#forgive me i've had wine
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non-un-topo · 1 year ago
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This school year just wants to break me so badly and it's only October
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cherriesncinnamon · 1 month ago
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forgive me / father charlie x fem!reader
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synopsis: after recently becoming involved with the catholic church, you soon start having inappropriate fantasies about your priest. desperately wanting to atone, you confess your sins.
warnings/tags: handjob, unprotected sex (don't try this at home), mentions of self harm/repentance, priest x reader (i mean no harm to the catholic community, this is just fiction).
word count: 1.3k.
a/n: sooooo🥰 i'm obsessed with nicholas chavez. i'm not gonna lie, i haven't seen grotesquerie fully, but after seeing his scenes i had to write a one shot about father charlie. this is completely and utterly feral. me when i need him biblically.
link to another father charlie piece i've done due to popular demand!!
︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵
I've never been a religious person. I've always believed that a higher power is unprovable, leading to my agnosticism. My mother is a devout Catholic, but she's never particularly pushed her beliefs onto me. That was until recently when she threatened to disown me if I refused to come to church for another Sunday.
The people are insufferable, the sermons are unstimulating, and I cannot bear knowing I could be doing something much more exciting with my morning. I sit at the very end of the pew, arms crossed in anguish, awaiting a middle aged, balding priest to appear and preach for an hour. But to my surprise, a much younger version emerges instead. Dark thick hair, darling brown eyes, and a charming smile. My eyes widen with intrigue at the strikingly handsome man before me. He begins to speak, walking up and down the rows of people, truly passionate about what he's saying. I'm paying attention to the words, but not so much the message. After the communion and the drinking of the wine, my mother and I mingle for a bit, chatting uselessness to the bored housewives. Church is the only liberating part of their week, and now I know why.
As if by a miracle of God, I become Catholic overnight. My mother is shocked at my interest in coming to church the following week, and the week after that, and that week after that. Each time I see him, my desire intensifies. Knowing that he has taken a vow of celibacy only entices me more. I imagine him bending me over the pews, his singular ring leaving an indent in my upper thigh. I need to confess. I need to release this demon that is plaguing my thoughts.
On a stormy Friday evening, I make my way to the back of the church, placing three hesitant knocks on his office door. The rest of the building is vacant, candle light being my only source of sight. His voices seeps through the door, permitting me to enter.
"Ah, Miss Y/L/N, to what do I owe the pleasure?" He welcomes me in with a warm smile, putting down the pen he was holding to usher me to sit.
"Forgive me Father, for I have sinned. I- I've come to confess." I swallow, stuttering my words in fear. Father Charlie cocks his head in question.
"I see. Anything you say should be in confidence, your confession will be safe with me." He replies, nodding in reassurance. I fiddle with the hem of my skirt in anticipation, heat rising to my cheeks from simply being alone with him. I drape my long hair over my shoulder and clear my throat.
"I've been having impure thoughts, Father."
"Okay. And what do these thoughts detail?" He probes, clasping his hands together on the wooden desk. The Bible sits closed next to him; I can feel it judging me.
"Sexual thoughts. I want to pleasure myself, but I know I can't." I grip at my throat which has become tight, my stomach tingling with the remembrance of my fantasies. Charlie loosens his Roman collar, eyes searching the room for anything to look at besides me.
"I think about you, Father. You punishing me for my sins, taking me, sliding yourself into me." I spill, cheeks on fire and wine red. Father Charlie is quick to stand up from his chair, pacing to the other side of the room.
"I have taken a vow. Please do not seduce me." He begs, reaching for the door handle.
I stand in front of him, his tall frame towering over me, eyes fixated on mine. His chest is heaving, lips slightly parted as he breathes. Standing on the tips of my toes, I whisper.
"Don't you want to know what it feels like, Father? Just once?" My bottom lip lightly grazes his ear lobe, increasing his breathing pace. Our faces are mere centimetres apart, and I'm using all of my might to stop myself tasting him.
"I cannot abandon my faith, I mustn't." He insists, expression pained and frustrated. His brow is furrowed, forehead glazed in sweat. I can tell he is holding himself back with all his strength, and I'm feeling brave.
