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fkinavocado · 7 months ago

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Daddy issues- Masterlist, Author’s Note & Warnings

extra / alternatively, read on wattpad

*timeline: somewhere after the main story

Piccolo amore (word count: 8k) -updated 8th of April 2024

You don’t know how this ever escaped you before, but as it turned out, Harry had quite the thing for travelling. As a divorced, smoking hot, young DILF (well, he was a father after all), Harry had eventually embraced his freedom after enough years had passed for him to actually start enjoying life again. He had limited visitation rights for his small daughter, Emily, so what was a divorced, smoking hot, young DILF to do other than to travel, namely through Europe, although some of his other favourite destinations had been as far away as Japan.

He was 27 when he first stepped foot in Italy, and, according to Harry, it was love at first sight. Had it not been for Emily, he’d have moved indefinitely, that’s how much he loved it there. He took extended trips though, and had even started to learn some Italian, practising everytime he stayed for as long as 2 months at a time.

As time went on though, his interior design business really took off back in the US and his growing daughter needed his presence in her life more and more, despite her mother’s interference and efforts to alienate them. Time had flown, and here he was, 43 now and no longer single this time around as he returned after countless years.

But very much still a smoking hot DILF.

…Tuscany, Italy. Literal heaven on earth. You hadn’t bought the plane tickets back yet, but you were in no hurry to leave.

It’d been a journey, getting here. And you didn’t just mean Tuscany.

It hadn’t been easy.

Days had trickled by seamlessly. You’d lost track of how long you’d been here for. It was a haze of sleeping in, sunbathing, afternoon naps, decadent food and sweaty, delicious sex.

Looking at him on the wheel of the convertible he’d rented for your stay there, your heart felt like it could inflate enough to break out of your chest. His curls were a delicious mess, he was all tanned and bright eyes as he glanced at you from time to time to flash one of those trademark smiles of his your way. The sun was setting so you’d taken his sunnies off, making him chuckle. “Just wanna look at you properly.”

“Look at the scenery! You can always ogle me but you’re not gonna have this view every day.”

“All I want is you every day.” Yes, Tuscany was breathtaking but whenever you tried to remind yourself to take it all in you inadvertently found yourself settling your eyes back on Harry. How could you, when there was a time, not long ago, when you thought you’d never lay eyes on him ever again?

He squeezed your thigh, his hand in your lap as always and you kept caressing his knuckles, probably doing a great job at polishing his rings as a result. He had to keep his eyes on the road, since these were unfamiliar places you were exploring almost on the daily and almost every road was as narrow as the last.

He flipped his palm over yours, interlacing your fingers, bringing your hand up to his lips and kissing it gently. He then placed it over his heart and you giggled as he pulled you almost completely over to his side in doing so. He let go then, chuckling in return but you kept your arm extended, and ran the back of your hand along the side of his face, caressing his cheekbone, then his ear, running your fingers through his hair a bit, then down his sharp jawline,admiring his perfect profile.

“I love you, you know,” you nearly murmured, and with the loud sportscar engine you weren’t sure he’d even heard you.

But he did. Had he still been wearing his sunglasses you probably would��ve missed the way his eyes glazed over, slowly growing sparkly in the sunset light. “Baby… none of that. Come on, let me see that handsome smile again.”

“I am smiling. I’m always smiling nowadays. Always. No matter what happens, my default state is happy, because you’re here. I just get emotional sometimes… never tire of you saying that. Never stop, please.”

It was your turn to get teary eyed. “Baby… never. I’ll never stop saying it, feeling it, showing you how much I love you. All the times I wished I could tell you and couldn’t… never taking a day for granted ever again.”

Harry was pulling over, having entered the town you were passing through to get to the small quaint village where you’d rented out a villa for your stay, and before you could ask why, he leaned over and kissed you senseless. This was another thing you’d never tire of. Harry never kissed just for the hell of it. He put his all into every single kiss, be it small, chaste peck or full on make-out session. “My little love. Let’s have gelato for dessert and then I’m taking you home to love on you, how’s that sound?”

“Can we skip the gelato?”

Harry chuckled. “Darling, are you really passing up ice cream so that I could fuck you sooner?”

“Duh. Feel like licking something else. And creampies are better than icecreams. Come onnn….”

Harry laughed out loud at that. “You’re a menace. Up you get before you talk me into this.”

You rolled your eyes playfully but he was already at the passenger door opening it for you then reaching over to the backseat to grab your jacket. It could get chilly even in the warm summer evenings sometimes. He kept it in his one hand and held yours in his other as you began your slow stroll through the nice little town, but Harry seemed to know where you were headed.

“You got a specific place in mind?”

“Mhm. Used to come here often back in the day. Hope it’s still running, they had the best gelato. A… uhm, local brought me there, so you know it’s the real deal.”

“A local, huh?” You teased. Of course you knew what Harry must have been up to on his trips here when he was younger. Nothing wrong about it, of course, and you felt silly for being ever so slightly jealous over it. Part of you wished you could’ve been together much earlier on, but of course, the age difference would’ve made it impossible anyway. You two had met at exactly the right time. Even so, sometimes you felt nostalgic over the lost time you could’ve had together had things been different. Some of which was just life… and some of it, your own doing.

“Signor Harry!”

Your eyes widened at the interaction between the two men, snapping out of your train of thought, the guilt ebbing away but never really going away, ever.

You couldn’t understand Italian, but Harry was still pretty fluent, at least conversationally. He understood it more than he could speak it, at least that’s what he claimed, but ever since you’d arrived in Tuscany he only spoke Italian to everyone he interacted with. You just sat back and admired him, Italian sounded hot as fuck coming out of his mouth. You could tell there was always some sort of talk about you going on with the way the people he was speaking to kept looking at you; and the little you did understand- “bellissima”, “ragazza”, “amante”- you knew that was in reference to you.

This instance was no different, the old man he’d encountered behind the gelato stand seemingly very interested in knowing more about you. Lord knows what Harry was telling them, they all had the same excited reaction, shaking his hand and patting him on the back, sometimes they’d wink at you and it’d make you all flustered.

“Piccolo amore, what flavors would you like, hm?” He pulled you closer into his side.

“Har, they’re all in Italian…”

He pointed at each, translating for you. “Bourbon vanilla, but I guess you got that, Belgian chocolate too, ummm, rum and raisins, strawberries, mint chocolate chip, lemon, meringue,...” he clarified with the older man and then continued “figs, pistachio, dark chocolate, crème brûlée–”

“Oh gosh, stop, I can’t even keep track of so many… just get me what you think I’ll like, alright? What are you getting? Mint chocolate chip?”

“Duh,” he mimicked you from earlier and smothered a kiss on the top of your head, then gave the old man your order. He’d gotten a cone with two scoops for you, which he handed over promptly. “There you go, lovie. I got you dark chocolate and pistachio.”

“Perfect,” you beamed.

“Sorry, they didn’t have creampie.”

You nearly choked on your first taste of the icecream but promptly remembered the older man probably didn’t know what that was. Hopefully. Or if it sounded familiar he’d probably think of an apple pie with extra whipped cream, or something. Hopefully.

“It’s ok, that’s what you would’ve wanted anyway,” you teased and gave him a pointed look. He’d slurped you clean from behind as recently as that morning. He pinched your hip he was resting his hand on then diverted his attention to his double scoop of mint chocolate chip, on a cone just like yours. Harry exchanged some more pleasantries with the old man, as well as paid for the gelato, then after you waved at him politely you resumed your stroll through the old historical town.

Harry loved throwing his arm over your shoulders, or better yet, keeping a firm hold of the back of your neck as you walked. He’d always been possessive of you, and, if anything, he was even more so in Italy where men had a distinct way of ogling women, even catcalling- something they’d never dream of doing with Harry by your side, of course, but their eyes roamed freely scanning you head to toe, and you could feel it everywhere you went. Harry must’ve been hyper aware of it too, maybe more so than you were, because he would snake his hand into your hair and angle your head sufficiently to kiss you- the minty, cold feel of his tongue against yours novel and refreshing. Or even slide his large palm in the back pocket of your jeans, giving your bum a firm squeeze every now and then. “Love this plump arse.”

You puffed through your nostrils, “you better, it’s your fault it’s getting so big. First that fancy pasta and wine for dinner, not gelato, and it’s been like this ever since we got here. I barely buttoned up these jeans today. Gonna have to resort to just wearing my sundresses.”

“You’ll hear no complaints here. Besides, I did say I’d feed you and plump you up, didn’t I? You’re about the same as you were when we first met. Perfect.”

He was right. You’d lost a significant amount of weight in an unhealthy way during your time apart. And he was looking so much healthier too. Happier.

“You’re beautiful either way, Y/N. I just want you healthy and happy. And I know for a fact pasta makes you happy, so…” he shrugged playfully and you kissed his dimple. You knew he was thinking about the same things you were.

It was hard letting go of the past. You couldn’t erase the time apart and the damage it’d done to both of you and your relationship. But for the past 5 months you’d been rebuilding it, day after day, brick by brick. Some days were tough. Especially at the beginning. It’d taken a lot of love, patience and understanding on both sides to get where you were now.

But it was always in the back of your mind.

You still woke up in the middle of the night, startled, somehow back in those crappy places you used to rent out while you’d been on the run. Only for Harry to tighten his hold around your middle, kiss your shoulder gently and reassure you he was there and he wasn’t going anywhere. Ever.

Harry battled insomnia for a long while, something he’d suffered with while you’d been apart and couldn’t seem to shake off. It reached a point where he now was struggling not to doze off while softening, still inside of you, cuddling in your post orgasmic bliss, before he could clean both of you up. Took a lot of night-long marathons to get there, but it did the trick. The flipside was you calling him an old man. But what else was new?

It still felt weird drinking wine by yourself at dinner, since Harry was now completely sober. Had been since he’d found you waiting on his doorstep. He’d struggled with it at first. It’s hard giving up alcohol cold turkey especially considering it’d gotten to the point where he got into the habit of getting wasted and getting himself into trouble while you’d been apart. Just to… feel something.

You didn’t know how he’d done it, but he hadn’t had a sip since you’d been back into his eyes. You knew it must’ve been really difficult, but he kept the struggle to himself. Focused on you and your fragile relationship.

It’d been particularly hard that one time when you went out with his extended group of friends for Halloween and he found himself in a social setting where everyone was drinking around him, for the first time in a long while. And that would’ve been manageable had he not had to watch a new addition to the group give you a hickey, in a game of truth or dare. You still remember how hard it’d been for Harry to reign it in that night- not just the need for alcohol but also keeping himself in check, doing his best to calm down in the bathroom and then leave the party inconspicuously before anyone got hurt. He tried to hide it from you but you found him in time to help him as best you could. You never wanted him to feel like he had to tackle all his demons alone.

That had been the biggest hurdle so far, but he’d made it through sans incident and you were so proud of him. You didn’t care giving up drinking for his sake if it meant it wouldn’t be a trigger for him, but he assured you that you could indulge whenever you felt like it and that it wasn’t your fault he had to give it up completely.

You could argue that it was, in fact, your fault. You had argued. You two didn’t see eye to eye on this at all, Harry insisting he wasn’t going to let you take the responsibility for it all: after all, his daughter had caused it all to spiral out of control- he should’ve told her off, been more assertive, taken control of the situation; hell, he should’ve raised her better!

But you tried your best not to go there, the two of you. Not anymore. You’d talked things out for a long while, and just decided it was better not to keep bringing up the hurtful past. There was no use anymore. You’d both learned your lessons from it and it was time to live in the moment. Create new, happy memories, that someday, maybe soon, would completely make up for those 17 months in which you’d both just… existed, at most.

And even when you got teary eyed, like earlier in the car, you didn’t have to speak the words to know what the other was trying to convey and how it all still hurt so much sometimes that it felt like the present was a sweet dream, a bubble ready to burst anytime, only for the two of you to wake up each in their own miserable existence, apart and alone.

It still hurt. You both still hurt, but you couldn’t change the past. So instead of pretending it never happened, you acknowledged it, and acted on it the best way you could, doting on eachother with as much love as you could.

Therapy helped a lot. Gave you the tools to work through it and turn it into a valuable lesson, if anything.

“You make me happy.”

He kissed the top of your head in response, “think it’s time to head back home. You’re getting needier by the minute.”

You squinted your eyes at him. “Well, excuse me for being a loving girlfriend I guess.”

“Oh, I know you are, baby. And I love it. But whenever you get like this I just know you’re gonna get all whiny and bratty if I don’t fill you up soon. Hm? Am I wrong? You’re gonna tell me you don’t feel all achy already?”

You huffed. Darnit. He knew you all too well.

“And then if I don’t act on it quick enough you turn bratty. So c’mon.” He placed your jacket he’d been carrying for you over your shoulders, “it’s getting a bit chilly, too.”

Harry was right, as always. You found yourself squirming on the ride back to the villa, rubbing your thighs together. Sure, the wine always got you a bit needy. But you’d acted pretty needy the whole trip. You were just so content and he looked so good and tan and radiant whenever he smiled, he spoke Italian in that low timbre, he fed you goodies and took you to see beautiful places, and then on top if it all he fucked you good and made you feel so loved and appreciated.

You just couldn’t help it. Your dynamic had shifted slightly ever since you’d gotten back together. He’d always been dominant but now you just naturally stepped wholly into your feminine energy in his presence, letting him take over completely- and not just in bed. You were his and handed yourself over to him fully. And it was palpable. You knew he could feel it too.

However, he was right about you getting bratty if he didn’t shower you in affection the moment you craved it. Be it because you were in a public setting or what, sometimes you wished you could just hop in his lap and forget about everything and everyone around. He made you crazy with want and need and you were still growing to learn this side of yourself, as he was learning to manage it. You trusted him to lead the way.

You just got impatient sometimes. Maybe a bit bratty even, as he put it.

You scooted closer to him, as far as your seatbelt allowed, and reached to kiss his jaw. You didn’t just stop after a loud smooch though, no, you started mouthing and nibbling at his jawline, licking your way up to his ear and making him shiver. He was cleanshaven, and you took full advantage.

“Just a gentle reminder that I’m driving a motorised vehicle, sweetheart.”

“I know. You always focus and prioritise our safety, driving so aptly down these narrow roads. And then when we’re on longer strips ahead you really hit the gas, so that my hair can fly all wild the way I like and I can throw my hands up and almost feel like I’m flying, and the car is all horsepower and you look like sex personified.” You brought your hand to his lap and began rubbing dangerously closer and closer to his crotch.

“Y/N,...” he warned.

“What? I can’t help it. Whenever you rev the engine it tickles me, daddy… can feel it in my pussy. Now I’m all drippy.”

“Told you you’d turn into a whiny brat. Scoot back in your seat and be a good girl for daddy. Go on, don’t make me ask you twice.”

You huffed irritatedly and did as instructed, crossing your arms over your chest and looking out the window at the scenery trying to distract yourself. It was dark out now and Harry had pulled the top on the convertible, so you really didn’t understand what the big deal was. You could’ve at least given him a handjob…

But finally, finally you got to the villa and as soon as Harry shut the door behind you, you literally jumped his bones, making him chuckle between the kisses you were peppering his whole face with.

“Uff, needy puppy. What’s gotten into you, hm? You’re extra lovesick today. Didn’t I fuck you good and proper this morning? I’m certain you remember it since you had to mention it in front of poor Luciano. He’s 79 you know. What if he’d had a heart attack?”

You gasped in mock offence, “excuse me?! You’re the one who brought it up!”

“I sure did, wanna see?”

You pushed at his shoulder at his stupid pun as he brought you to the bedroom. He was unfazed of course, you couldn’t budge him if you wanted to, and instead threw you onto the bed with a bounce as if you were a throw pillow he’d been carrying, not his “plumped-up” girlfriend.

He began unbuttoning his shirt, a sight you’d never tire of and you squirmed gawking at him before he pulled you by the ankles to the edge of the bed and peeled your jeans off. “Ufff, look at this weepy little pussy. You made a mess of these panties, Y/N,” he tsked and it only made you grow wetter. You loved it when he teased and even humiliated you a bit. “So, are you gonna answer me or not? What got you so cockdumb, darling, hm? Was it the wine?”

“No,” you whined, “you know I only had two glasses… it’s not that. Plus I ate enough carbs to make up for it, anyway.”

“Then what is it, hm?” He rubbed his hands up and down your legs, kneeling at the foot of the bed, and then pushed your knees to your chest, running his large palms over the back of your thighs.

You threw your head back against the mattress in anticipation and whined pathetically. He was right. You really were extra sensitive tonight. “I’m… I guess I’m ovulating. That must be it.”

Harry groaned deep in his chest and plunged nose first into the fabric of your panties, inhaling deeply. “You smell so heady whenever you ovulate, you know that? Pussy so fragrant, makes my mouth water.”

You’d not gotten back on birth control after so long off it. After a long while of relying on condoms you decided to ditch those, too. Harry pulled out most times, but, since creampies were obviously a hot topic in this relationship, you did ask him to finish inside you occasionally.

Lately it had been more often than not.

You both knew the implications of it, had discussed it. Hell, Harry definitely had a breeding kink to start off with, had had it even while you’d been on birth control since having this kink didn’t necessarily imply actually wanting to get you pregnant.

He’d expressed it was definitely more than just a kink though, and that he’d only ever felt this way about you. But it was up to you. He already had a kid, all grown up now ( even though Emily was still a delicate topic between the two of you). But you were young and he wasn’t too old to be a father by any means, you had time along the line for this, there was no rush, and there were no expectations either way. That being said, he did express his desire to have children with you if you deemed him worthy of it and if you even saw yourself as a mother someday.

You’d not made up your mind about it, however. You were open to the possibility, but definitely not actively trying for a baby, not yet at least. You still felt like you needed more time together just the two of you.

But the way he spoke to you whenever he talked about fantasising knocking you up really got to you. And he felt so good fucking you raw, felt so good filling you up. It felt so natural and your body craved it, craved all of it. It was primal, and you knew it, but it felt so good to just listen to what your bodies dictated instinctually.

You mewled and felt him pull your panties to the side, “fuck, Y/N. You’re drenched, baby. Why didn’t you tell daddy it was this bad, hm? Would’ve eaten you out in the restaurant’s bathroom or something.”

It wouldn’t have been the first time, either. No better than a couple of horny teenagers, really.

His mouth on you was divine, as always. You often wondered if other men even knew how to eat pussy the way Harry did. Seemed like some sort of special talent you were either born with or doomed to live without. He knew what you liked and needed better than you did. How else would anyone explain that you could never dream of getting yourself off the way Harry did?

He pushed your knees further back and really dug in after he promptly peeled your panties off of you. You wanted to beg for him to sink into you but you knew Harry never left a job unfinished, and whenever he ate you out he never left from between your legs until they were shaking and you came on his tongue at least twice, out of which at least once using his fingers also to open you up for him properly. Because, still, after all this time, you couldn’t really take Harry without some sort of warm-up, no matter how drippy you were for him. It was a struggle fitting him in whenever you tended to forgo foreplay, and that was something you fully enjoyed too. Loved the pain that came with him slowly feeding that massive cock of his into you, trying to make it fit inch by delicious inch. But that was for when you were either in a hurry of some sort and desperately needed to squeeze in a quickie, or for when he was feeling particularly mean dom-ish. You rarely got to experience Harry in that mindspace though, and even then he was never hurting you really. It was just a lot rougher and because it was such a rare treat, it was secretly your favourite.

This time, however, you’d seemingly forgotten how Harry had warned you not to get bratty. “Not in a hurry, baby. Gonna feast on this pussy for as long as I damn well please. After all, you know how much I love edging you, and you do need to be punished, hm? Brats don’t get to come. At least not until daddy says so. You’ve been warned, Y/N.”

“But daddy….” you whined pathetically, “I’ve been on edge all day, you can’t do this, not now… please!”

“Should’ve been patient, baby. Told you I’d take care of you when we got back. And I did take care of you this morning, you’re acting like a spoiled brat. Can’t have that can we?”

You kicked your legs a bit and Harry delivered a harsh slap to your bum followed by another swifter one to your pussy, making you keen and pant heavily. “Don’t test me, Y/N. You wanna come? Then be a good girl and take it. Begging doesn’t hurt either.”

You did take it, as best you could. And you did beg. You needed to come desperately but Harry kept edging you for what must’ve been at least over half an hour, although it felt like hours on end.

Then, you decided to switch tactics. Try and play on his own desires.

“Ugh, daddy, please, please fill me up. My pussy needs it, I need to be full. Need it so much. Need your big fat cock to ram into my cervix over and over again. Need to feel you in my tummy. And my tits feel so heavy and tender, at least show them some love, daddy. Please… ovulating is making me feel crazy… My body needs you to mark it every way you can, daddy. Please…”

Harry chuckled sardonically against your pussy, making you tremble but you knew better than to get lost in the feeling and let yourself come without permission. “I know what you’re doing, sweetheart. What a desperate, filthy little thing, playing with me this way. You really must want it bad to taunt daddy like this.”

��I do, daddy, I do, I swear I do… I’d do anything. Just tell me and I’ll do it. All I want is for you to fill me up to the brim and then keep going. Cause I know you can, I’ve seen you do it… I love how you stay hard for me even after you finish, pumping your come back into me again and again and then going all night long until you have me choke on you so that you could unload down my throat this time… please, want it again daddy, I know you can… don’t you want to? Doesn’t have to be my mouth the second time around, you can come inside me again, make it catch. Knock me up. Tie me down.”

Harry groaned loudly this time around and pushed your thighs apart, hovering over you whilst his hand went directly around your neck, squeezing enough for you to roll your eyes to the back of your head. He eased up a little for you to focus your gaze back on him before he licked his lips, your juices all over his face that he’d shaved clean that very afternoon before you’d left for dinner. You loved how he did that sometimes, just as much as you loved his stubble. It was a nice switch and he looked just as handsome either way, you couldn’t make up your mind which you preferred more. However, you did feel grateful he’d shaved before edging you like this for so long, otherwise you’d have been sure to chafe a bit from all the friction his stubble would’ve inflicted.

“Careful, sweetheart. You’re playing with fire. You know all too well I’d love nothing more than to fuck a baby into you. I already creampied you this morning, we’re on dangerous territory as it is.”

