spencer and Morgan to the crime scenes, JJ and Emily interviewing the families, and Rossi was tasked with convening with the local police force. So, you know who that left at the office? You, Hotch, and Penelope. What a great group.
You avoided both of them, a pattern that had become all too familiar you had realized. Hunched over your desk, you were engrossed in sending Spencer images of your latest research on the town. True to form, he responded--Can you just fax that over to the police station?--because god forbid, he has to read it from his phone.
So, there you were, barely resisting the urge to slam your head into the fax machine. You wouldn't consider yourself technology impaired, but to say you were on friendly terms would be overstating it.
"Need help?"
"Oh, yes, please—," you began, but your voice trailed off as you noticed one of the guys from forensics hovering just a tad too close for comfort.
"They're always a bit stubborn," he noted, barely giving you space to breathe before his shoulder nudged against yours as he fiddled with the device, "just a slight...there we go."
The machine sprang into action, prompting you to step back and acknowledge his help with a nod. "Oh, thanks."
"Not a problem," he assured, stepping closer in the process, his fingers lightly brushing your thigh as he pointed out the correct button. "You see, it's all about timing," he added, his voice low and unnecessarily close, "these things can be so fussy, right?"
A subtle nod was your only response, hoping he'd take the hint that you weren't in the mood for small talk. The hangover clung stubbornly, and the whiff of his breath was a cruel taunt against the fragile peace you were maintaining over your stomach.
"So, do you find this kind of tech stuff challenging?" he asked, a little too casually. The question hung awkwardly in the air. You sought to put some distance between you, yet he matched your every move, keeping the space closed. "I mean, I'm pretty good with my hands, not just with machines honestly."
Ew.
You mustered a smile, though you were sure it was more of a grimace. The room felt smaller, the walls inching closer. "I usually manage," you responded, the strain evident in your voice.
He leaned closer, if that was possible, it was like the concept of personal space was foreign to him. "Maybe I can show you a few tricks, help you manage a little better?"
His words were light, but his proximity was anything but, almost suffocating.
Just as you were firmly about to tell him to shove it, a sharp voice beat you to it--probably for the best.
"That won't be necessary."
The forensics guy, whose name you still hadn't gotten, straightened, his smile faltering under the weight of Hotch's piercing, don't fuck with me, stare. A look usually saved for unsubs and incompetent officers, but now it singled out this man.
The same look remained on the poor guy as he directed his words to you, "why don't you join me? We need to go over some case details."
It really wasn't a question.
The man backed up instantly, mumbling something under his breath about just trying to help, but Hotch's glare followed him until he was well out of earshot.
Surprisingly, a similar sharpness was aimed at you as soon as he opened his mouth. "I'd appreciate it if you chose to flirt on your own time, not the Bureau's."
His words landed with the sting of an unexpected slap. You blinked, taken aback. "What? I wasn't--,"
But he didn't allow you time to finish. Instead, he pushed a water bottle in your hands, his eyes scrutinizing your face with such an intensity that you wished the floor would swallow you whole. "Drink. You look pale."
"Gee, thanks," you grumbled, under your breath, more to yourself than him, as he wheeled around and headed briskly for the briefing room.
Your steps lagged slightly behind him, your forehead lined with a thoughtful frown. What was that about? The way he acted--the tightness that had formed around his mouth and the harshness in his words, it was so unlike him, well, at least for it to be directed at you.
The rest of the day unfolded just as you thought it would upon waking--like shit. Hotch kept his distance, his exchanges with you brief and to the point. Every time you tried to grab his attention, hoping to clarify things (why you felt the need you weren't sure), he was already looking else, focused on literally anything but you.
It was painfully evident that he was avoiding any personal conversation with you, a realization that bit deeper than anticipated.
The office slowly emptied, the case binding you and Hotch to the briefing room, the only sounds being the faint gentle tapping of your pen and the occasional snap of your hair tie.
It was late when you finally spoke. "Hotch, this says the victim had fibers under his nails that don't match anything from the suspect's home."
Hotch's gaze snapped up to yours. "Are you saying you think the forensics team missed that?"
You met his eyes squarely, cocking your head to the side at the tone of his voice. "I'm not saying anything. I'm just pointing something out."
He bridged the space between you, his jaw set in a firm line. You could feel the warmth spreading across your cheeks as the distance dwindled.
"I'm just saying I don't want you jumping to conclusions based on underdeveloped theories."
You met his eyes with a glare, your teeth grinding together in the process. "Underdeveloped? Is that how you see my contributions now?"
The space between you had now vanished, your heart racing, finger almost poking into his chest as you spoke.
Hotch settled back against the wall, arms folded across his chest, giving you a pointed look. "I didn't say that," he replied, his voice level, markedly different from your agitated one. "We just can't afford to investigate every insignificant detail."
"Every insignificant detail?" you scoffed, "these are leads, Hotch."
His shoulders lift in an indifferent shrug that made you want to wrap your hands around his throat, and not in the good way. "Maybe. However, we need to be sure before we pursue it."
Drawing in a controlled breath, you fought to stay calm, but he was making it very hard. The sensation was all too reminiscent of college, contending with the overconfident frat boys just to voice your thoughts. That comparison may have been a tad extreme--Hotch was far from being like those insufferable boys, but he was certainly pushing your limits right now.
"I am sure. Why aren't you listening."
"I am listening," he said, but his voice was distant. "I just... I just don't want to get sidetracked, that's all."
"Sidetracked? By what, exactly?"
"I'm just not sure you're all here right now."
You felt your cheeks warming with a tinge of shame, but you pushed back, fists clenched at your sides. "I'm here, Hotch. I'm focused."
"Because last night—,"
"Last night was a mistake, okay? I got it. I already apologized for that. But I'm not irresponsible, my focus is on this case."
A lengthy pause followed, his expression unreadable. "You're certain about that?"
"Yes, I'm certain," you snapped, moving towards him again. "And for the record, JJ said you were okay with us having a few drinks."
"I was," he admitted. "But I didn't think—,"
You didn't let him finish. "What, that I'd get wasted? That I'd do something stupid? I'm sorry I'm not perfect."
"Well, yeah."
"Screw you, Hotch."
You knew that was a mistake the minute his nostrils flared, his chest now a pressing force against yours.
Then, without warning, his lips crashed into yours. A muffled oomph of surprise left you, your hands hanging motionless at first, only to quickly melt, grasping at his jacket, pulling him into you.
It wasn't a gentle kiss, nor was it kind, but it was magic, exceeding anything you could have imagined, setting every fiber of you on fire. His lips pressed against yours with an intensity that drew out a breathy sigh, arousal tingling through you, and your passion rose to meet his, equally hungry, equally desperate.
Your fantasies had never done him justice--kissing him was intoxicating, and now you could feel yourself getting lost in the sensation, realizing it was everything you never dared to hope for.
Drawing back just enough, his hands drew you closer, pressing against the dip of your back, his breath fusing with yours in a dizzying blend, making the air seem scarce.
Against the soft pressure of his lips, you murmured, "I wasn't flirting."
There's a pause as his eyes locked on yours, searching, questioning. Then, his hand settled at the side of your neck. "You better not have been."
Any witty comeback you had dissipated as his lips crashed against yours again, more urgently this time, his hands tracing every contour of your clothed body with an insatiable curiosity.
His grip tightened around your waist, effortlessly lifting you onto the briefing table's cold surface with a resounding thud, his palms then cradling your thighs. Documents and files fluttered beneath you, hopefully they weren't too important. His eyes, dark pools of brown, were meticulously scanning your face.
"You," he breathes out, his voice a low rumble laced with something you couldn't quite place, "have consumed my thoughts since the moment I discovered you on my couch." He inches closer, his breath scorching your cheek as his fingers waltzed a pattern up your thighs. "Do you understand that feeling? The intense frustration?"
You were rendered motionless, frozen in place, scared to even twitch and risk this all being a very realistic wet dream. This was Hotch, your boss, the man defined by his lack of outward emotion. To think that you--of all people--could have an effect on him was an overwhelming concept. The room seemed to tilt on its axis as he gently guided your legs apart, positioning himself between them.
"Y-Yeah, I know," you uttered unevenly, your thoughts scattering as your hands tentatively reached for his collar.
"So, you know what it's like, huh?"
Your nod was subtle, a flustered smile briefly lighting up your expressions.
"And?" he prompts, while his fingers explore the shape of your thighs, squeezing gently.
You squirm under his gaze, the intensity of it making your heart race inside your chest.
"And... it's annoying," you confess, puffing out a breath, trying sound annoyed, but the delicate blush dusting your nose gave you away, you were sure.
"Annoying?" Hotch repeats, his hand tenderly angling your face upward, his smile laced with a taunt. "Is that all?"
You rolled your eyes, a reluctant smile tugging at the corners of your mouth. "It's distracting," your voice was softer now, desire pooling in your belly as you grasp just how compromising of a position you were in.
"Distracting," he tsked, echoing you once again as he nodded solemnly, pulling your hips into his. Your mouth parted in an 'o' of surprise, your gaze lifting to meet his. "Have I been the subject of your thoughts, then?"
Your head dipped in a nod, your fingers brushing against his firm chest, a soft blush coloring your cheeks. "Maybe a little, in a totally platonic boss-employee type of way."
"Oh yeah?"
You caught your lip between your teeth, considering your next words very carefully. "Well, maybe more than a little, and maybe more than just a boss."
"Oh, wow," his breath was a warm hover over your lips, hanging in the space between you. You ached for the tase of him again, rich with dark expresso and spiced cinnamon. It was a lovely combination. "Sounds serious."
You released a hushed giggle, a light note floating between you as your foreheads met. "It's not like I can help it."
"And why is that?"
"Because," you paused, wetting your lips in anticipation, "you're infuriatingly unforgettable, that's why."
"I'll take that as a compliment."
"You would."
He was kissing you again. This time a little softer, unhurried, and the whole reason for your argument faded into nothingness. Although if insubordination led to this sweet consequence, it might just become a habit.
His lips traced a path down your throat, prompting your head to tilt back, baring the expanse of your skin to his exploration. Your legs wrapped around his waist, drawing him impossibly close. The world seemed distant, the sensation dreamlike, buoyed by the soft lull of a lust-induced haze.
Reason gave way to impulse; your hands lost in the softness of his hair, your back arching to his hands grasping at your ass, your clothed pussy grinding against his erection.
His hands hesitated, hovering as he reached for your top, his eyes holding yours. "Is this okay?"
You nodded, more eagerly than necessary, but that still wasn't good enough for him.
"I need a verbal yes or no."
Desperation clung to you, a needy sigh escaping you as you squirmed into his touch, his hands halting your restless movements. "Yes, please, Hotch."
"You were so eager to call me Aaron last night. Say it again."
"Aaron, please, I need you to touch me," your voice rang out, imbued with such sweetness making his length constrict against the fabric of his slacks.
His fingers deftly navigated to the hem of your shirt, sliding it over your head with a fluid motion. Your bra was next, its clasp yielding effortlessly to his touch, your tits releasing with a gentle bounce, and he fought back a groan as his large hands enveloped them.
"Every bit as perfect as I remembered," he said, his fingers skillfully pulling and twisting at the nubs as you brought you forehead to meet his, a breathy gasp tumbling from your lips at the contact.
You arched your back into his heads as he let out a soft chuckle, loving the way your body reacting to him. Your eyes held a glazed-over look, lips parted ever so slightly, and you looked up at him expectantly in way that could surely kill him. 
His hands moved slowly down your sides before brushing the sensitive skin under your waist band. You swallowed a gasp, moving your hips into his again, rolling yourself against his stiff erection.
His palms pressed against your hips. "Slow down. Let me take my time with you, yeah?"
You were at his discretion; he could ask you to jump into oncoming traffic right now and you'd probably say yes.
A nod was all you could manage as you fought the urge to move, every muscle tensed, waiting for him to make the first move, but god was it hard. You couldn't really believe this was happening, until the solid press of his thumb against your clit brought the moment into sharp focus. 
"Aaron, god," you gasped, your hands tangled in the hair at the nape of his neck. Your teeth found your bottom lip harshly, trying not to show him just how easily you could come apart right now.
"Is that good, honey?"
Honey. You could practically feel the arousal dripping your thighs as you nodded eagerly.
The pad of his thumb glided between your folds, gathering the slickness to continue his assault against your swollen clit. You buried your face deeper into his suit jacket, attempting to stifle the embarrassing sounds that you couldn't seem to contain. 
A whine of protest filled the space between you as his hand slipped away from your pants. His eyes bore into you as he gathered the strands at the back of your neck, guiding your gaze to yours. 
"None of that. Let me hear you gorgeous."
"Aaron, please, I need your fingers inside me, please."
You were painfully aware of how ridiculous you sounded, knew that if anyone else was in the office right now, you'd be so screwed, fired probably, but as his fingers dipped into your cunt those concerns dissolved quickly.
"Since you asked so nicely."
He was torturing you--his pace aggravatingly slow, working in and out of you as you tried to fight the overwhelming desire to slam your legs shut. It was so much, yet not enough. You ground yourself against his hands as his other hand clamped around your back, keeping you from falling back.
"That's it, baby, fuck yourself on my fingers."
His eyes were dark, pupils dilated, his chest rising and falling in a way that only seemed to spur you on, doing exactly as he ordered. His words felt foreign in your ears, before today you could never imagine him talking like this, so vulgarly. 
"Aaron, I-I need—," you paused, your eyes falling to his pants, more specifically the hardened cock inside them.
"Yeah? Is that what you want?"
"Yes, fuck, please," you gasped as his fingers hit that one spot just right. Your head lolled back as you clutched at his collar, his arm behind you keeping you in place.
"Watch your mouth," he said, and for some reason that was enough to send you right over that never ending ledge, your stomach coiling, heat spreading under your skin, every part of you ached.
"Oh—, Aaron, I-I'm—," you were a blubbering mess, rocking without mercy against his fingers, his thumb brushing against your nub in a way that made you feel like you had met your maker.
"That's it, baby, go ahead."
That was enough for you, your walls clenching around his fingers, back arching into him and you swore for a minute you could see stars. He helped you ride out your high.
You were wholeheartedly convinced; this was heaven. You had died and gone to heaven and the first one to greet you was Hotch, his hands tracing soothing patterns on your bare skin in an attempt to bring you back down to Earth. 
Just as you were about to reach for his pants, determined to feel him inside of you, his phone went off. Of fucking course. He shot you an apologetic look, the sound a wake-up call, pulling you both from the lust-fueled moment. 
He moved back with a couple steps, offering nods and muted words to whoever was calling at 12 am. You were suddenly extremely aware of your appearance--topless and on the briefing table for crying out loud. 
You attempted to stand, your legs betraying you with a wobble that had him instantly clasping your arm firmly, his attention flickering from the phone to the tremors in your stance. You gave him a small in return as if to say I'm fine.
You reached across the table, grabbing your shirt from its discarded state, not bothering with the bra as you dressed quickly. He cleared his throat, causing you to turn, just in time to see his phone disappear into his pocket.
"That was the Stafford police chief, there was another murder," he explained.
"Oh, right, okay, um..." you started, your brain racing into overdrive as you instinctively moved towards the door. "I just need to..."
Your movement was too quick, a dizzying spin that resulted in you tumbling into Hotch's solid frame. His reflexes were immediate, hands clasping onto you once again, preventing you from landing straight into him.
"Whoa, hey, are you okay?" he asked, brows knitting in a frown, "take a second."
"Yeah, um, yeah, I'm good," you managed to get out, even as heat suffused your face. "Just need to get changed, uh, can't imagine either of us want to the team to find me like this."
"Right."
He was still frowning, and you wanted nothing more than to kiss away the harsh lines of his forehead, but you were sure he wouldn't appreciate the gesture. 
You made a beeline for your office, the door's thud barely registering over pulsating rush in your ears. God, you were so screwed.
taglist: @chronicallybubbly @aremuslupinsimp @sky2nd @thisisdaisytrying @ryswritingrecord
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sixosix · 1 year ago
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SLEIGHT OF HAND | LYNEY
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summary you will not let lyney get to you. unfortunately, lyney already got to you the moment you met eyes. after all, what is a magician if not an expert in stealing hearts?
or, local sumeru architect goes to fontaine looking for inspiration and comes out of it with three rainbow roses and a crushing magician.
warnings 13+, gn!reader, follows the fontaine archon quest, so there are major spoilers throughout the entire fic! MURDER (lyney trial spoilers) + feminine french pet names ough + bff!Aether loml + sweet talker lyney + KISS SCENE (suggestive)
notes 8K words. thank u to my french bff art @aanobrain who said lyney is a magician he would say mon lapin 🤧❤️ + other various french pet names. thank u to ellie hyomagiri & earthtooz too for hyping this up, my supporters…
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“500,000!?”
Sumeru streets are always bustling with its people—from children skipping around the neighborhood to frantic scholars who zip back and forth before returning to their homes when the moon is high. However, the sun is beating down on everyone right now: street vendors are making a profit, dogs are barking as they play fetch with laughing children, and you stand across the blond traveler and his floating companion.
You wince at the volume of Paimon’s shrill voice, inciting bypassers to send miffed glances your way. Embarrassed, you cover the side of your face with a hand, whispering, “Is—is that not enough? I can—”
“No, no, it’s not that!” Paimon’s arms flail around, eyes blown comically wide. “It’s just, you know, more than what we earn from our daily commissions combined!”
“Oh, I see.” you nod, relieved. “Well, I can lower—”
“No, no, no, no,” Paimon interjects hurriedly, and even the traveler shakes his head. “Pleasure to do business with you! Paimon and Aether, at your service!”
“Really?” you can’t believe your luck—the traveler himself agreed to escort you to Fontaine! Or does it count if Paimon agrees on his behalf? “That's a relief. Even Katheryne of the guild had a strange expression when I posted my commission.”
“It’s probably because of the amount of zeroes you might’ve accidentally put,” Paimon murmurs.
Aether tugs on her foot as if warning her. “We'll be leaving soon. Are you prepared?”
“Oh, yes. My stuff’s over there by the bench, you see?”
Aether and Paimon’s faces simultaneously fall. “All of that?” Paimon starts counting it, gaping when she has four little fingers held up.
They sure complain a lot. “You can still back out.”
Aether takes a deep breath, making his way over to your luggage. When he brushes past, you hear him chanting 500,000; 500,000; 500,000 under his breath. He wordlessly carries all of them, his chest puffed and expression grave.
“They’re heavier than I thought,” Aether wheezes out as Paimon flits worriedly around him. “How long are you going to be staying in Fontaine?”
“Oh, just a day or two, maybe,” you say, taking pity and taking one bag from him. “Most of what’s inside are art supplies.”
“Ah,” Aether says.
“500,000,” Paimon reminds him.
“We’re close,” Paimon says, flying back to where you and Aether are still walking behind, him heaving and you offering water now and then. “I saw a huge ravine-looking view! It was like a city on a waterfall!”
“R-Really?” Aether puffs out a breath, sweat rolling off his temple.
You tried prying some of your bags away from him when it seemed like there were monsters up ahead, but he refused instead to fight them with one hand on his sword. He still won. You guessed that he was trying to make traveling easier for you, yet all you felt was immense worry.
“Are you feeling okay, Y/N?” Paimon asks, floating beside you. “You look unwell.” You should ask your companion that, instead.
“I’m a bit nervous. After all, it’s my first time traveling outside of Sumeru.” You smile, patting her head. She doesn’t seem to mind, beaming back. “But I need to get out of my comfort zone to be better, right?”
“That's right! Paimon has a feeling you’ll enjoy Fontaine!” You and Paimon glance at Aether when he heaves a heavy breath, yet he only waves the pair of you off with his free hand. “Before you know it, you’ll be itching to travel again once you’re back in Sumeru.”
“I'm only there for work. I just need to learn a lot, and then I'll enjoy it.”
“Still a student through and through, huh…”
“I can see it,” Aether chimes in, looking all too relieved to rest his arm finally. “I can see Fontaine up ahead.”
You feel the cool breeze brush against your face, a refreshing change from the past hours you and the other two have been trudging through the desert. You could strip off layers and dive if you could. You can make out the harbor even miles away, pouring water out like an endless waterfall stretching for miles.
Arriving in Fontaine is introducing yourself to the rustle of layered skirts, the water-kissed smell, and citizens left and right babbling about tragic endings and thrilling climaxes.
Aether sets your bags on the floor with a heavy exhale. Paimon feeds him with another jug of water.
“I guess we’re here now.” You pull out a heavy pouch you’ve been keeping in one of the bags Aether had been holding over his shoulder. Paimon takes it with greedy, greedy hands. “Thank you for keeping me safe and carrying my luggage, Traveler— are you even listening to me?”
“There’s a girl over there,” Aether says, now staring ahead.
You and Paimon turn to look; sure enough, someone is standing by the edge, looking forlornly over the water. Half of her foot is off the platform, making Paimon fidget.
She gasps. “She isn’t going to jump into the water, is she? Maybe we should go check on her…”
Halfway through Paimon’s sentence, you gathered the courage to speak to the girl with the cat ears.
“Hey, miss.” Her ear twitches. “Is something the matter?”
She turns, looking faintly surprised. If you weren’t so close to her, you wouldn’t have been able to tell there was a change in her expression. “I'm fine. thank you.”
“Oh.” Now things are a little awkward. “Is there something in the water you’re looking at? You might slip if you keep tipping forward.”
She peers below, unworried—silent.
“As long as you’re okay, I guess,” you sigh, awkwardly hovering above her shoulder when realizing it might come off strange if you touch her. “I’ll leave you be.”
Her lips twitch, something close to a smile. You don’t stick long enough to admire it, heading back to Aether and Paimon and shrugging at their inquisitive looks. “She says she’s fine.”
“I think it’s time for me to separate,” you say. “I want to take all of it in as much as possible. Paimon has my payment. Thank you both so much for keeping me safe.” Mostly Aether, though. But Paimon was there, emotionally.
“It’s no problem,” Aether says, his smile warmer than when you first met him. “Stay safe out there. You can look for us if you need anything else.”
“I don’t always pay 500,000 for each of my commissions.”
Paimon wilts. Aether flushes, stammering, “Not what I meant.” You laugh heartily as they wave when you walk off to the aquabus, hopefully, prepared for what Fontaine will give you.