I take my fingertips and slide them over his clothed cock, smiling as it hardens under my gentle touch. Charlie goes to remove my hand, but quickly retracts when I speed up, using my palm to add pressure. I slowly undo his leather belt, lifting the waistband of his black pants. Taking him in my grasp, I stroke his thick length, watching in euphoria as his head tips back in bliss. His hands seek the stability of the doorframe for support, his knees weakening more every second.
"Feel me." Slipping my panties to the side, I guide his fingers to my pussy, slick with my arousal, begging for contact.
"Oh, forgive me Lord." He cries out, teasing my entrance with his digits while I excite his tip dripping pre-cum with my thumb. He stares at me in awe when I lick myself off his fingers, cock throbbing, veins pulsing blood into him until he's unbearably hard.
Hungry for my kiss, he devours my lips, biting my bottom lip playfully. Our tongues slide across one another, his hands gripping the sides of my face. He tastes like the Merlot we have at communion; sweet and fruity. My hands snake around his neck, twirling the thick locks of hair at the nape. His lips take interest elsewhere, peppering erotic pecks across my jaw, to my neck, and to my chest. I unbutton my white dress shirt, revealing my braless breasts. His eyes widen, immediately manhandling and kissing the supple skin.
"I want to feel you inside of me. Please, Father." I moan, perching myself on the edge of his desk, skirt hiked up to my hips. I spread my legs wide, fully revealing myself to him. He exhales in defeat, slotting himself between me.
Charlie rests his hands on either side of me on the desk while I line up his cock to my entrance, pushing my hips towards him. Grabbing my waist, he enters me, his length filling my walls like a glove. His voice groans deeply against my neck, his hand pressed on my lower back for support. His thrusts start off slow and juvenile, but quickly speed up to a pace we both can't take for long. I wrap my legs around him, pulling him in deeper. I moan sweet noises with every movement and caress, realising that this is better than I could've imagined.
"You feel so good, this feels so good." He sobs, nails digging into my hips so hard they leave streaks of blood. The cross around his neck swings in my face, reminding me of how sin can feel so good.
Waves of pleasure wash over me, the coil inside of me tightening by the second. I pull the back of his head close to me as my climax arrives. I bite his lip hard in satisfaction, tasting his blood on my tongue. It's not long before he follows in a moaning mess, burying his head into my chest, grabbing my breast as his warm cum fills me.
It takes a minute of getting our breaths back to move. I use a tissue to wipe his seed off my thighs. Father Charlie hastily redresses, fixing his collar and clutching his necklace.
"Lord, forgive me. Forgive me for this cardinal sin. Forgive me for enjoying it." He prays on his knees, staring up at a portrait of God. I place my hand on his back, feeling some guilt.
"I need to repent. You need to punish me." He says, picking up his leather belt from the floor and placing it in my hands.
"How can something that feels like this be a sin?" He asks me, tears in his eyes. I shake my head, not knowing the answer myself. He takes his shirt off, showing me his scarred back.
"Punish me, please."
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katskitoshi · 3 months ago
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I'M BEGGING FOR THE INAZUMA VERSION OF A FAVOR WITH A FAVOR 😭
"FAVOR FOR A FAVOR," with GENSHIN IMPACT.
synopsis: he helps you with something and it's only fair you pay him back, right? (mondstadt vers.) (liyue vers.)
characters (part one): dom! ayato, (modern au!)thoma, gorou, itto x gn! sub! reader
includes: massages, perverted behaviors, handjobs, blowjobs, face fucking, masturbation mentions, stuck in a washing machine, cumming outside, cumming inside, outdoor sex, marking, facials, knots.
note: can you guys tell i'm just winging it with these characters? haha, its been a while since i've played inazuma and i’m confident to say i don't think i've characterized them too well. please forgive me if they're too out of character. ^.^
ayato, the pillar of fortitude: a happy ending.
during your stay in inazuma, ayato is insistent on allowing you to stay at the kamisato residence and partake in many cultural and ceremonial events without spending a single mora from your pocket. even though he insists that you don't need to repay him, you're awfully insistent on returning the favor tenfold.