He was right. You knew he was. But in that moment, fuck it if you cared. If anything, you two had learned how to just be, live in the moment. Tomorrow wasn’t guaranteed.

“All I know is that I want you, all of you. Forever. Whatever that means. Let’s just… be.”

Harry pressed his lips against you and kissed you thoroughly. He’d long since undressed as well, stroking himself languidly every now and then as he ate you out. He didn’t edge himself, you’re the one who needed to be punished, but he just couldn’t help himself. He wanted to be inside of you just as much as you did. But Harry had one thing you lacked which was self control and that’s one of the things that made him such an apt dom in the bedroom.

So, it was easy to slip right inside of you, your pussy swallowing him up hungrily and squeezing him tightly, lest he pulled away. It was such a heady feeling finally being full after craving it for what felt like ages that he’d been edging you, and it only took a few minutes and his permission for you to come hard all over him, making a mess of both of you and the bedding. Luckily the villa had another bedroom you’d not used yet so you didn’t have to worry about changing the bedsheets before you went to sleep.

“That’s it, baby, fucking drench me. Fuck, you were ready to burst weren’t you? My poor darling. Daddy really did a number on you tonight. Gonna keep on coming for me, really open you up for me. How’s that sound? We’re gonna go from edging to overstimulating this poor, sopping pussy.”

You cried out real tears of pleasure as he was dirty talking all throughout your orgasm, never slowing down, no reprieve. He was hellbent on going from one extreme to the other. “Gonna open you up real good, push myself in so deep you’ll feel it for days. You wanted all night? I’ll give you all night.”

Harry didn’t let up. Had you coming on his cock over and over again, your orgasms closer and closer together the longer he went. Flipped you around on your hands and knees, then your stomach, then onto your side, and when you were ready to pass out… the sadistic bastard made you ride him.

You did your best for a good two minutes, until he huffed mockingly. “What’s the matter, sweetheart, thought you wanted to go all night long. You’re barely moving. That’s not very nice, after you begged me to give you my cock for so long.”

You got whiny and frustrated at his teasing tone and really did your best but your thighs were already shaky from all those orgasms, you simply couldn’t muster up the strength. Harry kept mocking you, sitting back, hands behind his head “no better than a pillow princess, look at you. You shouldn’t talk the talk if you can’t walk the walk, baby.”

“Daddy… please… I can’t…”

“I know you can’t. What, you want daddy to do all the work, hm? Nothing but a hole to come into, that’s what you wanna be? Do you think this is what all those Italian women Luciano saw me with year after year did once I brought them back with me for the night? Pfff…”

“Daddy!!!” You cried out. “You’re being cruel…”

“Am I? I haven’t even finished once and you want me to keep going after that, meanwhile you can’t even ride me properly. Silly girl… claimed you wanted me to breed you. Want to be a mother? Gotta be a woman first, learn how to satisfy your man.” He reached over and smacked your bum, which propelled you further, almost dismounting him.

However, the tears that immediately flooded your eyes took you by surprise. This was not the first time Harry had degraded you in bed. You loved it and he knew you did. It was a rare treat, just like him getting rougher with you, which he hadn’t tonight. You usually got off embarrassingly quickly to it, and you knew he’d never say anything with the intention of hurting you.

Harry laughed sardonically but when you pulled back up whatever he’d been gearing up to say got lodged in his throat when he saw the tears gleaming in your eyes, your hands crossing and going to your throat protectively as you straightened up. He immediately pulled out and sat you on his lap, scrambling to cradle you to his chest. “Fuck, baby, you know I meant none of that– you know that! We were playing. You usually love it when I degrade you a bit… I’m such a silly man. Should’ve known better than to go there.”

He spoke softly, caressing and petting you all over, rocking the both of you back and forth and shushing you as you still hiccuped your tears against his chest. “I know… I know you didn’t mean it, but… I just… I was already wondering about them since we got here, I’ve been meaning to ask about what yo– what you used to do when you’d come down here, but I was too much of a coward. I– I got really upset just thinking about it. I know it’s silly… and it’s probably what’s been making me so needy, even before I began ovulating… I just can’t stand the thought. And knowing what… I mean– when we were apart… ughh. I just can’t stomach it, Harry. You were entitled to… You were single after all… in all of those instances… but… but, you’re mine, and…”

“I am yours. I’m yours, Y/N. I pushed it too far… I know your legs are all shaky, I made you ride me on purpose just to mess with you a bit,… but I took it too far.” Feeling you calm down ever so slightly, he pulled away and made you look at him, pushing your hair behind your ears and smudging your tears away. “No one, and I mean no one can ever dream of coming close to you. You hear me? Nobody’s made me feel better, ever. You’re all I could ever dream of, you need to know this Y/N. I’ve never been as compatible sexually with anyone the way I am with you. You think anyone else’s made me finish and then keep on going the whole damn night? Not even when I was younger, let alone now. If I’m any good it’s your own merit, you make me want to push myself and do better, be better for you, every damn time. You make me hard just glancing at you. You’re the best I’ve ever had. And I’m not just saying it to undo the silly stuff I said earlier, none of which was true. I know how jealous you get, I love it a bit too much when you get like that… and I love mocking you and seeing you get all squirmy and embarrassed– but that’s not how I should’ve done it, I went too far. I didn’t mean any of it, please believe me Y/N. I swear it. You’re all I want. I’m the luckiest bastard. Please believe me, sweetheart.”

“I know… I know it, rationally. But it just… rubbed me the wrong way, even though we were playing and I knew better. I’m sorry.”

“No need to be sorry. I’m sorry. I’m a fucking idiot. Please forgive me.”

“I do. It’s alright. Let’s forget about it, alright?”

Harry looked heartbroken. You’d not really seen him like this for a while and it pained you, so much so that you wish you could’ve just kept your mouth shut and went with it, since you sincerely did believe none of it was really true.

But you swore you’d be truthful to one another, and especially in the bedroom Harry had insisted so much on you voicing any sort of discomfort regarding anything, no matter how small. You never safe worded, hell, you didn’t have one, because you never needed to; he knew how to read your queues and you’d never had to stop anything before.

This was the first time you’d stopped sex.

Eventually, you took a shower together where Harry doted on you and handled you with utmost care and tenderness. Then took you into the other bedroom where a fresh bed awaited and held you tight into his arms. “I love you so much, Y/N. You mean everything to me. I hate that I made you cry, hate that I made you feel even for a second like what I was saying was true at all. It makes me sick to my stomach…”

“Would you… want to tell me about them? The women you met here?”

Harry sighed profusely. “Darling, there’s nothing to say. Meaningless people that I can’t even recall the name of, if I even knew them to begin with. I remember nothing about any of them. I was trying to heal after the divorce, trying to let loose a bit… tried to have a bit of fun, lord knows I needed to get out of my head. Looking back, it’s almost laughable. I really thought I’d hit rock bottom back them… little did I know, it could be so, so much worse than that.

“But… at the time, I felt miserable. I began travelling like I told you a few years after the divorce and I quickly became enamoured with Italy specifically. I don’t know… I just love this country. The women… were a means to an end, I was never looking for anything serious, and they knew it. I wasn’t leading anyone on. Never met someone I connected with. I told you, I’d never been with anyone serious after my divorce until you. I’d never known sex could be this way til I met you. Sure, I’d discovered my more dominant side a while back, not gonna try and lie and say I’ve not had plenty of experience in that regard. But, sex is just sex, at the end of the day. Some partners were better than others, and when I was here back when I was younger I hadn’t even indulged in most of my kinks and fantasies yet. It was later on that I embraced all of that.

“But trust me when I say, I’ve never clicked with someone sexually like this. I don’t know if it’s because I’d fallen in love with you, at least in the beginning I wasn’t looking for this to get serious, as you know. But we did click from the start, you just… you just fucking do it for me, Y/N. Our bodies just call out to one another. You’re so responsive and you always know just what to do or say to me to make me lose my fucking mind. We’ve been together for so long… or should I say- I’ve been in love with you for so long, you’d say my desire would’ve dampened with time, or that sex would start to become monotonous eventually. I don’t think it’s that way at all. I feel like it just keeps growing somehow. I never get my fill with you. Feel like a fucking teenager with a loveboner dancing around your skirt all day long. You make me feel like that, no one else. Do you believe me, Y/N? Madly in love doesn’t even cut it. I worship you.”

You were lost for words. You’d been looking into eachother’s eyes this whole time and you couldn’t explain how this man had just made you go from crying, jealous, frustrated and feeling less than, to feeling like the luckiest woman to walk the earth. “I do believe you, Harry. You don’t have to keep explaining yourself. We’ve played like that before and I always took it well, in fact I love it when you get all condescending and mean and it gets me off embarrassingly quickly usually. I don’t know what it was… maybe you’re right, maybe it hit a little too close to home, but I do know you didn’t mean to. I wish I hadn’t had this reaction, but–”

“No, baby, don’t say that. Don’t try to take the blame in any way. I take full responsibility. I’m just glad you know it wasn’t true… I hope you do, hope you’re not just saying that.”

“I’m not, I swear I’m not. I do believe you. And I love you, too, and needless to say no one has ever compared to you, ever. Maybe I’m not as experienced as you… but I don’t have to be to know I’d have never found a better match than you.”

It was Harry’s turn to get teary eyed as he whispered, “you don’t know how much it means to me… that you didn’t– while we were apart; and I wish… I wish I could take it all back. Had I known I’d ever find you… or that you’d ever want anything to do to me ever again… I’d have never–”

“Shhh. It’s alright, baby. I don’t hold it against you. All of it is my fault– no, don’t interrupt me. It’s the one thing we can’t seem to agree upon. I just want it to be clear, once and for all. Us separating and all the heartache and misery we both went through was my own fault. Not yours. Not Emily’s. No one else’s but mine. I should’ve never left the way I did. That was… an inexcusable betrayal… I did it for what I considered to be the right reasons, lord knows I did it with the best intentions. Never meant to hurt you for one second. I really thought I was doing the right thing, I knew you’d never choose between us.

“So I took the decision for you. Which was a gross overstep. I crossed such a huge line, taking that decision for you, not even discussing it with you, abandoning you. I hurt both of us so much. I was so stupid. So… don’t talk to me about feeling guilty. I know what guilt feels like and it’s something I have to live with for the rest of my life. You did nothing wrong. Nothing. You did what you could to keep pushing, to give you at least a semblance of normalcy. I’d never hold it against you, I truly don’t, Harry. So please… don’t paint me into this hero for not having slept with anyone else while we were apart. It would have been torture for me had I done it. As I’m sure it was for you, and that’s why you did it, so you could punish yourself some more. Don’t think I don’t know that. I don’t pretend to understand what you went through fully… but just know I went through hell as well, at my own doing.

“I’m not even asking for your forgiveness. I could never dream of it. I’m so incredibly happy you gave us another chance… No one else would’ve. I still don’t know how you could do it. Still don’t know what I deserved to have you back in my life. So, all of this nonsense about people you’ve fucked in the past and what they were like? That’s so insignificant in the grand scheme of things. You love me, and god knows I love you, and that’s all there is to it. Nothing else matters.”

“It fucking tears me apart to hear you speak like that, Y/N. I’d go through it all again if it meant I could take away your own pain. I do forgive you, no matter how unworthy you may feel, you’re worth it to me. So worth it. Fucking love of my life. I’d go through hell and back for you. I’d have never stopped searching for you. Never. My life is barren without you. Nothing matters. Children or no children, married or not- all these things I try and contain myself about and not overwhelm you with… are just me being greedy and wanting more and more of you. I never want you to feel pressured in any way. I’m content just being here with you in my arms and looking into your beautiful eyes. It’s all I ever wanted. And it’s more than enough.”

“I know, baby. You’re not pressuring me. I want to make you happy. It’s all I want. That makes me the happiest. I’ll give you everything you want. And not from some place of feeling indebted to you… to make up for all the hurt and suffering I caused. I just want to make it clear, because I know you, and I know you might suspect that of me. No. I meant what I said earlier… I’m not exactly saying we should try for a baby… but maybe we shouldn’t be avoiding it at all costs, either. Let’s see where life takes us. We can handle it, right? We’ve proven as much. Just imagining you with a baby in your arms is getting my ovaries in a knot. Maybe we should listen to what our bodies are trying to tell us.”

Harry rested on his elbow, leaning over you. “You really mean it, baby? You’d want that, truly?”

You nodded slowly and Harry grinned the biggest smile you’d seen on his gorgeous face yet. It dawned on you then and there that he’d been really holding back on how much he truly wanted this. It was enough to erase any shred of doubt from your mind.

He proceeded to pepper your whole entire face in enthusiastic kisses, down your throat and all the way to the insides of your palms. He then pulled your back to his chest and cocooned you in the warmest embrace telling you over and over again how much he loved you and how happy you made him.

And just when you were on the verge of falling asleep, you heard him whisper in your ear, “I can’t wait to wife you up… my little love.”

Daddy issues- Masterlist

A/N: it's taken me a long time to get here ❤️ this is the truest version of my babies, good and bad, they're definitely not perfect but their love is ❤️ thank you for being so patient with me and for sticking with me along this beautiful journey. i'll keep writing check-ins for them, promise! any prompts are welcomed!

P.S.: 🍭 anon, this was supposed to be your much awaited balcony scene but i got... distracted. don't worry. it's gonna happen... eventually 😅

💕 like & reblog if you enjoyed this, lovelies, and most importantly, please come share your thoughts on it here 💌

🦋follow me on wattpad to get notified whenever i post something new/update!🦋

#harry styles smut #dilfrry #harry styles #dilf harry styles #dadrry #daddy harry styles #harry styles fanfic #harry styles prompt #harry styles concept #harry styles one shot #harry styles blurb #harry styles imagine #harry styles x reader #harry styles reader insert #daddy issues #harry styles writing #harry styles fic

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xothatnerdykid · 5 months ago

Text

Aizawa x Reader Established Relationship Headcanons

(Cannot, for the life of me, get over my writer's block but I've still got Aizawa brainrot thanks to s7 so here.)

I might be in the minority here but I don't think Aizawa would smoke. He eats healthy and works out to keep his body in shape. Why would he compromise his health by smoking?

His only vices are chronic snacking (he loves those jelly pouch things) and caffeine.

He's usually up 'til dawn most days because duh, he works two jobs (hence the 5-7 shots of espresso in his coffee).

Despite his sleep deprivation most days, he is soooo sexy when he wakes up in the morning. Messy hair. Baggy shirt and boxers. Or sometimes a body hugging tank top and sweatpants. And his voice — his raspy, sleep-addled voice. The feeling of his stubble against the smooth planes of your face waking you up.

He doesn’t usually cook breakfast but he does always brew a fresh pot of coffee for you. And he never leaves without a kiss goodbye, even when you’re still snuggled up in bed, asleep.

When you first start dating, Shouta talks to you pretty much the same way he talks to everyone else. So curt and succinct, you sometimes used to wonder if he was upset with you. He’d usually get confused as to what made you ask that, and then explained that he’s just a man of a few words, that’s all.

As your relationship becomes more established, you notice subtle shifts in the way he communicates. It's not a sudden change, but your conversations start to feel more like a secret code over time, filled with inside jokes that never fail to make him smirk.

Shouta’s love language is definitely acts of service. He’s a pragmatic, action-oriented person who values efficiency. So of course he’d think that actions speak louder than words when it comes to letting someone know your true feelings.

That’s why he loves it when he comes home to your cooking, especially when you surprise him with his favorite dish. Because after 16-hours or so of working two jobs, he usually just passes out on the couch the moment he gets home and you’re not around.

He feels so bad when he comes home too late sometimes and finds you already asleep and his dinner sitting cold on the stovetop or in the fridge. He always makes sure to make it up to you by preparing breakfast the next day or…other…pleasing ways…

Seeing you take care of Sushi, the cat his very-well-and-alive friend Nemuri sometimes asks him to babysit, makes him feel all warm inside, too (although he doesn’t actually admit it, you just catch him smiling softly at you sometimes and quickly looking away when you notice).

As for how he expresses his love for you, it mostly comes in the form of acts of service, too, as well as gifts and physical touch.

Shouta’s romantic gestures are like rare collectibles. They often come as a surprise, but when they happen, you cherish them dearly. He'll surprise you with a thoughtful gift and leave it on your desk with a simple, "Saw this and thought of you."

He won't serenade you under the moonlight or anything, but he'll make you a warm cup of tea when you're tired, or wrap a scarf around you when it's cold.

You don't really have time to go out on dates most weeks, but when you do, you're either at a quiet restaurant or taking a walk through nature in the parks.

His favorite thing to do is sit with you by the window sill on rainy days and just have you snuggle up to him, bundled in his arms, while you read or do your own thing in comfortable silence.

Fighting with Shouta was like having a verbal sparring match. He’s always strategic, although his patience wears thin sometimes, even with you. Still, he knew when to bring something up and when to back down.

He won't shy away from a disagreement, but he's not one to let it linger. He’ll tackle the issue head-on, find a compromise, and move on.

One of your favorite things about him was that he never held a grudge or took conflicts personally.

Shouta’s life is a constant juggle between being a pro hero, a UA teacher, a single dad, and being your boyfriend. But oh, does he master it.

At first you thought maybe he was just a really efficient and organized planner, but one look at him, his apartment, his phone, and his non-existent planner told you otherwise.

“How do you plan on getting all of this done?” You often ask him about his mountain of papers to grade and reports to submit, to which he just shrugs.

“I don’t know, the usual? Coffee. Eye drops.” He sucks on his second jelly pouch of the day and goes back to his cluttered desk, papers strewn about like fallen leaves. "Duct taping my eyelids," he grumbles the last part under his breath.

You laugh, watching him from the couch with a fond look in your eyes. “You’re incredible, you know that?”

He looks up, one eyebrow raised. “For what? Managing to stay awake?”

“For…everything,” you shrug, walking over to perch yourself atop the edge of his desk. “For being you.”

He hums appreciatively as he pulls you closer by the waist.

“I don’t know how you do it, but I’m grateful.”

He glances up at you, smiling a little. You scratch at the stubble on his chin.

“Ready to call it a night?”

“Not quite,” he smirks before leaning up to kiss you fervently, tangling his hands in your hair.

Both of you slept better than you have all week. Afterwards.

You occasionally surprise him by finding him when he’s out on patrol and checking up on him. You love seeing him like this, in his element. He’s so kind to all the people he helps…

(A lot of the time, you end up making out against an alleyway or with him hanging upside down from a fire escape, but that’s neither here nor there.)

#i have no idea what this is #aizawa shouta headcanons #aizawa shouta x reader #aizawa shouta x y/n #aizawa shouta x you #drop some fic ideas if you likeeeeeee i'm so brain dead rn

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cambion-companion · 2 years ago

Note

could you do smutty wedding night (aemond and reader marry for love 😊) and it's of course her first time and he's super sweet and worried

I may have outdone myself with this one.

Man, you guys just flood me with amazing ideas! I decided to finally write my take on a first night with Aemond after getting married. And added some tickle and playfighting in there because he would absolutely initiate that to make his new wife feel more at ease.

Aemond x fem!reader | virginity loss | playfighting | SMUT | 18+ only

Smoke and leather.

That's what your lover smelled like, his long silken hair tangled around your searching fingers as you buried your nose in the crook of his neck.

You could hardly remember the events of the wedding; it was all a blur of laughter and color...and anticipation.

Anticipation of this moment. Escaping to your newly designated rooms, kicking the door open, fumbling to undress, too busy wrapped up in each other to care about a ripped dress or knotted hair.

You were now the wife of Aemond Targaryen. The man you had fallen for as quick as a stone drops to the bottom of a pond. He was yours, and you were his. He seemed intent on proving how much you belonged to him, especially now as he nipped at your bottom lip, pushing his tongue rather aggressively into your mouth the better to taste you.

You groaned into him, fisting your hands in his hair, pulling his harder against you as he unlaced the last fastenings that held your dress to your body. It fell in pool of white velvet around your legs, you stumbled over it, Aemond catching you and bringing you upright once more, pressed flush against him, the thin fabric of your undergarments the only barrier between your flesh and his.

Your pebbled nipples brushed Aemond's chest, he palmed a breast in his large hand, his other hand caressing the bare skin of your waist, dipping underneath the waistband of your smallclothes.

You broke the kiss, pulling away slightly, suddenly shy. Aemond tipped your downcast chin up with a long finger, his lilac eye dilated as he studied your expression. "Do you wish to wait?" He was always so in tune with your emotions, and you knew he was terrified of scaring you away.

"No, Aemond, I just...need a moment to breathe."

He nodded, standing still, allowing you to take in his half-naked form. He was a specimen; tall and straight, his lilac eye glittering from the firelight, shimmering silver hair fell down his back and over his shoulders, the eyepatch hiding the sapphire you knew to be underneath. The planes of his chest and torso were lightly muscled, defined, accentuating his lithe figure.

Aemond's eye was also roving your body. He licked his lips, the straining in his trousers evidence he liked what he saw. Aemond took a few steps toward you, closing the distance. He reached out slowly. "May I?" You nodded, and his fingers found the dip of your waist once more, tickling your sensitive skin.

You flinched away from his touch, giggling at the sensation. His eye widened momentarily, before a mischievous smile tugged his curved lips. "My wife is ticklish, is she? What a fascinating discovery."

"Don't abuse your newfound knowledge!"

"I wouldn't dream of it."

Even now you could see the intent on his face, his muscles tensing like a cat about to pounce on his prey. You squealed, trying to escape toward the bed but Aemond was too quick. He caught you, spinning you around and began to tickle you mercilessly upon your ribs and under your arms.

"Aemond!" You cried, laughing helplessly as you wriggled to free yourself from his clutches. "Aemond please!"

"Not quite how I imagined you would say those words, but I'm not complaining." Aemond chuckled, guiding you to the carpeted floor as your legs gave out.

The fur of the rug brushed against your back as you continued writhing, now pinned by Aemond's body pressed atop your own, making escape impossible, his hair brushing against your throat and chest adding to the overwhelming sensations.

All at once Aemond stilled, the torturous tickling stopped, and in its absence, you became keenly aware of his breath mingling with your own, the proximity of his lips, the way his hands gripped your hips.

"Aemond." Your voice was quiet now, barely a whisper.