Your sketchbook is a page away from completion when you hear about a magic show at the Opera House. Not that it was hard to miss—everyone and their grandmothers were prattling about nothing else but the entire day.
Fontaine is known for its love for dramatics, but the twins they keep mentioning must be a one-of-a-kind spectacle to have half their region’s population speak about them so reverently.
After wandering for hours, taking in the endless sights of fresh water streaming and grand castle-like modern buildings, you find yourself in the Fountain of Lucine. You’ve heard of Fontaine being somewhat titled the ‘City of Love,’ but seeing couples surrounding each nook and cranny of the tourist spots was still astonishing.
(You console yourself by thinking that there’s something romantic in sketching frantically while the rest of the crowd are sucking faces.)
To your luck, you spot three familiar heads in the fountain plaza.
Aether senses you before you can even say anything, glancing to the side and smiling when you wave at him.
Paimon flutters excitedly. “Y/N! We didn’t think we’d see you again this early. You look like you’re glowing.”
“Was it that obvious?” you laugh sheepishly. “Fontaine is beautiful; I couldn’t even stick too long in one place before I see something else that catches my attention.” You look to the girl you met earlier, who nods politely. “Hello. Are you three acquainted now?”
“Mhm!” Paimon says, hands on her hips. “This is Lynette! She’s inviting us to the show they’re holding here!” She gasps, “Speaking of—”
“Ah,” Lynette says quietly, “I couldn’t get an extra ticket. I’m sorry.”
Lynette is the magician you keep hearing about? With her seemingly reserved personality, you wouldn’t have guessed it. “Oh, no, it’s fine. I wouldn’t want to impose.”
“Paimon,” Aether speaks up. “They gave you your ticket, right? Why don’t you just float next to me or sit on my lap?”
Paimon’s eyes sparkle. “Great idea! That way, I can give my seat to Y/N, right?”
“You guys…” Your chest feels warm as Aether hands you one of the two tickets in his hand. “You really didn’t have to.” Is this what 500,00 gets you? The loyal companionship of Aether and Paimon?
“It’s a good idea,” Lynette says. “My brother wouldn’t want you to miss the show. He’d be devastated.”
“If you insist, then I suppose I can’t refuse.” Aether and Paimon do a cute little cheer. “But I need to return to the hotel; I can’t be watching a magic show carrying all these.” Surely Aether can understand.
Later, with your hands finally empty and charcoal-free, you rush back to the Opera Epiclese, the person standing guard kind enough to open the doors despite being a minute late.
“Welcome, one and all, to the Opera Epiclese!” The audience roars with cheers as the spotlight illuminates a figure on the center of the stage. You hurry to your seats, brushing past Aether and Paimon. “I am the star of today’s show, Lyney.”
Lyney bows, then stands upright with a Cheshire cat grin.
The thunder of the crowd’s applause is deafening. If you weren’t able to see it, you’d think that you hadn’t been clapping at all—senses numbed and your fixed stare all on the boy on the stage.
Your eyes catch on the small braid on the side of his head before the gleam of his eyes hypnotizes you.
He’s handsome, you think dizzily at the back of your head.
“Don’t blink,” he says, his voice lower as if meant to be a whisper, “or else you might miss it.”
The show proceeds. A dove soars away from inside as he flips his hat; you flush at hearing the soft laughter that slips from him after. The cards that materialize out of nowhere descend to the floor. His fingers shuffle the cards while talking to keep the audience satiated; they fly off his hands, yet he doesn’t lose focus, stretching them mid-air with a sleight of hand. They fall apart and come together neatly and precisely.
His stage presence is demanding. It would be as if Lady Furina herself would accuse you of committing a crime if you were to look away for even a second.
Then, when he scans the crowd, busy twirling his cards in his fingers, his gaze catches your awed ones.
Something in the air shifts. Or maybe it’s that it slows.
A card slips from his grasp. A mistake. He blinks and breaks eye contact, laughing heartily to play it off. But you don’t believe it—not when you swore your limbs locked in place as well when lilac drilled into your soul.
You breathe, hands bracing against your chest. What was that?
You would’ve played it off as something you imagined if not for Lyney continuing to glance at you occasionally. His slip-up had been forgotten, as though it was all part of the show.
(Is it also part of the show when it seems he’s unable to tear his eyes off of you?)
Of course, the twins prove their worth. They showed you exactly why the people of Fontaine adore watching them through theatrical magic, cards in their sleeves, and defying logic.
You’ve shuffled to the edge of your seat as Lynette disperses into bubbles and comes back alive. You’ve held your breath as Lyney emerges from the box across he was in a moment earlier.
You’ve also been witness to the murder of Cowell.
CRASH.
The shatter of glass resounded along with the horrified gasps of the audience. Sickeningly enough, you could almost hear the crack of bones if you hadn’t been crying out in alarm. Yet, as they gape and shriek over the sight of a limp arm popping out, you find your gaze tracing back to Lyney, who stands motionless in front of the box.
When Lady Furina points fingers and has everyone siding against him, the guards escort the audience from the Opera House. All evidence presented left Lyney in a spotlight unlike his performance: with a disgusted and unamused crowd. Even you have to agree that it isn’t looking well for his case at all.
Yet all you can think of as you leave the room is that Lyney looked as terrified as everyone else was—much too raw of an expression for someone to accuse him of anything at all. He looked young and scared.
(His hands were shaking.)
The rest of your Fontaine trip is admittedly duller when you’re a little more familiar with its city and don’t have a yapping little fairy and a capable Traveler by your side. It’s hard not to hear chatter about the events that went down: Lyney’s trial, Aether volunteering to be his lawyer, and the truth behind the real murderer.
It solved a case beyond the murder of Cowell. Fontaine sure has its mysteries, and the crowd sure loves them as they would a magic show.
You keep your hands busy. Last night, you found yourself thinking back to the magic show, to deft fingers weaving through cards, to violet eyes that kept on flickering to you. By the time you snap back to reality, you’ve subconsciously drawn shapes and lines that suspiciously look like the magician himself: the curve of a smile, piercing eyes, and you entranced by it all.
Flustered, you crumple his face staring back at you out of sight. Yet you can’t bring yourself to throw it away.
You shove the last bit of garlic baguette in your mouth to furiously bat these unwanted thoughts away.
“Isn’t that Y/N?” Paimon’s voice is unmistakable, a short distance off.
You jump out of your skin, spinning to see Aether and Paimon waving and walking over to you. You thought they'd already left Fontaine after that; you wouldn’t blame them if they did.
“Y/N! We haven’t seen you since the Opera House performance,” Paimon exclaims, twirling around your head like a thrilled fly circling a trash can.
You hold onto her back, hoping she’ll stop making you dizzy. “We were escorted out before I could say goodbye. I couldn’t watch the court trial but heard it all turned out fine.”
“That’s right!” Paimon nods proudly. “Paimon helped a ton during it; you should’ve seen it! What have you been doing?”
“I found a fellow architect while visiting the cafe nearby, and we chatted for hours,” you say, remembering that your voice is hoarse for that reason. You also don’t tell them you couldn’t get a certain magician off your mind. “I learned a lot. I don’t regret coming here one bit.”
Paimon says something else that you’re sure you’ve nodded absentmindedly at while your gaze wanders over to the two familiar people a few feet behind, watching you three with cat-like eyes—and it’s not just because of Lynette’s unique features.
“Those are the magicians, right?” you gesture behind Paimon and Aether as if you haven’t already familiarized yourself with their faces.
Paimon nods. “Uh-huh. You should introduce yourself! They look like they want to talk.”
Something about that feels foreboding. “Um, no, it’s fine. I don’t want to be rude and interrupt your conversation.”
“No,” Aether says firmly. He seldom speaks; you might as well play along if he says so. “Besides, Paimon is right. Lyney wants to talk to you, you know?”
“Oh, yeah! He kept mentioning seeing someone sitting beside us! And it couldn’t have been Neuvillette because he said it was an unfamiliar beauty that bewitched this weak magician’s heart.” Paimon nods, even recalling how he’s enunciated each syllable theatrically.
“I’m sorry?” you blurt. “Lyney recognizes me? What did I do?”
“Paimon thinks it’s because Lyney is curious about who Lynette met! He was like that with us, too.” Paimon changes her pitch to match Lyney’s. “Are these your friends, Lynette?”
Aether’s eyes feel like they know something you don’t. “It won’t hurt to strike up a conversation with Lyney. He’s been shaken up since the trial.”
There’s something unspoken hidden in his words. “What does that mean?”
Paimon doesn’t wait for an answer, grabbing you by the arm and dragging you to where the twins are waiting. Aether chuckles as he jogs behind.
“Paimon, Aether,” Lyney says, almost sly, “You haven’t introduced us to your friend here.”
“Paimon can do it!” She floats on top of your head and does a bit of jazz hands. “This is Y/N, the one who commissioned us to escort them from Sumeru up to Fontaine.”
“Generously,” Aether adds.
It’s a little embarrassing to have the legendary Traveler and Paimon introduce little old you to a famous magician such as himself, but his grin is still excited.
“From Sumeru?” Lyney repeats, smiling wider when you nod—as if that crumb of attention is enough for him. “I see.”
He performs a bow around the same height as where your hands rest; he takes one, kisses the back of your palm, and smiles against your skin. “I’m Lyney, and she is my sister, Lynette.”
“It’s nice to see you again.” You smile at Lynette, who nods in return. Lyney straightens to look at his sister.
“We met when the Traveler and Paimon just arrived at the harbor,” Lynette sighs even without looking at her brother.
“It’s a pleasure to meet you,” you say, meeting Lyney’s eyes. The spot where he kissed is still warm—tingling. “Your show was incredible, despite what happened. I’m glad that the truth revealed itself.”
“Thank you.” Lyney’s gaze sharpens. “I saw you at the performance, yes. I was worried for a second you might steal the show if you were to come up on stage.”
You blink. “Are you saying—”
Lyney grins, “I apologize that the night had to end that way; it must’ve been horrifying. Say, what if I give you a little show right now to make it up to you?” Did he make it up to each one of his audience, too?
This is not a man acting “shaken up,” as Aether put it.
“You really don’t have to.” You glance at Aether and Paimon, silently asking for help; however, they’re too far gone, urging you to say yes with gestures and encouraging nods.
Lyney tilts his head, demanding your attention on him once more.
You sigh. “I would love to see it if you don’t mind.”
“Of course!” Lyney looks like he’s the sun bursting personified. “It would be a pleasure, ma chérie. Not to worry, it’s nothing life-threatening. I just need you to focus on me.”
Not that it’s hard. The others have become a dull buzz in your mind as Lyney holds your gaze. “Okay.”
Lyney smiles, much softer, satisfied. “Good. Now,” he tips his hat, “recently, I’ve received a little lesson from someone about the language of flowers. Are you familiar with them?”
“Not in Fontaine, no,” you mumble, watching his hands closely. You were expecting a rabbit to hop out of that hat any second now.
“Shame. But I suppose I wouldn’t want to spoil the fun.” Lyney snaps his finger, then deposits his hand inside his hat. “Hmm… Oh? Something’s not quite right. Would you mind looking into this hat for me to see if the flower is here?”
You hesitate. The hat is so close to him.
Swallowing, you nod, leaning in to inspect his hat at a careful pace. All you can sense is the faint scent of heat Lyney is emanating, the breath you two share, and the pounding of your chest. You swear you could also hear his, matching yours.
“The hat’s empty.”
Lyney smiles wider. “Yes, perhaps because you already have it.”
You jump back in surprise, your hands patting your body to see where he could have snuck the flower in. With your frantic movement, the flower falls off from what seems to have come from your head—Lyney catches it.
His mouth carves into a smirk, leaning to invade your personal space, his free hand coming up to tuck hair behind your ear. “Careful.”
Your face is burning. Plucking the flower out, the delicate and tender pink sears into your palm. “What does this flower mean?”
“What does it, I wonder?” Lyney whispers thoughtfully. “I suppose you’ll have to tell me once you find out.”
And when he inclines backward, it feels like you can breathe again. Time flows normally, and the people passing by seem much louder than before—as though you’ve surfaced from underwater.
Lyney clears his throat. “Shame I haven’t prepared myself a grand show for you, but I suppose that would call for another time, wouldn’t it?”
Lynette is looking at Lyney as if he is stupidly amusing.
“Thank you,” you say, burning, burning. “For the show, I mean.”
“That was a little weird,” Paimon whispers to Aether, but she is terrible with keeping volume and has everyone turning to her with varying expressions. “P-Paimon means that was good! Wow, Lyney! Isn’t that a different flower you gave us? That’s the flower Charlotte was talking about, right?”
“Rainbow rose?” Aether supplies.
“Yes! It means—”
“Ahem.” Lyney is quick to interrupt. “Lynette and I must take our leave now, if you don’t mind. It was fun catching up with you two.” You have to hold your ground and not look away when he hones in on your figure. “And it’s a pleasure meeting you. Don’t be a stranger. Look for me if you want more.”
His smile is a little devilish, you now realize.
“Bye,” Lynette says blankly, following after her brother, who seemed to be hurrying to exit.
His ears were red.
“You’re still staring.”
“I am not,” you rebuke hotly, flailing to cover Aether’s mouth with your hands. Yet all it does is bring your attention back to where Paimon and Aether are staring—the rainbow rose on your person.
Paimon and Aether yelp when you drag them away despite Lyney having already left the scene.
“Hey—! Don’t just go dragging Paimon around like a balloon like that! Did Lyney get to your head that much?”
“He did not.”
Paimon tilts her head, frowning. You shy away from her worried gaze, glaring at the flower instead. You still don’t know how Lyney managed to get it there; you hold it to your chest, where your heart is racing miles per minute because of his stupidly smug smile.
“What does this flower mean, Paimon?”
Paimon seems elated to be of help. “Easy! Charlotte told us that Rainbow Roses mean ‘passion’ and most notably ‘romantic encounters’!”
“Passion,” you curse. The rose seems as if it is staring back innocently, unknowing of the turmoil you’re going through because of it. “Romantic encounters.’ ugh.”
You can still remember how Lyney’s eyes twinkled as you felt his breath against your face.
“Ooh, he thinks he can trick me. He thinks he can affect me just because it pleases him to do so. I’ll show him. I’ll show him! I am not a blushing maiden!”
“You’re already very affected by this,” Paimon says, yet it’s lost by your newfound determination. Two can play at this game.
You’ve definitely been staying in Fontaine longer than what you told Aether and Paimon, but you can’t leave yet. Not when you found yourself walking to a flower shop to purchase a vase, fiercely digging through soil, turning gentle when your fingers reach for the Rainbow Rose. Not when you see it in the corner of your eyes as you try to sleep, and you find yourself daydreaming about a charming violet-eyed virtuoso.
It’s for research, you excused lamely at the hotelkeeper who didn’t ask why you’re extending your stay. In truth, not that you’d tell anyone. It was because you were hoping for another grand show from him. A farewell show for you—closure.
If you were to travel back home and get too drunk to think straight, Kaveh would learn about your crisis (romantic awakening?) and laugh at your face.
In hopes of looking for your Fontaine architect friend, you spot Lyney instead, on the side of the street surrounded by cheering kids. They clap and jump, and Lyney laughs. “One more, one more!”
“Again?” Lyney does an exaggerated sigh. “I’m starting to run out of cards in my sleeves. I’ve guessed my entire deck from your hands by this point!”
“But, Mr. Magician,” one of them whines, pouting up at him and blinking, “we want to see more! We want to know how you do it!”
“Alright, how about this, hm?” And then Lyney peers right at you. Ironically, you’re the one startled when you’ve been watching that entire spiel, and he hasn’t acknowledged your presence beforehand. “Y/N, would you mind giving these children a little show with me?” He gestures for you to come closer.
“What show?” you ask suspiciously, taking slow steps in case he pulls out another flower out of nowhere.
“You don’t have to worry,” Lyney laughs. “Will you be my assistant for this show? You are very familiar with this trick.”
“Please, we want to see!”
You falter at the little kids’ excited grins, especially when paired with Lyney’s pout and round eyes. “Okay, tell me what to do.”
His eyes do the little gleam again. “Stand in front of me, mon lapin.”
Your heart is skipping beat after beat, making itself known as you shuffle until Lyney is directly behind you.
“Relax, chérie, you just need to stand still.” It’s a little hard to relax when you feel his breath against the back of your neck, but you won’t give him the satisfaction of admitting that, so you keep your chin high and relax your shoulders. “Good.” 
He begins to speak louder to his awaiting audience. “I know it’s hard to keep your eyes off this beauty before me, but watch the hat for a surprise, alright?”
He flips it for his little audience, one hand resting on your waist and the other extended to hold his top hat. The proximity is almost suffocating. You watch with bated breath, and they complain about it being empty.
“Oh, is it?” Lyney hums, twirling the hat until it’s flipped upside down, presented right before you. “Perhaps I need my assistant’s help.” You snap out of your daze when you realize he’s talking to you. “Y/N, do me a favor and show them the flower inside.”
You reach inside the hat and, much to your surprise, feel a stem. You pull it out; the Rainbow Rose stares back at you, almost mocking you, saying he did pull out a flower out of nowhere. It's this trick again.
The kids gasp in awe and confusion—it’s all the same for Lyney, who snaps his fingers and creates magic like he was made to. Like magic was for him to summon with his hands.
“What? It was empty!”
“Where did that come from? I was watching Mister Magician’s hands the whole time!”
“Are you a magician, too?”
“No,” you say lamely, holding the rose, feeling Lyney still patiently standing behind you. Heat crawls up your neck. “No, I’m not. It’s all Lyney.”
“It’s all me,” Lyney echoes in amusement. “You’re quite magical yourself.” Finally, he spares you, pulling away to stand beside your figure. He doesn’t take the rose back—maybe even give it to one of the children. He knows exactly what he’s doing. “That’s enough for today. The sun is setting, and your parents might get worried.”
They pout and slump their shoulders, but Lyney has this older brother's sternness to him that has the children scurrying back home anyway.
You then realize having to stand in front of Lyney was unnecessary.
The flower is warm. Lyney’s eyes slip to yours.
“I didn’t even have to stand in front of you like that,” you complain, heart inclined to race off your body.
“Yes, but I feared that I would slip up again if I were to catch a glimpse of your face,” Lyney admits smoothly. His lips curl into a smirk when you stare wordlessly. “What? Don’t believe me? I had to improvise when I saw you watching from afar.”
“A great magician such as yourself? Making a mistake? I doubt it.”
“You already have such high expectations placed on me, chérie,” Lyney says, his smile easy, but his ears are a little red, poking out from his hair. “That’s no good. With no audience, I’m just plain ‘Lyney’ to you.”
“No trickery? No cards up your sleeves?” you play along.
Lyney doesn’t miss a beat. “No, though I do have a few more roses begging to be held by your hands.”
“They can keep begging.” Lyney grins wider when you glance down at his hands. “Do you give them off to everyone you meet?”
“Who do you take me for?” Lyney isn’t offended; he laughs, delighted. He is preening under the sunset—or maybe it’s your attention. “Of course not. At least, not like this.”
You stare, unimpressed. “Sure.”
“So cold, chérie,” Lyney sighs, plucking the stem from your fingers to slot it behind your ear. It seems he likes doing that. “Here I am, trying to get you to warm up to me, and you treat me like this.”
“You don’t have to. I’ll be going back home soon anyway.”
Lyney’s expression shifts into something more unrecognizable, his eyes dipping down to somewhere below your nose. “Oh. Avoiding attachment?”
You nod.
He grins, and he’s still so close. He knows how to entrance his audience, pulling you in until you forget to resist. Always watch the hands; yet Lyney could be digging a dagger to your side at this moment, and you wouldn’t even notice.
“I’m flattered you even want to avoid me because you know you’d get attached,” he purrs, tilting his head. Is Lyney just big on personal space? 
“Don’t assume,” you retort. “I know how guys like you think. Even a magician as great as yourself can’t trick someone who’s already seen through it.”
“It would be easier if it were just a trick, wouldn’t it?” Lyney sighs, much to your confusion. “I take it that someone has told you what this flower means?”
You’ve nearly forgotten all about it. “Yes.” You find yourself unable to look directly into his eyes. “I know.”
But even with that, you can still feel his heavy gaze, pinning you down and threatening the strength of your knees. You suppose it comes with being a performer—watching his audience carefully, pinpointing each micro expression to say the right words.
“There doesn’t have to be any attachments.”
“What are you trying to say right now?”
Lyney’s reaches for your hip, sharing your gaze like he doesn’t know how to do anything else. “That you enamor me. That I am holding back from wanting you. I know you feel the same—you can never hide anything from a magician. But if you’re concerned,” he mumbles, “then this doesn’t have to mean anything. You may call it infatuation.”
You want to laugh. Or maybe you want to cry. Most of all, you want to nod helplessly, wrap your arms around his neck, and give in. It’s hard not to when he looks at you like that. “You want me that bad?”
“I almost want to disagree.”
“Almost?” Lyney gets closer, and you stop him with a palm on his chest. “We’re outside.”
Lyney grins. “Have you forgotten what Fontaine is also known for? No one would bat an eye. Love is in the air, and all that.”
“Absolutely not.”
“So still you’re letting me?”
You laugh this time. Letting him, as if you aren’t the one itching to pull him close and find out what he’s like behind the curtains. “Are you asking me as plain old ‘Lyney?’”
Lyney brightens, clearly pleased there wasn’t a ‘no’. “Yes.”
“No tricks?”
“No tricks. No strings.”
You let him lead you away into some dark alleyway. He kisses you like he was longing to do so all his life. You have only met him that fateful day, not even a week ago. But you claw at him like you get it—like he’s ruined you for anyone else the moment you shared gazes in the Opera House.
Romantic encounters, you quietly recall as Lyney swipes a thumb over your aching bottom lip.
You don’t see Lyney the day after that. And for some reason, it makes the itch worse. (Perhaps it’s because you’ve gotten a taste and can’t get enough.)
It’s mostly your fault, the sudden disappearance—you’ve cooped yourself up in the hotel room, buried your face in pillows, and screamed. You berate yourself for giving in, but another part of you—one that’s louder than any other thought in your head—wants to do it again. Wants to hold his handsome face in your hands and have him kiss you breathless. That was nothing like you had ever felt before.