--it started as a massage. your hands had ran along his muscly back, arms, shoulders, and eventually his legs. you massaged his calves and thighs, aiming to get more and more stress out from his tense muscles. you drank is his soft gasps and little praises like a fine wine as your eyes continuously wandered upwards to his groin, covered my only a thin cloth.
your hands had stopped massaging and began to simply slide up and down his thighs as you imagined your hands on his cock instead. what would it look like? it was certainly big, for one thing. you doubted he was hard, but you could see the slight imprint of the appendage against the loin cloth he wore. would it be veiny, like his hands?
maybe he used a toy, or humped a pillow, though you didn't strike him as the type. what did he think about when he wrapped his hands around it? was it a person, a past fling, a future fantasy? what if he was thinking about you? what positions would he put you in? would he let you ride him? would he bend you over his work desk? maybe he'd fuck you right against the walls while one of his loyal servants was just outside the door. would he let you sit in front of him as he jerked off, making you watch and not touch him or yourself?
fuck, your thighs instinctively clenched together as you reached for his clothed cock subconsciously. you're snapped out of it as a veiny hand grabs your reaching wrist. "and what do you think you're doing?" ayato asks with a warm, yet condescending tone. you look up at him in shock, but desperation in your eyes. "i- nothing, my lord. please forgive me." you bow your head, but you don't feel any remorse. you want to see it, you want to feel it in your palm. warm, throbbing, and leaking over your fingers.
"it didn't look like 'nothing' to me, darling." through his bangs, his cold eyes look at the crown of your head and he smiles. you meet his frozen gaze with a gasp of surprise as you feel your hand touch his cock over the cloth. you look up at him, your own eyes clouded with lust and desperation, and he chuckles.
"isn't this what you wanted? to feel me?" he uses his hold on yoru wrist to guide yoru hand over the phallus, nearly fully erect. just feeling it, even with a piece of cloth separating the two of you makes your thighs clench even more, and your mouth open in a breathless whimper. "i know you want to repay your favor, so how about you do it this way, hm? i could really use a massage somewhere else,"
his hand no longer holds your wrist, and you jump at the chance you're given to remove the cloth. when you see it, a glob of drool escapes your lips. you could cum just from the sight. it was slightly darker than the rest of his body, with the cutest blushing tip, and to your predictions, it was veiny. there was a prominent one along the underside that wrapped around to top at it's head. and he was leaking. a milky-clear drop of precum slipped down his shaft, and you wanted nothing more than to lap at it until you were given the real thing.
"what are you waiting for? i give you full permission to quench your desires." you don't waste a second. as much as you wish to admire the beauty of his cock, you're desperate to have it an your hands and eventually in your mouth. your right hand stays near the base while your left focuses on the head. you slowly drag your hand up and down, relishing in the feeling of it in your hand. warm and thick, but you don't waste time. you wanted him warm, throbbing, and leaking in your hand and now you have him like that.
using your fingers to glide over the tip, collecting precum and spreading it along the remainder of his cock, you begin pumping at a steady pace. you focus on the monster in your hands and ayato focuses on the devout look on your face and expressed through your body. heaving chest, clenched thighs, shortness of breath. you were a mess, and he loved it.
you spit on your palm and used it as extra lubrication to move faster. you leaned your face in closer to it and give it multiple kisses along it's length, and a one on the tip before licking a drop of precum from it's opening. fuck, it tasted good too. you continued to lick at the tip and ayato's hand found its way in your hair, urging you to take more.
you looked up at him with lidded, lustful eyes, keeping eye contact as you placed the tip of his cock in your mouth. he bucked his hips slightly, his thighs clenching and his head being thrown back as you began suckling on the tip. "good, good, fuck! you're so good," he moaned, "you can take a bit more, yeah? course you can, you're my good darling."