But he heard.

Aemond tilted his head, his hair brushing your throat as you swallowed.

Your mouth was dry.

Your reached up, tracing Aemond's angular jaw with light fingers. Brushing the pads of your digits along the vertical scar, hooking them under his eyepatch and slowly pulling it off. The sapphire sparkled down at you, contrasting in loveliness with his purple eye. You continued touching him, trying to convey even an ounce of the adoration you felt for your betrothed...no, your husband.

"Y/N." Your name on his tongue sounded like the most ardent of prayers. "Tell me what you want."

Every inch of his body was pleading for you to acquiesce; to let him take you, claim you as his.

He waited, breathless.

"I want you, Aemond."

That was all he needed to hear. Aemond's lips were on yours once more, the heady feeling of him surrounding you, drinking you down as though you were ichor of the gods.

"Spread your legs for me."

He didn't have to ask twice, you immediately obeyed, feeling deliciously vulnerable as you opened to him.

Aemond made quick work of removing the last of your clothing, the cool air brushing over your intimate areas. You watched as Aemond sat up just enough to shed his trousers, freeing his hard member with a relieved groan.

You hooked your legs around his trim waist, wiggling slightly to position yourself for him to enter.

"You're not ready for me yet, my darling." Aemond moved off you, disentangling himself from your limbs.

He grinned in self-satisfaction as you made a mewl of discontent, quickly overcome by a moan of pleasure when his fingers found your aching cunt.

"Oh." You breathed, arching your back against the furs below, utterly disarmed by the bliss his fingers brought as they stroked your silken folds, circling your swollen bud.

"Look at me, my ember." Aemond coaxed, his voice as soft as the crackling fire. "I want to watch as you come undone on my hand."

You moaned his name, straining to touch any part of him as he sat above you, just out of reach. Aemond noticed, interlocking the fingers of his free hand with your own.

"How many fingers can you take, I wonder?" His eye flicked from your face to where his hand was working you.

You gasped as he pushed his middle finger slowly into you, unable to keep your hips from rocking against him.

"Gods. You are so tight." Aemond whispered, almost to himself. "You're going to feel so good around my cock."

Your brow furrowed as Aemond carefully pushed in another finger, pumping them into your heat, lewd wet sounds filling the room. Your cunt spasmed, the beginnings of climax already coursing through you.

"I want to feel you surrounding me when you cum." His gaze found your face once more as he removed his fingers from you. "I think you're ready."

"Please." You whimpered. "I need you inside me."

Aemond groaned, the tip of his cock already leaking precum as he knelt between your legs, pushing them open wider as he lined himself to your entrance.

"Relax, my love." Aemond watched your face for any signs of discomfort as he began pressing into your soft flesh. "Tell me if it's too much."

He was big.

You had never before experienced penetration apart from your own experimental fingers.

You raised your head to watch him enter you, his cock slowly disappearing as he pushed deeper. As aroused and ready as you were, there was still discomfort as your walls stretched to accommodate Aemond's girth.

Aemond's lips parted, his hooded eye never leaving your own. The look of bliss on his handsome face was enough to send another wave of arousal pooling in your core as he fully sheathed his cock within your soaking warmth.

He leaned over you, his chest brushing yours. Your hands came to rest atop his hips, holding him still. "Give me a moment, please."

Aemond bit his lower lip, nodding, his hair collecting in a silver pool on your skin as he kissed you. "Whenever you're ready."

It took only a few moments for you to adjust, you moved your hips underneath him to signal your desire for him to begin.

Aemond kissed you again, his breath filling your lungs as he pulled out almost all the way before pressing back into you in a fluid movement. You moaned loudly, thankful for the heavy stone walls muffling your cries of pleasure.

"Y/N." Aemond groaned, continuing to stroke languidly into you, his eye fluttering closed for a moment. "You're impossibly tight. I'm not-" Another little gasp escaped his lips. "I'm not going to last long."

His hips stuttered as your walls clenched, your legs wrapping around his trim waist, pressing the heels of your feet against his ass, trying to guide him deeper. "Aemond, please, a little faster."

Aemond took your mouth in his again, drinking down your moans as he rocked into you, setting a quicker pace, the sound of his flesh slapping against your own filled your ears, the musky scent of sex permeating the warm air as the two of you neared your climax.

"Do you feel any pain?" Aemond asked, his lips still brushing your mouth.

"No." You murmured, nipping his bottom lip. "I just feel you."

Aemond pressed his forehead against yours, rutting even harder into your heat, the wet sounds of your lovemaking growing louder as your orgasm began to take hold. You felt as though you were climbing into the very stars, your vision going white as your eyes rolled back. Aemond's teeth grazed your throat as you arched your neck, pressing your head back against the soft fur rug.

"Y/N!" You heard, as though from a great distance, Aemond saying your name over and again, his voice mingling with your own as you called for him to release himself deep within your quivering quim.

The force of your climax dragged Aemond over the edge and he slammed into you, spilling his hot seed, biting down upon your shoulder as your cunt milked him.

"Take all of me." He whispered, guiding your legs up until they pressed against your shaking chest.

Your vision refocused enough to watch as Aemond pumped into you several more times, remaining buried hilt deep until he felt satisfied his release would not spill as he pulled slowly out.

You felt bereft as Aemond's member left you, slick from your juices, his gaze upon your sex as he continued holding your legs aloft. You felt a drop of his cum begin to leak from your folds but before Aemond could react you reached down, scooping up the escaping seed and pressing it back into your warmth.

"Such a good girl." Aemond's voice was husky, his manhood already becoming hard once more. "Can you take any more?"

You brought your wet finger to your mouth, holding Aemond's gaze as you sucked the digit. "Yes."

The night had long turned to the early hours of the morning by the time he was finished with you. The both of you tangled in each other's arms, thoroughly spent. You had found your way to the bed eventually, only after Aemond had taken you upon the sofa and the dresser.

He had shown you an entirely different meaning to the term "dragon riding" and it was not without soreness you awoke the next day.

The sun shone brightly through the windows, Aemond's strong arms still wrapped around your waist, his head now pillowed by your bosom, the silver of his hair shining from where it fanned out over your bare skin.

He stirred as you stretched, opening his lilac eye and propping himself up on his arm, gazing down at you with tender adoration.

"Good morning." Aemond traced the shape of your lips with a finger before kissing you. "Or...good afternoon by the looks of it." He pulled back to measure your expression. "How do you feel?"

You had to take a moment to come up with the right word for what you were feeling. "Complete." You said at last, earning a smile from your husband.

"Allow me to indulge myself for a moment." He moved closer to you, knocking your knees apart as he pulled you flush to him by your waist.

You didn't resist, hooking your leg over his waist as you felt his ready cock now so familiar prodding at the junction of your thighs.

"Have you not been indulging yourself all night, my dragon?" You teased, your smirk disappearing as he slid inside you once again.

"I will never have my fill." Aemond kissed you sloppily, sleep still weighing upon both your minds even as he seated himself entirely within your cunt.

The stretching sensation that bordered on unpleasant last night now felt familiar and right, as though Aemond had been molded specifically for you. You moved slightly, getting more comfortable, expecting Aemond to begin fucking you into the mattress but he remained still, savoring your warmth.

You wrapped your arms around him as he nuzzled against your chest, wrapping his lips around your nipple and sucking gently. You groaned, trying to move your hips but Aemond stopped you. "Let us just be still in this moment, Y/N."

Understanding dawned and with it a new emotion altogether different from the passion of the previous night. You carded your fingers through Aemond's argent hair, savoring the feeling of his mouth and tongue on your breast, his cock warm within your walls.

Your heart swelled; this intimate show of unconditional trust was a gift from your silver prince. He was the moon of your life, the man in whom you had found home.

Your one-eyed dragon.

Your ultimate protector and advocate.

His heart belonged to you, and you would guard it with your life.

Aemond's breathing slowed.

Your own eyes, though wet from the sudden stirring of emotion, grew heavy once more. The exhaustion from the night before still weighing on your tired muscles.

Sleep took you in a dreamless embrace. You felt the warmth of Aemond surrounding you, filling you. His familiar scent and his head resting atop your chest guided you into a slumber more peaceful than any you could remember experiencing.

You were home.

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moonshynecybin · 5 months ago

Note

you’ve talked about Laguna Secq being iconic but what about Valentino’s reaction to the first time Marc pulls one of his moves (Jerez, 3rd race of the season)

okay this was initially supposed to be BIGGER and include ASSEN 2015 and JEREZ 2013 but the beautiful sirens call of laguna seca 2013 is the only one i got to before i ran out of steam… small teeny weeny (1.5k) fic about marc using vale’s moves pun INTENDEDDDDD:

“You keep using my moves.” Vale says, coming up behind Marc on the balcony. His breath hits the back of Marc’s neck as he leans against the railing. Close.

They’re alone, shoulders brushing, outside the party— and Vale sounds happy, which Marc thinks is a good sign. He shrugs.

“I told you— I’ll pay the copyright.” Thumbing some hair behind his ear as Vale settles next to him, he lets a smile stretch over his face. They’re away from the party out here, alone, and Vale’s been— Vale’s been amazing, these last few months, as Marc’s rookie season has taken shape. The best, really. Exactly like Marc thought he’d be.

The lines of Vale’s body are impermeable— trending almost impressionistic in the dark— bright patches peaking through the window and painting streaks of light on his skin. He’s smoking as he talks, cigarette flaring orange in the dim light as he takes a drag, cheeks hollowing, and normally Marc can’t stand the smell of cigarette smoke, but right now it’s just good. Smells sexy. Adult.

“Ah, well that makes it okay, then.” His palm lands on Marc’s shoulder, shaking him around, a nod to the play-choking earlier in parc ferme. Just like then, Marc lets himself be moved, a laugh exploding out of him as Vale manhandles him. His fingers curve, covering Marc’s shoulder entirely, warm and heavy. He loves this, loves the way it feels— Vale putting him where he wants him, bringing him on the inside of a joke only the two of them get to enjoy.

“They’re good moves.” He protests, breathless when Vale lets him go. His narrow shoulder stays close, and Marc doesn’t think he’s stopped smiling once since the checkered flag was waved, cheeks starting to hurt.

Vale’s playing.

“I know they’re good moves, I made them! I never expected I would have to say fuck!” All the emphasis on lands on fuck, accent liquifying the word into a short, sharp sound. Marc thrills, absorbing it. A whole party full of people and Vale came to him. “—they are being used on me!”

Marc laughs again, tilting his head. He raises a bitchy little eyebrow, wry. “You know, you are taking it better than Jorge, I don’t think he liked your moves very much.” Marc copying his move again, from Jerez 2010 this time. After the race there this year, Marc had tried to shake Jorge’s hand three separate times, and had only managed it on the plane ride home, once things had cooled off a little bit. It’s not— Marc doesn’t exactly blame Jorge. He knows how he can get, sometimes, on the track, even if he doesn’t regret any of it. But he’s not unaware of the blinders he can have, when a win is in reach, and the problems other riders can have with it.

But he hopes —thinks— that Vale is different. Because he’s right: it’s Vale’s moves that Marc has been using.

“Allora, he will get over it, he’s just sad he lost.” Vale comes back with, immediately, shoulder still clamoring into Marc’s, clearly pleased with the vein of conversation, with ragging on Jorge just a little bit, and Marc beams. Vale understands, of course he does. It swoops through his stomach, better than a wheelie. Almost as good as an overtake, as a podium. Marc’s found another.

“And he’s never liked my moves, anyway.” Vale adds, dancing his eyebrows, innuendo happy on his tongue.

Marc cackles— Jorge wouldn’t—but still needs to be sure. He asks, clumsily, eagerly:

“You’re not mad, that I repeated your pass on Stoner? It wasn’t on purpose, or anything. I didn’t plan it.” It wasn’t really— he had already overtaken him coming in. Vale had made the mistake in the breaking and Marc had already been half a bike ahead. But it had happened like that anyways, thrilling. Fate. A passing of the baton.

Vale considers, takes a drag of his smoke. Waves a hand around once he starts talking.

“It’s different, yes? My pass in 2008 was one of the best— I want to say of all time?” Marc nods, Vale keeps going. “I mean, for the win. A lot of drama. And you know, coming up on Turn 8 I heard you behind me, but I expected you on the other side— so you were very smart. And it’s my move so I can’t say anything. But today, the Honda was—“ He makes a sound effect, blowing air out of his mouth to imitate the speed of Marc’s bike. “You would’ve passed me two turns later no matter what.”

Marc nods, biting his lip. He’s right— his bike was fast.

“So. You say it wasn’t on purpose?” Vale follows up, a sly bent coloring his expression, like he thinks Marc isn’t being 100% honest, but wouldn’t be mad if he told the truth.

“I mean, maybe a little bit.” He says sheepishly, head down in a shrug. It hits Vale, and Marc watches him blink and smile— charmed, Marc thinks, almost despite himself, shaking his head. He scuffs marc’s arm, and Marc feels like he must be glowing. The new model, he had said, earlier in the press conference. Just with more upgrades.

“But now if I do it to you, you can’t say anything.” Vale hits Marc’s chest with a lazy tap of his knuckles. “What is it they say? Rubbing is racing?” He adds, pulling another drag of his cigarette. There’s some scruff at the edge of his jaw, and his little finger is slightly crooked, won’t bend all the way. It makes Marc feel bold—

If he sees an opening, he’s going to take it.

“Well,” He lets intent carry into his voice, hand edging Vale’s on the railing. “Not just racing.”

Vale’s eyes pin him, a split second of surprise. He points at him with his cigarette, makes a face, it zings through Marc like an over-fast corner. “That’s a bad line.”

Marc plays coy— it’s worked so far. “To be fair, if I learned all my moves from you— I haven’t really seen you do this part yet.”

Vale’s shifts, considering, but Marc thinks he’s right there with him, on the line— high on endorphins and that huge, shivery feeling of finding someone who gets it, that same way only someone like them can get it. Vale’s got to be able to feel it too—

The mood thickens, sticky sweet, making Marc hyper aware of everything in the room, making him try and commit it all to memory— the first time they ever do this. He wants to savor it, preserve it like a picture in a frame, review it in the years to come. The quality of the light, the smell of Vale’s cologne, the grain of the railing. He digs his fingers in a little, rolls up on the balls of his feet. He wants to feel everything that he can, as much as he can.

Vale—like always— is still into the joke, skirting around the heart of the issue, performing for an audience of one. He nods, rubs at his chin, looks like he’s considering him.

Marc bites his lip.

Vale moves slowly, like he’s in no hurry at all. He stubs out his cigarette, stepping into Marc’s space, and Marc has to tilt his head back to meet his eyes. They’re half-lidded, lazy. Confident. His pupils are blown, huge in the dim light, and his gaze drops unerringly to the slash of Marc’s mouth. Marc grins. Got him.

“I think you have a lot to learn.”

A hand lands on his waist.

“Will you teach me?” Marc thinks his voice is higher than he wants it to be.

Another hand, low on his back.

“If you want.”

A nose traces the edge of his cheekbone. Teasing.

“I do.” Marc presses them together. “Want.” His breath hitches as Vale responds, leaning into Marc and bringing his thigh up, smooth and firm, so that it presses against Marc’s cock, a shock of sensation. His hand stays where it is, low and possessive on Marc’s back, hot as a brand under his shirt, five fingers against skin.

“Well fuck, Marc, I can see that.”

Marc laughs, hitching his hips forward, dragging against him. They haven’t even fucking kissed yet. “That one of your moves?”

Vale shrugs, eyes still caught on his mouth. Marc licks his lips. A hand drifts to grab his ass.

“Yes.”

“Don’t teach it to anyone else.” Marc asks. Really this should just— this should just be for the two of them.

“Okay.” Vale laughs, sounds surprised, delighted, turned on. It makes Marc rock up on his toes, makes him smile, makes him dig his fingers into the fabric of Vale’s shirt.

Got him, he thinks when Vale leans in, lips meeting Marc’s in a messy clash. He tastes like liquor and smoke.

Got him.

#motogp #callie speaks #rosquez #asks #prompts #my fic

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yunaboveclouds · 1 year ago

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Jotaro Kujo (Part 3) x Reader

Dating Jotaro Kujo would include:

- Boy I don’t even know how the hell you got him to fall for you. You probably didn’t bother him like his fangirls and just talked to him like a normal human being. I feel that’s all he wants

- It might take him a while to actually start liking you, he’ll slowly start falling though as he realizes you’re a pretty cool and chill person

- Chillin with him while he smokes whether you join him or not

- If you don’t like the smell of smoke (like me and my lungs fr) then he won’t smoke in front of you, though that doesn’t mean he might have the scent of cigarettes on him

- We established he’s a tsundere, he loves you a lot just doesn’t know how to show it straight up, especially in the beginning

- If you ask him out he’d accept, probably acting like he doesn’t care and pulls his hat down to hide his face and smile

- If he asks you out he’d keep it very straightforward, short, and simple. It’s just “Let’s go on a date.” And you BETTER accept, do not break this big guy’s heart :(

- The first date would also be simple, maybe a small picnic in the park or going out for food

- I feel a lot of the dates wouldn’t include a ton of talking, and if there is talking then you’d be doing a good amount of it. Jotaro comes off as the type of guy who enjoys just being in your presence

- So basically his love language is quality time

- He’ll give you small gifts like seashells and jewelry or have Star Platinum get things for you if you wanted

- As your relationship progresses his gifts will get bigger. Such as giant ocean animal plushies

- More dates like going to an arcade so he can win you prizes effortlessly and impress you

- There will be aquarium dates, might be the place where you first kiss. Picture it, standing under a tunnel of fish swimming all around you and he pulls you in for a kiss

- Will beat people up for you, no questions asked

- You got a girl from school picking on you? Don’t worry, his fists are rated E for everyone. Equal rights equal fights

- Will not let his fan girls bother you, like they will never even get close to you (don’t ask how)

- Listening to music together whether it’s blasting in his room, on the car while you guys watch the stars, or sharing ear buds

- Even though he holds up his bad boy personality around everyone including his mom, he has his moments where he just melts with you

- Please hold his face once in a while, he’ll love it

- Very minimal PDA, closest you get is you and him wrapping your pinky fingers (if his giant hands let him)

- His mom would love you so much oh my god, sweetest woman alive

- She’d invite you to come over so often and loves that someone got Jotaro to settle down with

- Jotaro’s friends would be so surprised if they found out he was dating someone, Kakyoin wouldn’t be as surprised but Polnareff? Polnareff would be so lost as to how Jotaro got a girlfriend before him

- Forehead kisses, he has to bend down all the time to kiss yours

- Probably has back problems because of you

- Despite his fists being brutally scarred and coarse, he’s so gentle whenever he touches you in any way. I feel his hugs are the best and he’ll try to be careful when you hold hands

- Will carry you

- Let’s you wear his hats and clothes (but not for too long cause he wants them back)

- If you ever go on any transport, plane, boat, train, you name it, he will let you rest on him. Just don’t bring Joseph, it’ll give Jotaro PTSD

- Carefully caresses your face and admires every part of it, even plays with your hair

- If you can see Star Platinum he would love you so much, they say that Stands are a reflection of one’s soul. So basically Star will be very excited to be out and to see you

- Jotaro will smile with you a lot more than others

- He’s not the best at communication but once you get to know him it’s very easy to tell how he’s feeling

There’s probably more stuff but that’s all I got for this one. I am currently going through a JJBA brain rot please let me know if you have any requests!

#jjba #jjba part 3 #Jotaro #jotaro kujo #kujo jotaro #star platinum #stardust crusaders #jojo #jojo no kimyou na bouken #jojos bizarre adventure #jojo's bizarre adventure #jojo x reader #jotaro x reader #x reader #jjba x reader

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jamneuromain · 1 year ago

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Wild Child Chapter. 1

Series Summary:

As the granddaughter of the sole Duke in your country, you know that you were going to marry some douche prince, because it is the only way to solidify the grasp the future king has on the Upper House. On the flight home, you come up with a brilliant plan to defy your upcoming matrimony.

Bringing a random man to your grandfather's place, and say you have a boyfriend already.

"Is there anything else I should know about? Before I meet your family?" Ari cocks his head to the side, watching you adjusting your cerulean Valentino dress when you wave your hand dismissively.

"Just say we're in love and help me get out of marrying this D-bag."

Ari Levinson x You

#i didn't know he is my fiance-douchebag-prince

#when i did, it was too late

“Ladies and gentlemen, welcome on board Flight CM80072 from London to Ancetol. This is your Captain speaking. My name is…”

The broadcast started as you stuffed your ears with your earbuds. The screeching static along with the horrible noise whenever the captain chewed the mic in his lips and popped every consonant as if he couldn’t speak otherwise.

You should have brought your earplugs.

Or fly your private plane.

Correction: Fly your family’s private plane.

But you guessed they were still mad at you, which was probably the reason why the bodyguard they sent simply handed you an envelope with an airplane ticket inside.

“Would you like to see the menu?” The stewardess asked you with a kind smile, handing you the thick book of menu, “We have foie gras, smoked salmon, or veal rolls for the main course. Of course, you can also choose the vegan meal. All the ingredients are listed below the dishes.”

“I’ll have the veal roll.” You took a sip of the lemon-flavored soda she gave you earlier, “First course - the shrimp, and dessert would be the … ice cream, with extra berry toppings?”

“Excellent choice, Miss Y/L/N.” The stewardess nodded, taking notes of your demands, the impeccable smile still on her lips, “Any drinks?”

The bodyguard to your back coughed. Very loudly. Very spontaneously. As if he would be dead if someone didn’t hand him a glass of water or ship him off to the chemotherapy very soon.

“Cappu…” you changed your mind as soon as you were “reminded” that you were not allowed to drink alcohol, "Screw it, apple cider please.”

“Miss -” The bodyguard in the full black suit tried to warn you, “His Lordship won’t be pleased.”

“His Lordship,” you sniggered, “desperate measure to demonstrate his control over me, huh? Plus, I don’t think I recall our King has issued any announcement on the succession of the title. So, Lord him all you like. Pathetic man. I’m not respecting someone who participated perhaps even less than a minute in creating me.” You muttered the last few words under your breath.

You could practically imagine what “His Lordship” would do when he hears the report from the bodyguard, word for word.