You groan. It’s another new day. You might as well make some progress with your portfolio.
There’s a Café you’ve been visiting more often than not. Ordering a drink and spending a good chunk of your day sketching the view. Instead, you find yourself staring at Aether, Paimon, and Lynette seated at one of the tables.
Lynette’s eyes flick up to yours as she sips tea. She murmurs something to the other two, and you watch with amusement as Aether and Paimon’s heads snap to face you.
You let your gaze wander, eventually landing on Lyney, who is reciting his order with his charming-act-on smile, who is present because of course he is. You want to turn and run away, but that’d be letting Lyney win, and you’re nothing if not stubborn and prideful.
“Y/N!” Paimon greets once you’re within earshot, kicking her feet happily. “Good morning! What are you doing here?”
“Breakfast,” you reply, waving at them. Aether pulls a chair from the other table and gestures for you to sit. “Did I interrupt something?”
“Nope!” Paimon swipes a fork from the table and digs in on the Ile Flottante, leaving nothing for Aether. “Lynette and Lyney told us about another show they’re holding to make up for the previous one.”
“Mouth full,” Aether reminds her, a little too late as the Ile Flottante spews from her mouth.
“Really now? Maybe I can pay properly for a ticket this time,” you laugh, nodding at Lynette. She smiles faintly, hiding it behind the rim of her cup. Lynette sure is the polar opposite of her twin brother.
A shadow looms from behind, the silhouette of a figure with an unmistakable top hat. You tilt your chin and see Lyney peering down at you with a sweet smile. You will yourself to keep your gaze focused on his eyes only and nowhere else below the nose.
Speak of the devil…
“Sweetheart,” Lyney says instead of exchanging pleasantries like a normal person.
“Lyney,” you reply in kind. Then you look away upon realizing that Aether, Paimon, and Lynette had been silently watching the exchange with muted, stunned expressions.
Lyney, holding a tray of drinks and food in both hands, scoots the chair next to yours with his ankle. “I wasn’t informed that Y/N would be joining us,” he says, setting the drinks and plates down like a waiter with a flourish. “You can drink mine. Let me order another.”
You hold onto his wrist as he makes his way back. He turns to you, surprised. “Let me at least pay for my own breakfast.”
Lyney grins, delicately withdrawing from your grip. He places a loud kiss on your hand. “Don’t worry about it.” And then leaves, because he can’t take no for an answer.
“Is it just me,” Paimon starts as you resign yourself to finishing Lyney’s drink (It’s your favorite, the one you always order), “or is Lyney acting weird around Y/N?”
Aether laughs. “There's definitely something going on. Don’t end up staying too long in Fontaine, now. What was it you told us? ‘A day or two’.”
You huff, your face turning unbearably warm. “Shut up, you two. I am here to do research, not to find a summer fling.” You’ve already failed, but they don’t need to know about that.
If you were to touch your lips with your fingers, you’d think of no one else but Lyney’s hands on your hips and his mouth swallowing your words.
Lynette clears her throat, a quiet but noticeable thing. “Don’t be fooled by my brother, Y/N.”
“Oh, don’t worry. I’m still keeping my safe distance.”
She shakes her head. “That’s not what I mean. Don’t be fooled by my brother.” She stares at you from the rim of her cup—something about that has you listening obediently. “No matter what he tells you, he always cares too much. No matter what you may think, he always gets hurt first.”
“That’s not…” You can’t imagine that. From the start, it’s always felt like he was the one who could do what he wanted.
No tricks.
Lynette is his twin, after all. She knows him best.
No strings.
Defeated, you sip on the straw with the same fervor of an aggravated hilichurl, and that’s the end of that.
Conversations during breakfast are much lighter when Lyney returns with a full meal as his treat. Celebration, he says. Celebration for what? Who knows? Lyney winked, but his glance directed to you said enough.
“You say that you don’t want to get attached, but you’re awfully close to the Traveler, of all people,” Lyney says offhandedly once the others have left for their own matters.
You lean against your seat, grinning. “Are you jealous?”
He doesn’t say anything, instead upturning his nose as if scrambling to regain control. You laugh, oddly endeared. Lyney turns his head away, trying to hide the smile that curls his lips upon hearing it.
“Hey,” Lyney says seriously, reaching for your hand. “Where have you been yesterday?”
“Why? Missed me?”
And because he’s Lyney, he takes his time kissing each of your knuckles. It’s more intimate than the whole ‘no strings’ arrangement you agreed on, but you suppose Lyney thinks that any physical attention is free reign. “What would you do if I said yes?”
“You’ll be fine,” you say slyly. “You’ll have to get used to it if you want to risk your heart just to get laid.”
He rolls his eyes, tugging you closer. “I’m not risking anything to get laid. Do you think so lowly of yourself, chérie?”
“Isn’t this all there is to it? Physical attraction,” you ask, genuinely confused.
Lyney blinks. “Of course, but—” His eyes flicker down, and his words trail off.
When you speak, you feel your breath bounce back from his skin—a testament to your proximity. “Lyney,” you whisper. For what? Urging him to continue? Urging him to close this distance? You’re not sure, either.
You have so much to ask. What do you mean? Why can’t you finish your sentence? Why don’t you just kiss me already? But it’s hard to speak; Lyney’s name is all you can think of. 
You whisper his name again. His grip on your hands tightens and loosens, a frustrated frown creeping up his brows.
Your hand shoots out to reach for the back of his head and give in. He flinches for a second before relaxing completely.
His lips almost taste sweeter than his words. Almost as sweet as how he finds purchase on your waist and holds your chin during every kiss.
You pull away to breathe, missing how he leans closer to chase after you and pouting when he can’t. “Yeah. That—That didn’t have to mean anything. I just wanted to know what it felt like again.”
“Yeah.” Lyney licks his lips, his gaze unable to tear away from where yours are swollen. “Yeah, I know. You taste like my drink.”
Really, no one’s surprised you gravitate towards each other again, feeling like you’re soaring and melting into a puddle at the same time. Lyney doesn’t touch you where you both know would cross the line, but he grips near possessively to what he can, as if breathing you in and worshipping your skin.
You know after this, he’d go back on stage, fooling his audience with what’s invisible to the average eye, as if this never happened. You know this because this is your deal: satiate the feverish attraction you have with each other and leave once you’re satisfied. (But you also know that you’ll be thinking of his touch and his lips while you stare at the vase beside your bed.)
Lyney is a magician, first and foremost.
He hooks you in, and keeps all your attention to himself like he’d die without it. Then he disappears with a snap of a finger. He’s finished his trick, leaving you befuddled in your seat with more questions than answers.
As you drift off to sleep, all you can think of is that there are two roses now.
“Brother.”
Lyney looks up from where he’d been entertaining Rosseland, seeing Lynette with a stern face. “What? What happened?”
Her tail flicks. “You said you weren’t going to get attached.”
Lyney exhales softly, his eyes slipping shut. “I’m not.”
Lynette finds herself smiling softly. “I may just be your assistant, but you can’t lie to your own twin.”
He buries his face in his hands. With his sight gone, images of your face while whispering his name flash in his mind. His eyes fly open, mortified, his whole face red. “I don’t know how it happened. I didn’t think it’d be deeper than that.”
He was the magician in this, but it felt as if you were the one who tricked him instead.
It’s been two weeks since you first arrived in Fontaine. By this point, you’ve grown more familiar with its views than your own city. Having Aether, Paimon, Lynette, and even Freminet around doesn't make it any easier for you to feel at home.
And then there’s the Lyney Situation. You meet up most nights, more than that when he’s free from shows. He keeps seeking you out, and you keep letting him in. There was one night where Lyney spent the night instead of heading straight to the door—and those nights turned into two, then three, and then he finds any excuse to keep doing it.
It’s not like you could stop. He told you look for me if you want more, and you always want more, because how could you not? Lyney treats you like he’s never had to take care of anything more precious but still manages to render you breathless like you’ve never experienced thrill the way he gives it to you before.
But you still have to go back home. And Lyney still has his own life, has his secrets. He feels untouchable even when your arms are wrapped around his neck.
No strings attached can still work for summer flings, doesn’t it? And what are summer flings, if not just that?
Lyney hovers above with his hands caging your face. He’s grinning so wide—and you’ve seen all kinds of smiles on him with your time spent together, but it was never this genuine.
“You’re bad for me.” He says it like a confession, a prayer.
You raise an eyebrow. “What did I do to you?”
His hand trails down until he’s rubbing shapes on your hips. “Make me feel like I’m myself whenever I’m with you.”
At your silence, Lyney clears his throat. “But it’s not like that, don’t worry. I just mean—”
And how does that even make sense? He pours his heart, then later reveals it’s nothing but a decoy to keep this facade realistic.
“Oh,” you say.
That was the final act you’d been waiting for. The final trick—the farewell show.
And so you pack your bags—shoved your sketchbook back inside, face forward, and promise not to look back. Leaving Sumeru hasn’t even been this hard.
Aether and Paimon shouldn’t be surprised if they find you missing; they’d been the first to know that your stay in Fontaine isn’t meant to last forever. And you’ve warned Lyney about this. Avoiding attachments? It felt more like running away from your problem.
Lyney is a busy man on his own; you’re nothing but some architect from a different region who happened to get caught up with him at the right time.
You sigh and call for the aquabus.
A hand clasps around your wrist, pulling you to collide against a familiar chest. Lyney’s eyes are wide, almost insane. Sweat clings to his forehead, and his breath comes in frantic pants.
“W-What—”
Lyney’s eyes search your face. Or maybe it’s him trying to convince himself that you’re right there, in front of him. “You didn’t even tell me.”
“I—I’m sorry—”
“Were you just going to leave like that? Don’t you think I at least deserve a farewell?”
“Lyney, I’m sorry. I know, that was stupid.” You haven’t seen him with an expression like this before—so raw and broken, begging to be glued together with your hands. “I didn’t want to formally say goodbye because I knew I'd want to stay.”
“That’s stupid,” he repeats in agreement.
You breathe shakily, eyes scanning the stunned crowd. What’s The Great Magician Lyney doing here? Holding some stranger in his arms? That must be what they’re thinking.
“How did you even know I was leaving?”
Lyney’s eyes cut down to his hand, gripping a crushed rose. “I was paying a visit to an empty room.” Embarrassed, he tries to toss it away, but you take it before he can.
You wordlessly place it in its home: the spot behind your ears. You don’t tell him that the two other roses he gave you serve as bookmarks in the sketchbook you’ve used all up in Fontaine. Where you’ve drawn his face more often than not.
Lyney groans in frustration, his hands curling around your waist. “Is staying so bad?”
“It’s not like I’m leaving forever.”
And then you notice Lyney’s hands. They’re shaking uncontrollably, not unlike how it did during that incident—and with it came the frantic exhales, as if natural human breathing alone is already hard enough for him.
“Oh, Lyney,” you say softly. You drop your bags and embrace him fully.
He doesn’t hesitate in pulling you closer, burying his face on your neck. “Don’t—don’t,” he gasps, “don’t just try to leave like that.”
It’s hard seeing Lyney like this. He’s usually so composed and easy-going. He gulps in a deep breath, and his voice cracks as he calls for you. This must be something out of his control—something deeper than the back of his stage.
“Y/N,” he whispers.
“Lyney,” you call back as gently.
He swallows your surprised noise with his mouth, moving against you like you’re his last meal on Teyvat. He’s still shaking, but it has subsided the longer you stay pressed against each other. You’re not sure if it’s his Pyro vision or if it’s your skin burning at the thought of Lyney’s skin against yours. It’s searing.
This is different from the last kisses you shared.
Passion, you think dizzily, breathless from his hunger. This is passion.
“What was that for?” you ask, embarrassingly winded.
Lyney brushes his thumb over your bottom lip. He looks sad. As though he only comes alive when you’re with him. “A kiss to make up for your absence in the following weeks.”
“I can always come back,” you say. “No, I will come back. I promise. I just need to get home for a bit.”
“Okay.” Lyney nods, exhaling heavily. “Yeah. I know, I understand. Once you come back, come straight to me, alright?”
“Of course.” You lean in to kiss his cheek. You’ve never done it before because it always came off too intimate. And judging by the blush that explodes on his face, he thinks the same.
It all doesn’t matter. The line has been crossed days ago; you’ve just been turning away from seeing it.
He kisses you again. Then again. “Have a safe trip,” he says in between kisses. “I almost wish you commissioned me to escort you, regardless of the price.”
“What, you want 500,00?” The aquabus has arrived; Lyney grips you a little tighter, childishly willing himself not to see it.
“500,000 kisses, and more.” Lyney rests his forehead against yours, his captivating eyes keeping you still, the way it always does. “But you can give me that when you come back.”
( Before they were taken away from the stage for an investigation, Lynette comes up to her brother and asks, “What happened back there, Lyney? I thought you were about to twist your own fingers.”
He is unsure how to tell his sister that he saw your awed expression and nearly lost his wits.
“It was nothing,” Lyney admits, his face growing hot at recalling his slip-up. 
It wasn’t out of embarrassment, no—not when the memory of your wide-eyed beaming expression and how his mind blanked along with the skip of his heart plagued his mind.
“It was nothing,” he repeats numbly. It’s not. It was the start of something. )
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a/n ok just a quick rant this fic BROKE ME. it was like every other day i hated then loved writing this fic. im not used to writing fics this long so pacing is not my forte </3 but i just feel proud of myself for finishing this so HOPE U LIKED IT. if ure still reading until here ily ❤️
more a/n two lyney fics and two kissing scenes. i can’t even lie to myself. everyone can tell.
more more a/n it was halfway through writing this fic that i rewatched the magic show and only noticed lyneys hands were shaking and i GOT SO SAD OMF 😭😭😭😭
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4K notes · View notes
vxsellie · 26 days ago
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⋆ ˚。⋆౨ৎ˚ THE UNITY IN PAIN
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synopsis. soldier!ellie williams x field medic!reader. after being horribly wounded in battle, ellie is brought to you on a stretcher. she'd been blown up by a fucking landmine when her guard was down. however, for some reason, the agony in her mutilated leg instantly subsides as her gaze falls onto you. everything dulls in comparison to your vibrance.
notes. this is so random & probably won't even get that much attention bc of how sporadic the trope is, but! this thought came to me and i've been unable to rid my mind of it since i first imagined it also! yes, i changed the synopsis a bit from how it was originally posted when i asked about tagging. i just rewatched g.i. jane & was hungry for writing a war scene rather than just pure romance yk
warnings. descriptions of gore, war, corpses, death, and blood. unrealistic medical depictions.
wc. 3.6k
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the sound of gunfire and screams fill ellie's ears as she runs across the battlefield. her thick combat boots kick up sand with each step she takes, gun clutched firmly against her chest just as she'd been taught. her comrades run alongside her, only a few hundred feet away from the helicopter waiting to take them back to safety a few miles out. her mouth nearly waters at the idea of a hot meal and cold shower. the dirt that clings to her skin is—
boom!
ellie's body suddenly goes flying up into the air, thudding against the ground a few feet away. she groans, ears ringing as she struggles to get onto her knees. as she attempts to move, a jolt of pain shoots up her left leg and agony grips her with an iron fist.
she squeezes her jaw shut. screaming past clenched teeth as she continues to move around, albeit fruitlessly. her body is on fire, every single nerve set aflame as her entire being protests the very notion of so much as breathing.
"williams is down!" she can hear someone shout through her earpiece, relaying the news back to those in the helicopter. she'd usually feel embarrassed at the declaration. but at the moment, she can hardly think straight enough to feel anything. "she must've triggered a landmine! her leg is— just— send a medic! over!"
a few more voices shout in her earpiece as thudding boots can be heard jogging toward her. she screams, continuing her futile attempts at reforming dignity. but all she manages to do is writhe around in pain.
hands are suddenly grabbing at her, comrades holding her under the arms and by the thighs as they haul her onto a stretcher. every movement sends her body into another wave of torment, leg numb as every muscle and nerve screams at her. as the soldiers jog with the stretcher in tow, she continues to groan and writhe, mind muddled by whatever injury she endured and blood loss.
a sudden flash of white can be seen moving in the corner of her eye. she lulls her head in the direction of the color, seeing a field medic rushing over to the stretcher. you walk in stride with the soldiers carrying her, speaking frantically as you assess the situation and how best to approach it.
and, instantly, all the pain in ellie's body vanishes. her mind focuses solely on you and the cloud of gentility you've placed over her without so much as a glance in her direction. her lips part as she pants, eye lidded as she stares up at you with blown pupils. whoever you are, she wishes to see more of you from now on.
you continue to bark orders at the soldiers and demand answers to questions. the sheer power you hold over these militia men is daunting and she loves it.
the thudding footstep sound suddenly shifts, boots no longer against hardened sand and now on thick metal. she looks away from you to blink at her surroundings. the interior of the helicopter spins as she glances around, nothing solid except for your face. so she turns back to you.
this time, however, you're looking right back at her. you're a mere inch from her face as you squint at her, taking in every detail of her. the soldiers ease the stretcher onto the floor as you take over the situation and the copter whirs into power and lifts into the air.
"what's your name, soldier?" you ask, crouching to one knee as you reach into your back pocket, still watching her closely.
"my—" she blinks, taken aback.
"you don't know your name?" you ask her before shaking your head and muttering under your breath, "oh, that's a bad bad sign."
"what? no. nonono, i know my name." she rushes out, words slurred as delirium is beginning to effect every action she takes. "it's— i'm ellie williams."
you raise a brow at her switch-up but say nothing. instead, you nod and pull out a rolled cloth. you shift lower on her body, now crouched at her hips rather than her face. she watches you with bright eyes despite the dullness of the rest of her.
"well, ellie williams." you say, unraveling the cloth to reveal a line of tools and blades to have been hidden within. you grab one of the scalpels. at least ellie thinks it's a scalpel. she's not the smartest at medical shit. you clutch the blade and turn to her. "this mangled leg of yours isn't making it back to base."
"it—" she stammers, voice scratchy and rough in her raw throat. "what's that mean?"
you give her a pitying look, "amputation."
"what're—"
her words are cut off by you driving a second blade into her uninjured leg. she screams out in pain, mind instantly made distracted by the knife in her right leg to pay any mind to the way you're severing off her already wounded one. seeing as it's already numb and almost completely removed at the knee, it makes it easy for you to remove. the issue, though, is your lack of access to sedatives at the moment. and if the blood loss didn't kill ellie, the pain surely would. so, the knife you'd just driven into her right thigh was for her sanity.
she throws her head back, screams tearing from her throat and bouncing off the metallic walls of the helicopter. you grit your teeth and continue, knowing you've ought to make this as quick as humanly possible to ensure ellie will be alive by the time you make it to base.
once you get to her bone and swap tools for a stronger ones, her deafening screams only grow in volume. while the rest of the crew covers their ears and winces at the sound of their comrade in such anguish, you know her screams are a good thing. they're a tell tale sign that she's alive and still feeling pain regularly.
her hands are clutching the edge of her stretcher, knuckles white with pressure applied to her grip. you finish the removal and replace the sharp tools with a roll of gauze. "shh. i know, i know. but look, we're almost done, just have to wrap it now." you mutter under your breath as you work. talking while working keeps you in order and ellie seems to appreciate it as well, her voice dying in her throat as she nods in a daze.
she pins her eyes to your face, watching you once again as you work. you can feel her gaze boring into your face as you tie off her leg at the knee, securing blood flow and bandaging the exposed flesh. afterward, you yank the knife from ellie's right thigh, sending her body to jolt as she yelps. you're quick to tend to her, though, wrapping her thigh alongside her left (half) leg.
you finish the job and almost collapse from your adrenaline rush crashing so fast. ellie's chest rises and falls as she huffs out heavy breaths of air, her eyes blinking slowly as her jaw hangs open. her auburn hair clings to her sweaty skin, the perfect depiction of what war and fatigue can do to a person. only a few minutes ago, she was unwounded and the entire crew was on their way back to base unscathed. in mere seconds, that was obliterated alongside ellie's leg. one misstep and she's lost a limb for the rest of her life.
but this is exactly why you're here; this is your purpose here. helping people the way nobody was able to help your father.
you know what it's like to lose a loved one. to wait at the front door as a child only for big militia men to appear in his stead with a triangularly folded flag to offer their condolences and apologies. the piece of fabric felt a pathetic replacement for your father — the one who taught you to talk, walk, eat, everything. but you still cherished it, promising your little adolescent self that you'd make sure no other family would go through this. not if you could help it, at least.
and now, thanks to you, whoever ellie's family is will be seeing her return. albeit a little less of her, but it'll be her nonetheless.
"what's your name?" she slurs from her spot on the stretcher, pulling your attention away from your thoughts and back down to her mangled form. her hands lay palm up as they release from their death grip on the edge of the stretcher.
"i don't think you should be the one asking the questions here, miss williams." you tell her with a glint of playfulness in your eye. ellie huffs out a laugh but ends up coughing, having to turn her head to the side in case of vomit. you look away, instead using this time to place your tools back into their sheath, mentally scolding yourself to remember to wash them off later.
"ask away," ellie roughs out, her voice still chalky and in desperate need of water.
"age? birthplace? mother's maiden name? any siblings? pets?" you list of questions as you slip the blades back into the fabric. these questions are the one regularly used when checking to be sure a patient's memory hasn't been impaired and their brains are screwed on correctly. if ellie can answer every single one without fail, she's perfect.
"woah woah," she says, "slow down."
"okay fine." you give in, rolling your fabric and slipping it into your medic coat pocket. you turn to her, shuffling close to her face as to be respectful. "what'd you eat for breakfast this morning?"
"mm, that's too easy." she smirks, though you can tell the action hurts her. her lips are split, causing the slightest quirk of her mouth to cause pain. despite this, she continues, likely unaware that you'd even noticed. "scrambled eggs, they were stale. master chief said they're all we had though, so i was smart enough t' not complain."
"smart girl." you chuckle. the blush that creeps to ellie's cheeks doesn't go unnoticed. but you say nothing, offhandedly deeming it to be all due to her wound-induced delirium.