you take more into your mouth, drinking up his groans of satisfaction and words of praise like his precum. what you don't fit in your mouth is jerked off by your left hand, while your right hand holds his balls in your hand, slightly fondling them. your tongue drags against the underside of his lock, running along the vein and taking in the taste of him. "ha, ha, ha, oh fuck!" he throws his head back, the arm not on your head being thrown over his face. he was loud, and he didn't give a single fuck.
at the last second, you pull off his cock and jerk it really fast. his eyes roll to the back of his head as ropes of white cum paint itself on your face. some land on your face, others on your tongue, and some end up on yoru clothing. you don't mind, you scoop up the cum, where ever it lands, and place it into your mouth. you swallow audibly, opening your mouth to show ayato you swallowed every drop you got in your mouth.
he pants with a flushed expression as he looks at you. "you're so fucking slutty," he tips your face up at him, using his thump to wipe some cum off your cheek and place it in your mouth as he grips your chin, "and i fucking love it." he grabs you by your neck, pulling you to straddle his lap, his cock rubbing against your aroused groin. he kisses your neck then whispers in your ears, "fuck, i'm gonna give you your own little happy ending, alright?"
thoma, protecter from afar: washing machine heart.
for all the favors he's done for you, you feel like you owe him your life! but he's too humble for that. however, he won't pass up on an opportunity to finally relieve himself of stress when you give him permission to use you after you get stuck in a washing machine.
he feels like the world's biggest pervert. taking the chance the opportunity you offered him to fuck his coworker while you're stuck in a washing machine?! it feels like something straight out of a porno he'll find himself watching in the late ours of the night while beating his cock. yet, you feel so much better than his fist and he thinks he might just be addicted.
"ah~! you're too good! s-so wet and tight and, nghh!"
he moans, and the echo of the inside of the machine reverberates the sounds of your own as thoma's cock reaches each sensitive spot inside of you. his hands grip onto your hips as pushes himself deeper inside your walls.
"wish i could see your face so bad. bet you look so cute gettin fucked and i can't even see it."
he says through clenched teeth. evident by the way he seems to fuck you with more urgency.
"'ts not fair. s'not fair," he whines, "too good. you're too good 'nd i can't even see your face. w-we'll just have to do this another time, right baby? so we can see each other faces and i can make sure you get pampered like the perfection you are."
"okay, thoma. we can do it again. i promsie."
at your words, thoma begins to hump you even faster, you can feel water drip on your lower back. were they tears or drool from the pent of pervert behind you?
thoma dips his hand below you to play with your sex, and with a few more thrusts, you cum around his cock, an he pulls out just in time to paint you ass and lower back white. he pants, admiring the sight for a few seconds before helping you out of the machine you were stuck in.
"why didn't you cum inside?"
he kisses you before gently pulling away.
"i promise i will one day soon. when we can really feel each other and i can give you the proper foreplay and worship you deserve. wanted the first time i cum inside of you to be when i look you in your eyes. "
gorou, canine warrior: promises kept.
gorou is a busy hybrid, so he isn't left with much time to relieve himself. after taking time out of his especially busy schedule to help you with a mundane task, you feel the need to repay him. you catch him jerking off and think of the perfect way to repay the favor.
--"fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck~! you're too good to me, puppy!" the canine hybrid moans as he pushes your head further down his cock. his hips are swift and unstopping as drool escapes from your lips and your hand shoots between your thighs to play with your aroused sex.
how was the little shiba inu general of watatsumi able to fuck like a full grown wolf?
the roll of his hips slowed as the hybrid watches your eyes roll back. he only lets out a short breath before gently bringing one of his hands to your forehead and wiping a bead of sweat from your brow. your eyes connect with his as he licks the sweat off his thumb with a low growl.
"you're too sweet, can't promise i won't just sink my teeth in and never let go, ah-"
he's cut off my a small whimper as your purposefully rub your tounge along the underside of his cock, looking up at his with playful eyes that make his tail swish like never before. his head rolls back as his hips begin to move again. this time, slower, but focusing on hitting deeper against the back of your throat.