He might throw some crystal ornaments to the wall, shouting at the top of his lungs, as if that would reinforce his authority.

A man to your right chuckled. Like you, he was just approached by the stewardess regarding his meal choice, now sipping scotch on the rocks. You glared at him. He looks like a man in his 30s. Terribly well dressed. The suit fitted his tailoring right up to his cufflinks. Golden cufflinks, you might add. White shirt without a tie. Long hair with a full-grown beard.

“Sorry, can’t help but overhear.” He raised his hands and folded them on his knees, “I’m Guy. Guy Thomas.”

“Mr. Thomas,” you shared your given name with him, but left out your family name, offering to shake his hand.

“Guy.” He stressed, “You’re from Ancetol?”

You were born in the outskirts of Ancetol, the capital of your home country, Ballenia, one of the few countries that are still ruled by a monarch. Your mother was relieved that you were blessed with a quick birth. But your father wanted nothing more than a boy. A boy that could take the family title and carry the family honor. Probably why he didn’t make an appearance until the second day of your birth. Reluctantly. You might add.

You spent the next couple of years of your life in a small town in Ballenia, growing up with your mother who thought innocently that your father would miraculously love you and accept you both as family.

You stopped believing in “a happy marriage” a long time ago. No. You stopped believing in “marriage”. And the fairy tales. And the lovely stories that told you one day, Prince Charming would come to rescue you riding his big white horse and ask you to be his wife, and some happily ever after bullshit.

No.

The reality was, fairly close to the story of your family, where the “Cinderella”, your mother, was abandoned by the prince, who is your father, and he had a couple of mistresses when Cinderella was only allowed to be presented during formal circumstances.

Ah yes, after all, a divorce would destroy the reputation of His Lordship. Making them look bad if they kick a civilian woman out of the door. The press would go frenzy about it, spreading the news that the “Cinderella” had been divorced by the cold-hearted heir of the Duke.

Luckily, or, unlucky for your father, it was your grandfather who carried the Duke title. Your grandfather who was equally displeased with you, a useless girl. Your grandfather, who passed away quite recently. Three days ago.

Hence, your urgent return. And some pretenses for the reputation of your family.

So, sunglasses it is then. During the funeral. With a white handkerchief. No one will see your dry eyes incapable of producing tears, not for that old bastard anyway. You thought to yourself, eyeing the huge bulk of a man next to you.

Did you forget to mention that the late Duke did the same trick as your father? Marrying a civilian woman and keeping a dozen mistresses in the same mansion they live in?

“You sound local.” You commented on the way he speaks English, “Are you from Ancetol as well?”

“Aww, what gave it away?” The man switched to fluent Ballenian, the language you haven’t heard of for years, and asked you, sounding sincere, “Is it the ‘r’? I always mess up the ‘r’.”

“Your name doesn’t sound local though,” you buckled your seatbelt as the stewardess stepped close to inform you the plane was ready to depart, lowering your eyes to fumble with the metal link, “Guy Thomas. Very American.”

Ari, no, Guy, pushed a little smile on his lips.

Of course, this name sounded American. You would freak out if he told you his true name.

“My mother is American and my father is Ballenian.” Which was 75% true because his mother was half American. The other half Danish.

He went by “Guy Thomas” when he was having fun among people and didn’t want to spoil everything by announcing he was Ari. The fucking prince of Ballenia.

Total mood killer.

“Are you here for business or pleasure?” You joked, “Or visiting your family?”

“Mostly business.” Ari fabricated a lie out of nowhere, “I work as a manager of my family business.” Technically that’s not a lie. He even slipped in some details for credibility.

Family business, the kingdom.

Manager, well sort of, since his dad owned the country.

“And I’m back in Ballenia to secure a deal.”

You lacked interest in business and all that, waving your hand as if dismissal, but allowing the stewardess to come and take away the food and drink in front of you, “hard to do business nowadays, especially when the Minister of Foreign Trade is a jackass.”

“You speak as if you know him.”

“Please, he’s been in that position for fifteen years.” You rolled your eyes.

The minister tried to get you to marry his hideous, lazy, pig-like son who knows nothing more than eating, smoking, and partying. Promising your father to “sweeten the deal” by favoring the company your mother owned but your father controlled.

Your father really would have said yes if it weren’t for the deal years ago, promising you to another man already. A man more powerful than the minister or his son will ever be.

“Of course, he is a jackass. If not now, then somewhere in his 15 years of gripping the foreign trade.” But you were not telling a total stranger about you being promised around like a Ming-Dynasty Vase. “Just look at the new announcement he made with the U.S. What deal did he make? None! Claiming that ‘further efforts are needed’. Further my ass. The Ambassador from the States could barely keep the smile on his face for Christ’s sake.”

Ari took a mental note to look into this “jackass” Minister.

“What about you?” He asked, “Visiting your family? Plan on staying here long?”

You pursed your lips on hearing the question.

Visit your family? How about dead family?

You were here to attend your grandfather, the late Duke’s funeral.

Staying long?

You wouldn’t curse yourself like that.

The longer you stay, the more probable your father and your mother will talk you into marriage.

You loved your mother, but for Christ’s sake, “I hope not.”

Ari didn’t respond to your reply. He simply hummed, making you confused about whether he agreed with you or not.

The plane did not wait for a minute more before departing into the air. A short while of gravity shift brought you 30,000 feet up in the sky. You pulled down the blind as the annoying sunlight burned your eyes, getting up for a bit more leg room and heading to the bathroom.

In the blink of an eye, a violent turbulence threw you off your own feet.

The soft ring of the safety belt sign turned the orange light on, while you slowly came to your senses that you weren’t embraced by the ground, but rather a firm body wrapping around you. One arm on your back, holding your upper body, another hung – rather awkwardly – in the air. You were sitting on his thick thighs sideways. Your ankle hurting. You were pretty much sure you twisted it with your damn heels.

“Miss Y/L/N!” The bodyguard hurried towards you, completely disregarding the tremble of the plane, rushing to your side. “Miss, I need you to try and stand up.” He held out an arm, leaning towards you to help you up.

Seeing him trying to assess how hurt your ankle was, you were very touched that he was concerned and reacted quickly. Maybe a small pay rise for him if you get back to your home?

Your bodyguard sighs, shaking his head with a disapproving look, “If this is your way of trying to escape the deal, his lordship won’t be pleased.”

Oh yes, the deal. The deal that simply packed you like a FedEx item and threw you to the palace door. The deal that promised you to the prince, right after you were born. The deal that you were told by your parents to honor for as long as you can remember. The deal lurking in the corner and bit you in the ass whenever you had done something to displease your father, reminding you over and over again that the only reason that you were alive was the fucking deal.

Apparently, your father had left out a most important piece of detail when instructing this bodyguard to “guard” you from running away.

You hardly ever do as you’re told.

“I think my ankle is broken.” You said dryly, pointing at your feet, not even trying to pretend that you can convince no one with your bland facial expression, “Can’t get up.”

Ari bit his lips so that he wouldn’t laugh.

You were sure as hell an interesting soul.

If he had any doubt or concerns regarding marrying you, a complete stranger in a matter of weeks, he now had none.

He thought you were the kind of girl who was a black sheep in the family, a wild child, with tattoos on your eyeballs or something. But you were nothing like his imagination.

Wild? Sure.

Black sheep? Compared to your father, the to-be-Duke, who seemed more like what the term was describing.

Ari raised his eyebrows, “Although I wouldn’t oppose you sitting on my thighs,” he nodded towards the stewardess who lurked behind the thin veil of curtain, “I’m afraid she would be unable to do her job properly if this continues.”

You clenched your jaw. Ignoring the extended hand from your bodyguard, you stood up, feeling instantly a sharp pain stinging your bones.

Bathroom was long forgotten, not that you have a chance to reach there on your own, you slumped down the seat and made sure you pushed the seat back until you could almost lie down like on a gurney. Lifting the hurting ankle on your other ankle, you closed your eyes.

Fuck his lordship.

The pain throbbing on your ankle. Your body dipped in both the coolness of the AC and the heat from your spine and the back of your head.

The few hours on the plane became more and more unbearable.

The veal roll didn’t lift your spirit in any way when it was brought to you.

The meat itself was fine. Only that it tasted like wax to you. You let out a long exhale as you outstretched your leg to ease the stress. Finishing the meal barely, you pushed the plate away, not even looking at the cider that you were thrilled to piss your father off with, and asked the stewardess for some paper. Empty sheets for writing.

She was clearly dumb-founded by your request, but hurried to carry your idea out.

You thanked her when she brought you some sheets, torn from some notepad as there were jigsaw razor edges on the side of the paper.

If the pain and the fact that every second you were closer to Ballenia was bothering you, you only needed something more bothering to take your mind off.

Ari narrowed his eyes when he cast a glimpse that you pulled out a pen from your bag from the overhead compartment and started writing on the empty sheets of paper.

Call him nosey but he wanted to know what you were writing.

Too inconvenient for him, your letters scribbled too small for his eyes to see. Occasional glimpses couldn’t help him read your writing. Nor that the content on your phone was clear enough for him to read either.

He did know that should be a text of some kind.

What text though? That was the real question.

…not some kind of text that could curse the royal family of the Ballenia, right?

Ari was almost amused by his own thoughts, before a shiver ran down his body and stuck an idea in his mind that this was totally and perfectly possible.

…you wouldn’t, would you?

Hard to tell. You weren’t exactly obeying the orders to marry him. Delaying it a couple of times in the past three years. And now, hearing that you had just called a minister “asshole” … or was it “butt ass” (?), anyway, something about ass, behind his back, and that you could mull a long face over your own bodyguard? Ari couldn’t figure out your temper and your actions all of a sudden.

The adjectives, that your father and his father used when they were talking about you, didn’t even come close to you.

“Kind” “Warm” “Considerate” “Perfect Princess”.

“Exceptional”. Maybe this was the right word.

Definitely different and strong-minded.

He could almost imagine the changes you would bring to his family and the kingdom.

He could discuss politics with you. You had your own thoughts and ideas, which was a good sign. Talk about foreign policies. Speaking of, he should really have someone fetch your dissertation from your university to understand where lies your interests. He’d allow gossip on the table too, if that’s what you like.

Ari hated gossip.

And there he was, imagining the future with you, before you were willing to marry him.

“If you want the book, I can lend it to you.” Your voice snapped him out of his fantasies. You had stopped scribing and rubbing your knuckles with your other hand. Pursing your lips together, you had, obviously, found out that he had his eyes glued to you.

“I’m sorry?”

“The History and Nature of International Relations.” You shrugged, twirling your wrist and your shoulder for writing too long, “I gotta warn you though, it’s pretty boring.”

Ari knew the correct answer to his question, but he asked either way, “You are studying it?”

“No. Yes. Hmpf,” You pouted at your change of words, “I did. I was. I was studying International Relations.” Something blipped in your mind, “Did you know this book?”

Ari smiled, “Took a course in International Relations years ago. I’m surprised they are still using it as an example of a textbook – where did you study?”

“NYU.” That’s a plain fat lie. You had a friend studying at NYU, but you were not planning on giving all your personal information away to a complete stranger, “You?”

Ari cocked his eyebrows. You were studying in Cambridge. He read that from your file.

“University of Ancetol.” Because studying there demonstrated the confidence of the Royal family in their country’s educational system. From there, the lies weaved themselves from his lips, “Got an undergrad degree and started to take over the family business. I visited New York last year,” along with his father, the King, but they travelled as quietly as they could, initiating a state visit without disturbing the press, “I miss school, now that I’m thinking of it.” Ari sighed deeply, “Wanted to get a grad degree but work’s too busy.”

“A manager in your family business?” You teased him light-heartedly, “Surely you can spare the time and study for a grad degree.”

Ari chose to evade this question. Reaching for his suit pocket, he fished out a business card with his name (Guy Thomas) and phone number on it, handing it to you, “Grad school doesn’t exactly tolerate me flying all over the world for … my family business.” He pushed his soft brown hair behind his ears, his eyes sparkling with a hint of joy that he had successfully fooled you, “Jewelry, my specialty. Diamonds, pearls, gemstones … call me if you need anything.”

“Oh, and she got her Master’s degree two months ago.” Ari casually dropped this to his parents in the middle of having dinner, he almost felt proud of his future wife, “Majoring in Political Science and International Relations. With a merit… no, distinction. The top 10% of her class.”

“We want a princess, not a college professor.” His father looked rather disappointed, “We were promised a princess.”

Ari didn’t understand.

If it were to be a marriage without love, he’d rather his spouse would be clever than bimbos who need help spelling “distinction”. Clever would mean he has a handful to deal with, yes, but what’s the fun in talking with someone who only cares about mani-pedi and the latest fashion magazines when he would be running the country?

Why wouldn’t they want someone smart as his wife?

“Your father is right, Ari,” his mother, Queen Olivia, reminded him with a softer tone, “we don’t need someone academically outstanding. We only want her to care for your home, you, and your future children.” She then turned to Ari’s father, King Victor, with blame framing her tone, “Told you should’ve just kept her with us when she was born. I knew Y/L/Ns were incompetent in raising our son’s future wife.”

Ari nearly spat out his food, “HOUSEWIFE?” Earning the “Shhh” from the Queen, he ignored the palace rules and the rules of being a prince altogether, “You want a HOUSEWIFE as the future queen?”

“For the moment.” Olivia waved her hand as if all this was not important, “Only temporal. After you get acquainted with the Upper House, you could divorce her and we’ll find you a proper wife.”

Taglist: @irishhappiness @patzammit

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#ari levinson x reader #ari levinson x you #ari levinson x female reader #ari levinson smut #ari levinson fluff #prince!ari levinson #royalty au

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vanfleeter · 3 months ago

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Black Smoke: Chapter 8 - Green With Envy

Characters: Jake Kiszka x Fem!reader Warnings: 18+ as always. Fluff. Mentions of pregnancy. Angst. Insecurities. Anger. Jealousy. Arguments. Crying. Hurt feelings. Apologies. Flirting. Smut. Sexual acts. Penetrative sex. Oral sex (f receiving). Fingering. Nude photography.

Black Smoke Masterlist

The wind was chilly in the early morning, nearing four weeks after arriving home from Michigan. You adjusted the cap on your head after closing the trunk door of Jake’s jeep. Your stomach growls and you pout and whine. Jake peers around the corner of the jeep with his eyebrows creased together. “What are you whining about?”

“I’m hungry..” Shaking his head, he walks away and goes to the driver door. “Can we please stop and get some food on the way to the airport?” You ask when you climb into the jeep and close the door.

“We can eat when we get to the airport.” He says as he starts the engine. “We’re already running behind schedule.” You huff, making him chuckle and he puts the vehicle in reverse and drives off to the airport.

Making it to the airport and getting through security, Jake leads you through the crowded terminal and to your gate before dropping his backpack and yours to the floor. You hold out your hand, pouting your lip and he sighs rolling his eyes. “You literally ate this morning, how are you hungry again?” He says as he hands you his credit card. You simply shrug your shoulders and take the card from his hand. “Bring me back a coffee!” He calls as you’re walking away.

The second you step into the nearest cafe, you can smell the food cooking and it makes your stomach churn, but the food on the menu board looks really good. Ordering yourself a couple breakfast sandwiches and extra one for Jake just in case, you also order his coffee before making your way back through the terminal and to the spot where you had left him at the gate.

“Geez,” Jake chuckles when he spots the food in your hand and the two coffees.

“I hope it tastes better than smells,” You say as you pull out one of the sandwiches and hand it to him.

He cautiously sniffs it and shrugs his shoulders before pulling apart the wrapper and taking a bite. The action alone makes your stomach church again and you grimace at your own sandwich. Luckily it does taste better than it smells.

An hour passed and you were finally boarding the plane to head off to New York before boarding an international flight to London. By the early morning, the flight landed in London. Jake quickly dropped your stuff off the airport before taking a rental car to the studio.

“Mr. Kiszka!” The studio manager exclaims as he greets Jake with an open armed hug. He smiles widely at you. “And you must be the future Mrs. Kiszka,” He says, pulling you into a hug as well. “It is such a pleasure to be working with you, Mr. Kiszka. I’ve seen your work and it is absolutely amazing. I definitely believe you are the right fit to take on this job.”

“Thank you,” Jake says with a slight chuckle. You’ve learned since being with him that he sometimes gets a little flustered when complimented. It was something you found endearing.

“Well, let’s head on back and meet your model for these next few days,” The manager says as he begins to lead you through the studio and towards the back dressing rooms. Knocking on a door, a woman’s voice calls, allowing you to enter and he pushes the door to reveal the most gorgeous woman sitting on a chair in front of a large mirror while the makeup artist is dabbing on a little powder.

“Angelica, I would love to introduce you to Jake Kiszka. He’s going to be our photographer for the next few days for this shoot.”

Angelica smiles and excuses herself from the artist and stands up from the chair. If you were already insecure over just seeing her face, you’re definitely even more insecure when you see just how perfect her body is too. Perfectly sculpted body and toned abs. Surely Jake would find her attractive and that sends a nervous vibe through your body.

“Jake!” She smiles and immediately pulls him in for a hug. “I am so happy to be working with you! Oh I’ve seen your work and I have to say that it is phenomenal. When they told me you'd be the photographer for this shoot, I was so excited. Still am!”

Instinctively your eyebrows crease when you see his cheeks flush red and he stammers over his next sentence that falls from his mouth, “Th-Thank you Angelica. I’ve been looking through your portfolio to gain some idea of what seems to work best for you and I have to extend the same compliment. You’re very beautiful and you’re definitely right for this shoot.”

“Well thank you, Jake.” She giggles. Angelica’s attention turns to you and you can just tell the smile is fake as soon as she looks at you. “Hi! Oh my gosh, I’m being so rude. You must be Jake’s assistant.”

“Oh uh, no–”

“She’s my fiancée,” Jake interjects. “Angelica, meet (Y/N).”

“Oh! Fiancée! How exciting! Congratulations!”

“Well, we’ll let you finish getting ready while Jake gets his gear set up.”

“Of course! I’ll see you there!” Angelica gives Jake a wink before going back over to the chair and sitting down to finish getting her makeup down. Jake reaches for your hand and tugs you from the room.

He had been putting his camera together and changing the settings to ones he would need for the indoor portion of the shoot. “Okay, I am ready!” Angelica announces as she walks into the room. She dressed in a very revealing top and a pair of tight skinny jeans. You notice Jake glance up and fumble with the camera in his hands, nearly dropping. He clears his throat and awkwardly rubs the back of his neck. You thought your scoff was quiet but Jake heard because he’s turning to look at you.

“What?”

You shrug your shoulders and shake your head. “Nothing..” You say as you lean back in the chair that was provided for you.

“Jakey, how do I look?” Angelica calls as he fluffs her hair.

Jakey?

Who the fuck does she think is that she can him that?

“Jakey?” You mutter.

Jake shoots you a look. A warning look. He’s warning you? She’s the one trying to flirt with him and you get the warning look? If you weren’t starting to boil from jealousy already, you definitely are now.

“You look great,” Jake responds with his eyes still focused on you. You roll your eyes and cross your arms over your chest. “Do you mind getting seated on the couch? Make yourself comfortable.”

“Anything for you, Jakey.”

You resist the urge to roll your eyes when Jake’s eyes look back at you to make sure you weren’t doing anything wrong. You give him an innocent smile and he scoffs with a small smile tugging at the corner of his lips.

The whole shoot had you on edge. She would constantly call him ‘Jakey’, occasionally calling him ‘Sir’ and giggling when his cheeks flushed red. When he’d go up to fix her hair in the way he wanted it to look, she’d take that as an opportunity to fidget with the pendants on his necklace and compliment him on how cool they are after he explains which one is.

Is he purposely doing this to get under your skin? To test how far he can let this go before you explode?

He did catch you a few times rolling your eyes and sending you the same warning look. “Would you stop it?” He says coming up to you after calling for a break.

“Stop what?”

“Stop rolling your eyes–”

“Well–”

“And stop scoffing–”

“But–”

“None of her flirting means anything.”

“Tell that to your red cheeks, Jake.”

“You’re embarrassing me, stop it.”

Woah. Pause. Did he.. You’re embarrassing him? “Wow..” You breathe as you slide out of the chair. “This has gone from a photoshoot to flat out flirting. She’s always calling you ‘Jakey’, gross. And ‘Sir’? I’m sorry but there’s one person who can call you that, and that person is me.”

“(Y/N), it means nothing to me.”

“Well tell that to your dick,” You whisper-yell to him. “You think it isn’t noticeable? Gosh, Jake, you fucking fumbled your camera when she came out dressed in that outfit.”

Jake takes a deep breath, closing his eyes, and exhaling. “Go back to the hotel.”

“What?”

“I said, go back to the hotel. You’ve been so rude all morning and I’m tired of it.”

“I’m being rude?” You shake your head and grab your coat and purse. “Have you seen the way she talks down to me? It’s so condescending and you haven’t even noticed. But whatever, I guess I’m the one being rude.”

“Just go and take a nap. You’ve been up for so long and it’s making you crabby.” He reaches into his pocket and pulls out the key for the rental car. “Here, take the car.”

“What about you?”

“I’ll get a taxi or something after we wrap up.” He gives you a kiss on the forehead and a light tap on your ass. “We’ll talk after I get back and after you’ve slept.”

Getting back to the hotel and up to the room, you toss your things onto the couch before going into the bedroom where you proceed to change into something more comfier. Standing in front of the mirror, you slowly lift up your shirt to look at your midsection. How can you compete with her? She has the perfect body and she’s fucking beautiful. Why wouldn’t he be attracted to her?

Of course he’s attracted to her, he got fucking hard just looking at her. He hasn’t felt that way towards you since the two of you got back to Nashville. He hasn’t even touched you since either. When was the last time you two were ever intimate? Was it really in his old bedroom at his parents’ house?

You didn’t realize you were crying until you looked up in the mirror. Your eyes grow red and your chin wobbles. Pulling your shirt back down, you turn away from the mirror and walk over to your suitcase to retrieve your earbuds. Music might be a good distraction and get your mind off of today.

It was nearly midnight in London by the time Jake finally came back to the hotel. And suddenly you are sent down the road of jealousy and anger when you see him as he walks into the bedroom. You give him a short glance before going back to scroll through social media on your phone.