"what'd you have?" she asks. "do medics get special treatment or what?"
you scoff, "oh i wish. unfortunately, i had the same shit as you, williams. master chief's stale eggs."
she laughs at this and you find yourself adoring the sound. the rest of the crew is talking and laughing with each other, a low hum of conversation filling the air. louder than that, the noisily whirring helicopter begins to lower to the ground, deafening in its boisterousness. despite all of that, ellie's laughter is what rings loudest in your ears. you ignore the full-body reaction and instead busy yourself with something else.
you stand from the floor, nodding toward the men seated opposite the helicopter from you and ellie. they notice your movement and instantly stand and jog over to you. there's five of them.
"when this thing lands, i want you five to haul her out of here." you demand, chin raised and shoulders set. the men nod, accepting their newly appointed roles. you're not done, though. "afterward, you'll bring her into the medical tent and lay her down on whichever cot i point out to you."
the men listen, not daring to argue with you. as someone who's worked for the military for three years now, you've managed to amass a rather impressive reputation for a medic. the higher ranked officers know you by name from your father and therefore respect your deeply. but it's not only your lineage that's got you to where you are. on top of your father's residual impact on your life, you're also the best medic this army has ever seen. they need you. due to this, the officers have driven it into the soldiers' minds that you're to be respected and listened to for fear that you'll leave if not. that's not true, of course, but you allow them to think it.
and when the time comes, the men hold their end of the deal. as soon as the helicopter lands against the grassy land of your militia base, the haul ellie's stretcher into the air and escort her off the machine and into the medical tent. you follow after them, hurrying in front of them when you get to the tent as to be there in order to point out which cot she's to be placed upon.
the tent is lined with wounded soldiers. most of them aren't freshly injured, instead in here to heal and recover from previously inflicted damage. some of them are mental while others are physical, calling for a colorful array of people packed into the tent.
"there," you say, gesturing toward the first empty cot you see. "lay her down gently, y' hear me?"
"yes ma'am." the reply in unison, placing her down onto the white sheets as softly as possible. then, they stand at ready for dismissal. when you're sure they hadn't somehow managed to injure ellie, you dismiss them and they're quick to rush out the tent and rejoin their crew.
ellie lies atop the cot, her severed leg looking shockingly well, all things considered. her breathing has evened out and her hands no longer yearn to grip the nearest thing to her. progress, you'd say.
"when dinner is served, i'll be sure to bring you a tray." you tell her, pulling your cloth from your coat and unraveling it over a nearby cart of medical supply. ellie's eyes are on you again. in the way that sends sparks through your nerves and hammering through your heart. you hate it. but you also think you'll live the rest of your life chasing this very feeling that ellie gives you. whatever that may be.
"y' don't have to." she mumbles, voice quiet and graveling with exhaustion. her eyelids are weighed with her being tired. you frown, wiping your tools clean as you look at her from over the cart.
"yes i do." you insist. "it's the least you deserve."
her brow knits at this, threaded with confusion. "wha'd'you mean?"
"you're a war soldier, williams." you tell her, finishing your tool tending and crossing your arms over your chest. "you and your crew put your life in danger every fucking day. the least i could do is get you a tray of damn food."
"y' say that like y' don't spend your life tendin' t' us." she slurs. "y' don't owe me anythin'."
"i watch you guys, y'know." you tell her. "when the medical work runs low and i run out of shit to do, i sit outside and watch the soldiers train. and let me tell you, just watching what you're put through is enough to never make me want to go anywhere near your job. you're forced to work through harsh weather and grave situations."
her eyes are pinned to you as you speak. and, for some reason, her gaze has a certain weight to it that makes you want to simultaneously cower from her and run at her. it's driving you mad. but you can't look away, your eyes staying trained on hers as you continue.
"all the while, i sit in some tent and stitch people up all day." you say. "so let me at least bring you some fucking dinner. and don't you dare tell me no, williams, because i won't listen."
she blinks, "now i see why y' scare the shit outta everyone."
"are you saying that you're scared of me?" you narrow your eyes at her, rounding the cart to approach her cot with a raised brow.
"i'd be a damn fool not t' be." she chuckles, shocking you both as she manages to not cough this time. "dunno how y' did it, but everyone know better than t' fuck with you."
"perfect." you grin at this. though, when you see the look on ellie's face, you shoot her a deep scowl. "don't you go ruining my reputation now, williams. when you leave this place, you better tell everyone i was a complete bitch to you."
"yes ma'am." she agrees with a wide smile. your heart nearly melts at the sight of it.
ellie looks at you like you hung the stars in the sky, her eyes darting between each of yours as she continues to smile ever so slightly. in her gaze, you're literally perfect. a painting made by someone who'd experienced nothing but beauty and love in their life. and her delirium only adds onto this, making you out to be even more alluring and angelic than before.
i mean, who could blame her? she'd been dying in the sand, writhing and screaming. and suddenly, the most beautiful woman she'd ever laid her eyes on is walking onto the scene and taking the world by storm, voice strong and gaze even stronger. she was incapable of looking away the entire time you tended to her.
"oh!" you suddenly burst out, mind reminding her of something. you turn away from her to grab something and she instantly wants to force you to turn back toward her. you turn back around a moment later, orange bottle of pills in your hand. "want any painkillers?"
her eyes instantly light up, "please."
"don't sound so desperate now, williams." you tease, unscrewing the lid and pouring two of them into the palm of your hand. you pass them to her and she downs them instantly, no water needed. you smile, "not only will they lessen the pain, but they'll help you to fall asleep too. i know personally how hard it is to rest knowing that half your leg is missing, so.."
her gaze trail down your body, taking in your complete limbs. though, she ought to admit she allowed her eyes to wander a bit, taking in the curves and dips of your body as she imagines what it'd be like to memorize each feature with her mouth.
she looks back up at your face as though she weren't just imagining the most filthy things about you. "doesn't seem like you'd know personally. y' have all your legs."
"well, not personally, i suppose." you agree, waving a dismissive hand at her comment. "my father was missing an arm, a few fingers, and most of his ear. so i know more closely than most, but you're right it's not exactly personal."
"your father was in the military, right?" she questions, eyes drooping as the pills begin to kick in. "super high rank. i've heard his name 'round."
"yep," you nod pridefully.
"that's—" she blinks harshly, sleep wrapping its hands around her as it beckons her to give in to its taunting. "that's so awesome."
"do you even remember what we were talking about?" you laugh.
she sighs heavily, thinking hard. "uhh,"
"it's fine," you assure her, watching her with a fond smile. "go to sleep, now. you've deserved it."
"mm," she hums, seeming to be incapable of processing your words. she then reaches a hand toward you, fingertips brushing the coat of your white jacket stained with her blood. "wanna do me a favor?"
you raise a brow, "what type of favor?"
"t' help m' sleep." she murmurs. you take a step closer, barely able to hear her. a small smile tugs her lips at your proximity. "kiss me."
your eyes widen, "i can't—"
"pleaseee." she begs, voice rough with sleep.
"i'd feel guilty the rest of my life, williams." you struggle to explain. "you're in pain and on a heavy drug. plus, we've just met and i've never seen you without some sort of delirium effecting you. i can't kiss you or i'll feel like i took advantage of you."
"but 'm asking." she continues to plead with you, pale green eyes looking up at you through droopy eyes and filthy hair.
she looks so fucking perfect like this, her features rested and vulnerable. something about the sight of her feels intimate. you'd seen her before, of course. she's ellie williams. she's an absolute monster on the field. she's not super high ranking seeing as she's only been in for a year and a half, but she's well respected and liked among the men.
before this, you'd only ever seen her wrestling with big buff men and scaling walls in her uniform. but right now, she's anything but the woman you'd previously deemed her to be. and, oddly, you think you might like this better. like you're seeing as side of her that nobody else is allowed to see. like a secret.
"how about this," you say.
you then lean forward and press your lips to her forehead. she shuts her eyes, relaxing against the feel of the kiss. she hums lowly, shoulders drooping into the pillow. you pull back and her eyes remain closed. as though she's trying desperately to draw the moment out for as long as possible.
"that way," you tell her, "you get your kiss and i don't feel guilty about it."
"smart girl," she hums, mimicking the very words you'd said to her earlier. you smile, though she doesn't see her as her eyes remain closed. when she opens them, they're bloodshot from pure fatigue. "when 'm all better, will y' kiss me? like, a forreal kiss?"
you laugh, shaking your head fondly, "sure, ellie. why not?"
the sound of her name on your tongue and the promise of a possible future kiss is enough for her. she shuts her eyes and burrows deep into the pillow. the pain in her amputated leg remains long forgotten as her mind is far more interested in the memory of your smile and the sound of your voice, dreams full of naught but you all night long.
a kiss from an angel.
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⊹ ࣪ ˖𐙚 perm. taglist : @luvsturniolo @ilovewomenfr @zzombiegirl @elliessweetheart
⊹ ࣪ ˖𐙚 fic taglist : @dinakisser @uselessnewt @mellifluousgirll @divinely-yourz @ladyofcain
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mywritersmind · 18 days ago
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SLIM PICKINS - LN4
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summary : in which y/n is over her pathetic love life and lando sees an obvious way to fix her situation. inspired by slim pickins by sabrina carpenter ifykyk😘
listen up : no warnings !! i don’t write smut so sorry lol
word count : 600
⋆。‧˚⋆
“I’m literally going to die alone!” I groan and lay back on my bed, on the phone with my friend.
She laughs on the other side, “You’re so dramatic!”
“I am not! These are just my thoughts.” She makes the point that my phone is constantly blown up by men, “Yes well they’re all douchebags! All I want is a boy who’s jacked and kind!”
“What about Lando, then? You always complain but Lando Norris is the definition of that!” I groan into the phone. My infamous best friend, the subject of my fantasy’s and utterly and completely off limits.
I’d be lying if I said I hadn’t thought about it, many times. “No chance.”
“But why!?”
I sigh, “He’s just… my friend! I don’t even see him like that.”
I hear her scoff dramatically, “You don’t see him as jacked or kind!? Do we need to get your eyes checked?”
I hang up.
⋆༺
There’s a boy in my room an hour later, laying next to me after putting out in five minutes. I text Lando to call me with an ‘emergency’ so he’s gone as quick as possible.
Lando laughs over the phone, “That bad, huh?”
I fall onto my bed, screaming into my pillow, “He didn’t even know the difference between their, there, and they are.” I hear his laugh on the other side, biting my lip from screaming even more because he sounds so damn sexy.
“Sorry love…” fuck, that nickname. “ever tried it with a girl? It’s fun.” He’s joking to boost my mood but I just frown.
“I think the Lord forgot my gay awakening.”
⋆༺
I walk with Lando to the elevator, drinks and shopping bags in hand, “So, what? You’re just gonna keep moaning and bitching until a man falls into your lap?”
“The good ones are all deceased or taken.” I shrug, “So yes. I mean seriously- what’s a girl to do? Every man is evil and lazy but I gotta get off somehow.” Lando chokes on his drink.
“Shit, Y/n. Tell it to me straight then.” I roll my eyes as we exit the elevator. We walk his room, swinging my bags and throwing them onto the couch, “So what is your type then?”
I plop down on his bed, laying back and staring at the ceiling, “Any nice man who breathes? Someone who’s jacked and kind!” He laughs, “I’m serious!”
He’s still laughing, I throw a pillow at him, “Come on!” he shakes his head.
“Lando!” I watch him shake his head and throw the pillow back. “What is so funny?”
“I’m jacked and kind.” He shrugs, unscrewing his water bottle top and taking a swing.
I lean back on my hands, tilting my head to look at my best friend, “Lando.”
He's still drinking water when he pulls up his shirt, revealing his *ahem* jacked body. Fuck.
Look, seeing Lando’s face and arms every day is enough to keep me up at night. But this? THIS!? I’m fucked. At least I wish I was (by him).
“You’re staring.” He teases, dropping the fabric and putting his water down. I am staring. And I do not have any plans to stop.
“Lando.” I warn as he steps closer, a slow smirk forming on his face.
“Y/n.” He mocks me in that sexy voice he does. “Say the words, love. I’m there.” His knees knock mine, he’s standing right in front of me and looking down with those green eyes of his.
“Please.” I whisper, and he’s on me in an instant.
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munariplans · 10 months ago
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welcome home, red | natasha romanoff
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synopsis: natasha knew going on a mission where you were deliberately left out was a bad idea. going on a mission tracking down your ex-girlfriend was even worse; for natasha finally learns how jealous she can get.
natasha romanoff x reader | felicia hardy x reader
word count: 6.7k words
a/n: i see your requests for jealous!natasha with spidey!reader, and i got you :) hope you enjoy!
masterlist
BREAKING NEWS: CURIOSITY KILLS THE CAT? you know what they say, strike when the iron is hot! well, the black cat, infamous for her string of break-ins and robberies, may have struck the iron and burned herself. stealing a prized necklace from the wife of new york’s biggest crime boss, the black cat has certainly outdone herself this time, because silvio manfredi is out for her head, and everyone else’s too! read more on page 6 of this exclusive piece. 
perplexed expressions, furrowed eyebrows, sighs of frustration. everyone was on edge, at the threat of the manfredi family wanting to blow up entire parts of new york in order to find the black cat. villains were so dramatic, natasha thought. in no universe would she have ever wanted to threaten to kill entire cities for the love of her life, if one even existed. 
but then her phone chimed in with a notification from you, sending a photo of her favourite animal that you spotted on your mission, and she knew she would be retracting her words. even in life-threatening, death-defying missions that you were on, you never forgot to see her everywhere you went. stupid feelings, and stupid crushes, natasha shut her eyes, fighting the urge to giggle at a text from the person she was head over heels for. 
“natasha?”
she looked up from her phone, to realise she was the only one still in a half-positive mood. everyone else was biting their lips in worry. she regained her composure, and answered fury, “yeah?”
“you heard me? we’re not leaking this information to her. she won’t be a part of this mission at all.”
the look of confusion on her face gave her away. clint, maria, and fury answered her at the same time. 
“your little crush.”
“your wife that you claim isn’t.”
“the person you’re smiling at your phone like an idiot at.”
she glared at clint for the last remark. 
“...is there a reason why?” the mission had seemed almost perfectly suited to your skillset. 
fury merely shrugged. “no reason. it should just be you three that are privy to this information, that’s all. find the black cat, find the necklace, use it to rope manfredi in, and one less crime boss off the streets.”
even then, she had a nagging feeling that he had not been telling the truth.
– 
you ended your latest mission with a bang; quite literally. being flung about fifty metres into the air from a bomb explosion in the middle of the ocean, you would hardly call the mission a failure. no civilians were injured, you had killed the maker of the bomb along with it, and you were not dead, at least. 
washing up on shore unconscious and with water in your lungs? a concussion that would have sent any regular person into a permanent coma? being found by villagers and rushed to the medical wing of the avengers tower within a span of a few hours? almost pronounced dead on arrival? sure, you were all of those, but not dead. 
honestly, you would have given very little regard for your own life being lost in that mission if not for one person. the one person who stayed with you until the very last minute for her own mission. 
“i need to stop welcoming you back in a hospital bed, you know,” natasha grumbled into your neck, hugging you bone-crushingly when you awoke and smiled at her. 
she looked mad, but you knew she was just thankful you were home. you wrapped your arms around her waist and brought her to lie down on top of you. she was reluctant to crush your already broken ribs, but you were insistent. “i missed you too. and if i hadn’t been blown up, i had planned to bring back a souvenir from the airport for you.”
“you coming back is enough for me,” she mumbled. you knew she was never this vulnerable with anyone else. the words of because i love you were begging to roll off her tongue, but natasha knew she wasn’t strong enough for that. yet.
you let her ignore the first call for her to assemble at the loading zone, then the second, by the third, your hand had tapped her waist and she had groaned into you once more. “i don’t want to go.”
“what’s this mission about, anyway? nobody’s told me about it since i got here.”
natasha considered her choice of words for a moment, considering whether she should, when fury’s own warnings came back to her. she was never one to break promises. “just some…thing. about retrieving something and using it to lure a criminal.”
you chuckled. “seems like more of a police case than an avenger’s one. or one for a friendly neighbourhood spider.”
“well, the friendly neighbourhood spider looks like a mummy right now, so i don’t think so,” she had reluctantly got up, gathering her things, “i’ll see you in a few days?”
you let her hug you goodbye. “by then, i’ll be fit enough to welcome you home. properly.”
natasha once again found it hard to understand why fury hadn’t just waited for you to get slightly better, and go for this mission yourself, because the black cat’s tricks and games were definitely something you could have handled better than anyone he had assigned on the current team. she struggled to even catch up with the woman, and clint’s arrows often couldn’t squeeze deep enough into the slips and cracks she was slipping through. maria couldn’t even get a shot or trap clear to get to her. it would all have been solved so quickly with your webs zipping and getting to her; not to mention your ability to soar through the skies like she could. 
this was in addition to the fact that she was adamantly denying having the necklace with her. 
with another hit to the face, she was shouting to natasha, “i don’t have what you’re looking for!”
natasha swallowed the blood gathering in her mouth. the woman could throw a punch. “then why are you running?” black cat cornered her this time, slamming her against the wall as her breath mixed with natasha’s. immediately, it was too close, far too close. the grin that the enemy was sporting for her was glinting with mischief, and a trace of attraction. “...if someone as pretty as you were chasing me, with those fiery eyes and red hair of yours, who wouldn’t?” 
she was gone before natasha could catch her next breath, handcuffing the black widow to the pipe next to her. she had come so close. natasha knew the black cat was at her wit’s end as well; there was only so far she could run from the avengers.
however, one thing the woman had failed to consider, was how suspicious you found the entire operation being. rarely had natasha refused to tell you about the missions she was going on, and rarely did fury put so much emphasis in hiding it from you either. 
you weren’t in favour of stalking them, per se, but what were you supposed to do? the hospital wing was boring, and you were (almost) ready to go back to full, operational missions. the broken rib was only hurting a little bit, by that point. 
you watched maria through the tracker in her suit, flipping through yet another string of messages natasha had left unanswered. she never failed to reply to you, at least not beyond a day or two. 
sighing, you put your mask back on, and dived down the building to begin your chase. the team wasn’t far away. 
“we got her. hill should be able to lure her into the construction site.” clint’s comms crackled in natasha’s ear, and she set herself into position. finally, one of the traps maria had set worked. minimal casualties, a faraway location. the team should be able to interrogate her there.
natasha finally caught up. the black cat, panting and looking slightly less composed, had nowhere to run. she knew clint was on the roof, and maria was nearby. there was only the waters behind her to escape to. 
she aimed her gun, then, “let’s make this a lot easier for all of us. you hand us the necklace, you’re looking at a shorter jail term. months, maybe.”
the black cat only returned with another smart retort, before trying to take aim at maria above. she cursed and flinched when the agent successfully dodged. natasha, i am letting the arrow fly if she tries to get any closer to you, clint declared in her comms. natasha agreed. 
the woman took one step closer, natasha clicked her gun. 
“you have to let me go,” she explained, “they want me as bad as you do.”
“you’d rather come with us, or die with them?”
black cat sighed irritatedly. she darted her eyes once more, and the moment she spotted something in the sky, the ground beneath natasha suddenly shook. 
she could only see clint’s arrow fly at the corner of her vision; maria ducking down after something hit her, and then, her own gun flying out of her hands. natasha hit the ground right after, rolling away consciously to avoid whatever had caused the interruption. 
the second she gathered her bearings, however, it felt like time had stopped. her heart began beating rapidly, and she knew she should have just bypassed fury’s advice right away then. if she had, she wouldn’t be dealing with this right now. 
for if she had, natasha wouldn’t be staring down at you, standing in front of the black cat protectively, glaring at the three of them, and their weapons confiscated and broken into pieces right at your feet. 
you had never looked more angry. in fact, natasha had never even seen you this angry before. fists clenched, your stance was protective, the eye lenses narrowed and squinting down at her in rage. she had never been subject to even an ounce of irritation from you before. natasha was almost afraid of what would happen. 
thankfully, clint and maria had come down from where they were, clint with considerably more caution in his step than he had been much earlier.
he called your name, and, “i need you to calm down. we–”
“–i don’t need to hear an explanation.” you cut him off. behind you, the black cat grinned, and came a little closer. you seemed to pay her no mind.
“we couldn’t tell you,” maria tried helping him, but the glare you shot at her wasn’t much better.
“you absolutely could,” then, your eyes met natasha’s, and she wanted to crumble under your gaze, “you absolutely could.”
clint pointed out it wasn’t fair, that you knew how these things went, and then, in a lower tone, “she doesn’t know. let it go.”
“why were you chasing her?” you only replied, shielding the black cat when maria tried aiming her spare gun as the woman came to your side, “we had a deal.”
“our deal didn’t involve her stealing a necklace that could wreck cities. you’ve already seen the bombings down in harlem and hell’s kitchen, do you still want to protect her for this one?” 
your facade cracked in the slightest bit. only natasha noticed, but your eyes had gone slightly wider, a questioning look sent to the woman behind you. with your stance a little more tense, you were about to lower the hand protecting her, when natasha quickly realised that your confrontation had bought her just enough time.
the black cat slung her arms around your torso, and pressed a kiss to your cheek before whispering, “my hero, my spider. always coming to save me.” 
all natasha saw was blind rage before the tear gas that black cat had thrown shrouded everything else in pain and smoke. she could hear clint screaming in frustration of just what it meant.
by the time the team had torn through the gas, you and her were gone.
clint had exactly three seconds to register the mad woman storming towards him, before he was slammed against the wall with natasha’s face up in his. he breathed heavily, the air still thick from the gas, but natasha’s fists were enough to ground him back to reality.
“alright, enough games. i was kind then, i’m not feeling so kind now. who. exactly. is. this. black. cat?” she gritted her teeth saying the last few words, the searing memory of seeing another press her lips against you still fresh in her mind.
if he wasn’t so afraid for his life, clint would almost have found the jealousy and possessiveness natasha claimed she never had over you quite funny. 
but her hands were almost choking him by then, the anger coursing through her veins and the hurt of you keeping such a huge secret from her fuelling only her rage.
had she been a fool for trusting that you would stay loyal in your pure, unbridled love for her all this while? perhaps not. perhaps you, like everyone else, got tired of waiting for her to be ready, too. perhaps you weren’t what she thought you were after all. 
when it was clear the archer couldn’t find the words to tell her, maria answered for him. she pulled natasha away, and forced her to think clearly again.
finally, when she was calm enough to hear the both of them out, maria announced that the black cat, felicia hardy, had been your ex-girlfriend.
while felicia was more than happy to be swinging through the city in your arms again, you were getting more and more anxious; what clint had said still ringing in your ears. surely, felicia wouldn’t do that, she wouldn’t risk her life, and so many others’, like that. surely, she wasn’t so stupid.
you landed abruptly through her apartment window, shattering the glass to her kitchen and throwing the both of you on the ground. felicia groaned at the rough landing, and you had half a mind to apologise for getting distracted and missing the window, but you remembered that you should be even angrier at her.