"nghhhh, i love you so much. you're too good to me, way too fucking good. m'gonna stuff your little hole full as soon as m'done marking my territory all over this pretty little face of yours. not gonna stop until one of us are limp from pleasure, pup."
gorou's hips focus on both speed and precision now, clearly chasing his own high through your throat. his head is thrown back as little whimpers and moans escape his lips. he mutters small promises of marking you and making sure you're filled to brim. ones you know he has no intentions of breaking.
especially when his thrust pick up speed for a few pumps then he abruptly pulls you off his cock to have rope after rope of creamy cum to paint your face and chest. his balls clench as he pumps the last load right onto your awaiting face. your hands speed up two, and you find yourseld cumming at the same time as him.
gorou feels himself harden up again just seeing your fucked out expression. from pure arousal, from the high of your orgasm, and from the face fucking you just received. his hand cups your cheek, and he kisses you gently. its a complete opposite from the treatment he just gave you.
the kisses get deeper and deeper until your hands are tangled in his hair and his are on your waist. he licks a stripe down to your nape, his sharp teeth grazing the tender flesh before he sinks them in, you let out a moan of surprise, and he leaves a few more marks across your neck.
he pulls from your neck and hovers himself over you, suddenly flipping you so you're flat against the floor. he uses your hips to pull your lower half up and curve you into a nice arch. the hybrid's hands grasp your ass, fondling the cheeks a bit before he takes a bite, leaving a hickey.
"promised i would mark you 'nd i did, didn't i? now i just gotta fill you up till one of us passes out from exhaustion."
gorou leans over your back, to whisper in your ear as he lines up his cock with your hole.
"and i promise it won't be me."
itto, the one and oni: take me before you join me.
you had challenged one of his gang members to try to become a member of his gang. and right before the fight can actually start, you realize you're severely outmatched. luckily, the gang's leader saves you before you can get your ass handed to you. you thank him, and the only thing he wants in return for saving your ass is a piece of it.
"come on baby, you've almost got me! just a few more inches to go!" he playfully taunts, watching as you practically try to crawl away from the huge cock that penetrated your hole. you let out breathless moans as your insides tried to suck in the phallus. your body was already giving in, but a small part of your rational mind knew that he was too big to handle.
you look over your shoulder at him, face warm and flushed with tears. behind your eyes, he can see you're already losing to the pleasure you're getting from him. and yet, you still try to grip onto the stone walls of the building he fucks you against and crawl away.
"its so cute! yer body's already giving into me yet yer still insisting on this song and dance that i'm too big to take."
he punctuates his words with a thrust, getting at least another inch inside. you let out a pathetically loud moan and quickly cover your mouth in shame. more moans leave you as itto's hand slaps your ass and pulls you further back to meet his pelvis. "sh-shit! you're so damn tight and soooo loud. not that i mind, but are you trying to let the whole damn city know you're getting plowed by the arataki itto?"
finally, the oni has your ass firm against his pelvis. nearly every single inch of his cock inside of your warm walls, and they clench deliciously around him. you can tell by the satisfied growl then repeated smacking of you ass. ugh, it would be so sore tomorrow. but you can't even think about it before itto starts a harsh pace.
rythmatic moans escape you. instead of attempting to crawl away from his cock, you grip the stone to stabilize yourself. you even began pushing back against him, attempting to meet him halfway, but he was too fast for you to match his quick thrusts.
"ah, shit! ittoooo~!" you pants, tears falling down yoru cheek in pure pleasure. when his hand wraps around your waist to not only support you from below, but to play with yoru sex, you cum on the spot, wailing his name like its the only word you know.
the oni only laughs, his pace unrelenting as he works you through your high while chasing his own. by the way he suddenly gets faster with the rolls of his hips, you can say that he's getting closer and closer.
"you knew you were outmatched by that small fry in a fight yet you still decided to fuck the big guy, huh?"
he movies his hand from your sex and grips your neck, turning your head to face him. as you look at him over your shoulder, you can see the evil smirk on his face.