“I figured your nap would have made you feel a little better.” He says as he sits on the edge of the bed and takes off his shoes.

“I’m not tired, if that’s what you mean..” You say, not taking your eyes away from your phone. “Did she flirt with you any more after I left?”

“(Y/N)..” Jake sighs.

“Well did she?”

His shoulders drop and he turns to face you. “Yes..” Your only response was a simple nod of your head. “It means nothing.. How many times do I have to tell you that?”

“Until your dick stops hardening for her.”

“Would you knock it off?!” He finally shouts as he stands to his feet.

“I’m sorry, Jake! But it hurts, you know.” You toss your phone down on the bed and stare at him. “You seem so attracted to her.”

“But I’m not!”

“Yes you are, Jake.” You sigh. “And it’s fine, I get it. I don’t look like her. She’s fucking beautiful and her body..”

“Baby,” Jake kneels onto the bed and crawls over to you, his face just centimeters from your face. “You are beautiful.”

“But I don’t have her body, Jake.”

“So?” He rested back on his knees with his hands laying on his thighs. “Why does it matter if you have her body or not? I love your body.” Your bottom lip quivers and you lower your chin. “Hey look at me.” He says as he reaches towards you and lifts your chin back up. “Why would you think such a thing?”

“Because..” Your voice is shaky. “The way you looked at her today.. You haven’t looked at me like that since we got back from Michigan.”

“Just because you don’t see me looking at you, doesn’t mean that I’m not ever looking at you.”

“We’ve not been intimate either..”

“I have no excuse, really..” He sighs. “But that doesn’t mean I’m not still attracted to you. So what if you don’t have a supermodel’s body. I still love you.” He reaches for your arms and pulls you onto his lap. “You’re still so beautiful to me.” He gives you kisses before leaving a trail of them down your neck.

“Jake..”

“Shh..”

“Jake, stop..” You push away from him, crawling off his lap and moving away from him. “I don’t want pity sex..”

“Pity sex?” He questions. “Is that what you think it was going to be?”

“Yes, because you feel sorry and I don’t want to feel like you have to have sex me because I said that. I want you to have sex with me because you want to and because I’m sexy.”

“But I do want to.”

“No, you don’t..”

“Baby, yes I do!” He crawls over to the edge of the bed and holds your face in his hands. “I always want to have sex with you!”

Tears escape down your cheeks and you push him away again. “Then why haven’t you for the last month, Jake?! But the second Angelica steps out in that top revealing her boobs and her jeans were so tight, you were totally into that! She turned you on, dammit! I haven’t done that to you in weeks!” More tears fell down your cheeks. “How can we get married when I don’t make you feel like that anymore?”

“(Y/N), I’m sorry that I ever made you feel this way..” He tries to reach for you again but you take a step back. “(Y/N)..”

“Just go find Angelica.. At least you won’t pity her..” You quickly go into the bathroom and close the door behind you and twist the lock.

Geez, why do you have to be so emotional? You’ve never cried this much. Leaning against the sink, you slowly rock back and forth as you breathe in deeply and exhaling at a slow pace. And your anger? Jealousy? You’ve never been jealous because you’ve never had a reason to be jealous.

A gentle knock sounds on the door before Jake speaks. “(Y/N).. I’m sorry.. I-I don’t know what I’m supposed to do, but I want to make you feel better. I want to fix this. Please open the door.” He went quiet for a minute or two before speaking again. “I want to make love to you, and not out of pity. I want to make love to you because I do love you. I really do. I want to kiss you in all the right places, I want to touch you until you’re squirming beneath me. Please let me prove to you that I love you.”

Wiping your hands across your face, you go over to the door and unlock it before pulling it open. He stands there with the most sorrowful look that you’d ever seen on his face. He doesn’t move as you wrap your arms around his torso and rest your head against his chest. Slowly he moves his arms around you and holds you close.

“I’m sorry..” You whimper. “I don’t know what’s wrong with me..”

“It’s okay..” Jake says as he rubs his hand up and down your back.

“Jake?”

“Hm?”

You lift your head to look at him. “I love you.”

He smiles and raises his hand to your face to brush your hair behind your ear. “I love you too.” He moves slightly closer, his lips just barely brushing against yours. “Can I kiss you?” He asks.

“Yes..”

He smiles before he presses his lips to yours. Wrapping your arms around his neck, you press your body closer to his as the kissing begins to heat up. His hands find their way back to your waist and he rests them on your hips before he’s pressing your body up against his. Bending slightly, he picks you up off the floor and sets you on his waist and carries you back to the bed where he lays you down.

He pulls away from you long enough to remove his shirt before kissing you again. You can feel him growing hard beneath the fabric of his jeans and he grinds himself against your core. With your permission, he slowly addresses you and kisses every inch of your body as he goes.

As much as he desires to bring you pleasure, he longs to make love to you even more. He settles himself between your legs and kisses you before pushing himself inside of you. You gasp from the sting, fully aware of how long the two of you have not been like this. He moves slowly, allowing you ample time to adjust to him again.

“Jake..”

“(Y/N)..”

“I think I might be pregnant..”

He slows his pace before coming to a stop and he props himself up just enough to really look at you. “What makes you think that?”

“Just a feeling..” You say. “I’ve never been this emotional before.. And the airport? The food made me so queasy. And then suddenly I'm a raging, jealous bitch only to burst into tears and feel so bad.. I’m supposed to get my period in a couple days but.. If I’m late..”

“Then let’s hope you are.”

“If I am, are you for sure okay with that?”

“Of course I am,” He leans to kiss you before gently thrusting his hips forward.

He starts to move again, still gentle but passionate. Soon he’s bringing the both of you to your climaxes. The warm feeling takes over your body as you feel the two of you melding together. He’s resting his head on your shoulder, him breathing heavily as you softly run your fingers through his hair. When the two of you relax, he carefully pulls out of you and goes off to the bathroom to retrieve a wet washcloth to clean you both off.

He can’t help but to kiss way down your leg when he finishes and tosses the cloth off the side, no doubt that he’ll probably be using it again here shortly. Making it to your inner thigh on your right leg, he sets it back down on the bed before starting on your left leg. He licks his tongue through your folds, earning a light gasp from you. He looks up to find you looking down at him with your teeth sunk into your bottom lip. He smiles and places a kiss to your still sensitive clit before he kisses his way up your body. Coming up your abdomen and to the valley your breasts, he pauses and pulls away slightly.

He puts on his thinking and rubs his chin with his index finger and thumb. “Hmmm..” He hums. “Which one do I want?” He shrugs shoulders and leans back down to envelope your right nipple in his mouth while he palms your left one in his hand and gently massages it.

He leaves your left breast and slides his hand down your body, first squeezing your hip and then dipping his hand between your legs. Though he probably could have done this first, he missed being intimate with you just as much as you had, so he couldn't help but dive straight into the fucking. Or love making, actually.

And he’ll do it again too. To hell with the foreplay. He loves being shoved so deep inside of you and nudging all the right places just so he can hear those little sounds you make when he does.

He pauses the circular motion of his fingers on your clit and releases your right breast from his mouth. Pulling away completely, he climbs off the bed and goes over to his things on the other side of the room and retrieves his personal camera.

“For my eyes only,” He says as he turns it on.

Instantly popping up, the last photo he took with his camera was one of you that he snapped without you noticing. You were fully naked and walking in the direction away from the camera. Your arms were raised as you were stretching and lifting your hair just slightly. He zoomed in on your ass, biting his bottom lip as he stared at the red hand print visible from when he smacked your ass as he pounded himself into you. That was the night before the two of you took off for Paris. After coming home late that night, he still felt a little twinge of remorse for missing the dinner date and he knew presenting you with the trip to Paris was not going to fully make up for it. So he fucked you, there was no love making it. He did everything to pleasure you, even when you begged him to be rough on you.

You missed him so much then as much as he missed you. He remembers having you on your hands and knees and he was railing himself into you, not worried about the pain you might be in the next day. He was fully prepared to have to carry you around if he needed to. The smack of his palm against your ass has the blood rushing to his cock.

But he’s being pulled from that memory when he hears you calling his name and the warmth of your hand enveloping his cock. “Are you looking at her photos?”

“If by her, you mean you? Then yes.” He turns the camera to face you showing the naked photo of you. He winks at you and kisses your forehead. “That night was amazing.” He pulls away from you, the warmth of your hand leaving his cock as he sinks down to the mattress and spreads his legs. “Pop a squat.” When you have yourself straddling his waist, he looks into the mirror and adjusts your legs around his body until he has them just the way he wants them. “Perfect.”

He lays your head on his shoulder and moves your hair to the right spot. When he is satisfied with how the two of you look in the mirror, he brings his camera up, blocking both of your faces with it, and snapping a few photos.

“We look so good together,” He says as he looks through the photos. He lowers the camera and looks at you. “You are stunning and I couldn’t be luckier.”

“You mean that?”

“Of course I do,” He pecks your lips and sets his camera off to the side as he deepens the kiss. “And if you are pregnant? I would definitely be the luckiest man in the world.” He topples you both over and reaches above you to flick off the lamp.

______________________________________________________________

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#black smoke #photographer!jake #jake kiszka #greta van fleet #greta van fleet fic #greta van fleet fanfic #jake kiszka fanfic #jake kiszka fic #jake kiszka smut #gvf

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imaginesbymonika · 18 days ago

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From the dining table | Part 8

Pairing: Damon Albarn × Gallagher! Reader

Plot: Everyone's favorite topic during the '90s and 'OOs; Y/N Gallagher. The mysterious and beautiful younger sister of the two loud brothers rarely spoke during interviews but played the guitar like no one else. And even though she never said a word about her dating-life, the list of her rumored boyfriends kept growing longer with each passing year. Yet, there was one name in particular that just kept on popping up...

Previous part | Masterlist

(1999)

Y/N stares at him from her spot at their table. The Marlboro cigarette between her fingers is burning down on its own. She lost interest in smoking a few minutes ago anyway. She couldn’t care less. Damon meanwhile is slowly swaying while singing into the microphone.

“Take me away from this big bad world and agree to marry me. So we can start over again.”, his smooth and delicate voice cracks while her upper lip twitches. He sings in a manner that’s almost identical to how he used to speak to her in their bedroom. Y/N hears how her two brothers are giggling at his mistake while she quickly licks her lips. Finally, she brings the nearly finished cigarette back up to her lips. She notices the ashes on the tablecloth and quickly wipes them away, leaving behind a black stain.

“Oh we can start over again.”

A pained sigh leaves her lips as she tries her best to clean up the mess she made, however, the more she moves her hand over the fabric the bigger the stain gets. This could be used as a metaphor in a song. She makes a mental note to talk to Noel about it later.

„Oh we can start over again.“

Damon has to be joking, right? There’s no fucking way in hell he’s meaning any of that shit. Maybe he didn’t even write it. A deep and hurt scoff leaves her lips. He never even picked up the phone when she made an effort to phone him. She wanted to make up. She didn’t want to fight. She wanted to tell him that she was more than okay to go public with him; screw her stupid brothers. They’re always out and cheating on their girlfriends anyway- what do they know about love? Nothing! That’s right. Nothing.

“Y/N?”, Liam asks and wrinkles his eyebrows. His eyes are observing her hand and he tilts his head in confusion. But the second he glances at her face and notices the tears in her eyes the smile on his lips fades away:” Shit, birdie. What’s wrong with ya?”

Y/N wants Damon. She wants him so bad, it physically crushes her. God, when she looks at him she can virtually see the claw marks she has left behind on his soul. But now, what difference would any declaration of truth make? His girlfriend is pregnant. You can’t turn back time.

(2024)

Y/N yawns while laying her head on her assistant's shoulder. It’s 4 am; their plane is leaving in 2 hours. As much as she adores London, she always misses the seaside the second she leaves it. “You want to grab breakfast on our way?”, Max asks and she looks up at the man with a smile on her face. “That’s why I pay you. God, you’re smart.” He only laughs at that.

“You can wait at the hall while I do the checkout.”, Max says while they both step out of the elevator. Y/N only nods while pulling her suitcase behind her.

“No, I am not leaving!” “Sir, please. You’ve been here since midnight. Don’t make us call the authorities!” “I don’t care, call ‘em. I am not leaving!”

Y/N wrinkles her forehead as she walks around the corner. Only to see Damon Albarn having a heated discussion with a staff member of the hotel. She stops dead in her tracks. What the fuck is he doing here?

Damon rolls his eyes and looks away. However, once he does he meets Y/N’s gaze. He instantly improves his posture “Sir?”, the woman in front of him asks but he merely shakes his head.

“I’ve found what I am looking for.”

#damon albarn imagine #damon albarn x reader #damon albarn #blur x reader #blur band #blur #oasis band #oasis

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jai-lovely · 5 months ago

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Withered Evelynn

____________________________________________

Warnings: Mentions of cigarette/ smoke, explosives, Merle, please tell me if I missed any

Father figure Daryl dixon x oc

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As she taps her fingers nervously against her thighs, Evelynn watches her brother rub his chin in frustration. "Gil?" her voice comes out quieter than she expected, but none of the less he turned his head to look at her.

"Hm?" He only looks at her for a second before quickly looking away back to the road, which is full of cars, of everyone that that's trying to leave the hectic city "what bout mama? Do ya think she got out?" Looking over to him only to see his face immediately fall, turning to a bitter look.

Gillian clenches the steering wheel before opening his mouth to speak only to cut himself off, "how bout you go play with those kids up there for a bit yeah? Let me think for a bit" he says his voice filled with stress. Evelynn looks at her older brother, before looking out the window to see the kids he was talking about.

With a sigh she opens the truck door and hops out making sure to grab her backpack. Closing the truck door she looks at her brother one more time, seeing him nod, and shrugging her backpack on before turning and walking over to the kids, with her bright Pink backpack shining from all the headlights.

There was two kids playing chess in the back of a vehicle, one was a girl, she looked a bit older than Evelynn, but that didn't matter to the younger girl, as long as she was nice. The older looking girl had short blonde hair to her ears, and was holding a fabric doll in her lap, she seemed to be a little nervous, can't blame her though. Across from her was a boy, he seemed to be the same age as Evelynn, just shorter. He had brown hair that was kinda overgrown onto his ears, and a bunch of freckles, he doesn't seem nervous though, more bored, can't blame him for that either.

Before Evelynn could realize she was staring, a woman with a buzz cut saw her and smiled, waving her over. The younger girls face flushed a light pink, realizing she had been caught , but put her head down a bit as she walked over.

The lady with a buzz cut was nice, Evelynn learned that her name was Carol, and the girl with the short blonde hair was her daughter, Sophia. While the younger boys name was Carl, and his mama is well, never asked about that so don't really know.

Carl was really talkative, known him for like five minutes and he already knows both of her favourite colours and her birthday. Sophia was quiet, it's nice actually, she just holds her doll in her arms, "do you like frogs?" The boy named Carl asked her, Evelynn screwed up her face a bit, 'what an odd question' she thought, "uhm, I guess but their real slimy, I don't like to touch'em" he frowns a bit at that but nods before letting out a quiet 'cool'.

Evelynn opens her mouth to ask if he likes frogs, but her voice suddenly gets cut off by really loud noises over head. Looking up to the sky Evelynn sees a bunch of planes flying just above the tress, heading towards the city. ' The city, ain't that where all the sick people are?' She asks herself, loud bangs bring her out of her thoughts. Evelynns eyes widen as the ground shakes a bit from the explosions "their bombing the city" a women with long brown hair says, as she jogs to where we are, a buff guy following right behind her.

The woman walks over to Carl bringing him into her arms, guessing that's his mama. The brown haired woman looks over to me, her eyes squinting in confusion.

Carol notices her expression "this is Evelynn" she gestures her hand to the young girl, "Evelynn this is Lori, Carls mom" with a quick nod towards the young girl, Lori turns to look at the man behind her, only for him to walk off, strange.

Evelynn feels someone's hand on her shoulder, and quickly whips her head around to see who was touching her. It turned out to be Gillian, his hand on her shoulder loosened a bit but still a firm grip.

"Yall the group that's going up to the quarry?" Gillian suddenly speaks, loud enough from just the group of people to hear. Lori looks at him, her brows furrowing, "how do ya know about that" she says sitting beside her son. Gillian looks back at his truck before looking at Lori, "your buddy, Shane? I think that's his name, but I guess he saw I was with Eve, and invited us" he shrugs.

Lori nods "there's a few others that are gonna be going, just follow the Rv, we're gonna be leaving in a minute". Gillian nods "Roger that", and before Evelynn could process what was happening, her and Gillian were walking back to the truck. On their way back, they pass another truck, with two guys with matching vests, 'kinda reminds me of friendship bracelets' she thought. Evelyn began to cough a little while walking past them, all cigarette smoke clouding around them. While she covers her nose with the collar of her shirt, she sees the older looking man chuckle, before putting the cancer stick back in between his lips.

The truck doors slam, as the pair gets into the vehicle. Evelynn takes off her backpack putting it on the floor of the truck, and before the young girl realized the truck was started, and the duo were trailing behind the big crème color Rv.

————————————————————————

Tell me if u would like to be added to a tag list!

AHHHHH first chapter!!! I hope you guys liked it, I've been procrastinating making a twd story lol

Feel free to give me feedback in the comments

Thank you for reading Withered Evelynn

#daryl dixon x teen!reader #daryl dixon x daughter reader #daryl dixon #twd fanfic #the walking dead #oc #my ocs

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ayyy-pee · 2 years ago

Text

Strangers in Love

Chapter 8 - Malaysia

Discord 18+ - Twitter - Kofi

Series Masterlist

Pairing: Nanami Kento x Female Reader

Summary: You did it. You and Kento have rekindled your romance, gotten to know each other again. Things couldn't be better. It's been a few years now, you and Kento saving up just for this moment. Now it's time to really enjoy each other.

Genre: Divorced to Lovers AU

Warnings: Smut, Vaginal Sex, Jealousy, Jealous Behavior, Divorce, Unprotected Sex, Cunnilingus (vaginal), Implied sex, Creampie, Arguments, Ex-Husband Nanami Kento

Art by: K

“Ladies and gentlemen, welcome onboard Flight 380 with service from Tokyo, Japan to Kuala Lumpur, Malaysia. We are currently second in line for take-off and are expected to be in the air in approximately seven minutes time. We ask that you please fasten your seatbelts at this time and secure all baggage beneath your seat or in the overhead compartments. We also ask that your seats and table trays are in the upright position for take-off. Please turn off all personal electronic devices, including laptops and cell phones. Smoking is prohibited for the duration of the flight. Thank you for choosing Malaysia Airlines. Enjoy your flight.”

You stretch your legs out, sighing at the spaciousness as you relax into your seat. The large cabin you share leaves you more room than you know what to do with. You’ve never been on a flight this nice before. It was usually a coach seat for you, struggling to shove your carry-on into the overhead compartment and trying your best not to smother the stranger in the middle seat with your ass.

This time was different.

This time, you splurged on first-class and all of the amenities that came with it: free drinks, nice meals, seats that had so much room they could convert into private beds, the works. You splurged on luxury because you deserved it.

“Comfortable?” A familiar, deep voice asks next to you.

You glance over to the blonde man beside you and grin. This long awaited trip was finally happening and you couldn’t contain your happiness. Leaning over, he meets you halfway as you press your lips to his. He hums into the kiss, his large hand coming up to rest on the back of your neck and pull you closer. All you can think about is how you can’t wait for this adventure you’d be on after this long plane ride to Malaysia with your lover, Kento.

“So comfortable. I’m so glad we waited a little longer to save up a bit more for these seats,” you say, kissing him once more before pulling away. You lean back into your chair. “This is going to be the best flight I’ve ever had.”

“Agreed,” the man brings his hand down to hold yours in your lap. “And the best trip. I’m glad we’re finally doing this.”

“Me too, Ken,” You giggle to yourself. “It only took what? Like ten years and a divorce?”

Nanami chuckles beside you, nodding and giving your hand a gentle squeeze, “Well worth the wait, love.”

You and Nanami have been dating for about four years now and everything has been great. Of course you have your ups and your downs, arguing every now and then, but it’s a complete 180 from your marriage. You’ve moved in together again, the apartment feeling like a blend of both you and Kento. You have Friday dinner where you cook together (well, mostly Kento), you sit down for the week and you make sure to talk, really talk about your days, anything new and your feelings.

Work no longer interrupted your routines. Nanami was sure to take a few days off a month to spend time with you and to simply relax. On those days, you took short trips outside of Tokyo to smaller towns to explore. You tried new foods, drinks, took part in activities you would have never experienced when you and Nanami were together the first time.

Things feel familiar and new all at the same time. Kento is so differentt…in a good way. You’re happy.

The flight attendant makes his way down the aisle, checking passengers and their belongings. He nods curtly to you and Nanami as he moves along.

“What do you want to do once we’ve arrived?” Nanami questions, checking his seatbelt and adjusting his neck pillow, then doing the same for you. You roll your eyes playfully, shooing his hand away. Since you’d resumed dating, Nanami was more protective of you than he’d ever been before. He walked you to the train station daily, met you outside of your office after work, checked in with you when either of you were out to be sure you were safe. It was cute. A much appreciated change from him.

“Well, we need to stay up and fight the jetlag so we can…” you hum quietly, mentally kicking yourself for not letting Nanami build an itinerary like he’d wanted.

“Should’ve let me build an itinerary,” he mumbles next to you. He reaches into his pants to pull his phone out of the pocket, leaning over to show you his screen.

“You built an itinerary, didn’t you?”

“Not an itinerary,” he corrects. “Just a few places I thought you may enjoy the few days we’re in Kuala Lumpur before we head to Kuantan.”

Nanami’s phone vibrates in his hands, a notification from an unsaved number rolling down on his screen. He sits back, pulling his phone away, fingers quickly moving across his screen before he switches his phone off and places it back into his pocket. He clears his throat quietly and you don’t miss how the tips of his ears are suddenly a bright red.

Strange, but you don’t think too much of it.

“What was that?” You ask, trying not to sound suspicious.

“Hmm?” Nanami plays dumb. “Oh, nothing important.”