“what the hell were you doing?” you interrogated, and when it appeared that felicia was keen on escaping, your webs were binding her to the dining room chair. “stealing a necklace, i don’t care. but stealing manfredi’s wife’s necklace!”
“aw, so you do still care about me, spider,” felicia cooed as you took off your mask and sat across from her. you had wanted to shake her in frustration, to give you answers instead of flirting with you once again.
you held your hands out in front of her, and she continued, “bringing me home, swinging through the city, just like we used to. bailing me out from your stupid friends, trying to save the world. you’ve always been a romantic.”
“they’re my colleagues. and my family now too. you…felicia…why?” you still couldn’t wrap your head around why she had decided to steal that necklace, of all things. it was not like she needed the cash, and if she had wanted to find a way to fuck around and feed her kleptomania, there were so many other necklaces that were beautiful, worthy of stealing. surely not manfredi’s.
she shot you a dopey smile, and you sighed in frustration. there was always back and forth with felicia. “spider, spider…”
you stood to clear your head before you would resort to punching her, time being of the essence with so many parts of new york being bombed and her being her usual self around you. heading to her sink, you let the water run; you couldn’t hurt felicia even if you tried. damn yourself for never being able to do so.
but then, her voice was softer, kinder. “...you never considered if what your friends are saying is the truth?”
head hung low, you gazed up to her. the webs were gone, and she was standing over you, though keeping a safe distance. she knew you were still fuming, and confused, and feeling so many things at once. she continued, “you never considered the fact that maybe, just maybe, i didn’t steal the necklace? you blindly trust your friends, just like that?”
your spider senses weren’t tingling. she was being honest. switching off the tap, you turned to face her, and she took off her own goggles, letting her hair down. this was her best attempt at being vulnerable. but you weren’t so quick to fall for it; she had gotten past your defences before. “they’re better at being honest than you are.”
you missed the hurt look that flashed on her face momentarily. then, you stood straighter, a hand gripping the counter as you steadied yourself and what you were about to say. 
shaking your head, you faced felicia with, “this, this, is why we broke up. because you can’t stop lying, and you can’t keep the life of crime behind you. even when i told you i can’t stay with you because of it, even when i told you that…if you gave it all up, i would have done anything, anything, to provide for the both of us. i would’ve even left SHIELD, the avengers, everything, for you.”
felicia bit her lip then, crossing over the threshold between the living room and kitchen, standing before you. you weren’t on your guard anymore. she put up a hand to your cheek, the sharp claws slowly running through soft skin. she could have scratched a permanent scar there and you would have let her.
she could have let her emotions run, but felicia was always better than you were at keeping matters close to her heart guarded. instead, she scoffed, and said, “the red one. out of your friends earlier. i’ve never seen her before.”
“she’s…newer.”
“she’s pretty. smart, capable, quick on her feet.” felicia pointed out. you nodded your head, the thought of natasha being mad, and confused, suddenly sending a wave of guilt through your heart. you shouldn’t have gotten so angry with her. she didn’t know.
“she was also green with jealousy when i kissed you on the cheek,” felicia giggled, and you looked up sharply. she nodded, and continued, “are you and red together now?”
you blinked, almost letting your guard down, almost telling felicia everything. that you wished you were together with red, that you loved red more than you loved anything else, that red was all that you ever wanted. and that red, mostly, was not ready for it all, but you would gladly wait for red until she was. that you would do anything for red. that–
“don’t touch her.” you warned, voice suddenly serious. the hand on your face was removed, a death grip with your own. felicia smiled. 
“so protective, spider. i miss when you were that protective over me.”
she removed her hand from your own, and walked to her bathroom, before bringing out her first-aid kit. clint had shot an arrow that managed to slice past her thigh. you watched as she nursed herself back to health, not flinching even as she invited you to come over to help. 
felicia could tell you had a lot on your mind. bringing up natasha was probably not a good choice. but felicia still cared for you, at the very least, and helped put you out of your misery by saying, later on, “i didn’t steal the necklace, you know. i’m telling the truth.”
your eyes were still fixed on her from where you were in the kitchen. she sighed. “the avengers, and practically everybody else, think it’s me. and of course, i fit the description, i fit the motive, everything. it was so easy to pin it on me and let everyone chase after me. but i didn’t steal the fucking necklace. i found out about it being gone and me being a thief the same time you all did.”
“...then why did you run?”
she scoffed, as if you had just said the stupidest thing in the world. “because they were threatening to kill me, spider. i have the whole world against me. and…and i didn’t have you to come rescue me anymore, i thought. i had to run.”
“when you were innocent?”
“better than being killed by fucking gangsters, right?”
“you could’ve called me.”
she looked up at you. you had sat down in front of her, inspecting the bandages she had wrapped around her thigh. when you slowly unwrapped them to help put them on tighter for her, felicia asked, “...would you have come?”
you didn’t make eye contact with her. but the hand on her thigh was enough reassurance. “you know i would’ve.”
sixty seconds was not a long time. but to felicia, sixty seconds of her own contemplation, her going against her own head and morals, of thinking if it was worth what would come after what she was going to do, felt like forever. she was breathing heavily in the cold night air, your eyes were transfixed on the bandages before you, hand not moving an inch, and she didn’t know what else she was supposed to do. what else she could do. 
so after those sixty seconds, felicia leaned in and kissed you. again. again and again, just like old times, just like all those heists and burglaries you had rescued her from before. your lips tasted the same, the arms around her felt as safe as ever, and when she pushed you into her bedroom and began undressing the both of you, the look of longing, and betrayed love you gave her was one she knew all too well. 
her hips moved against yours that night, hands thrashing and fingers finding their way into each other’s hair, and for a while, felicia knew she was safe again. for a while, the avengers, manfredi and his stupid goons, everyone else, was drowned out by the sound of your moans and cries, and felicia could let go. she finally reunited with her spider, even if just for a night, and what a reunion it fucking was for her.
– 
the next morning, however, you were dressed before she could even lift her head off of the pillow, shaking your head and muttering, “i have to go back. i have to go back. they’ll be looking for me.”
she could tell you were surprised by her interruption of, “and what if they do?”
“they’ll think i’m working with you. and i can’t be seen working with you.”
it felt almost cathartic to say, “fuck you.”
you then turned, a sympathetic look on your face and an apology leaving your lips in the next second. “you know what i mean, felicia.”
“you don’t think i’m telling the truth? that i didn’t steal the fucking necklace?”
you were silent for a while. your hand was crushing the shirt you were holding, deep in thought. if it weren’t for your spider senses, you would have almost missed catching the pillow felicia had thrown at you.
putting the pillow down, you then turned to her again, and said, “i’m giving you the opportunity to prove you’re telling the truth. come back to the avengers tower and work with us on finding the real thief.”
natasha couldn’t believe that you thought bringing felicia back was a good idea. that you thought any part of your plan was a good idea at all. 
it was one of the rare few times that she had voiced out what she thought was a stupid plan; tapping into the black cat’s skills and intel, and trusting her with information, to draw out the real thief of the necklace. it was one of the rare few times she was arguing with you. 
there had been more you’re putting all of us at risk and i don’t see a better solution exchanges between the both of you, each one escalating in intensity. the rest of the team were equally on natasha’s side, with the exception of fury, who had been brought in to weigh in on the situation. you had spent another hour convincing him earlier not to turn felicia in himself.
in the end, he stepped in, and natasha was bound to follow his directions. that didn’t stop her from sporting the most irritated, annoyed look on her face, however, as she brusquely brushed past you and felicia, who looked more than smug that she was temporarily welcomed back to the team. you were about to give chase, when fury instructed you not to. it was best to let natasha calm down first.
“pissed off red to bring me in,” felicia caressed your face then, causing you to bite your lip in annoyance as well, “i’m honoured, spider.”
she could feel herself sinking in jealousy; watching the way you and felicia interacted. 
you helping felicia to put on the comms in her ear and the bulletproof linings in her suit; you used to help natasha with that. even when she had gotten more accustomed to the avengers, even when she could put it on herself by then.
you letting felicia take the seat beside yours in the quinjet. it clearly was natasha’s, it even had her fucking initials carved into the armrest on it, when she was bored on a flight once. truth be damned that fury had requested you to keep felicia on a tight leash, but the seat beside yours? really? it hurt more than it should have, as natasha forced herself to avoid eye contact with you right as she stormed past you. you only realised your mistake a second or two later, seeing her angry charge to the very back of the jet, and you were just about to ask felicia to move the seat in front of yours when natasha had told you to save whatever you wanted to say to her. 
felicia could almost laugh at how nervous, and guilty, you looked all throughout the flight. if she wasn’t so on edge from the mission requirements and having to work in a team herself, she could almost feel a tinge of jealousy that you were treating your new girl better than you had ever treated her, even. red must have been special, she thought, as you finally unbuckled your seatbelt and made the journey to the back when the flight stabilised.
“nat,” you called her uncertainly, fingers digging into your palms as you waited patiently for her to finish chewing out a younger agent to look at you. then, she made eye contact with you, standing by her seat and eyes insecure, and she hated herself for not being able to stay mad at you for long.
still, she had a facade to keep. “what?”
you let out a smile when she came back to your side, gratefully taking the seat beside hers. “i’m sorry.”
“for what?”
“i don’t know,” you had an inkling that you knew what, but you continued, “you’re mad at me. and i’m sorry for the disagreement earlier. i just…i have a plan, alright? and i’m sure it’s going to work, so…i wanted to defend myself. i’m sorry if it made you upset.”
she huffed, rolling her eyes. out of the corner of her eye, however, she could spot you looking even more guilty, and she relented. “you did make me mad.”
“i really am–”
“–but work is work, i know. and i trust your capabilities. you better bring the thief back with a plan, because it’s going to be a lot of paperwork and answering to board members if this doesn’t work out. and i’m not staying up late for all the nights you’re going to do that with you.”
she thought it was stupid how her heart managed to beat impossibly faster as your smile grew, nodding gratefully. “thank you for trusting me.”
then, the both of you spotted felicia unbuckling her seatbelt too, and approaching maria upfront. you made the decision to let the agent handle her for a while, returning your gaze to natasha.
somehow, the both of you managed to blurt out felicia’s name at the same time, both raising the other’s eyebrows. 
“you go first,” natasha declared. you nodded.
“are you okay with her? i know…that you’re not so comfortable working with the enemy. i’ll keep her by my side for the whole mission, and we’ll stay away, so you don’t get bothered so much.”
natasha thought it was amazing how oblivious you were; that the problem was you being too close to felicia, and not close enough to her. that she didn’t want you sticking by felicia’s side, because she was scared she was going to lose you to her instead.
“i…” before she could finish her sentence, however, maria was screaming for you, for felicia had finally annoyed her enough to warrant a restrain back to her seat. that, coupled with the fact that she had stolen maria’s watch without her looking even back at the construction site, and she had finally noticed.
i wish i didn’t have to share you with her, was what natasha wanted to say, as felicia giggled at your rough handling of her back to her seat, attempting to squirm out of your grasp. 
the mole had been from SHIELD; as felicia’s expertise let on. she had data from all around new york, obtained less than illegally, and with the technological expertise from maria, the team managed to crack down just who had been plotting for the downfall of manfredi, and collaterally, new york, all along.
the jet made a ninety degree return after wasting time chasing a lead that had previously run dry, and you  were at the other end of a phone call receiving fury’s wrath at the discovery of there being a mole from SHIELD. you had wanted to tell him it wasn’t so surprising, with the onslaught of rapid new hires, but decided to hold your tongue. 
it was you who finally proved that having felicia onboard was a good idea. coming up with a plan in a span of a few minutes, it was so well thought-out and elaborate, maximising everyone’s skills and covering every single possible outcome for capturing the thief, natasha found herself incredibly endeared with your cleverness; hanging on to your every word as you explained the details to the team gathered around you. 
in fact, her dopey look directed at you was what prompted felicia to snicker, and blurt, “so smitten with our spider now are we, red? earlier you looked like you wanted to bite her head off when she was fighting for me.”
to natasha’s surprise, it was you who stepped in first, “enough, felicia. focus.”
it was all the more attractive, and endearing, when she caught you preventing felicia from leaving later, warning her with a “don’t touch her” again, whatever it meant. natasha had wanted to throw her arms around you and kiss you right in that moment.
with felicia on her right, and you close behind her, natasha was chasing the thief, almost expertly slipping in and out, zigzagging through the maze of buildings surrounding the area. but you knew that the road would end at an intersection, and natasha and felicia would inevitably have to split to take a chance on where the thief would go.��
and while natasha had hoped wholeheartedly that you would take her side, and trust her instincts, her movements faltered when she snuck a look behind to find you gone. in the next second, you were by felicia’s side, helping her whizz through the crowds and getting even closer to the thief as you flew. 
heart beating fast in her chest, she hadn’t noticed how much it hurt to even see you choose someone else, even for a brief moment. you had made the decision that would best benefit the team, she knew, but professionalism didn’t count for the ache in her heart then, as she picked up her pace again and unwillingly round the corner in hopes of cutting off the culprit. 
it was felicia that landed the final blow; catching the thief with a taser sharp enough for you to stop him mid-air, and pinning him to the ground. and after some struggle and maria finally arriving with backup, you were finally relieved of your sudden duties to go on a mission so soon.
catching your breath, you didn’t realise how much your ribs were actually hurting until then. maybe minding your own business the next time wasn’t such a bad idea. 
but then, felicia was by your side, providing a shoulder for you to hold on to for support, as you heaved and pressed your arms against your ribs in an effort to stop it from hurting when you breathed too hard. it was one of the few kind things she had done; the least she could do for you after you’ve helped to clear her name, once again.
you leaned into her support, and upon sensing that her job, and temporary alliance with the avengers, was done, she whisked you away briefly to discuss her options before the actual avengers took matters into their own hands. 
natasha watched from a distance as you walked away in felicia’s arms; understanding how betrayed you could have felt with the avengers, and how painful it must have been to find a mole in the very organisation you had worked for for so long. what she couldn’t understand was how you could possibly be leaving her, when you would be taking her whole heart with you if you left, as well. 
if natasha had more courage, she would have at least tried to stopping you. but she couldn’t, and wouldn’t, ever want to force you to stay. even if it was possibly the last time she was seeing you, even if it meant the possibility of you leaving before she has the chance to tell you she loves you.
her chest was closing in on her, breaths short and restrictive, and natasha knew she had to get away before the world caved in on her.
felicia led you into a clearing, and you forced yourself to let go of her to lean against a wall. you could tell she was looking at you with pity, and bit your lip at the foul taste it left in your mouth. 
“compromised intelligence, your friends at each others’ throats, your own boss not trusting you enough to see me again,” she pointed out, hiding a teasing smirk, “your future’s looking bright, spider.”
“thanks.”
she watched you slide down the wall, the pain exploding on your side. you hated that she sunk to your level, and reached out for your hand. you didn’t know why you let her. her fingers were cold as she held your own. 
“give it up, then. there’s no hope staying now, right?”
you let out a sneer. “then where would i go?”
“with me. come with me. would you be able to do it? give all this up for me now?”
you realised that felicia had suddenly grown more vulnerable; her eyes a little teary and her lip between her teeth. her other hand was helping you hold on to your injury, her touch cold and unsure. a sigh left your lips, knowing her usual teasing glint was gone. this was the felicia you loved most in the past.
but it was not felicia you loved, not anymore. and while you were thankful for the opportunity to love her, and that you didn’t regret what you had with her, you knew your heart was with someone else now. someone who was waiting for you to return home to her, someone who loved you more than you knew of it yourself. 
you slowly removed the hand that was holding your injury, smiling at felicia. she knew.
“red?”
“i have red now. and you and i are better off apart, you know this, felicia,” you held her face in your hands then, tone comforting, “you know i care about you, always have, always will. and thank you, for loving me, and helping us for this mission. but i’m not going anywhere without natasha.”
her claws withdrawn, felicia nodded understandingly. you continued, “keep your head low for a while. manfredi will still be looking for you, so will the police. i’ll try to cover up for you as much as i can, but don’t get into too much trouble. there’s only so much i can do.”
she laughed, getting up as she heard the police sirens approaching. she was sure you had picked up on it much earlier. 
“red really is special, huh?” you nodded at her question, smiling at the thought of going back to natasha later on. 
“bye for now then, spider,” her hair blowing in the wind, felicia almost looked finally at peace. 
“take care, felicia.”
you informed the police officers that you saw the black cat disappear from your sight just seconds before you arrived.
natasha was lying alone in bed by the time the other avengers returned. having left early, her room was dark and silent; the only sounds of her chest heaving quickly and her cracked sobs filling the air. 
there was a knock on the door from maria, calling out for her, but natasha ignored her subsequent knocks after telling her to go away from the first one. 
but then an hour later, there were two signature knocks on her door, following by you keying in the passcode to her room that she had only told you, and natasha’s attention was suddenly rapt.
she realised she probably looked a mess, and pathetic, for sobbing her eyes at out at the mere possibility of you leaving. but in her defence, she didn’t know, and you mattered too much to her for her to see you leave right in front of her eyes. 
“don’t switch on the light,” she warned, and your hand retracted from the light switch. you were about to ask her why, when she continued, “just…come here. come here and hold me, please.”
you were more than happy to oblige, sliding between the sheets and having your arms find themselves around her shivering body. she naturally leaned back into you, and natasha wondered if your senses were more elevated than she thought they could be, as your hands came up to wipe the tears she didn’t want you to see.
at the comfort of your touch, she could only ask, “...are you leaving me? for…the black cat?” 
she could feel you smile behind her, and your head resting at the space between her neck and shoulder. instead of replying, you said, “i actually went out to get you some donuts, and a few movies for us to watch, you know. i finally get to welcome you home, properly.”
natasha feels like her heart is going to burst. you chose her.
“but of course…just being with you is enough. just us, staying like this, is enough.”
natasha finally turned, seeing that you were still injured, but you reassured her by slowly massaging the frown and worry lines off her face. 
she pouted. “she’s pretty.”
you brought her to a sitting position, letting her on top as you rubbed your hands over her back. “you’re prettier.”
“has nice blue eyes.”
you kissed her, softly, slowly. “mhmm, i prefer green eyes.”
“i bet you looked good with her.” she could only imagine how powerful the two of you looked; the spider and the black cat swinging through new york city. it was definitely a force to be reckoned with.
you let her see the selection of donuts you had bought; each spelling out a letter in welcome home. “i feel better when i’m with you.”
natasha finally looks back up at you, and she understands. you never had the intention of leaving. you belonged to her, right from the start.
that night, when you had fallen asleep, one arm slung around her protectively, natasha finally has the courage to tell you what she has always felt.
“i love you,” she says, before amassing all her love into the kiss she landed on your lips.
in your slumber, you smiled, and the redness didn’t leave her cheeks, even until the morning. 
2K notes · View notes
solbaby7 · 8 months ago
Note
I loved Blurred Lines!! Do you think you’d ever want to do a part 2 for when Rhys shows up? 👀 👀🔥
[ part one ]
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Rhysand hears you before he see’s you.
Unhinged shouts and the rhythmic smacking of skin on skin pulling him closer, beckoning him inside. The concealed safe house reeks of sex, clothes scattered around the floor from the moment he walks in; chairs are tipped over, rugs askew and there’s a dent on the hallway wall.
He doesn’t bother calling out for you, certain that you probably wouldn’t hear him anyway through the drug-induced haze. The traces of it lingers in your scent, spiking sweet honey and brown sugar with strong notes of spicy cinnamon that settles thick in his throat. “Swear, I can take it, Az.” Desperate whines and choppy breaths coupled with deep grunts and a husky swear at the sound of your plea. “Just a little harder.”
Rhys knew it shouldn’t have affected him the way it did. The blood that rushed between his legs at the sound of Azriel complying, doing everything you’d asked for and more. Neither of you even notice him, shadows too distracted in squeezing at heaving breasts and gliding up the length of your neck. A soothing cool to combat the overwhelming heat that Azriel had spent hours trying to quench.
It would work for a little while before the need grew again, demanding more tongue and teeth biting into your shoulders. Blazing for the harsh grip of Azriel’s hands on your hips as his cock nudged in as far as your body allowed. “Rhys will be here soon,” He’d mutter into the shell of your ear when you’d clench around him, hips stuttering and tears streaming down your cheeks from the sensitivity of yet another orgasm.
And yet, still your body commanded more.
“It won’t stop,” Sweat beads at your hairline, hair tangled and lips swollen as your body holds onto Azriel like a lifeline. Filthy sounds squelch between where you begin and he ends, arousal dripping like a leaky faucet. “Why won’t it stop?”
“Rhys,” Azriel sighs in relief when the High Lord comes into view, exhaustion evident in tousled inky hair and droopy lids but he’s too lost in the feeling to stop. The spymasters wings are splayed out behind him as your hands wander freely along the leathery texture, hips rocking and tongue dragging along the side of his neck. “You’re here.”
Rhysand nods once, easing you off and into his arms. You find instant relief with his touch, face buried in his neck as he guides you into the bathroom. The water in the tub had long since ran cold and yet it’s perfectly warm when he rests you inside. “Took you long enough,” You whisper weakly, voice raspy from overuse. “I nearly broke him.”
His jaw clenched, unreasonable jealously tickling at the edge of his mind at the sight of Azriel’s marks on you. “I can see that,” Rhys pushes damp hair from your face, cupping at flushed cheeks to stare into your eyes. At the bright specks the shade of lavender dotting the iris, a stark contrast from pupils blown with lust. “Amren said it sounds like you were drugged with a strong mix of herbs; mostly meant to disorient but a natural side-affect is debilitating arousal.”