"but theres something you still havent accounted for, baby."
and suddenly, you feel it. you feel him. your mouth opens in a breathless gasp as yoru eyes roll to the back of your head. his knot, at least the size of your fist, gets thrusted in the entrance of your hole, and you cum a second time in sync with the oni.
ropes of warm white liquid fill your walls and you drool in satisfaction. even with the knot plugging your entrance, steaks of cum still drip from yoru hole around it. you can barely see it, but itto breifly pouts at the sight of his load being wasted.
you pant out his name, but theres no answer. that is until you hiss at the feeling of your ass being slapped again.
"can't believe you thought you could be one of us when yer so weak.." he whispered.
"you're not joining my gang till you take my cock and knot without spilling even a drop of my cum. and since the great arataki ittos so nice, i'll give you a second chance right now."
(mondstadt vers.) (liyue vers.)
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the-monstermash · 3 months ago
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UNBROKEN BETROTHALS
Aemond Targaryen x Reader
Synopsis: After running away from an unwanted proposal, you find yourself working in a brothel as a cook. When a certain guest takes an odd liking to you, secrets are revealed and betrothals unbroken
Warnings: Angst, Brothels, Mature, 18+, Eventual Smut, Explicit Language
Word Count: 2,187
> **A/N:** AHHHHHH this is my first character fic, and only the second one I've ever been brave enough to post! I also had to post this on mobile because my browser was being wild so sorry for any formatting issues!
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The sound of senseless fucking had never seemed to bother you. Easy to filter out, truthfully, and not as traveling as one would think it to be. No, there are many things worse, like for instance the smell. One never takes into account the smell of sex, much less the smell of alcohol fueled, desperate, old haggard men driving the last of their life-force into some disinterested cunny eager to make a coin. Eager to spend a coin, as well.
That's where you came in. Whores work up quite an appetite, one you are all too happy to satisfy, no pun intended. You'd been with Sylvi for years, after you'd run from your family in the dead of night, afraid of the life they'd planned for you.
"Everybody must eat," Sylvi sighed the night she met you, disinterested. "If you will not fuck, you will feed. We earn our keep around these parts, you'll do well to learn quickly."
That was the start of a very standoffish, albeit maternal, relationship. Sylvi had never truly cared for your company, but she cared for you, and that was more than many could say, and more than you could say of any kin. She had taken you in, given you shelter among her girls, and had asked very little of you, knowing your past. She'd seen you into young womanhood, and taught you all you wished to know about life. She was not coddling, nor cruel. She was just what you needed, and it seemed many shared the sentiment.
You were in a daydream as you went about your nightly tasks. The brothel would be closing in a few hours, the girls would need food, and you had really set into it, working quick and messily, spinning and turning about in an attempt to do too many things at once.
Just as you'd turned from the broth and made way to the oven, a wall had manifested itself and blocked your passage. No, not really a wall. Moreso a tree, in it's slender and sharp way. The branches had reached out to hold you, wrapping around your waist and breaking you from your reverie. Suddenly before you was a bare chest, pale in color and smooth like silk. He was taught with muscle, cut like marble. The kind of statue kings pay fortunes for, just to place in their hallway and walk past every morning.
"Sir, no one is meant in the kitchens." You had spoken before you'd had the chance to understand what you were saying, turning from him and back towards your oven to retrieve the loaves. "You'll need to return back to the brothel, Sylvi will not have men in her kitchen."
"'Twas Sylvi that sent me. I've come for wine." The voice was quiet, but in a way that made the ears strain to hear him, instead of drown him out.
Wine? Why would he not stop at the many*tables he'd have to pass to get here?You'd thought. This man must have ill intentions.
Slowly grabbing your bread knife, you turned your head to the side to face the intruder.
Prince Aemond Targaryen.
"My Prince! " The sound of metal rang through the room as you dropped the blade unto the table to turn fully towards him. "My sincerest apologies, my prince! Please forgive me, I had no idea!" You did your best curtsy, and prayed to the Seven that he wouldn't find me impertinent, and would be in a forgiving mood. What you'd just done could be viewed as treason, an attempt on the prince's life.