You can see the way Nanami’s jaw ticks as he turns his head to look out the window. He’s thinking hard, likely debating on if he wants to tell you what the text says. You don’t want to pry though. Nanami is a shy man, no matter how confident he came across to others. When he was ready to confide in you, he would.

“Alright,” you tell him. “Let’s go over the list, then. See what we’re going to do when we get there since it’ll be pretty late.”

The plane bell rings throughout the cabin. You and Nanami look on as the flight attendants line the row and go over the safety instructions. Once they’ve finished, they take their seats. Shortly after, you feel the plane begin to speed up, faster and faster until you feel the wheels lift off of the ground.

Nanami has his fingers laced through yours, squeezing subtly as he watches the plane cruise higher and higher into the air.

Another cabin ding.

“Good afternoon passengers. This is your captain speaking. I'd like to welcome everyone on Flight 380. We are currently cruising at an altitude of 33,000 feet at an airspeed of 400 miles per hour. The time is 12:25 pm. Weather looks good and with the tailwind on our side we are expecting to land in Kuala Lumpur approximately fifteen minutes ahead of schedule. The weather in Kuala Lumpur is clear and sunny, with a high of 30 degrees celsius or about 86 degrees fahrenheit for this afternoon. If the weather cooperates we should get a great view of the city as we descend. Cabin crew will be coming around in about twenty minutes to offer you a light snack and beverage. Until then, sit back, relax and enjoy the rest of the flight.”

Nanami lowers the window shade, leaning his head back against his seat.

“Actually, will you mind if I sleep for a bit?” He asks, voice already dripping with exhaustion. You giggle quietly next to him. Nanami - ever the planner - had hardly slept the night before in anticipation of this trip. He packed and unpacked his bag, your bag. He’d probably redone his secret itinerary over and over to make sure it was perfect. You’d taken trips together in your “new” time together. He’d taken you to Sendai to meet his old colleagues and friends from his time living there after your divorce. You’d traveled to Kyoto together for his company’s Christmas party. Even then, you’d never seen Nanami so all over the place before traveling.

“Of course, Ken. Get some rest. We can talk plans later.”

It takes only a few minutes before you hear Nanami’s light snores next to you. You can’t stop the small smile spreading across your face as you close your own eyes. You were finally on your way to Malaysia together. You hoped this trip was everything you both wished for it to be.

It doesn’t take long for you to let sleep take you as well, jetlag be damned, your fingers still intertwined with Nanami.

----------

When you land at the airport, Nanami collects both your bags before you head to pick up your rental car. You’re sitting in the front seat as he drives, carefully glancing at his phone where the navigation directs him.

“I’m so hungry,” you whine dramatically next to him. He chuckles.

“I tried to wake you up when the stewardess came by. You wouldn’t budge.” He exits the highway.

“You could’ve waved a carrot under my nose and I would’ve woken up. I’m starving.”

Nanami laughs loudly at this, a laugh from deep within his chest. And your cheeks heat up even after all this time. Because hearing Nanami laugh like that is so rare…and reserved only for you. The sound makes you relax, a smile plastered to your face as you sit back in your seat and enjoy the rest of the ride.

When you arrive at the hotel, it’s early in the night. The moon is high in the sky as you enter the lobby and Nanami takes the lead, checking you both in and carrying your bags to your room. The room is nice, a large and luxurious suite. Nanami really splurged when he made the reservation.

There’s a dining table with a beautiful, large bouquet of tropical flowers in the center, a gorgeous mix of red and yellow petals and long green leaves. You’d never seen anything like it.

“Wow, this is the nicest place I’ve ever stayed in,” you say in awe while Nanami moves past you to the suite’s bedroom. He sets your things down and stretches before taking a seat on the bed. He’s on his phone while you wander into the bedroom after him, looking through the suite. There’s a small bar cart next to the large balcony doors with an empty glass and bottle of smoked whiskey sitting atop, no doubt for Nanami. He does love a glass before winding down for the night.

You peer out into the night, the city of Kuala Lumpur still active. The skyline is lit with a beautiful array of white, golds and blues. The Menara Kuala Lumpur is lit a gorgeous shade of purple. And it hits you that you’ve finally made it to Malaysia with Nanami Kento of all people. You would have never guessed you’d end up here. There’s a strange feeling beginning to form inside you and it’s making you emotional. You can feel the sting of tears in your eyes before Nanami’s voice pulls you back to him.

“It’s a little late, but would you like to get some food? There’s a night street market nearby with plenty of options to choose from.”

You subtly wipe your eyes, turning to face your boyfriend. “Yes! Let’s go.”

----------

The market is not insanely busy, which is nice. After hours of sitting on the plane, you were eager to stretch your legs. Less people meant less standing around struggling to maneuver through a crowd.

Nanami squeezes your hand next to you as you walk together, grabbing your attention.

“Anything specific you’re craving?” He asks, eyes scanning the different stands and their options.

You hum, looking around. “I’m open to trying new things. I mean, when’s the next time we’ll be in Malaysia?”

“That is true,” Nanami agrees as he comes to a stop in front of a stand. There are so many options here, you think you may be able to try all Malaysian cuisine in just this one spot. The worker is friendly, smiling patiently as you both weigh your options.

“I think I’m going to try the char kuey teow,” Nanami decides, pointing up at the menu. The worker repeats the order, nodding as he writes it down. He then looks at you, waiting.

“I think I’ll do the…” you shift your weight on your feet, taking another second to choose. “Okay, I think I’m going to do the satay and the rojak.”

Nanami tells the worker your order, the worker nodding and taking his payment. He waves you over to a set of tables next to the booth to sit and wait. You sit next to each other, Nanami’s hand never leaving yours.

“Do you know what you ordered?” Nanami asks, to which you laugh.

“No, but I did say I’m open to trying new things.” Nanami nods, smiling softly. You catch the glint of humor in his eyes and you have to ask: “Why? Do you know what you ordered?”

“Definitely not,” he snorts, chuckling. You lean your head against his shoulder, laughing harder than before.

One thing you enjoyed about your second time around dating Nanami was his openness and his ability to allow himself to let go. Even before the divorce, he had a hard time simply letting himself enjoy the little things. You were glad to see this had changed.

The stand worker brings your plates over and sets everything down. You both thank him graciously as you look your dishes over.

Your first plate - the satay - consists of chicken skewers. It’s beautifully seasoned and grilled to perfection, the steam carrying the delicious smell to your nose in soft waves. Your second plate looks to be an arrangement of fruits and vegetables, a salad of sorts. You fork through the dish, seeing pineapples, mangoes, apples and even star fruits. The dish is topped with a sticky, sweet and spicy sauce, sugar, chillies and peanuts. It smells amazing.

Nanami’s plate consists of flat rice noodles stir-fried with shrimp, chinese sausage, eggs and bean sprouts in a mix of soy sauce. His plate also smells incredible and you reach over and grab a fork full and take a bite. It’s delicious, so flavorful you think you might cry.

Nanami rolls his eyes. “Now what’s the point of you ordering your own food if you’re just going to eat mine?”

“Hey! I said I was open to trying new things!” You pout, sliding your plates over to him as well. “I was going to share with you, too.”

“I’m teasing, love. I don’t mind.” He leans over and presses a kiss to your lips. “I want you to try everything. And I want to try everything with you.”

You smile as Nanami kisses you again before he tries a bite of his meal. He practically moans when the flavors burst in his mouth.

“It’s good, right?” You ask, taking a fork full of your salad and holding it up to his mouth. Nanami nods.

“These flavors are incredible. I don’t know what it is…maybe the shallots? They make all the flavors pop. Not to mention that bit of heat from the red chilies. I’ll absolutely be making this for dinner when we get back home.”

You giggle as he takes a bite of your salad. “You’re such a food nerd. I swear you should’ve been a chef after we graduated.”

Nanami shakes his head, again relishing in the flavors of your salad. “I only enjoy cooking for you.”

He resumes eating his food, but you’re staring at him, eyes wide as a result of his honesty. You had never realized it before, but Nanami truly never cooked for anyone but you. When having friends over, you typically ordered takeout. He really reserved the love he poured into making food for you only. The thought makes your heart pound hard against your ribcage.

“Love, you okay?” Nanami asks, reaching a hand up to cup your cheek so he can turn your head to look at him. Those brown eyes are filled with concern for you. And so much love. He loves you so much, it practically radiates off of him.

“Yes,” you reply. “I’m just thinking about how happy I am to be here with you.”

And Nanami gives you that shy smile you’re so familiar with, something else he saves just for you, before he kisses you softly.

“I love you, baby,” he whispers. Even with the hustle and bustle of the street market, you hear it loud and clear.

“I love you.”

----------

The sun beams through the balcony doors of the hotel room. The room feels much too warm. It makes Nanami peel back the blankets for a hint of relief. It’s only then he realizes it’s not the blankets making him too warm, or the room temperature. He peers down, finding you latched onto his side. You’re sleeping peacefully and Nanami can’t help but drink in your beauty, how lucky he is to witness how stunning you are. Nanami always thinks you’re a sight to behold, but you’re ethereal beneath the glow of the Malaysian sun.

He brings a hand up, gently caressing your cheek. He knows he should begin his day; maybe go for a run in the hotel’s gym, have his coffee and wake you, but part of him wants to just lie with you a little longer. He opts to stay in bed.

On the bedside table, Nanami’s phone buzzes with a text message. He carefully reaches for it, reading the message over and sighing.

Unknown: what are u doing now?

Nanami: Getting ready for the day.

Nanami: I told you not to text me while I’m here. She’ll get suspicious.

Unknown: K so u haven’t told her yet

Nanami rolls his eyes, sends one last message.

Nanami: Don’t text me again.

He puts his phone back on the bedside table after setting it to Do Not Disturb. You begin to stir against him.

“Who’s texting you so early in the morning?” You grumble against his side.

“No one important,” he tells you. He places a kiss to the top of your head. “We should start getting ready, love. We have a lot to do today.”

You groan, whining about how tired you still are as you turn away from him to hide your face in your pillow. Nanami chuckles lightly.

“Okay. You get a little more rest. I’ll get ready and come back for you in a bit?”

You mumble in agreement, your light snores coming shortly after your answer.

Nanami climbs out of the bed, heading to the closet in the suite. He fishes around for his workout clothes and shoes before quickly changing. He’ll let you get more sleep. You’re probably jetlagged anyway. He has a fun day planned for you and he wants you to be well rested.

Before heading out to run, Nanami makes a call downstairs to room service. He orders breakfast to be delivered for you both in the next hour, which gives him time to complete his workout and make it back to shower.

----------

When Nanami returns, you’re already up. He stands in the living room area just in time to catch you getting out of the shower and entering the bedroom.

“Hey,” you greet him, coming into the main room. You’ve got that gorgeous smile he loves so much spread wide across your face.

“Hey,” he says back, and he fears the tips of his ears are glowing red. You look so good right now, all fresh faced and wrapped in a towel. Again, you’re always stunning but wow. Is it Malaysia that’s making you look like an absolute vision? Nanami can’t pull his gaze from you.

“Kento? You okay?” You ask, adjusting the towel wrapped around you as you step forward. “You’re staring.”

His eyes zero in on your smooth skin, the water droplets cascading down your shoulders and between the valley of your breasts. The way your beautiful lips part as you await his response. How that towel you have wrapped around yourself is barely hanging on and it would take little effort from Nanami to remove it, letting him see every bit of you in all your glory. He can’t bear to be away from you a second longer.

Nanami is aware that he should shower. That he should wash away all the sweat and grime from his workout, but he can’t take his eyes off of you or the way that thin towel hugs all of your dips and curves. The way the scent of your body wash assaults his senses. And before he knows it, he’s crossing the distance of the suite until he’s got your face between his hands and his mouth is crashing into yours.

The kiss is dizzying, all tongue and teeth. A mix of mint, your lipgloss and his sweat. The taste makes Nanami moan into your open mouth. Your arms wrap around his neck, not caring about pressing your body to his sweaty form.

Nanami’s hand glides down your cheek, down your neck and your chest until his fingers find the top of your towel. He hooks a finger under and pulls, the towel loosening and falling quickly to the floor. And then one of his hands is cupping your breast, pulling moan after moan from you as his callous hand runs over your hardening nipple.

With a quiet whimper, you break the kiss to lean back and look at Nanami, eyes blown with lust. “Kento,” you pant. “Not that I don’t love this aggressive side of you, but are you okay?”

Nanami leans down, pressing kisses to your neck. You tilt your head to the side to give him more access. “I’m amazing, love. I just can’t believe we’re here.” He licks along your collarbone, his large hands running down your back until they find your ass. He squeezes, pulling your hips against him and you moan when you feel the evidence of his arousal.

His lips are back on yours soon as he moves you both backwards until your back is pressed against the dining table in the center of the room. He cups your ass and lifts you onto the surface and he’s thankful that he moved the flowers last night and that room service hasn’t been delivered yet.

He pulls away from you, peering down at you through half-lidded eyes. Your lips are kiss swollen and Nanami brings a hand up so he can run his thumb across them.

“I love you. You know that?” He tells you softly.

You nod. “I know, Ken.”

He runs a hand down the valley of your breasts, pushing softly for you to lay back across the table telling you: “You’re so beautiful.” And then he’s kneeling down, placing his hands on your knees and spreading your legs before him. This is one of his favorite sights. You spread out in front of him.

When you first began dating again, it really felt like the first time. You were shy, almost embarrassed when exposed to Nanami and he was patient with you because he couldn’t blame you. You had stopped being intimate long before your divorce, so it really felt as if you had to get to know each other’s bodies again. It took a few instances of intimacy for you to open up to him again. But once you did, you often found you couldn’t keep your hands off each other.

Nanami takes in the sight of you in front of him, legs spread wide. His gaze takes in the puffy lips of your pussy coated with your arousal. He licks his lips groaning because he can still taste you on his tongue. But he wants more of you.

“Open your legs for me, love,” he commands, voice husky. He can feel his cock straining against his shorts. He’ll take care of that later, though. Right now, he only wants to take care of you.

You do as you're told, spreading your legs to further expose your aching cunt to Nanami and he can’t wait to run his tongue through your folds.

“So pretty,” he whispers, hands coming up to caress the inside of your thighs. Nanami plants sweet kisses along the plush of your thighs before he leans forward and presses a soft kiss to your pussy lips. You gasp quietly, back arching off of the dining table and Nanami takes that moment to slip his tongue between your folds.

The groan he lets out comes from deep within his chest. It vibrates through your core and the sensation makes you reach down, weaving your fingers through Nanami’s golden tresses to grab hold.

“O-oh, fuck. Kento,” you breathe. Nanami presses his tongue to your clit, grinning when he feels the slick pour from your core and into his mouth.

“You taste so good, my love.” He groans against you. You moan in reply, hips coming up to grind your cunt against his mouth, pleading for more. And Nanami gives it to you, lips sealing around your clit and sucking, licking, nipping at your swollen bud until you’re practically fucking yourself on his tongue.

“Kento, oh my god, Kento,” you keen, back lifting off the table again.

“Let me hear you, love,” his hands squeeze your thighs. “I want to know I make you feel good.”

You moan loudly, fingers gripping Nanami’s hair and pulling him further into your pussy. “You do, baby. You make me feel so fucking good.”

“Yeah?”

“Yes, Ken, so fucking good.”

Nanami brings his hands up to your cunt, presses his thumbs to your lips and spreads your pussy open for him. He leans back, just enough that he can get a good look for himself. The sight damn near brings him to climax, your pussy throbbing before him, your little hole clenching around nothing.

He wants to fuck you. He wants to fuck you so bad, but he’ll wait until later for that.

Instead, he leans forward again and slides his hot tongue straight into your aching hole. He has to stop his eyes from rolling back when you cry out and he feels your soft walls clamp down on his tongue immediately. You’re whining, pushing your hips up to meet his mouth, grinding your soaking cunt against Nanami’s face.

And he loves it.

Nanami loves the taste of you, it’s intoxicating.

Nanami loves the feel of you, soft and pliant beneath his strong hands.

Nanami loves the sounds you make, quite literally music to his ears.

Nanami loves you.

And he hopes you can feel how much he loves you by how he curls his tongue inside your walls. By how he brings a hand up and presses his thumb against your swollen clit where he rubs tight circles. By how he groans into your pussy when he feels a gush of your slick rush into his mouth. By how he’s so painfully hard, he’s now rubbing himself through the front of his shorts to find some sort of friction.

You really must feel it, because you tug on his hair until he pulls his mouth away from your center.

“Come here, Ken,” you whisper. “Fuck me.”

Nanami’s brows knit together, a small frown gracing his features. “I’m sweaty, love. I just worked out.”

You shake your head. “I don’t care about that. I need to feel you. Please.”

So Nanami stands, hand still stroking himself over the fabric of his shorts as he eyes you, all spread open on the table. So enticing, so sexy. You know he can’t resist you. All you have to do is say the word and he’s at your beck and call.

Nanami reaches into his shorts and pulls his cock out before he moves to stand between your legs. A string of precum drips from the tip onto your cunt and Nanami inhales sharply at the sight. You’re driving him insane. He didn’t plan on fucking you right after the gym. If anything, he would’ve finished himself off in the shower. Now he hovers over you, so damn aroused, he’s certain he won’t last long. He slides the tip of his length up and down your folds, collecting your slick and then he leans over you as he positions himself against your entrance.

He gazes into your eyes, absolutely drinks in the fucked out look on your face.

“I’m so in love with you,” he says softly, honestly. Then he kisses you so sweetly, both of you moaning into each other’s mouths as Nanami pushes into you. You wrap your arms around his neck, deepening the kiss and shivering as he enters you, parting your walls for him.

He doesn’t stop moving forward until he feels his balls meet your ass. His tongue presses against yours, both of you whimpering and groaning into each other’s mouths as Nanami finally sits fully inside you.

“Shit,” Nanami curses under his breath. “You feel so good. Every time. I’ll never get tired of having you like this.” He pulls his hips back slowly before he rocks back into you. And maybe it’s the buildup for you, but that first thrust has your pussy gushing against him, soaking straight through his shorts.

“Fuck,” Nanami grits his teeth, the sudden extra slickness making his hips stutter slightly.

“Ah- fuck, Ken,” you whine, holding Nanami close to you as he rolls his hips into yours, filling you over and over.

The room is filled with Nanami’s soft grunts, your sighs and moans, the sounds of your skin slapping together as Nanami fucks into you, the occasional screech of the table legs sliding across the floor echoing through the room.

It’s intimate, your arms wrapped around Nanami, one of his hands holding your waist and the other cupping your cheek. Nanami’s eyes are closed, mouth slack against your own as he pumps into you. You’re so wet, so tight, so soft and as much as he wants to keep fucking you like this, he can feel his balls get a little tighter with each thrust.

He reaches a hand between you both, finding your clit easily and rubbing circles on it. A small smirk spreads across his face when you arch your back with a loud moan, your breasts pressing against his chest. Nanami sits up slightly, head dipping so he can place sweet kisses along your chest and down your breasts.

Your hips come up to meet Nanami’s, the loud smack of your skin meeting pulling a deep groan from within him. He dips his head back down to capture one of your nipples in his mouth, gently grazing his tongue over it while he uses his free hand to grab your other breast, his thumb flicking your neglected nipple.

You’re writhing beneath him, rolling your hips against Nanami’s, panting and Nanami can feel the telltale flutter of your walls. You’re –

“‘m about to cum, Kento,” you cry out. Nanami releases your nipples, crashes his mouth into yours as he keeps his steady pace, thumb rubbing your clit until he feels your pussy tighten around him. It sends him over the edge with you.

“Yes, love. Cum for me,” he groans, his hips stuttering with his own release. And he’s so sensitive, but he fucks you through your orgasm anyway, thrusting his cum deeper and deeper into you until he can’t anymore.

You’re catching your breath as Nanami stands to look you over. You’re glowing with a sheen of sweat covering you. You’ll both need to shower after this. Nanami grips the base of his cock, pulls out of you with a quiet hiss. And just in time because the moment he’s pulled out there’s a knock on the hotel door.

“Room service!”

You scramble off of the table, scurrying around the room to find your towel on the floor, throwing it around your naked form. “Just a minute!”

Nanami chuckles, making his way to the suite door. He cracks it open, coming face to face with the attendant. “You can leave it outside the door and we’ll grab it in a moment.”

The attendant nods, setting the tray down on a small folding stand in front of the door. “Thank you,” Nanami says before he closes the door again. He turns to find you peeking out of the bedroom and it makes him laugh that deep laugh he only lets you hear.

Nanami crosses the threshold to you, takes your face in his hands and presses a tender kiss to your lips. He gazes into those beautiful eyes of yours. He could drown in them when you look at him like you love him more than anything on earth. And he hopes you do because he loves you that much, if not more.

He kisses you again, pulling back just enough to whisper against your lips, “meet me in the shower.”

----------

You never imagined Malaysia to be so beautiful. You’re grateful to Nanami for being such a planner because you don’t think you’d have been able to find these incredible places. You’re only here a few days, and Nanami makes sure you make the most of it.

On Day 1:

After finishing breakfast (and your other extracurriculars in the shower, on the bed, against the wall and back on the table), you finally leave the hotel and venture out. It’s a beautifully sunny day. Perfect for your first real outing in Malaysia.

Nanami takes you to the Wilayah Mosque. And while you usually wouldn’t be interested in something like this, Nanami keeps your attention, doling out interesting facts that keep you engaged.

The mosque guides take you along and stop by the most stunning spots so you can photograph the geometric patterns. The pictures truly don’t do it justice. It’s breathtaking.

“What did you think?” Nanami asks as he buckles his seatbelt. He puts the car in reverse, his hand coming up behind your headrest as he cranes his neck to look behind him. He’s so hot without even trying.

“It was gorgeous. Not something I would’ve picked myself, but I’m glad you did. I liked it.”

Nanami smiles as he turns back around to begin driving. “I’m glad.”

Later that evening, Nanami takes you to Bukit Bintang Shopping District. It reminds you a bit of Shibuya. It’s very busy. You’re a bit surprised that Nanami wants to go somewhere so similar to home. Nanami spoils you here. He offers to buy you whatever you look at for more than a few seconds, stating “get it, love. When is the next time we’ll be in Malaysia?”

So you give in. You let him treat you to whatever you desire (within reason of course).