“She say how long it’ll last?”
Rhys grimaces slightly, hesitating before answering. “Depending on how much you ingested? Roughly a few hours, possibly less.”
Your heart plummets. So much time had already passed. How much more could you possibly endure?
More. More. More.
Every bone in your body screams as you watch the High Lord undress, exposing sun-kissed skin and mouth-watering tattoos. The water trickles when your thighs shift, searching for friction as a fresh wave of need rises. “In that case,” Your hand trails down beneath the water, hyperaware of the violet stare tracking every move. “I hope you brought your stamina.”
He’s quick to join you in the tub—even quicker when he tugs you on top of him, pressing claiming kisses to your mouth and he slides in with ease, hushed curses falling from full lips from the near unbearable heat of your cunt. “It’s not my stamina you should be worried about,” Rhysand’s deliberate in the way he slowly lifts you off him, watching more of his length come into view until only the fat tip of his cock is inside. “I’ll spend all night fucking the smell of him off you if I must.”
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peachysunrize · 2 months ago
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[ TANGERINE DREAMS ]
Summary: being stood up on his wedding day, Aemond’s life takes a turn for the worse. Heartbroken and humiliated, he finds unexpected help in Helaena’s childhood friend, who helps him move back into his family mansion. Summer cocktail parties and a long stay at the Targaryen residency, Aemond might let the girl who’s always been in his life make a home in his heart.
Tangerines, in general, symbolize prosperity, good luck and happiness. So if these delicious fruits appear in your dreams - whole or in the form of juice - it is usually very positive. A dream with tangerines expresses the desire and the possibility of progress and prosperity
Warnings: 18+ mdni! Smut, angst, fluff and tension! English isn’t my first language<3
Word count: 6.5k+
Taglist: if you want to be tagged in the future chapters, please fill this form with your @/usrname!
A/n: sorry for the delay, BUT I THINK YOU WILL LIKE THIS ONE!!! Comments and reblogs are reallly appreciated🥺💕
-> series masterlist <-
Chapter 5: kissing his heart
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A mess.
That’s how you feel, that’s how Aemond is.
Denial.
You deny the existence of your feelings towards Aemond and he denies the truth that you still believe he is in love with Alys. Because he is not, he might think about her from time to time but he isn’t in love with her anymore.
Aemond is up early again — early after a rough night of drinks and thinking nonstop means somewhere around noon — which is still earlier than when the entirety of the household wakes up.
He stretches his legs, groaning as the muscles clench and unclench, his limbs tingling with exhaustion from the lack of sleep. Aemond sits up on his bed, running a hand over his face and thinking about how much he needs to discuss with you later today, or anytime you allow him.
He stands up, grabbing his hair tie before he walks towards his bathroom, pulling his hair up into a man bun as he pushes the door open to get ready for the day. After taking his prosthetic eye out, he cleans the empty socket with gauze and the medicine he’s prescribed, untying his hair and hopping under the shower. 
He stands under the running water fully naked, and the image of your blown-out pupils and swollen lips makes it hard for him to contain himself, but soon, that image is replaced with the memory of your teary face, and how broken you sounded — he wanted to run after you last night, he wanted to explain, shout and tell you he isn’t in love with Alys anymore.
He leans his head back, and the warm water hits his face and drips down his Adam's apple, trickling down his throat on his chest. He feels each droplet of water on his skin, and thinks about his actions; was he leading you on unwillingly? No, he is awfully smitten with you, so bad that when he thinks of your smile the heat spreads from his chest to his cheeks, leaving him all red and blushing.
His pain is fresh, the gaping wound is still bleeding. Being stood up on your wedding day is not something you can forget so easily. He still feels the agony he did on that day, but not that intensely, and certainly not how lovesick he felt about Alys. 
He will always think about her, more so about how she left him than the good memories they made together, but to say he is in love… has he ever felt what real love feels like? Was it how Alys’ responses to his actions made him nervous? How much he felt he needed to prove to her that he was good enough? Was it just that? The fear?
He doubts it Because thinking about you is enough to calm his nerves, and he doesn’t need to worry about whether he is enough or not. All he needs to do is to come clean and reassure and reaffirm his feelings and commitments to you.
Love is a strong word to use when it comes to these early stages of your relationship, but he likes you, a lot.
After the long shower he takes, he wraps the towel around his waist while he dries his hair with another one. He grabs his fresh and clean clothes and drops them on his bed, loosening the towel that sets low on his hip bones so he can put his boxers on, the other towel hanging from one of his shoulders while he puts on his sweatpants.
“Aegon!”
Aemond hears his mother’s screams, rushing out with haste after he puts his eyepatch on in a hurry. When he opens the door he sees his mother pacing around with Cole trying his best to calm her down but it’s all in vain.
“What’s going on?” He hears you say, and when he turns around, he finds you walking out of your room to the highway. Was your room always next to his? How is he just finding this out?
He so shamelessly eyes you; your night shorts cling to your thighs so deliciously, and your top sticks to your chest in a way that has Aemond swallowing harshly before he is forced to avert his eye. But he catches you doing the same, finding you drinking in the sight of his exposed chest and wet droplets that fall from the end of his hair on his abs.
You both look away, clearly flustered and shy from the moment of silent flirting in a room full of people. 
“I can’t find Aegon!” Alicent strokes her neck, her nails scratching the soft skin while she walks frantically around, “I searched the entire house for him! He is nowhere!”
“Daeron might know—“
“Daeron… where is Daeron?” She turns around suddenly, her big brown eyes filled with panic as she looks at Criston and in an instant, he reaches to hold her arms gently.
“We’ll find them, now breathe, please…”
“No, what if Aegon has done something again and now they’re not okay?” 
“Mother,” Aemond nods at Cole before he reaches to grab her elbows, looking into her eyes, “I will find them both, alright? Don’t worry, Cole and I will bring them before you know it.”
“Please go find them, Aemond. Your brothers lack self-control and they make my blood pressure go high—“ 
Aemond chuckles and nods, “Take the girls down, we’ll find them and join you, yeah? Don’t be too hard on yourself, Mum, you’re doing fine.”
“Yes, okay, alright…” she reaches to bring him to her height, pressing a gentle kiss on his forehead before she looks at you and tells you to get ready for the day.
“Yes, Ma’am!” You smile at her, waiting for both Cole and Alicent to go, leaving you and Aemond alone in the hallway.
“I missed your eyepatch,” you say quietly, a small yet awkward smile on your lips as you try to break the tension.
“Temporary,” he says, clearing his throat as he watches your smile falter because of his short answer, and he mentally face palms himself for not doing his best in showing his interest clearly, “I— wait!”
You quickly walk into your room, and he groans in annoyance as you slam the door shut, not allowing him to say even a word. With a loud sigh, he goes into his room as well, grabbing an oversized T-shirt to put on before he leaves and goes to find Aegon and Daeron.
Aemond makes his way to the guest wing, the entire house is covered in empty cups and crumbs of food, and more importantly, he finds Daeron dropped on top of Aegon, both snoring loudly and drooling while they sleep.
“Why am I not surprised?” He asks, pinching the bridge of his nose as he stares down at his brothers, “wake up,” he yells, but they don’t budge, sleeping soundly.
“Aegon, wake the fuck up,” he grabs the closest cup that is filled with water and splashes it on Aegon’s face, causing the older brother to sit up abruptly, gasping as he knocks the youngest off of him. 
“What is your fucking problem?” Daeron asks in a raspy voice, coughing a bit as he realizes how much his throat might be hurting with all the screaming from last night.
“My problem is that Mum has been searching for you fuckfaces since she’s woken up. You better get up and show up for breakfast so she doesn’t freak out any more than she already has.”
“You’re her favorite, tell her—“
“As if,” Aemond scoffs at Daeron as he strides toward his brothers and grabs them by their necks to pull them up, “come on, let’s go. And…it’s not me. Helaena is her favorite.”
“He’s right—urgh, don’t pinch me!” Aegon whines when Aemond pinches behind his ear, “Was she mad?”
“No, just ready to give you one of her most heartwarming smiles,” Aemond pushes them both out of the guest wing, smirking when they both stumble and groan.
“She’s going to murder us in cold blood then,” Daeron fakes a cry, knowing how Alicent gets when she’s nervous — deadly, that’s how she gets, and for some sick and twisted reason, Aegon and Daeron love to toy with that side of her.
“Good morning, ladies!” Aegon announces as they step inside the kitchen, watching how Alicent smiles and cocks her head to the side, eyeing the two Targaryen boys.
“Not sure if it was a good one for you,” Aemond’s head turns in the direction of your sound, finding you leaning on the counter with two cups of coffee in hand, wearing a floral dress Helaena had gifted you when you went on your shopping dates a few weeks ago.
He watches as you hide your eyes from him before walking towards him, giving him a tight-lipped smile and handing him his coffee, slowly meeting his gaze when he reaches to grab the cup handle, his fingers brushing over yours a bit, sending jolts of joy through his body.
“Don’t be mean to my brother!” Helaena says as she jogs into the kitchen, her white hair flowing around her shoulders, but stops abruptly and looks around the room, narrowing her eyes at Aemond, “Did you not have a good sleep?”
“Noooo, princess, this douchebag—“
“Not you, him…” Helaena cuts Aegon off but she smiles at him and lets him pull her closer for a hug, pressing his cheek to hers as they both — and everyone in the room — stare at Aemond.
“What?”
“You look like you’ve broken up with your girlfriend,” she says, her eyes following as you take a step away from Aemond and look down at your feet, clearly flustered.
“I don’t have a girlfriend,” he wants though, he desperately wants to have you as his girlfriend, “and you’re right, I didn’t sleep well because I had a headache.”
“A headache wouldn’t make your eye swollen,” Helaena shrugs and with a kiss on Aegon’s cheek, she approaches you, standing in front of you as she stares at you in a not-so-calming way, “You too… you look like you’ve been… crying yourself to sleep.”
“Can you stop being creepy for a minute and let us drink our coffee in peace?” You ask, glancing at Aemond who looks away immediately after he catches your gaze, looking down at his coffee cup while you try to distract Helaena from the awkwardness and undeniable tension between you and her brother.
“I’m not being creepy!” 
“Then what do you call it?” Daeron asks, resting his chin on the back of his hands as he looks at Hel, “because it’s fucking creepy when you just say these things out of nowhere.”
���It’s called intuition! I’m not trying to scare anyone, I just… I feel it in my bones that something is wrong with these two—“
Suddenly she looks at you, her amethyst eyes wide and blown with the realization. She clears her throat when her eyes fall on Aemond’s flushed cheeks and your slack jaw.
“I’m gonna make myself some tea…” she whispers, giving you a very quick nudge, “we’ll talk later.”
“Yeah, later,” you nod hesitantly, biting the inside of your cheek as you follow her movements, stealing glances at Aemond who is doing the same, making the room’s atmosphere more tense than it already is.
“What’s today’s plan?” Daeron looks around, waiting for someone to answer.
“I say we should head to the storage to bring out more beers—“
“Over my dead body,” and you all turn to Alicent who’s been watching all of these interactions silently, sipping on her hot tea, “today, you two—“ she points at Daeron and Aegon, “will clean the guest wing. I want it spotless.”
“That’s torture! Mum—“
“And Aemond will keep an eye on you.”
“What?” It’s Aemond’s turn to ask, his good eye widens in surprise, “I’m not their babysitter, I have a lot of stuff to take care of.”
“No, not today,” she says, “and you girls… you can do whatever you want, you’ve been good.”
“Awe, thank you so much, Mummy,” Hel blows Alicent a kiss, walking back towards you to loop her arm around yours, “c’mon. Let’s go to my room.”
“Told ya she’s her favorite—ah! For fuck sake can this family stop smacking my head?” Aegon whines again but ultimately melts under the kiss Alicent presses on the crown of his head, “Alright, I’m convinced.”
“Spotless,” she points at Daeron and then Aemond before walking out of the kitchen.
“Where are you two going?” Aegon asks and looks at you and Hel.
“Girl talk, no assholes included,” Helaena pulls you after her, giggling a bit as you pass Aemond and Aegon.
“Girl talk without me? You know my tits are nicer than hers, right?” 
“That’s not gonna work on her, you perv!” Helaena turns around and glares at Aegon, “Only dumb girls around you would give in and show you their tits.”
“They actually try to prove you wrong?” Aemond scoffs, and you snort at his tone, his eye locking with yours when you laugh at what he said, and in return, he gives you a small and heartwarming smile.
“You fucking genius—“ Hel pulls you out of the kitchen, not letting you listen to the rest of the conversation.
“Get inside, shoo shoo, go!” She pushes you slightly inside, “You better talk, babe. Cause I’ll be pulling words out of your mouth like a vacuum.”
“I think I like your brother,” you blurt the words out, slapping your palm on your mouth as soon as you realize what you just said, “shit, ignore that—“
“I knew it!” She squeals, putting her cup of tea down on the closest table she can reach, “see? I wasn't being creepy! I knew something was up, I knew it!”
“Really, Helaena?” You scoff but chuckle at her enthusiasm, “I just told you I think I like your brother and you say you ‘knew it’? What exactly do you know thanks to your so-called intuition?”
“Not much, but I know Aemond is not someone who cries a lot unless he is in horrible pain. Now you tell me what happened last night, please.”
“I fucked up,” you shrug, hands joining to show how stressed and on edge you are, “that’s what I did. I fucked up our friendship, I fucked up this whole thing between us. I just… I messed it up so fucking bad, Hel.”
“Oh, baby, come here,” as soon as she opens her arms, you throw yourself between them and let her lead you to bed, holding you close as you make yourself comfortable on the pillows, “You did not mess up anything. Aemond is a tough person to read, sometimes you can’t get through his walls.”
“But… that’s the thing… I read him, and-and I told him that he still loved Alys—“
“What? When did you say that?” She asks, squeezing your arms, “Details, babe, give me all of it.”
“I was in his workshop, I know I shouldn’t have but I was pretty tipsy! So… he found me there, one thing leads to another… and…”
“And…?” she urges you on, holding her breath in as she waits for you to talk.
“And we kissed—”
“You kissed my brother?” she asks, pushing you out of her arms a bit while looking at you with her huge confused, and awfully bright eyes, “and you told him he loved Alys?”
“Babe, I’m so fucking sorry, I know I overstepped, I should have never ever kissed—”
“Hey, hey, no, come here,” she brings you back in her arms quickly, shushing your sobs as best as she can, “I didn’t mean it like that! You didn’t overstep, babe! It’s just… Aemond isn’t a person who would go around and kiss women left and right! So if he has kissed you…then he is pretty serious about you.”
“I just—don’t wanna be his rebound because he is hurt his fiance left him! I…want more than just being a quick fuck for him.”
“First of all, we ain’t gonna talk about my brother’s sex life,” you snort and she laughs, threading her soft fingers through your hair, “Secondly, I don’t think he believes you are just a hookup to him. He holds grudges quite well, he may forgive but doesn’t forget. So, my point is, he is no longer in love with Alys, and probably holds a deep gut-wrenching hatred for her, but she was also his first love, his… first everything.”
“You’re saying that his feelings are gone?” you ask, your voice smaller than before, “because…what we have is so different from any relationships I’ve ever had! It’s a mutual understanding, a friendship I cherish a lot.”
“I don’t know about his feelings, but I can feel and see that he no longer holds romantic love for her. Alys was the reason Aemond moved out, she persuaded him to become independent stand up on his own feet, and not be like Aegon. But I’m just an observer, I see it from outside, and I can feel it.”
“Your intuition telling you there is nothing to worry about?” you ask her hopefully, wiping the remaining tears off your cheeks before you hold her hand in yours and sit side by side with her.
“Yup, but you two need to have a long talk. Let him say his piece, or else I fear he’ll go crazy,” she squeezes your hand before jumping off the bed, “Turn on the TV, babe. I’m going to go grab some snacks so we can watch a bunch of sad rom-coms and cry.”
Hel walks out of the room, humming to herself as she makes her way to the kitchen. As soon as she steps inside, she finds Aemond leaning on the counter with his face between his hands.
“Hey…”
“Hey, Helaena,” he gives her a small smile, “What are you doing here?”
“Grabbing something to eat and knock some sense in you,” she explains, crossing her arms over her chest, “why do you make things difficult for yourself?”
“Because it’s better to be ready than not even think about the outcome,” he shrugs and gives her a confused look, “what are you even saying?”
“I’m saying that you don’t need to be so hard on yourself! The answer is right in front of you,” she says, pulling out a bag of chips but Aemond’s voice stops her.
“Let’s say… I like someone,” he starts, glancing at Helaena who turns around with a soft expression on her face, “and… fresh out of this mess, I am serious about whatever is going between us.”
“But…?” “But I’m not good at voicing my feelings, and I’m afraid I’ve screwed my chance already,” Aemond sighs, biting his lip in frustration, “I…I want to be with her, but I’m terrified that I can’t show her how much I appreciate her.”
“All she needs is some reassurance that you are no longer in love with Alys,” she walks to him, rubbing his back lovingly. “Talk to her, drive out of here, and take her somewhere beautiful and romantic. Make her feel special because I’m sure she is special to you.”
“Thanks—” “Don’t hurt her, Aemond, and don’t let her hurt you either.”
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A day or two passes by, and finally after gathering his courage, he asks if you’d like to go to the nearby beach. Helaena agrees on your behalf immediately, dragging you upstairs to get you ready before the sunset so you can arrive there just on time.
Aemond, in all of his glory with his loose gray dress pants and his olive-colored shirt — first two buttons were undone — looks nothing compared to your beauty when you walk downstairs.
Aemond takes off his sunglasses, swallowing harshly as he takes you in; you’re wearing a white maxi skirt with a blue crop top and Helaena’s heart-shaped sunglasses — which he’s sure Hel forced you to wear. You look ethereal, with sunlight shining on your hair and a shy smile on your face when you notice how he’s staring at you with his jaw on the floor.
“Oh,” he clears his throat when you push the heart-shaped glasses on your head, rocking on the balls of your feet with your hands behind your back, “you look…wow.”
“Thank you,” you say, clearly flustered and smiling, “you don’t look too bad yourself, Little nerd.”
“Thanks, come on, I… I wanna take you somewhere,” he rubs the back of his neck, looking at you a bit hesitant, “Of course if you want to—“
“I agreed to come, Aemond, of course, I would want to. Lead the way please,” you wait for him to take you to his car, but unlike the Chevy Camaro you rode from his house to here, he leads you to a silver BMW 507 that you have never seen before.
“This is gorgeous,” you say in awe as you skim your hand over the hood of his car, “I had no idea you owned such a babe.”
“My uncle bought this for me,” he says, following you as you make your way to the passenger seat, opening the door before he holds your hand and helps you in the car.
“Daemon? Really?”
“Oh no,” he shakes his head, “Uncle Gwayne, Mum’s older brother.”
“I’ve never met him, but this is such a gorgeous gift,” you watch as he rounds the car and gets in the driver’s seat, turning the car on before his hands grip the steering wheel and he backs out of the parking, opening the gates with a remote.
You close your eyes and let the wind blow through your hair, and Aemond glances at you, a ghost of a small on his face while he keeps looking between you and the road.
He sighs, the beach and the wharf coming into his view and he mentally pulls himself together and takes a few deep breaths to collect his thoughts and get ready to talk to you. He parks his car and helps you out of the car with your hand in his.
He doesn’t step back when you stand in front of him, his face inches away from yours while your body is caged between his body and the car. He can feel your chest moving with each breath you take — which is now more than normal and he is near losing his mind.
“Come,” he lets go of your hand and shoves them in his pockets, his hair framing his face and shoulders as he watches you walk side by side with him.
“This is so beautiful, Aemond, thank you,” you give him a reassuring smile as if you notice how stressed he is.
“Nothing is as beautiful as you…” he whispers, watching as you look away from him immediately, pressing your lips together to stop yourself from grinning while he curses himself under his breath, thinking how much of an idiot he is for saying this.
“Yeah…” you fiddle with your fingers, “did you enjoy the party?”
“I did,” he confirms, his eye locking with yours as you reach the beach, walking on the soft sand, “I enjoyed it a lot.”
The way he looks at you is enough to set your heart ablaze. His stare is heated, and he knows for sure you’re aware of what he is thinking about.
The kiss that left both of you breathless.
The kiss that had your hearts beating in sync.
The kiss that left you with teary eyes.
The kiss.
That is all the two of you were able to think about.
“So…” you start, kicking the soft sand with your sandals, “you said you wanna talk about something…”
“Yes, urm…” he takes a deep breath, “I want to explain something, and…and I hope that we can work on…”
“Us,” you finish his sentence, nodding in understanding, “we will work on us.”
“When you said that I love Alys, at first I thought you were being impulsive, that…” he inhales sharply, “that you wanted an out because… because our kiss was a mistake.”
“You think it was a mistake?” You ask suddenly, stopping and grabbing Aemond’s forearm, “What do you mean it was a mistake?”
“No!” he replies, shaking his head as his eyes widen in terror that somehow he messed up again, “No, no, darling, not at all! I meant that… I thought when you said I love Alys was because you realized that our kiss was a mistake and you regretted it! I thought it was the best kiss I’ve ever had…”
With the last part, he takes your hands in his, and brings them up to his lips, and kisses your knuckles a few times, smiling softly at you.
“Really?” “Really,” his flushed cheeks match your flustered expression, “When you said those words… I thought about it a lot, and…and you’re right,” your smile falls but he is faster and pulls you closer, bringing your fists to his chest as he kisses your forehead, “I love her, but not because I think about her romantically. I love her for making me realize what I’ve been missing out. Five years of misery and never have I ever felt such strong emotions toward her that I do for you. I love her in a way that I’m thankful for those experiences she and I went through because all of those moments led me to you.”
“Aemond…” you flatten your hands on his chest, feeling the rapid beat of his heart.
“I think about her because the wound is still fresh because sometimes I’m reminded of the way she made me feel on my wedding day, I think about the moments I thought I was in love but in reality…I just wanted not to be left alone. And now… It’s not like that with you,” he rests his forehead on yours, both of you closing your eyes to let yourselves be consumed in the moment, “I’m not in love with her, there is only one place in my heart and that belongs to you.”