On Day 2:

Nanami takes you to the hotel’s rooftop pool to enjoy breakfast before you head out for the day.

“What’s on the agenda today?” You ask, sipping your drink. The sun is just rising, painting the sky with hues of pinks, yellows, and oranges. The view is stunning, the city still buzzing even after a long night. Though it’s only been a day, you love it here.

Nanami seems to love it, too. He’s so much more relaxed than you’ve ever seen him. After all of the years you’ve known each other, you’d never seen this side. He’s been so sweet and considerate, taking into account what you’d enjoy and going above and beyond to make sure it happens. He’s been so doting and loving, almost always touching you as though you’re his lifeline. Even now, he’s got his ankles locked with yours under the table and his fingers intertwined with yours on top of it.

It’s something small you didn’t know you’d wanted when you were together before. Now you love this almost…clingy version of Nanami. It made your heart flutter.

Nanami hums, gulping down the last bit of his coffee, his thumb lazily running back and forth across your knuckles.

“I booked a massage for you this morning before we head out.”

“A massage? Just for me?”

He nods, squeezing your hand. “You deserve some time to yourself, too. A nice, relaxing hour just for you seemed like a good idea.”

He wasn’t wrong. You’d been sitting on a plane for several hours just a couple days ago. You’d also been spending a lot of time walking around. Not to mention adjusting to the time change was exhausting and only added to your body feeling a little stiff lately.

“Okay!” You agree happily. “What will you do while I’m gone? I’m sure you’ll be bored out of your mind, missing me and crying with snot and boogers running down your nose, huh?”

“Mm,” Nanami smirks. “You caught me. I’m not sure how I’ll be able to hold back my tears.” He wipes his eyes, sniffling quietly and you laugh because he’s just so cute. Your serious man bantering with you. Ugh, you love him way too much.

“What time is the massage, babe?”

“You’ve got a couple hours. We can just relax in the room until then if you’d like.”

You nod. “Sounds perfect. You can give me a massage before my massage.”

Nanami’s thumb caresses your knuckles. “On the table again? Or maybe the couch this time.” He suggests, his voice dripping with seduction. You feel your cheeks warm.

“Kento!”

----------

You feel beyond refreshed after your massage. There’s an extra bounce in your step as you make your way back to your room. You’re not sure if it’s from the massage from the hotel masseuse or the massage Nanami gave you before you left for your appointment. Maybe both. You’re excited to see Nanami, tell him about how he needed to sign up for a massage next. It was life changing.

But when you enter the room, Nanami is nowhere in sight. It’s quiet. You think for a moment that he’s left, but he would have told you so. He was so much better about communicating than ever. So you wander the room, starting first in the living room area of the suite. You glance through to the balcony. He’s not there. You wander into the bedroom and find it empty as well. He’s not on the bedroom balcony either.

You’re about to text him to ask where he’s wandered off to when you hear his hushed voice in the bathroom connected to the bedroom. You think maybe he’s talking to himself, or maybe taking a work call, but it’s what you do catch that makes you creep a little closer to the door.

“I already told you I will. She’s having a good time. I don’t want to potentially ruin this trip for her.”

You can’t make out what the person on the other end of the line is saying, but it makes Nanami chuckle quietly. Your stomach tightens.

“We’re heading to Kuantan for the day tomorrow. I’ll let you know if I’ll be returning as a single man and if I am, I’ll be blaming you…Okay…Yes…I know...You’ll hear from me once it’s done…Bye.”

Your stomach is in knots, and you feel yourself begin trembling when you hear Nanami shifting around in the bathroom. His footsteps are getting closer and you know you need to pull it the fuck together. You don’t want to jump to conclusions about who was on the phone. Another woman? Nanami never seemed like the type to cheat. But then again, he never seemed like the type to be a neglectful husband, but he was at one point. Had he also gotten into the habit of being unfaithful?

You hoped not.

The doorknob turns and Nanami stands before you. His face lights up when he sees you.

“Hi, my love. How was your massage?” He asks, leaning down to press a soft kiss to your cheek.

“Good,” is all you can muster. “Who was that on the phone?”

You don’t miss the way Nanami stiffens briefly. “Oh, just a work call.”

And you know him. You know Nanami Kento better than he knows himself, you think. Because you can tell he just lied to your face. You don’t know who he was actually talking to or why he felt the need to lie about it. You want to give him the benefit of the doubt because deep down, you do trust him. He’s never given you a reason to doubt his faithfulness to you. If he was withholding the truth, there had to be a good reason for it. So you let it go…for now.

“You okay?” Nanami asks when you don’t respond.

You smile, nodding. “Yes, I’m okay. The massage was great.”

You fill Nanami in on how your appointment was, even recommending he get a massage as well.

“Maybe tomorrow morning before we head out to Kuantan for the day. Get changed. I want to take you to the Batu Caves. It’s absolutely breathtaking.”

You tuck away this strange feeling blooming in your chest and nod, smiling up at the man you hope with all your heart you can trust. “Okay, Ken. Let’s go.”

On Day 3:

You and Nanami have been driving for the last three hours and to say you’re exhausted is an understatement. You’ve been letting Nanami’s little white lie eat away at you and it’s been putting a damper on the trip. You’re trying your best not to let on that something is bothering you, but as you approach your destination, you’re not sure if you can keep your feelings to yourself.

You’d tried not to think too much about it, not to assume the worst of the man you love, but a part of you can’t help but wonder if maybe this trip with Nanami truly would be your last.

“Love, can you check the navigation for me please?” Nanami asks next to you. “I want to make sure we’re still on the right path.”

“Sure.”

You grab his phone from its position clipped to the dashboard and look at the map. It’s then that a text notification rolls down Nanami’s screen.

Unknown: tell her today

Unknown: if you don’t tell her before you come back i will!

Now, usually you wouldn’t pry. That’s a boundary you crossed when you suspected Nanami of cheating on you before you asked for a divorce. The suspicions didn’t seem valid at the time and yet you still looked through Nanami’s things to find something that confirmed he was being unfaithful.

Now, it seemed the evidence was right before you. You tap the notification, eyes widening when you see a text thread leading back to the day you left Tokyo to fly to Kuala Lumpur. It’s a bunch of “have you told her”’s and “i can’t wait for you to tell her” and even a “make sure to film her reaction. she’s gonna lose it and i’m gonna laugh so hard”.

You feel sick. You feel like you want to cry. You feel like you want to scream.

He’s cheating on you. Nanami is cheating on you.

You check out, completely focusing on staring ahead of you as Nanami continues to drive.

Shortly after seeing those texts, Nanami pulls up and parks at Sungai Pandan Waterfall. He opens your door for you and stretches a hand out for you to take. You’re staring up into his pretty brown eyes, wondering how he could do this to you and still bring you here. It seems Malaysia is destined to be nothing but a reminder of pain for you.

You take Nanami’s hands regardless, your ears immediately flooded with the sounds of rushing water. The falls are enormous, multi-tiered and picturesque. It’s not especially crowded, a few families scattered around the falls, either climbing up the rocks or jumping into the large pool at the bottom. Maybe if things were going differently, you’d be able to appreciate the beauty.

Nanami leads you up a path that would take you up the sides of the waterfall, but your mind is racing a million miles a minute, still thinking back to the way Nanami hid his phone from you on the plane ride here. Nanami telling you it was no one important when he got that early morning text on your first day. Nanami’s hushed conversation in the bathroom and now that long chain of text messages.

It’s all eating away at you and you can no longer stand by and pretend to have a good day when Nanami is betraying you right to your face. You yank your hand back, the tears already threatening to spill.

Nanami looks down at you, clearly confused. “Are you okay, love?”

“Kento.” Your voice is shaky, but serious. You want to let him know you mean business right now and when you ask for an answer, he better damn well give it to you.

“What’s wrong?”

“We’ve known each other a long time, Ken. I would think you’d be honest about your feelings with me.”

Nanami is still looking at you, utterly confused. “What are you talking about?”

“Don’t play stupid. I know what you’ve been up to. The secret texts, the secret phone calls and the lies.” The tears are spilling now and you’re trying to keep your composure, trying not to make a scene when Nanami reaches for your hand and you pull back again. Nanami’s eyes widen as he begins to put two and two together.

“I can explain,” he begins hurriedly.

“Explain what? That you came on this trip just to tell me your deep dark secret? That’s what your little friend said.”

“My little friend?”

“The one you’ve been secretly texting throughout the whole trip! The one you were probably on the phone with while you were hiding in the bathroom yesterday!”

He opens his mouth, but you cut him off with a warning. “I saw all of the texts on the way here, too. So don’t you dare tell me that was a work call or I swear, Kento–”

“Okay. Okay. It’s really not what you think,” he sighs as he fishes his phone from his pocket.

“You could’ve at least saved your mistress' number,” you mutter, unsure if Nanami heard you over the sound of the waterfalls.

Nanami holds his phone up, showing you the text thread you saw in the car earlier. “Are these what you saw?”

When you nod, he hands you his phone, pinching the bridge of his nose in frustration. You give him a questioning look.

“Go ahead and call it.”

You want to scream at him that you’re really not interested in talking to whoever he’s cheating on you with, but the pleading look in his eyes pushes you to dial the number. You turn to face away from Nanami as it rings. It feels as though the dial tone rings for an eternity before you hear shuffling and then:

“NANAMIIIIIIIIIIIIIIN! Did you do it? Did you tell her?”

Your eyes widen in shock…and embarrassment. “...Satoru?”

On the other end of the line, Satoru is quiet. After a moment, he says “Heeeeyyyy, babe.”

“Satoru, you’ve been texting Kento this whole time?”

“Yep!”

You’re relieved to know you were in fact crazy for thinking Nanami would ever choose to hurt you by cheating. You should have known better, should have trusted that he wouldn’t do that to you. You feel ashamed. But, you also have questions.

“Why doesn’t Kento have your number saved?” You ask, suddenly curious.

Satoru gasps loudly on the other end. “He doesn’t?! Ugh, that asshole. After all the help I gave him.”

“Help? With what?”

“He didn’t tell you?”

You’re beginning to get annoyed.

“Tell me what?”

Nanami calls your name from behind you.

“Hang up,” He says. You’re so frustrated. You want answers and Satoru seems to be the one willing to give them right now. Regardless, you turn around…only to find Nanami down on one knee gazing up at you.

Your mouth drops open and you tighten your grip on Nanami’s phone so don’t drop it from the sheer shock you’re experiencing.

“Babe, are you the–” you hit the ‘end call’ button on Satoru, still staring down at Nanami before you.

“Ken…what–”

“I would never cheat on you,” Nanami swears. “You know that. I’ve told you this before. And I’m sorry for all of the secrets, for lying to you. But trust me. I have good intentions here.” He reaches forward to take both your hands in his. “I have been so scared to tell you this because I was afraid you’d run. Or that it would completely change everything for us in the worst way. It’s been Satoru pushing me, encouraging me. If it weren’t for him, I would never take this next step and tell you that…”

Nanami is so red, so flustered. You’d only ever seen him like this when you first reconnected. It takes you back to the elevator after your big argument in the restaurant. He’s being open and vulnerable with you. You give him your full attention.

“Tell me what?” You push softly. Because even Nanami – strong as he is – needs a nudge.

He takes a deep breath, letting go of one of your hands to reach into his pocket where he pulls out a small blue velvet box. You watch with wide eyes as he flips the box open, revealing a beautiful ring. It’s different from the last one Nanami gave you, this one with your birthstone sitting in the center. It’s gorgeous.

“Tell you that I have been the luckiest man on this planet to have been given a second chance with you. I am the luckiest man to be able to wake up next to you everyday, to hold you every night. To kiss you whenever I feel like it. There was a point in time when I didn’t appreciate that or you and I came to regret that. But now that you’ve given me a second chance to show you how much I love you, how much you mean to me, I know I’ll never make that mistake again.

You fill my heart beyond measure. Not a moment goes by when my mind is not preoccupied with the thought of you. I take you to the train every morning and meet you at work every afternoon because any minute longer than the 8 hours a day I’m forced to be away from you is too painful to bear. I want to show you the same love you’ve always given me from now until forever, if you’ll let me.”

The tears trail down your cheeks, lip quivering as Nanami pours his soul out to you.

“I love you. I’m in love with you. I want to be with you always. So,” he releases your other hand to pull the ring out of the box, whispering your name as he asks, “Will you marry me…” he chuckles softly as he adds, “again?”

Your mind is reeling. You went from suspecting Nanami of cheating on you five minutes ago to Nanami now proposing to you for what would be the second time in your lives. You peer down at this man you’ve known most of your life, who you’ve experienced so much with – love, pain, loss – and you ask yourself if you could do it all again with him.

There will be fights and disagreements, tears shed and slammed doors. But there will also be laughs and kisses and shared moments making memories together. You’ve seen the changes Nanami has made, you’ve experienced them firsthand. You know this time around could be different if you let it be.

You soak in your surroundings – the rushing waters of the falls, the tropical smell in the air, the sounds of families screaming and laughing. This is what you and Nanami had worked toward.

The simple idea of Malaysia once tore your relationship to pieces, ruined your marriage and had you moving forward without Nanami Kento in your life. You couldn’t stand to look at Nanami without thinking of Malaysia and the pain it caused you. You once hated this place with every fiber of your being.

Now standing here, in the place that once brought so much turmoil into your life, you stare down at the love of your life and you see hope. You see a real future of true happiness. So you kneel down with Nanami, face to face, eyes locked onto each other and whisper a quiet:

“Yes.”

----------

You and Nanami spend the remaining days in newly engaged couple bliss. You hardly leave your hotel room when you get back to Kuala Lumpur, spending most of the trip tangled in the sheets together.

As you sit on the plane, awaiting your flight back to Tokyo, you hold your hand out in front of you, admiring your engagement ring. Nanami has a hand resting on the back of your neck where he rubs small circles. He laughs quietly when he sees you wiggle your fingers, the gems sparkling on your hand.

“This ring is so beautiful,” you breathe.

“I’m glad you like it. Satoru had a friend who helped design it.”

“Speaking of Satoru, why don’t you have his number saved in your phone. Would’ve saved me the headache.”

Nanami shrugs. “I did have it saved at first. But he annoyed me once and I deleted it and I don’t care to save it again. Because it’ll only be a matter of time before I delete his information again.”

You nod in understanding, your mind suddenly thinking about how quickly you jumped to conclusions when you thought Nanami was cheating and an idea hits you.

“Maybe we should do couple’s therapy before getting married again,” you suggest.

Nanami hums beside you. “I’m willing. I have no intention of letting this marriage fail for a second time.”

The ding of the airplane cabin goes off, signifying you’ll be taking off soon.

Nanami takes your hand in his, squeezing gently before he leans and runs his nose along the bridge of yours. Then he kisses you sweetly.

“I love you, baby,” he whispers. Even as the plane signals ring and the captain speaks loudly over the speaker, you hear him loud and clear.

“I love you.”

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490 notes · View notes

fwckriley · 2 years ago

Note

Just a suggestion but how about a fic where Ghost is incredibly protective over the reader but doesn’t realise it’s because he’s actually in love with her

Simping for this man I swear 🧎‍♀️

The Trials and Tribulations of Being in Love Pt 1.

──────────── ❖ ────────────

Pairing: Simon “Ghost” Riley x Reader

Word Count: 4.098

──────────── ❖ ────────────

He shouldn't have come. This mission was hers, and hers alone. When they told her that Ghost had requested to accompany her on the mission, at first she felt angry, but after they embarked together, that feeling diminished. It was comforting to have someone familiar by her side, of course, she would never admit to him that she was grateful. She and Ghost had participated in previous missions together. However, as much as his presence pleased her, she was still angry that he had interfered in her mission. She refused to talk to him, but he didn't seem affected. Honestly, he even seemed to like it.

She was assigned to investigate an international arms trafficking led by a dealer whose identity was unknown. Her task was to find out who the dealer was, where he was, and to prevent the sale of weapons into the hands of Iranian military.

They had just landed at Tengah Air Base in Singapore. As she and Ghost got off the aircraft, the hot sun of Singapore hit their faces, indicating it was already late. The heat was strong, but there was a gentle breeze that made the weather pleasant. Tengah Air Base was bustling, with many people coming and going. Planes took off and landed, generating a deafening noise that seemed never to cease. There was a crowd of uniformed military personnel running back and forth, transporting equipment and luggage. Some were waiting in line to board one of the planes. Others chatted in groups, laughing and smoking. Some civilian workers in orange uniforms carried boxes and equipment into one of the hangars, while a supply truck entered the base, raising clouds of dust. Soon, a local-looking man greeted them with a polite gesture and signaled for her and Ghost to follow him. He led them to a discreet black car parked near the runway and opened the door for them to get in. The inside of the vehicle was cool and comfortable, a relief from the heat outside.

The agent seemed nervous, gripping the steering wheel tightly as he tried to maintain small talk, but his voice trembled with anxiety. Ghost remained silent, seeming lost in his own thoughts, his face expressionless. Meanwhile, she answered a question or two with disinterest, looking out at the urban landscape passing by. The tall buildings of Singapore rose majestically in the distance, forming an imposing silhouette against the sky. The streets were filled with hurried cars, blaring horns, and pedestrians rushing to escape the chaotic traffic.

Upon arriving at the hotel, which was half an hour away from the city, she and Ghost headed to their assigned room. The environment was simple, with rustic wooden furniture and white walls, without great luxuries or extravagant decorations. She observed the room, noticing details such as the two single beds with white sheets and a small built-in closet in the wall. Upon closing the door to the room, she sighed deeply, feeling the fatigue from the long flight and the confusion of time zones. Her eyes wandered around the room, noticing the open window and the fresh breeze that came in, bringing with it the scent of the forest. With a quick movement, she threw her bag on the bed and turned to Ghost, who was organizing the baggage in the room. He had taken most of her baggage. She didn't even argue against it.

"It's not the best room I've ever stayed in, but it's better than nothing," she commented with a smirk. Ghost simply nodded his head without saying a word.

She approached the window, admiring the vast green expanse of the forest that stretched out before her. The sun still shone brightly in the sky, giving a golden hue to the surroundings. With her hands resting on the windowsill, she felt the breeze hit her face, bringing a slight relief. Turning around, she walked towards her bed, pulling out the black folder she had brought with her. With agile fingers, she carefully opened it, revealing the detailed information about the arms trafficking operation that was inside. Her eyes quickly scanned the pages, absorbing every detail.

She looks at Ghost and asks, "So, what do you have in mind?"

"We need a contact in Singapore, someone who can give us information without raising suspicions."

She crosses her arms and retorts sarcastically, "Oh, is that all? That easy?"

Ghost turns around and faces her.

"No, it's not easy. That's why you're here."

"Oh, and here I was thinking I was on vacation," she says sarcastically. He rolls his eyes and moves away, going to the window.

After a few minutes of silence, she looks at Ghost and says, "There's a guy I worked with once. I met him in..."

"Is he trustworthy?"

She shrugs.

"I trust him as much as I trust you."

Ghost snorted and turns his face back to the window, saying nothing.

"I'll call him and see what I can do," she replied as she got up from the bed and went to a more private place.

❖

After a few failed attempts, she finally managed to arrange a meeting at a bar in the city. When she returned to the room, she found Ghost sitting on the edge of the bed tinkering with his equipment. She approached him and informed him about the scheduled meeting.

"I got it. He wants to meet me at eight in a bar at Marina Bay," she said with a satisfied smile.

“Okay, I'll get ready,” Ghost replied, already getting up from the bed.

“You were not invited, Ghost,” she said, crossing her arms in front of her chest.

He looked at her as if challenging her to stop him.

"Ghost, seriously. First, he's my contact and a really difficult guy to deal with. He's going to be suspicious if someone he doesn't know shows up, especially if that person is six feet three inches tall and looks like a damn refrigerator wearing a weird skeleton balaclava." As she spoke, her tone of voice increased, not quite yelling, but her previous bad mood was becoming more evident. She stopped herself before continuing. "Second, they might recognize you. And nobody can know we have a SAS lieutenant here, got it? It'll ruin the mission."

He stared at her for a long time. She could see him struggling with his thoughts. After a few seconds, he simply shook his head and went back to tinkering with his gear.

"As you wish," he said emotionlessly. "But you'll keep me updated."

"I'll keep you updated," she repeated.

"And you'll behave. And if anything goes wrong, you'll let me know immediately and find shelter," he continued.

"Whatever you say, goes," she assured him.

He nodded. "Get ready."

And as ordered, she promptly started to get ready for the meeting. She dressed carefully, wearing a discreet outfit and no flashy accessories, so as not to draw attention from the regular customers of the bar.

As she entered the bar, she felt a bit anxious. The loud music mixed with the sound of lively conversations and glasses being placed on tables. The dim lights made it difficult to see the surroundings. She walked towards the counter, where she ordered a drink and observed the environment carefully. Small tables and uncomfortable chairs were filled with a variety of people. Minutes later, her old contact arrived at the bar and he immediately recognized her. He looked older, but equally handsome, his dark skin contrasting with his elegant purple suit. Not at all flashy, she thought. They greeted each other with a nod and sat at a more secluded table, where they could talk more privately.

❖

After the meeting, she returned to the hotel. Ghost was checking his weapons and communication equipment again, a habit he learned over the years in the SAS. He did it a thousand times during missions, always trying to make sure everything was perfect. The only illumination came from a weak and yellow lamp, leaving the room with a dark tone. His bed was full of guns. She entered the room, closing the door softly. He turned around abruptly, holding his pistol firmly. Their eyes met, and he lowered the gun as soon as he recognized her.

"It’s me," she identified herself. Ghost sighed and turned his attention back to his equipment, without offering any response or greeting.

She approached and sat at the table, where there were documents and maps spread out.

"So, what do we have?" he asked, without looking up from the equipment.

"He said the guy we're looking for is known as The Merchant, but he doesn't know how to find him. However, if we want to find out more, we could start by looking for the port of Singapore. Apparently, it's an important trafficking point," she explained, pointing to the map.

“Which means it’s heavily guarded.”

“Wouldn't be fun if it wasn't.” She said with a smile “There’s more. He said he heard that in two days a group of Iranian military officials will arrive to make the weapons purchase.”

“Matches up with the info Laswell gave me,” Ghost said.