“I’m so sorry, little nerd, I—” “Shh,” one of his hands cups your cheek, and he leans down to brush his nose against yours, “I’m sorry for not showing how much you mean to me, I do better, I promise.”
“Kiss me,” you say, breathless and teary as you crane your neck, your breaths mingling together as you whisper again, “Kiss me, Aemond.”
“With pleasure.”
His lips meet yours in a slow yet passionate kiss, and once again, your taste makes him dizzy with need. This time the desire is stronger, and he can feel your desperation too with how you lick his bottom lip and wrap your arms around his neck to pull him even closer.
You whimper when he bites your lower lip, pushing his tongue inside your mouth as soon as you part your lips and give him access. He sighs into your mouth as he kisses your breath away, angling his head to taste you better and breathe in your scent more.
“Show me,” you break the kiss, pecking his cheek as you whisper in his ear, “I need to feel you, please, show me.”
“Come with me,” he kisses the tip of your nose before he laces his fingers through yours.
“Where are you taking me, sir?” You ask with a sultry voice, “Hopefully not to your car because I would hate to drive back and have your family catch us.”
“Absolutely not, my darling,” he pulls you with him, watching as the sunset’s pink hues fall on your face, creating a soft halo around your face and he suddenly pulls you in for a kiss, surprising you. You kiss him back with a chuckle, smiling against his lips as he keeps pecking your face.
“What was that for?”
“You looked so beautiful, I couldn’t resist,” he says, helping you up on the stairs of the wharf, leading you towards a yacht you’ve never seen before.
“If you think you can woo me with your money, Aemond Targaryen, you are so right!” You look at the huge yacht, finding a captain standing and waiting for you.
“Well then I’ve brought you to the best place,” he shakes the captain’s hand, “We won’t be needing your services today, sir, thank you.”
He helps you on the yacht, joining you quickly so he can show you around but you stop him, pulling him downstairs towards the few doors you spotted earlier.
“We’ll see the rest of the yacht later, take me to the bedroom right now,” you bite your lip when he smirks at you and pulls you towards a door, pushing it open before he enters the room.
“What do you wanna do now?” He asks, keeping his eyes on you as you make your way to the bed, sitting on the edge of it.
“I want you to show me how much I mean to you.”
“And how do you want me to do that?” He asks, resting his hands on the bed next to your thighs, leaning down so his face is only mere inches away from you.
“You can start with getting on your knees,” you push him down with your hands on his shoulders, giggling softly when he raises his not-damaged eyebrow at you, “don’t keep me waiting.”
“I wouldn’t dream of it,” he says, taking his sunglasses off his head and dropping it on the floor, grabbing your ankles to slowly pull off your sandals, kissing his way up under your skirt.
He mouths at the flesh of your thighs; kissing, nibbling, and sucking as he draws an invisible path towards your clothed pussy, his head swimming with lust as he gets to be so close to you, closer he has ever dared to imagine.
He gives a quick kiss to the wet spot on your panties, hooking his fingers in the hem of the fabric before he pulls it down, humming as he exposes your heat to the chill air of the room. Aemond kisses your mound, trailing the soft pecks down to your buzzing clit, and as soon as his lips press against the nerves you arch your back.
The sigh you let out is enough encouragement for him to keep going, and he does — he presses open-mouthed kisses on your cunt, sucking and licking in a way that has your mind melting beneath his touch.
“I need to see you,” you tell him, wiggling a bit to push your skirt down. Aemond, more eager than you, detaches himself from you and pulls your skirt off roughly, grabbing your thighs tightly before he dives in, more starved than before.
He wants to go rough, taking and feasting on you like a dog in heat, but not now. He promises to give you an orgasm that makes you feel fuzzy and warm all over. You will have enough time to make memories later…
He laps lazily at your folds, his nails digging into your hips as he runs the tip of his tongue over the bundle of nerves, picking up his pace.
You fist the sheets with one hand while the other goes to his soft hair, pushing your fingers through the silky silver strands as he fastens his movements, his tongue drawing wordless apologies on your wet pussy lips, poking your entrance from time to time — his pace is dizzying, and you crave more and more of his attention to be on you, to show his care for you.
And who is he to deny such a sweet request?
He brings one of his hands down when you whimper ‘more’ and gives him the go. His thumb rubs slow languid circles on your clit, making you close your thighs around his head, back arching off the bed.
Aemond lets his finger gently caress your dripping hole, pushing the digit in slowly, before he starts thrusting it in and out, curving it a little so he brings you closer and closer to your high. While he adds another finger, he attaches his lips upward, sucking on your nerves quite harshly, leaving you a hot mess as you moan and chant his name while he feasts upon you.
“Fuck, Aemond, more— I need more!”
He smiles against you, his nose buried between your thighs as he starts fucking you harshly with his long and thick fingers, curving them enough to nudge the sweet spot inside you with each thrust.
With each filthy sound that echoes in the room, you gasp and cry out for more, a relief only he can give you, and he will give it to you gladly — he keeps his lips locked to your cunt while his fingers prod and scissor you open for him, making you ready to take him.
“Ae-Aemond! I’m close— so-so close!”
“Mhmm, go on, darling, come on my face, I want it, I need it,” he mumbles against your pussy, keeping his fingers knuckles deep inside you while his other hand comes to rub quick little circles on your clit, “Give it to me, beautiful, do it now.”
And you do; you come with a shuddering gasp and a loud broken moan that makes Aemond nearly lose his sanity and empty his balls in his pants like a virgin teenage boy.
He keeps thrusting his fingers inside you slowly as he crawls on top of you, kissing you a bit with your arousal glistening on his chin, helping you ride your euphoric orgasm.
“Are you alright? Do you need a minute?” He asks, pulling his fingers out gently as he gazes down at you, “We can stop right here.”
“I think I will die if I don’t get to have you now.”
“That’s quite the exaggeration, is it not?” He kisses you, waiting for your breathing to calm down a bit, “Don’t worry, beautiful, I’m no better than you. I will probably die if I don’t get to be inside you in a minute.”
“Then take off these clothes and get on the bed!” You whine, pulling on his clothes and he takes them off without any further hesitation, dropping them on the floor next to your skirt, breathing in sharply when he looks down to see you shedding your top and lying down beneath him stark naked.
“You’re so fucking gorgeous,” he mutters and bends down to kiss you and help you lay upper on the pillows with him making a home between your thighs.
“Have you seen yourself?” You smile at him, reaching between your bodies for his now painfully hard cock, squeezing him a little before stroking him a few times, “I will sue you if you ever wear clothes around me from now on.”
“I could say the same about you,” he leans down, holding himself up by his forearms next to your head, “Clean?”
“Yeah…” you reply shakily, guiding the red tip of his cock to your entrance, holding your breath in as he pushes in slowly. You gasp, hands flying up to his waist, digging your nails in as he stretches you out and sheaths himself inside you.
“Fucking hell—“
“I won’t last long,” he sighs, leaning down to hide his face in your neck, his hips pressed tightly against yours as he lets you both adjust — and give himself a minute to compose himself, or else he would lose himself in your warmth.
“I-I won’t either,” you whine and buck your hips, signaling him to move, “just… please!”
He nods shakily, pulling his hips back a little before thrusting in slowly, testing the waters before he sets his pace, watching how your face morphs into pleasure. 
Aemond fastens his pace, hips snapping against yours eagerly, the sound of skin slapping against each other fills the room while you both groan and moan in ecstasy.
“Fuck,” he groans into your ear, hand reaching to thread his fingers with yours and you compile, turning your head to look at him as he closes his eye and whimpers your name.
“Open your eyes,” you say gently in a tone laced with pleasure, “I wanna watch how you look when you come for me.”
His eye shots open the moment he hears you, both of your bodies shaking as you tighten around him, signing you’re close. He is right behind you, his cock twitching deep inside you as he hits your spot at a fast pace, abandoning his morals as he fucks you harder, letting go of your hand to reach for your face, staring deep into your eyes while you come undone for him.
He takes note of how your lips fall apart, your eyebrows twist in a frown and your body twitches when your orgasm washes over you.
“Come for me, Aemond.” With your words, he pulls out and strokes himself, painting your stomach with his cum, his hand shaking as he groans from deep inside his throat.
“Holy fuck,” he says as he drops next to you on his side, his red cheek and chest on display, body heaving with rapid breaths, “you okay?”
“More than okay,” you turn your head to look at him, scooting closer to him to brush the few strands of hair that have fallen out of his tie off his beautiful face, “factory reset time?”
“Insatiable beast,” he groans and rolls on top of you, biting your earlobe and your squeal only spurring him on, “Give me ten minutes and I can go again.”
“Good, you won’t get much sleep tonight.”
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Aemond wakes up by feeling a pair of soft lips on his neck and collarbones, and for the first time in a long time, he wakes with a smile on his face.
“Hmm, morning,” he says, tightening his arms around your back as you keep pressing kisses on his chest, “What are you doing?”
“I’m kissing your heart,” you pout at him, the gleam in your eyes not matching the innocent tone you have.
“What?”
“That was so fucking cheesy, I’m sorry,” you laugh, dropping your head on his shoulders, wrapping your arm around him as he joins you, his chest moving up and down with each laughter.
“Well, I cannot say I didn’t like it,” he shrugs, kissing the crown of your head, “you should be more cheesy.”
“Don’t get your hopes too high, mister,” you cup his cheek, caressing his scarred cheek slowly, “No promises, but I will make your life much harder.”
“I’m looking forward to it—“ his phone rings and suddenly, the invisible bubble of your secret bursts. He sighs and gives you an apologetic smile but you kiss it away and crawl towards the end of the bed to reach and grab his phone, “Who is it?”
“Alicent,” you lay back on his chest when he answers the phone.
“Morning, Mum,” he starts, “Yeah, yeah, don’t worry. We’re fine, please don’t panic, alright? I showed her The Queen in Chains, and we stayed the night here… yes, Mum, we’ll get ready and come back before noon.”
“We should head back home, right?”
“Not now,” he turns off his phone and turns to you, “I wanna stay here more, I don’t think I have looked at you enough.”
“Cheesy,” you poke his chest before kissing the spot, melting in his arms as he caresses your naked back, “What am I going to do with you, sweet talker?”
“Unfortunately, you are stuck with me.”
497 notes · View notes
prythianpages · 8 months ago
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In My Eyes | Azriel
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Azriel x Rhysand's Sister | Summary: Azriel has lost you once and when unseen circumstances bring you back to life, he will not lose you again. Even if it means going against his family.
warnings: mentions of death (descriptive and a bit gruesome)/loss, angst 💔
a/n: I wanted to take a little break from all the fluff I've been writing so here's a little angst. I listened to Jacob's prayer from the Minari soundtrack a lot along with Thom Yorke's Hearing Damage while writing this. Hence the title bc I couldn't think of anything else lol and also because I feel like Az would be so down for his mate, she really could do no wrong in his eyes.
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A haunting stillness permeates the air, broken only by the occasional whisper of Azriel’s shadows. He doesn’t know why he’s here. He wants to turn and leave but his legs betray his mind, prompting him to go forward. Cracked cobblestone paths lead him to the castle’s doors and as Azriel pushes the door open, it releases a loud groaning noise.
Inside Hybern’s castle, broken furniture lies scattered and the once opulent halls now echo with the sound of dripping water. His shadows stir uneasily. A sudden gust of wind brushes past him, carrying a pleading whisper along with it.
“Help me.”
Goosebumps rise on Azriel's skin as his shadows freeze in place. There was something familiar about that haunting plea that sent shivers down his spine.
“Azriel.”
"y/n," he breathes, the mere utterance causing his shadows to stir into a desperate frenzy. His steps quicken, evolving into a full-blown run, his heart pounding in sync with the frantic pace of his movements.
"y/n!" he calls out again, this time louder. His eyes, stinging with tears, frantically scanning the endless expanse of the haunted halls for any trace of you.
"Azriel, help me!"
Azriel runs and runs, but the hall stretches infinitely before him.
“Help! I’m al–”
And then, with a jolt, Azriel wakes. 
Cold sweat clings to him like a second skin as the tendrils of the dream slowly release their grip on his consciousness. Your voice–it felt so real. But he knows it’s a dream because when he turns his head, the spot beside him is empty. 
As it has been for centuries. 
Azriel allows his heavy eyelids to flutter shut once more as he catches his breath. This was just another nightmare, he tells himself. It does nothing to soothe him. The more he thinks about it, the more unease grips him. Even his shadows are shaky, trembling as they brush against him. 
For centuries, his dreams have been plagued by nightmares. It had always been the same one. The one that made him relive the moment he found out you were dead. Azriel had been the one to find the box that carried your mother’s severed head down Windhaven’s river and when he had spotted another box, all he found was a severed finger. A severed finger wearing a ring he was all too familiar with because he had been the one to place it on your finger.
Azriel remembers the way his heart had dropped to his stomach. He remembers the way he had desperately tugged on the bond only to find nothing but an eerie quietness on your end. He knew at that moment you were gone and you weren’t coming back.
The scream that tore through his throat was as violent as the gaping black hole crushing through his chest. It curdled the blood of anyone within earshot and had the surrounding birds jolting from their perches, their feathers rustling in a panicked flutter. Not even his shadows, who had carried him through his darkest times, could console him.
Azriel had no body to mourn. No hand to hold on to. No face to caress for the last time. He could only hope that your death had been quick and painless.
But this nightmare was new. Different. You were alive in this one. Or sounded like it.
Azriel opens his eyes and he brings himself to sit up in bed. His hands, weary and scarred, rub at his face in exhaustion, brushing away the lingering tears that sting at his eyes. He then looks down at his hands, aching to feel your warmth once more. Even if only in a dream.
The glimmering ring on Azriel's left hand sparkles under the tender caress of moonlight, drawing his attention. His trembling fingers trace the contours of the band. He can’t help but turn and twist it, yearning for a complete view of the engraved letters. It spells out your name and the ache of grief intensifies with every twist. He hasn’t taken the ring off since the day he married you, even after death did you part.
It compliments the smaller, daintier ring wrapped around his neck that hangs on a thin silver chain. Your ring. His name is engraved on it just as yours is on his. The only difference is that yours cradles a captivating cobalt blue gem.  A precious fragment, crafted from his own siphon and meticulously refined by himself. He wanted you to carry a part of him wherever you went.
Now, he is left to carry it. The only piece he has left of you.
A poignant reminder that though death may have claimed you, the essence of your union lingers on. He can’t imagine loving anyone else. He doesn’t want to love anyone else. For him, it was you and only you. He could only thank the Mother for allowing him the time he had with you but also curse her for taking you from him.
His hand closes around your ring, grappling with the disorienting emotions coursing through him. Despite the centuries that have separated you, an instinctual yearning tugs at Azriel's core. He reaches out for the intangible thread that once connected you. He knows he’ll only receive the familiar void. It had been this way for ages. He’d wake from his nightmare, reach out with false hope and receive nothing in return.
Yet, this time, just like the nightmare he woke from, is different.
The shadows that hover over Azriel's shoulders, murmuring their soothing lullabies, suddenly cease in their dance. His eyes widen, capturing a glimmer of something long forgotten. Hope. It stirs within him, a dormant ember flickering to life after centuries of darkness.
For a fleeting moment, there's a response. A fragile shimmer through the bond. So delicate that it's almost imperceptible. And it’s coming from your side. 
Azriel tugs again, cautiously and slowly. Anxiously and holding his breath. Even his shadows don’t dare to stir. But as he awaits another sign, silence envelops him. There’s no response.
He tugs again, desperately seeking confirmation. And then again and again. His tugs grow harsher, more desperate, each pull an urgent plea for any sign, any trace of you. Yet, the bond remains eerily silent, as if mocking the fragile tendrils of hope that dared to rekindle within him. 
Maybe it was all a figment of his imagination. 
But he swore he heard your voice, swore that tug, as faint as it was, was there. The crushing weight of loss descends once more, and it's as if he's losing you all over again. The echoes of hope vanish, leaving only a hollowing ache. His shadows begin to stir again, anxious to fill that hollowness in fear of the malevolent darkness that threatens to creep back inside and consume him all over again.
“No, no, no,” Azriel cries, his voice breaking into a mere whisper. With tear-streaked eyes, he looks up towards the moon, its ethereal glow filtering through the window on the ceiling.
“Please,” he says, beseeching the celestial body to heed his prayer. 
Yet, the void persists and an overwhelming surge of fear takes hold, tightening its icy grip around him. Because though he thinks of you all the time, he’s beginning to forget the small details. Such as the exact shade of your eye, the radiant sparkle in your eyes as you’d smile at him, the comforting warmth of your laugh, the precise hue of blush that would grace your cheeks every time he told you he loved you.
He doesn’t want to forget. As painful as the memories are now, he wants to anchor himself into every single one of them. To hold onto the exquisite weight of every detail.
"Please," Azriel pleads once more. His body quivers with each sob, hunched over in bed, fingers tightly gripping his chest as if trying to anchor his unraveling soul. The shadows, usually under his control, writhe in a frenzied storm, mirroring the emotions swirling inside him. Some tendrils slither out from beneath the door, seeking out help.
It doesn’t take long for them to reach someone. Rhysand swiftly materializes in the room. "Azriel!" he calls out, a voice cutting through the tumult of emotions that cling to the air like heavy mist. “What’s wrong?”
"I heard her, Rhys," Azriel confesses through tearful sobs, his pain echoing in the shadows. "I felt her."
“What if she’s alive? I–I need to find her.”
Rhysand's heart plummets, a solemn gravity darkening his features. “She’s dead, Az,” he murmurs softly, tone laced with empathy. While Azriel lost his mate, Rhysand had lost his sister. He, too, mourns for you.
Azriel shakes his head in denial. “She needs me.”
Rhysand takes a deep breath, blinking back his own tears. He then turns toward the doorway, meeting Feyre’s wide eyes. She had rushed to the room along with him. "Please, get Cas," he tells her.
**
As Azriel secures his siphons, he stares down at his left wrist, where a lunar emblem is etched onto his tan skin. It had disappeared when you had died but now, it is vivid against his skin once more. He doesn’t know exactly when it had reappeared. He was binding his hands before a training session, weeks ago, when he noticed it. The reappearance of your mating tattoo carries with it the weight of the vows you had spoken to him.
“As long as I’m alive, I will love you with every breath.”
But you weren’t alive. You were still dead. After that night almost a year ago, Azriel had looked for you. Every night and day. For months.  He was driving himself into pure madness, even his shadows had grown restless. There had been no more signs, no more traces of you but he still pushed on and he would’ve continued if Rhysand hadn’t forced him to stop.
“Are you ready?”
Azriel nods at Rhysand, securing the last of his weapon to his leathers. He then spares a glance toward Cassian, who is doing the same. It had been a long week of planning for this very moment.
Koschei initiated contact through a cryptic note delivered to Rhysand. The message proposed a meeting at the lake. A “peace” conference, he had called it. One that exclusively also required the presence of Cassian and Azriel. The terms were strange, but with dwindling options and time slipping away, Rhysand reluctantly consented.
"I'll be back before you know it," Rhysand reassures Feyre, bending down to plant a tender kiss on her temple. His gaze lingers on their infant son cradled in Feyre's arms, his smile warm as he places a gentle kiss on Nyx's head. "Save me a slice of Elain's cake for later.”
"Alright," Feyre exhales, her eyes still etched with worry. Her attention shifts towards the inked markings on her left arm and a fleeting shadow brushes softly against the tattoo. Lifted by the subtle touch, her gaze meets Azriel's and then Cassian's. In that silent exchange, they convey an unspoken commitment to protect their family at any cost. Feyre can only manage a small smile before the three males winnow away.
**
As soon as they arrive at the lake, Azriel feels a stirring in his chest. His attention is immediately drawn to a lone white swan. The swan glides across the murky water. A looming darkness rises from the lake, blocking his view of the swan and causing his shadows to jerk back. 
"Welcome," Koschei's voice whispers through the wind.
Rhysand moves forward, standing in front of Cassian and Azriel, despite the anxiety coursing through him. “Let’s cut to the chase. What do you want?”
The looming darkness swells, and a malevolent chuckle reverberates from its core. Azriel’s shadows tuck themselves behind his wings and his entire body stiffens. He can sense Cassian do the same beside him.  "You know precisely what I desire."
"And you know why we won't grant it," Rhysand retorts. There’s an icy rage swirling in his violet eyes that overcomes his sense of fear. He can only imagine what a world ruled by Koschei would be like and he refuses to allow the death god the power to harm his family.
"I anticipated your reluctance, Rhysand. That's why I've prepared a gift. Aid in my liberation from this lake, and it's yours."
Rhysand scoffs, unwavering. "No gift will entice me to free you."
"Are you certain about that?"
The wind intensifies, rustling leaves and brushing against the Illyrians, raising goosebumps in its wake. Birds, concealed in the trees, erupt in panicked flight. Rhysand, undeterred, digs his hands into his pockets, his eyes narrowing in question at the death god.
Koschei's laughter echoes again. "Perhaps I should show you first. It’s only fair, wouldn't you agree?"
The wind abruptly ceases, plunging the world into an eerie hush. The shadow that looms over the lake drifts to the side, allowing the swan from earlier to glide forward. Suddenly, a dark mist envelops the bird, its form blurring and shifting until the swan's elegant feathers dissolve into a cascade of shimmering silver. From the mist, a cloaked figure emerges, her midnight-blue robes trailing behind her like the ripples of the lake. 
With each step, the water seems to part beneath her feet, revealing the silhouette of a woman long thought lost to the depths. You.
“y/n!”
Azriel instinctively moves forward, hand reaching out towards you. Cassian, however, restrains him, a powerful grip on his brother’s arm preventing any impulsive advance.
Rhysand's eyes widen as you approach, a slow and haunting revelation unfolding in the dim light. It is you, standing right in front of them. In your blood and flesh. But your eyes–your eyes, once bright with life, now mirror the opaque shroud of mist hovering around you.
“This can’t be,” Rhysand breathes, his voice barely a whisper, disbelief coloring his tone. “How?
“King Hybern resurrected your sister from the magic of the Cauldron the same way he did with Jurian. You see, Tamlin was desperate to get Feyre back at that time. He let his guard down, allowing Ianthe to not only disclose the location of the Archeron sisters but also the location of your dear sister’s remains. Tamlin buried her body somewhere in his lands but his father had kept her wings. As a trophy. Did you know her death was slow and cruel?”