“I can try to infiltrate the operation and gather more intel on the flow of weapons and how they’re being transported.” She proposed, confidently.

Ghost nodded in agreement.

“Not going to be easy,” he replied.

She looked at the map attentively, searching for a point of entry.

“Where do you think we can get in?”

“Through the fish loading dock, it's less monitored and gives access to the restricted area of the port,” Ghost suggested.

“And what about the Iranians arriving in two days?” she asked.

"We have to act fast. If we infiltrate now, there will be fewer people present and the darkness will give us an advantage. In the meantime, I'll stay in a strategic position, providing cover and support in case something goes wrong."

She nodded her head, already thinking about the details of the operation. She grabbed her computer and began analyzing the port images, looking for possible weak spots. Ghost approached, getting so close that she could feel the heat of his body. She tried to ignore it as much as possible and continued.

"I don't like this," said Ghost, pointing to one of the surveillance cameras in the port. "They have eyes everywhere."

"If we know where the cameras are, we can avoid them and move more easily."

"It's risky," said Ghost, "You'll have to be very careful..."

"Understood," she said, getting up. She began checking her weapons and equipment, while Ghost prepared his sniper rifle.

"Is everything ready?" she asked.

"Yes, what about you?"

She nodded her head.

"Then let's go."

The two of them left the hotel room and headed for the port of Singapore.

❖

It was midnight and the streets were practically deserted, with few cars circulating that part of the city. The port of Singapore was a few kilometers away and they headed there on foot.

"There's an observation point over there," Ghost said, pointing to a small building near the port. "I'm heading there."

"Great," she said, giving a mischievous smile. "Let's have some fun."

"Stay focused, agent. Security here is tight. One mistake and everything could go downhill."

"Yes, I know," she replied, with a more serious tone.

"Wait for me to give you the signal before you enter," Ghost said.

“Understood.”

“Take care of yourself. I don't want to have to carry your dead body around.”

“Oh, you're so sweet. I'm touched. Really.” She placed her hand over her heart in a theatrical gesture. He ignored her.

They parted ways and went in opposite directions.

When she arrived at the port, she successfully infiltrated it with Ghost's help in avoiding the security cameras. She crept through the shadows, avoiding the most brightly lit and crowded areas. With every step, she looked around, searching for signs of surveillance or alarms. Ghost silently accompanied her on the other side of the radio, giving precise instructions and alerting her to potential dangers only when needed. Typical, she thought.

The night was dark, with no stars in the sky. There was a cool breeze blowing, carrying with it the salty smell of the sea. The stacked containers reached impressive heights, creating a kind of maze. The port lights only partially illuminated the area, creating deep and dark shadows that moved with the wind. She walked quietly, staying low and hidden among the cargo.

Meanwhile, Ghost was stationed in a nearby building overlooking the port. The building he was in was old and had dirty, dusty windows. He used his sniper rifle to keep an eye on the entire area and provide cover for her. There was an open laptop next to him, flashing with real-time images from various security cameras scattered throughout the port.

"You've reached the entry point," he said through the radio. "There are no guards in the area. Enter and proceed forward."

She followed the instructions, advancing towards the entrance. When she arrived, she hid in the shadows and looked around, checking for any more guards or cameras.

"No sign of activity," she said, without pausing. "I'm entering now."

"Be careful," said Ghost.

She let out a mocking laugh.

"Don't worry, Ghost. I won't screw everything up."

"I hope not," he said, clearly annoyed.

"Relax," she said, trying to ease the tension. "I have everything under control."

He didn't respond. She knew he wasn't happy with the situation, but she couldn't help but find it funny.

"You know, Ghost," she said, the malice in her voice, "I love it when you're mad. Gets my blood pumping."

"Don't start with that now," he replied, in a warning tone.

She laughed again. "I know you like it."

He sighed and turned off the radio. She laughed again, feeling victorious. She knew she had managed to irritate him, but she also knew he would never leave her in danger.

"There's a guard coming your way. Get behind those containers," he whispered through the earpiece.

As she approached the heart of the port, activity increased. She noticed an area with reinforced security and armed guards, likely where the weapons shipments were kept. She knew she needed to get closer to get a clearer view. Carefully, she went unnoticed by security guards and walked through dark alleys, alert to any sign of danger.

"You're getting close to the restricted area," Ghost warned. "Be cautious."

She approached slowly, observing the guards' activity and patrol routes. Still hidden in the shadows, she prepared to move when the right moment came.

"There's a guard coming your way," Ghost whispered again.

She quickly hid and waited patiently as the guard passed, unaware of her presence. When he moved away, she advanced again. Finally, she reached the restricted area and peered through a crack in the crates. Inside, she saw a row of reinforced containers, guarded by several armed men. She focused on her breathing, remaining calm and focused.

"Are you seeing anything?" Ghost asked through the radio.

"They're guarding the weapons containers, just as we suspected," she whispered back.

"Okay, I'll cover you from here," Ghost said. "But be careful."

With Ghost's words in mind, she carefully planned her next move. She needed to get closer to get a clear view of what was inside the containers. Cautiously, she approached the entrance of the restricted area, always hiding in the shadows and avoiding the lights.

"Ghost, I think I found something. I'm going to investigate," she said to him through the earpiece.

Ghost remained in his position, watching her every move, ready to intervene if anything went wrong. Meanwhile, she advanced cautiously, dodging the henchmen and hiding behind crates and containers. She observed two men talking in hushed tones near a large green container. She approached stealthily, trying to listen in on what they were saying, but before she could get close enough, one of the men spotted her. The man was about to shout an alert when Ghost took him out. She drew her pistol and fired, hitting the other man squarely. She approached the green container and opened it carefully, finding a large quantity of weapons and ammunition, all American-made and bearing the seals of a US arms industry.

"They're trafficking American weapons to the Iranians," she whispered.

"Copy that. Get out of there fast. There's a group nearby," Ghost replied.

She carefully closed the container and moved stealthily through the port, remaining alert to every movement. Despite the orders to leave, she decided to hide and wait for the group to pass by her. She advanced cautiously, following the group from a distance, hiding behind crates and containers.

Ghost tried to persuade her through the earpiece to turn back and wait for a more propitious moment, but she ignored him. She arrived at a warehouse, where men were loading boxes onto a truck. She watched as they loaded the boxes onto the truck. Unlike the boxes in the container, these bore the flag of Germany.

"These weapons are German," she said to Ghost through the earpiece. However, he didn't respond. She tried to communicate with him a few more times, but still no answer.

That was when Ghost appeared by her side, surprising her.

"You shouldn't have come alone," he said in a reproachful tone. "You're putting your life at risk."

"I thought we could find out more, and guess what? I was right," she nodded towards the boxes marked with the German flag.

He held her arm tightly and pulled her close to him.

"Let's get out of here before we're discovered," he said urgently. "Several cars arrived with guards. Were you listening to me? I told you to wait."

He looked at her with anger. If she didn't know him, she could swear there was concern in his eyes.

"I was following a lead that I deemed important, and I was right. There are American and German weapons here," she replied, trying to justify her actions.

"You don't understand the gravity of the situation. Now we're surrounded," retorted Ghost, his voice growing louder. "Tell me, Y/N, how do you plan to get us out of here?"

He never called her by her first name. She opened her mouth to argue and closed it several times.

"I'll figure something out," she finally said.

"Oh, you'll figure something out. Are you going to teleport us?" he teased.

"You're being impossible, seriously."

"I'm only being impossible because you're being irresponsible," he countered.

The two continued arguing in a louder tone, until they caught the attention of the guards, who began to approach them. Ghost and her stepped back, but the guarda had already spotted them. They drew their guns and began shooting. One of them aimed in her direction, and Ghost quickly moved her aside. Quickly the guards went on alert.

He kept a firm stance and a serious expression as he moved with agility, trying to find cover between the boxes. She could feel her heart racing, adrenaline taking over her body. She tried to argue with Ghost, but he seemed to have taken the lead of the situation and didn't want to hear her suggestions.

"We don't have time for this now. We need to get out of here before they find us," said Ghost, trying to find a way out. "Let's go."

They moved quickly and managed to escape the location before the henchman reached them. As they ran through the port, shots echoed behind them.

"Damn the moment I decided to follow you!" Ghost shouted, still angry with her. "I told you it wasn't safe, but you never listen to me."

"I never asked you to come on this mission in the first place," she retorted, annoyed with him.

"If I hadn't come, you'd be dead by now."

"We won't get anything done if we keep blaming each other," she said.

"I'm not blaming us. I'm blaming you," he said before running towards a clear path to the left. Without hesitation, she followed him and both entered a maze of containers, using them as cover while exchanging shots with the henchmen.

One of the shots grazed her arm, making her groan in pain.

"Are you okay?" Ghost asked, concerned.

"I'm fine. Don't worry," she replied, trying to keep her voice steady as she reloaded her gun.

They kept moving, searching for an exit. The shots decreased, giving them a chance to catch their breath. They hid behind a container, regaining their breath and assessing the situation.

In a stroke of luck, she noticed an open gate and pointed it out to Ghost. He looked in the indicated direction and, without hesitation, started running towards it. She followed him, her quick steps echoing on the ground. The gate was huge. There was an armed guard standing in front of it, but for some reason, he seemed distracted. The open gate led to a wide road with many cars passing by. As they approached the gate, the guard finally noticed their presence and tried to close it, but it was too late. Ghost hit him with a knife, and he fell to the ground soon after.

They ran down the street trying to get rid of the guards who were chasing them. When they saw the entrance to the subway ahead, they approached it without hesitation and entered. People moved away, frightened, as they passed by. She couldn't help but think of the guards who were still chasing them, looking over her shoulder at all times to check if they were being followed. At one point, one of the guards managed to catch up to her and grab her, but she freed herself with an elbow strike to his rib and a kick to his stomach. In the midst of the confusion, she also managed to grab the cell phone of the guard who had grabbed her.

She looked at Ghost and spoke in a low and urgent tone:

"We need to find a way to get rid of them and get out of here."

"I agree," replied Ghost, watching the crowded platform of people coming and going.

They jumped the turnstile and ran to the train platform that was about to leave.

"Let's take the next train," she said to him. Ghost nodded in agreement.

They got on the subway car and concealed themselves amidst the crowd, blending in with the passengers. Glancing out the window, they saw the guards running towards them. The subway car was packed with people, all squeezing together for space. The air was permeated with a mix of sweat and metal. She and Ghost blended themselves in with the passengers. The guards showed up on the opposite end of the subway car, scanning around. Then, the gunfight erupted. Gunshots reverberated through the subway car, and the passengers shrunk in fear, trying to find a secure place to shield themselves. She and Ghost attempted to dodge the bullets and retaliate, but swiftly realized they were outnumbered. They spotted an emergency door close by and didn't think twice before trying their luck. With a shove from Ghost, the door swung open, and they hurled themselves into the dark tunnel, clueless of where they were headed.

Finally, they saw an entrance to a ventilation duct and crawled inside, trying to hide. Her hearts were still beating, and her breaths were tired as she and Ghost recovered from the escape.

The ventilation duct was dark and narrow, but it would do. She and Ghost squeezed into the tight space, trying to find a more comfortable position. The air was stuffy and dusty. She looked at Ghost and saw that he had a tense expression, probably still processing what had happened. They fell silent, listening to the sound of their own breaths and trying to detect any sounds that could indicate the presence of the guards. Time seemed to pass slowly, and she wondered how long it would be safe to stay there. After half an hour, Ghost spoke:

"You ruined everything. You could have gotten us killed."

"We're running against time, it seemed like a good idea to try and find out more intel. I didn't have a choice."

"You always have a choice," Ghost retorted. "You could have waited for more information, for a better plan. But no, you always have to do things your way and on your own time."

She sighed. She knew she had made a mistake, but she couldn't change what had already happened.

"I'm sorry," she said, looking down.

"I hope so," he said.

──────────── ❖ ────────────

if you've read this far, thank you so much for your patience!!! i know there are mistakes, both in typing and in english, but please keep in mind that english is not my native language. I hope you enjoyed it. ❥ ❥ ❥

#modern warfare 2 #modern warfare ii #cod mw2 #simon ghost riley #simon riley #simon ghost riley x reader #simon riley x reader #call of duty mw2 #simon ghost riley headcanons #cod imagine #simon riley x y/n #cod mw ghost #ghost cod #ghost mw2 #mw2 fanfic #simon ghost riley x you #ghost call of duty #ghost headcanons

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mlmxreader · 2 years ago

Text

A Grounded Pilot | Alejandro Vargas x trans!m!reader

Anonymous asked: And well it means I'll request again.

I had in mind alejandro vargas x pakistani!ftm reader where reader is again a pilot and he has to go on a mission but, his jet goes off the radar for a week before the people that were sent to search for him bring him back, he had injuries but he wasn't severely injured. He would be devastated about his favorite jet. With this prompt "I was so fucking worried, when they'd said that you-" "Hey, it's alright. Look, I'm fine"

Sorry if this is too specific and confusing, feel free to ignore it :)

-🦝

summary: Alejandro is all too aware that being in the air force is dangerous, but that won’t stop him from worrying when the man he loves suddenly disappears.

tws: mentions of blood/bruises/minor injury, plane crashes, swearing, smoking

Every day had felt like a curse as Alejandro religiously checked his phone and checked any letters that had been addressed to him, always chewing his lip and reading things once, twice, three times, sometimes four, just to make sure that he had read them properly; he didn’t want to think that it was true, he didn’t want to think that every day, another squadron of the Pakistan Air Force had been sent out to retrieve you and had come back empty handed every fucking day. Sometimes, Alejandro would ask Allah to do him a favour, and to keep an eye on you, keep you safe until you could be found again, but he knew that it was a lot to ask; it had been several days since you had gone off of the radar during a mission, and nobody had seen hide nor hair of you and could hardly even stomach the thought of thinking the worst. Not you, you couldn’t be dead, not when you were an aerial ace in your own right and when Alejandro knew, he fucking knew better than anyone else, that you were the most talented, most lethal, most dangerous pilot that the Pakistan Air Force had to offer.

You couldn’t be dead, Alejandro knew that, but his hope that you would ever be found was beginning to fade; he didn’t think that you would be dead, he knew better than that, but captured? Held somewhere either for ransom or so that some asshole could torture you for information? Those were both likely, especially where the game of war was considered; it could have easily been the case that someone had grabbed you when you landed for a moment, and that they had dragged you off somewhere. You could be chained up, bloody, beaten for all Alejandro knew. You could be bloodied and bruised and weak and on death’s door, begging for mercy and begging for you life, maybe even trying to bargain your life for someone else’s; Alejandro was giving up hope that you would be found, if he was honest, he knew that the chances of you being found in a warzone went from slim to none within hours, and as the days crawled by and started to approach a week - a week with Pakistani pilots telling him that they were sorry, but they had not found you - Alejandro knew that the chances of you being alive got smaller.

“Will you find him this time?” Alejandro asked, tears in his eyes and desperation in his voice as he held Ansharah’s hand tightly. “Iqbal, please, you have to find him.”

Ansharah gave his hand a little squeeze as she sniffled and licked her lips, not really sure how to answer as she shook her head and swallowed thickly. “Ale, I will do what I can, I promise.”

“You have to find him,” his voice was getting more desperate, more weak and pleading. “You have to bring him home.”

“I’m gonna do my best,” her voice broke a little bit as tears came to her eyes, shaking her head as she cleared her throat. “I’ll do my very best to find (y/n), you know that… you just focus on getting yourself cleaned up, Ale - go shower, go get something to eat. Please?”

Alejandro nodded, but didn’t dare to break apart as he pulled her into a tight hug, careful not to mess up her Hijab as he buried his face against her and shook his head. “I miss him… the fucking pendejo shouldn’t have gone out…”

“I miss him, too,” she murmured, rubbing his back. “But he was never the type to follow orders… couldn’t keep him grounded…”

Alejandro eventually broke away, still teary eyed and still hardly able to speak without pleading as he took a step back and wandered off to the showers while Ansharah prepared to go and search for his boyfriend; she had a map with her of where she had not yet looked, and started from the furthest area, making her way back steadily - but as she was turning around to head back to base, she spotted it. The wreckage of a JF-17 Thunder. Her hands shook as she brought herself down to land nearby, shaking her head and repeating the word ‘no’ over and over again as she raced towards the wreckage.

You were there alright, sat on the broken wing as you puffed on a cigarette and waved at her, a grin on your face. “Mornin’ Iqbal - I was starting to think you’d never show up.”

Ansharah’s first instinct was to smack the back of your head, nearly causing you to drop your cigarette as she growled at you softly. “You fucking asshole! We’ve been out looking for you every fucking day! And you’ve just been sat here?!”

“All my Comms were down,” you started, “no radio, no satellite - couldn’t even show up on radar if I tried… the trek to base is fucking three hours, too, mind.”

She frowned at you, then kneeled between your legs as her shaky hands roamed your body, searching for injuries; but all she found were a few scrapes and a few minor cuts that had already healed, mostly cleared up bruises, and ash and charcoal littering your skin. So she didn’t hesitate, waiting for you to finish your cigarette before she dragged you back to her own plane, loaded you up in it, and started the flight back to base.

“The Air Marshal is gonna have my guts for garters,” you sighed. “My fucking plane got wrecked, and it’s my fucking fault.”

Ansharah shook her head, keeping her eyes on where she was going as she sighed. “I know you loved that plane, (y/n), but just be glad that you’re alive - be glad you haven’t been captured, either.”

“But I don’t have a plane,” you pointed out. “What fucking use is a pilot without a plane?”

“One that’s lucky enough to be alive and uncaptured,” she admitted. “Get some rest, Flight Lieutenant, we’ll have you back home soon, anyway.”

You did as she said, getting as comfortable as you could and doing your best to doze off, but you couldn’t sleep; your head was swimming, thoughts of your poor plane, reduced to nothing but rubble and ash as it sat back at the crash site, thoughts of Alejandro, your loving boyfriend who you knew would be worried and would be glad to see you, making you feel guilty for ever leaving in the first place. You shouldn’t have accepted the mission that day, intercepting an enemy aircraft, you should have left it to someone else; maybe if you did, then you never would have worried Alejandro in the first place, you never would have worried anyone if you didn’t leave that day. You didn’t get any sleep, and when Ansharah landed, you were the first to get out, first to run off and to find Alejandro; he crashed into you, wrapping his arms around you tightly as he held you so close, his eyes wide and teary.

“You pendejo,” he grumbled. “I told you not to go! I told you not to leave! You… you could’ve been killed, amor… fuck, I was so fucking worried when they’d said that you-”

“Hey, it’s alright. Look, I’m fine,” you pulled away so that he could get a good look at you, smiling weakly as you allowed him to put his hands on you, roaming your body as he asked if it hurt. “My plane’s fucked, but I’m alright.”

“Oh, amor,” he said softly, raising his brows a little as he gently cradled your face in his hands, shaking his head. “(y/n), mis disculpas, I know how much that plane meant to you…”

“I’m grounded, Ale,” you said, shaking your head. “I’m useless.”

“No, no,” Alejandro shook his head again, daring to press a sweet kiss to your forehead. “You’re not useless, mi rey, you’ll get another plane…”

He couldn’t stop himself, grabbing you and pulling you in close again as he sniffled and pressed his mouth to your shoulder, keeping you so close to his own body that he could have sworn he could hear your heart thudding gently; he had been so worried, so fucking terrified that he had lost you, that you had gotten captured or worse, that he couldn’t help but to be a little overwhelmed with joy to have you back. To hold you in his arms again was just a way of making sure that he knew, that he could not doubt, that you were well and truly back and that, above all else, you were alright. He didn’t even try and hold back the few tears that he dared to shed against your jacket, leaving little wet spots as he did his best not to become too overwhelmed and give himself a headache; but then you pulled away, your eyes glistening with unshed tears as you reached into your pocket, and pulled out the packet of cigarettes that you had managed to save from the wreckage.

“Ale, you want one?”

He nodded, letting you light it for him before he dared to take it, taking a long drag and hoping that it would steady him slightly. “Gracias, mi amado… shit, it’s so good to have you back.”

You smiled when he grinned, nodding slowly as you took a drag from your cigarette and cleared your throat. “Take me home, Ale… please?”

“Of course,” he agreed without even needing to think about it. “But catch your breath a moment… are you sure you’re okay?”

“I’m not broken,” you told him gently, shaking your head. “I’m not broken, I’m not even that bruised - it’s all shit that’s healed over, or mostly healed over.”

“Have the medics checked you over?” He asked, and when you told him that he was the first person you had seen, he sighed. “Come on, we’ll get you checked out by them before we go home, estúpido, you should know that I can wait!”

“Alejandro,” you couldn’t help but to laugh, looking at him so terribly fondly. You didn’t move as he started to walk off.

But then he turned back, and he dared to smile again as he swiped a hand down his face. “Sorry, amor, but-”

“You’re worried,” you dared to catch up to him, taking his hand in yours and daring to rub his knuckles with the pad of your thumb. “I know, but you don’t have to be. I’m alright.”

“I won’t believe that until a medic says otherwise,” Alejandro admitted, scratching his jaw as he let out a long sigh. “Por favor, mi amor, for me?”

You looked him up and down, realising just how worried he was, and you couldn’t help but to nod slowly as you licked your lips. “Alright, alright, for you, I will go and get myself checked out - once I get the all clear, can we please go home?”

He nodded, kissing your forehead as he dared to crack half of a smile. “Of course, but only if you get all the all clear. Is that understood?”

“Yes, Colonel,” you teased, and when he shot you a playful glare, you dared to grin. “Still don’t think I’m perfectly okay?”

“No,” he deadpanned, removing his hand from your grasp so that he could wrap his arm around you, keep you close to his side so that he wouldn’t forget what it felt like to hold you, to be close. “You’re getting checked out by the medics, (y/n), I won’t take you home unless they say you’re fine.”

“You worry too much,” you told him softly, kissing his neck so awfully tenderly. “Y’know that, don’t you?”

“Maybe I do,” he agreed. “But you don’t worry enough, Flight Lieutenant.”

if you liked this fic, REBLOG IT - you SHOULD reblog it; if you don’t wanna reblog, then you’ll get blocked; reblogging is the BARE MINIMUM.

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