A shudder courses through Rhysand. Cassian’s fist clench at his sides and he spares a glance toward Azriel, whose body is shaking. None of them knew the details of your murder. An apprehensive feeling churned in their stomachs and Rhysand felt the bile rise in his throat.
“The sons of Spring did not show her the same mercy they did your mother. They drugged her with faebane, rendering her powerless so that she could not fight back. They sloughed her finger off to gift to you. Then, they took her wings. Let her bleed to death."
Suddenly, Azriel’s chest tightens. He can’t breathe. A pained expression crosses his face and his knees go weak. Images of you being tortured to death flood his mind and all he can think about is how he failed you. Cassian’s grip on him tightens even more, keeping him steady. 
“King Hybern was so sure he’d win the war that he kept your sister hidden. He knew the Shadowsinger was her mate so he drugged her with faebane the same way the sons of Spring did. He didn’t want any of you finding out she was alive.”
“Hybern didn’t want to ruin the surprise. After his victory, he had planned to take you all back to the castle to torment you with her live state. Only to have you die at her hands. Of course, as you can see, that didn’t work out. Briallyn knew of her resurrection and brought her to me.”
Azriel can’t take his eyes off of you. His shadows dart toward you, slithering up your legs and caressing every inch of you. They linger on your wings. You don’t move. You don’t even blink.
But you’re alive. 
All this time you had been alive. That nightmare he had, it was real. You were calling out to him, asking for help. Tears sting at his eyes. That tug he had felt from your shared bond. It was also real. And the tattoo that had reappeared on his skin was not a cruel trick from the Cauldron. But a sign.
“I’ve become very familiar with your sister. She’s very powerful but I’m sure you knew that.”
Rhysand’s gaze flickers to where you stand, heart aching. It’s you but not you. Unlike Azriel, he can’t help but think what if this is all a trick? An illusion to get him to side with Koschei? Cassian meets his worried gaze. They both glance toward Azriel and then exchange a look.
“Let her go.” Cassian finally speaks, hazel eyes glaring at the darkness before them. “And take me instead.”
“Lord of Bloodshed,” Koschei addresses Cassian in an amused manner. “What a most gracious offer. Unfortunately, for you, I have no desire to replace y/n. You, however, are welcome to join me of your own free will.”
“While I am confined to this lake, y/n is going to do everything I physically cannot. She’ll be my proxy, my spymaster. Isn’t that right?”
"Yes, master.”
The words slip from your lips like ice, each syllable devoid of the warmth and affection that once filled them. Azriel's heart lurches in his chest, a cold dread settling in the pit of his stomach as he hears the lifeless tone of your voice. 
"No," Azriel growls, the sound reverberating through the air with a primal intensity. His voice, usually steady and composed, now carries an edge of desperation and fury. “You have no right to her. She’s mine.”
Rhysand keeps his hands in his pockets, hiding the fact that they’re slightly trembling. He eyes you once more, pure agony seeping into his very core. He mentally takes a deep breath and looks back toward the looming shadow over the lake, mustering all his strength to feign indifference. 
“I don’t understand how this is a gift.”
“Here’s the deal, Rhysand. You help free me from this lake and I free y/n from my control. It’s as simple as that. Since I’m feeling generous, I’ll give you a week to think about it.”
All seven of Azriel’s siphons ignite in a cobalt blaze of raw power. He will not let Koschei control you. You’ve already suffered enough. Cassian struggles to maintain his hold, his grip faltering against the force of Azriel's will. 
“Azriel, no!”
The sound that erupts from Azriel was more animal than human—a deep, throaty growl that spoke of primal fury. He breaks free from Cassian, stumbling forward. He regains his footing with ease, rushing toward the lake. Toward the looming figure. Toward you. He’s so close, the water lapping at his boots when your clouded eyes finally meet his.
Burning pain courses through Azriel’s veins, bringing him to his knees and suddenly, he feels like he’s on fire. Your power takes hold over him, penetrating to the core of his being, carving through the marrow of each bone. He knows the fire is not real. It’s only an illusion but it feels as if every single cell in his body is being tormented with the worst agony imaginable. He can barely hear himself scream over the roaring pain in his ears.
Two strong hands clamp onto Azriel’s shoulders and he writhes against it, fighting it. “No,” his voice is a mere hoarse whisper as Rhysand uses his own power to pull him out of your illusion.
As Rhysand’s tendrils of darkness engulf Azriel, the last thing he sees are your eyes. They’re still clouded over, devoid of their usual luster. Yet, against the backdrop of emptiness, tears escape from them.
**
Azriel wakes to a dull ache in his head. He feels the gentle caress of his shadows against his face, attempting to alleviate the headache that grips him. With a slow blink, he reluctantly greets the soft illumination of his room at the riverhouse. Memories of what happened earlier flood back with startling clarity and his wings quiver involuntarily. A physical manifestation of the anguish that had ravaged his spirit. He doesn’t care that it was you who inflicted that pain upon him.
It pales in comparison to the pain you must be feeling inside. A mere glimpse of the raw emotions raging within you was enough to pierce Azriel's heart. Like a tempestuous storm, the waves of pain surged through your bond. But then, abruptly, he was shut out.
The image of your tear stained cheeks as you brought him to his knees plagues him with uneasiness. It’s this restless unease that stirs him, prompting him to rise from the bed. He looks toward his door, his shadows curling against his ears. Heavy with determination, he makes his way towards Rhysand’s office.
When Azriel's shadows forcefully swing the doors open, the entire inner circle stands before him. Their expressions betray the weight of their recent discussions. The room falls into a silence, thickened with tension. They had been discussing you. Without him. His hands clench into tight fists, his simmering anger threatening to spill over.
“Azriel,” Feyre greets him with a tense smile. “How are you feeling?”
Azriel’s eyes lock onto Rhysand. Anguish and resentment churn within him and Rhysand's posture stiffens in response
“We have to approach this situation with caution,” Rhysand says, surprised by the steadiness in his own voice despite the weight of their predicament.
“Caution?” Azriel nearly growls, prompting Cassian to inch toward him. “She is my wife! My mate! And you expect me to just sit here and wait for your approval to save her?”
Rhysand frowns, his violet eyes flaring. “You think I don’t hurt too?” He exclaims, his voice breaking as he utters his next words. “She is my sister!”
A hand rests on Azriel’s shoulder. Cassian’s. “I want to save her too. Trust me, I do. But we can’t just jump into–”
Azriel shakes Cassian’s hand off, his shadows hissing toward the taller male. “What if it were Nesta?”
Cassian frowns and he spares a glance toward his mate, who is watching the scene unfold with a somber look on her face. Azriel releases a frustrated huff before redirecting his gaze towards Rhysand, a pointed finger aimed accusingly at his friend and High Lord. 
"If it were Feyre," he insists, his voice tinged with both desperation and conviction, "you would see no reason."
Rhysand's silence speaks volumes.
"I failed her once," Azriel continues, firm and resolute. "I will not fail her again."
But Rhysand's response is unwavering. "I can't let you go. You have to understand.”
Azriel's jaw tightens. "You can't stop me," he counters in defiance, wings flaring out behind him.
"As your High Lord, I–”
"I'm done," Azriel cuts off sharply before Rhysand can go any further. He’s well aware of the weight of his words but he doesn’t allow them to bring him down. You are his mate, the tether to his soul, and he will put you above all else. Even his family. 
 "I resign as Spymaster of the Night Court.”
Feyre's eyes glisten with tears as she approaches Azriel, brushing off Rhysand's attempt to hold her back. "Azriel, please," she implores, her voice trembling with emotion. She knows what Azriel must be feeling. She knows because she lived it herself when Rhysand died after the war. But she also knows–or at least, hopes–that there’s another way to bring you back home. She’s already making plans in her mind to reach out to Helion.
"Don't go. We'll find a way to bring her back, I swear it. Just give us time."
Azriel shakes his head, the thought of waiting to rescue you souring in his mouth. He can't bear the thought of you in pain, needing him, while he stands idle. The urgency to act gnaws at his soul, a primal instinct driving him to protect you at any cost.
“You’ll abandon your family then?” Amren asks. Despite her efforts to maintain her usual façade of indifference, a faint glimmer in her eyes betrays the struggle.
“I will not abandon my mate.” Azriel says, taking a step back. “She’s my family too.”
"Don't do this," Rhysand pleads as he takes a tentative step forward, his hand outstretched toward his brother.
Azriel takes another step back, his hazel eyes darting across the room, absorbing the silent pleas etched on the faces of the inner circle. He loves them but he loves you more. 
When his gaze locks with Rhysand's again, Rhysand's heart sinks. He realizes that Azriel's mind is already set. His brows knit together in a pained expression. He doesn’t want it to end like this.
"I will not hold this against you," Rhysand manages, his voice strained.
How can he hold this against Azriel? When he would do the same for Feyre. When you, his sister, have been brought back to life only to be imprisoned by Koschei. A gasp fills the room as he drops to his knees. 
"But please... just...please..."
The words catch in his throat, choked by the overwhelming grief and helplessness that engulf him. His shoulders slump in defeat as tears blur his vision. Feyre instinctively wraps her arms around him, pulling him close. A brief sanctuary in the midst of his shattering world.
He knows he cannot make Azriel promise anything and Azriel knows this too. Despite the grim circumstances, there is a flicker of solace in Rhysand knowing that whatever terrors may come, you won't face them alone.
“I’m sorry,” is all Azriel says before winnowing away.
**
Azriel’s shadows tuck themselves back behind his wings when he arrives at the familiar lake. His gaze immediately seeks out the water's edge, where wisps of mist still linger. There's no sign of the white swan he had seen earlier.
"I knew you would come around, Shadowsinger," Koschei's voice taunts from the shadows.
"Where is she?" Azriel demands.
Koschei's laughter carries on the wind, but he concedes. You emerge from the surrounding trees, your eyes widening in shock as you lock gazes with Azriel. This time, your eyes are clear, unclouded, and Azriel's heart twists with recognition as he memorizes the exact shade of your eyes all over again.
"You can't be here," you protest, and Azriel's shadows peek out from behind his wings, reacting to the sound of your voice. It's you. It’s really you.
Your eyebrows furrow, mirroring the same pained expression Rhysand had worn just moments ago. You recognize the gleam in his eyes. "No," you plead, your voice barely a whisper, tears welling up in your eyes. "You can't do this. You have to go back. Go back right now!"
Tearing his gaze off of you, Azriel looks toward the ominous silhouette of Koschei. He can feel the air thicken with anticipation, awaiting his next words. He continues to ignore your protests, even as you frantically rush toward his side. 
 “As long as you have control over her, you have control over me.” Azriel says and then drops to  his knees in submission. 
"My, my, my. What a lovely surprise," Koschei remarks, his tone dripping with sarcasm.
"Get up!" You cry out, your hands clutching at Azriel's arms in a desperate attempt to pull him away from the lake. Away from Koschei's grasp. "Azriel, get up!"
Azriel’s knees remain rooted to the spot but his body leans into your embrace. His eyes flutter shut as he allows himself a fleeting moment to revel in the warmth of your presence—the warmth he had yearned for over centuries. The warmth he thought he would never feel again.
His eyes open and though Koschei is a mere shadow a couple of feet away, he can feel his gaze burning into his soul.
“I’ll serve you too,” Azriel finally says, sealing his fate alongside yours in the grasp of the death god.
**
"What have you done?" Your voice trembles with disbelief, your eyes still wide with shock as you stare up at Azriel, your hands reaching out to grasp his face. After Azriel swore his loyalty to Koschei, the death god had granted you both permission to be alone. He sent you to his sister’s old cottage, where you’d be staying for now.
Azriel's heart swells at the touch of your warm, soft hands against his skin. He wipes away the tears that cascade down your cheeks, his own emotions overwhelming him. "You're alive," he murmurs softly, his voice barely above a whisper, as he rests his hands on your face.
His fingers trace the familiar contours of your features. Every line, every curve is evidence to the reality of your presence. A presence he had long thought lost to him for eternity. The Cauldron had gifted him once more. Here you are, tangible and real. Alive. He can barely believe his eyes.
As Azriel's fingers brush against your face, his shadows dance eagerly in his wake, reaching out to join in the tender caress. They yearn for the sensation of your skin, their touch as gentle as a whisper, expressing their overwhelming joy in silent echoes. "I love you. I love you. I love you," they chant in a chorus of happiness and the bond in your chest sings back in a language only you three understand.
Despite the tears streaming down his face, there’s such a deep and profound warmth in Azriel’s eyes. As he looks at you, it’s like sunlight breaking through dark stormy clouds. You want to bask in its golden glow but as a thought crosses your mind, you abruptly shrink back from him and your lip quivers.
“I hurt you. I-I didn’t want to but I couldn’t stop it. I hurt you. I made you scr–”
Azriel smiles at you, bringing you back into his protective embrace. “It’s okay.”
“No, it’s not,” you breathe, eyes searching for any trace of pain or repulse. You find none and though unleashing your power on your mate was against your will, your guilt threatens to consume you. “I’m so sorry, Azriel. I’m so sorry you’re here.”
"Don't be," he murmurs softly, cradling your head against his chest. His fingers thread through your hair, a gentle reassurance of his unwavering presence. He had lost you once. He’s not going to lose you again. 
With a heartfelt sigh, he pulls you even closer. “I’m right where I want to be.”
Slowly but surely, the cascade of tears dwindled, leaving a trace of dampness on your cheeks and Azriel’s leathers. In your mate’s arms, you finally have the courage to voice your deepest fear.
"I'm scared, Az. What if I hurt you again? Hurt someone else? What if I do something worse?”
The vulnerability in your voice tugs at his heartstrings, igniting a fierce determination to shield you from any harm. He’d do anything for you.
“You can do no wrong in my eyes.” Azriel responds, pressing a kiss to the crown of your head. He then inhales deeply, flooding his senses with your scent. “You don’t know how much I missed you.”
Azriel then pulls away, just enough to look at you again. “I’m so sorry I couldn’t save you but I’m here now. I won’t fail you this time.”
Your gaze softens. You send a wave of pure love through the bond and Azriel feels his heart flutter at the sensation he’s been deprived of for so long.
“You never failed me, Az.”
Azriel's face breaks into a radiant smile and you smile back at him. It lights up the darkness that had weighed heavily on his heart for centuries. "I love you," his voice is barely above a breath, reveling in the blush that takes over your cheeks in response.
He reaches for the chain around his neck, fingers trembling slightly as he clasps your left hand. His gaze lingers on the lunar tattoo on your arm that matches his for a moment before sliding your wedding ring back onto your finger.
Holding your gaze, he brings your hand to his lips, pressing a kiss to the back of it. "My mate," he murmurs against your skin. He then kisses the ring on your finger, the cobalt gem glowing in response. “My wife.”
"I love you," you say back, your arms winding around his neck as your fingers caress the soft strands of his hair. He yields to you, allowing himself to be drawn closer.  You kiss the corner of his mouth. "My mate."
Then, finally, you press your lips against his. "My husband," you declare softly, sealing your bond with a kiss that echoes the depths of your devotion and commitment to each other. 
And for the first time in centuries, Azriel sleeps soundly with you in his arms. Free from the torment of nightmares that had haunted him for so long.
Only to wake up and realize it’s because he’s now living in one.
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a/n: Hope you enjoyed! When writing this, I didn't intend for there to be more parts so for now, it's a one-shot. I left the ending open-ended to allow you to interpret it how you want and also, leave room for a sequel in case I ever do want to go back to this. That being said, while I don't have ideas for a sequel in mind as of right now, I did come up with a backstory for Az & reader in this little au so I might write a prequel on how their relationship came to be.
I also have another Az x Rhys's sister series. It is written in third person and it's more of an Az x OC series. You can find it here, if interested. But I do intend to make this au different than that one.
tagging: @scooobies, @kennedy-brooke, @sillysillygoose444
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littlelamy · 21 days ago
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could you write more angst for rafe? I'm craving to be sad, maybe bc he promised he wouldn't do coke anymore and he was doing well but one day he lies to her and goes to a party to sniff some and then she finds out and maybe she's pregnant but he doesn't know yet 😁
a/n: thank you so much for sending a request!💗
you sit on the edge of the bed, fingers lightly tracing your stomach, the softest swell of new life beneath your skin. rafe’s words echo in your mind, the promises he made when you told him you couldn’t do this if he didn’t change. “i won’t touch it again,” he swore, those bright blue eyes locked on yours, so full of hope and fear and desperation.
and for a while, he’d stuck to it. he’d been good. you believed him.
but tonight, something felt off. the texts had come slower than usual, his answers short, distracted. he was out with topper and kelce, just for a drink, he said. you wanted to trust him—god, you wanted to believe that this time was different.
yet, the gnawing in your stomach hadn’t eased up since he left, a sense of dread you couldn’t shake no matter how hard you tried to tell yourself it was nothing. just anxiety. just your mind playing tricks.
until your phone buzzes, a single message lighting up the screen. it’s topper.
you might wanna come get your boy.
your heart sinks. you stare at the screen, dread pooling in your gut. you can feel the blood drain from your face, your fingers shaking as you type back a response.
where is he?
the seconds stretch into an eternity as you wait for the reply, the silence in your room deafening. when it finally pings, the answer is simple.
party at kelce’s.
you stare at the message, the words burning into your brain. you don’t even need to ask to know what rafe is doing there. kelce’s parties are notorious for one thing—coke. it’s everywhere, flowing as freely as the alcohol.
and rafe…he promised you. he promised he’d never touch that shit again.
you stand up, legs shaking as you grab your keys off the dresser, the weight of your growing secret pressing against your ribs. you haven’t told him yet. you hadn’t even planned to tell him tonight. but now, every instinct screams at you to get to him, to stop him before he ruins everything.
the drive to kelce’s house feels endless, the night blurring outside the window as your mind races with thoughts of what you’ll find when you get there. rafe had done so well these last few months. he had tried—really tried—and you were so proud of him for it. but addiction doesn’t just disappear, no matter how much you both wanted it to.
your hands tighten around the steering wheel as you pull up to the house. the bass of the music pulses through the air, shaking the ground beneath your feet as you step out of the car. the usual crowd is scattered around the yard, red solo cups in hand, laughter and shouting cutting through the night. but your eyes aren’t on them. you’re only focused on finding him.
as you push your way through the crowd, the smell of alcohol and smoke thick in the air, your heart pounds in your chest, a sickening rhythm that echoes the dread building inside you. you glance around, scanning the faces, searching for that familiar blond head.
and then, you see him.
he’s leaning against the bar, back turned to you, and your breath catches in your throat. even from a distance, you can see it—the slight twitch in his movements, the telltale signs that you know all too well. he’s on edge, more animated than usual, and you know. you don’t even need to get closer to know what he’s done.
he’s broken his promise.
you feel a wave of nausea crash over you as you step forward, heart hammering in your chest. every step feels heavy, like you’re walking through water, slow and inevitable. when you reach him, you grab his arm, pulling him around to face you.
“rafe,” you say, your voice trembling, and he looks at you, startled.
his pupils are blown wide, the usual spark in his blue eyes dimmed, replaced by something darker, something you’ve seen before but prayed you’d never have to see again.
he opens his mouth to say something, but the words don’t come. instead, he stumbles over his thoughts, his hand going to his nose instinctively, wiping at it.
“what are you doing here?” he slurs, blinking at you in confusion. “i thought you were—”
“you promised me,” you cut him off, your voice sharp, louder than you intended. “you said you wouldn’t do this again, rafe.”
he flinches at the accusation, his face falling as he stares at you. “i wasn’t—i didn’t mean to. it was just…just a little. i’m fine.”
you feel the tears burning at the corners of your eyes, anger and hurt bubbling up inside you. “you lied to me.”
he tries to reach for you, but you step back, your body trembling with rage. “don’t. don’t touch me.”
rafe’s face crumples, and for a second, you almost feel sorry for him. almost. but then you remember why you’re here. you remember the promise he made, the way he swore up and down that he would change, for you, for your future.
and now, that future feels like it’s slipping through your fingers.
“i’m sorry,” he says, his voice cracking, but you don’t want to hear it. you don’t want to hear his apologies, not when he’s high, not when he’s like this.
“sorry’s not enough, rafe,” you whisper, your voice breaking. “it’s not enough this time.”
he looks at you, desperation in his eyes, and you can see the fear creeping in—the fear of losing you, of losing everything. but it’s too late for that now. the damage is done.
“i’m done,” you say, the words feeling foreign in your mouth, like they don’t belong there. “i can’t keep doing this.”
rafe’s eyes widen, and he shakes his head, panic flashing across his face. “no, no, please. don’t say that. you don’t mean that.”
“i do.” your voice is barely above a whisper, but the weight of the words hangs in the air between you. “i can’t keep lying to myself, pretending this is okay.”
“please,” he begs, stepping closer, his hands shaking. “please, baby, don’t do this. i’ll stop. i’ll get better. i’ll be better. just don’t leave me.”
you swallow, tears blurring your vision as you look at him, this broken boy in front of you, so lost in his own demons that he can’t see how much he’s hurting you. “i don’t know if i can believe you anymore.”
rafe’s face crumples, and for the first time, you see the tears welling up in his eyes, the cracks in his armor finally breaking open. but it doesn’t change anything. it doesn’t fix what he’s done.
“please,” he whispers again, his voice trembling. “i love you.”
your breath catches in your throat, and for a moment, you almost believe him. but then you remember the ache in your chest, the fear that’s been gnawing at you since the moment you found out you were pregnant. you remember all the nights you spent worrying, wondering if this was the right decision, if you could trust him to be the father your child needed.
and now, standing here, looking at him, you have your answer.
you can’t.
the drive home is a blur, tears streaming down your face as you try to keep it together. you don’t even remember how you made it back, your mind consumed with the weight of what just happened. the house feels empty when you walk inside, the silence suffocating as you collapse onto the couch, sobs wracking your body.
you’re pregnant. you’re carrying his child, and he doesn’t even know.
taglist: @namelesslosers @princessslutt @averyoceanblvd @iknowdatsrightbih @starkeysprincess @sixrosberg @anamiad00msday @ivysprophecy @wearemadeofstardust0
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