In the state he was in, which you had noticed, you surmised he just might be in a forgiving mood. He was nude from head to toe, his brow beaded from heat and, hopefully, exertion. The hook of his nose looked sharper as his purple eye followed it to look down at you. He was beautiful, almost overly so. It could only have been Prince Aemond, the eye patch gave him away, even though you'd never seen him before, you'd be a fool not to know the stories of the one-eyed prince. And you'd known him to be a rather fond client of Sylvi's, as she boasted often to the other girls at dinner.
His presence there in your safe haven was unnerving, and once again the sounds of debauchery were drowned out, but now it was as if he'd sucked the noise from the room. He was too tall for the room, it was not made for him. What would a kitchen made for a God even look like? The very notion to build such a thing seemed almost blasphemous to you. He was looking at you like you didn't even exist, almost through you. His stare was too deep for that of a stranger, but perhaps he had to look so intensely because his lack of an eye.
He finally cleared his throat, as if it would've pained him to repeat himself.
"The wine, yes. We are a humble establishment, so you will have to be forgiving with our selection. I'll have our best sent to you at once!" And with that, he let out a low hum and left you to your duties.
You'd quickly managed a carafe and two goblets, and sent it through with a boy, with strict instructions to deliver it to the prince. You'd have delivered it yourself, but as you did not know where he was, and did not have the time searching the brothel for him, you'd relented to send it through a lord's boy, and hope he was competent enough to manage it.
As the sounds died out from the front of the house, you'd began shuffling out with bowls of broth and loaves for the girl. They took it gratefully, each dropping two coins in your hands and sitting to eat, sharing small talk and whatever gossip they had learned from their clients.
"Ser Lannister had quite a bit to share tonight. He speaks of war. Do you know what war means?" Lauryn spoke excitedly.
"Rapers." Another girl, Cate called from farther away, monotone. "Foreign men coming into the city in siege, taking over the villages."
"It means more clients, Cate." Sylvi's voice quickly silenced the small talk, as she walked to the table and sat, ready to be served her complimentary meal. Her place at the table, as always, was already set, and she reached for her wine immediately. "War means the king calls for more men. They leave their wives, and with no one to warm their bed, they come to us."
"Precisely." Lauryn agreed readily. "If war comes, I welcome it. I don't give a shit who sits the throne, as long as the crown prospers enough to put gold in my pocket." She lifted her goblet, a smirk on her face at her own clever musing.
"I'll drink to that." Another girl called from the back, which caused an rupture of quiet laughter through the room.
As you passed to fill an empty cup, Sylvi grabbed you arm, and pulled you in close enough to whisper.
"I require a moment with you." At your confirming nod, she raised from her seat and left to her room. You were quick to follow, leaving the carafe with the girls, who took it readily and saluted your departure.
Once in her lavish rooms, Sylvi sat at her vanity and peered at you through the mirror, an air of drama filled the room and caused you to rock on your toes in an attempt to soothe yourself.
"I see you've met the Prince."
Oh. You'd thought surely this would be a serious conversation, but as you had spoken so few words to the man, you could not see how possibly she could have taken issue with your conversation. Unless the prince had told her about your grabbing the knife, in which you were in deep shit.
"Yes, ma'am." You sat in an armchair and folded your hands in your lap. "He came to ask for wine, and I had some sent with a squire, I believe."
"He seemed to take a liking to you." She brushed off your words just as she now did her hair, her lips pressed into a tight line that betrayed her nonchalant tone. "He asked for you, the next time he graced us with his patronage."
Your throat tightened and your stomach lurched. This can't be. Your conversations were short, and you had nearly insulted him, and then only half obeyed his order by sending someone in your stead with the wine. Perhaps he hoped for a moment alone so he could punish you for your insolence. Perhaps he was just playing at a joke, and Sylvi had taken it for more than he had meant it. Though he did not seem to you a joking type, and Sylvi seemed sure in her words.
Would she sell you to the prince? It hardly seemed as though you would be in a position to refuse, should he insist on a private meeting with you. But perhaps Sylvi had a sway with the prince that others did not.
"I...don't understand, ma'am. I do not-"
"Of course, I told him you were not that type of girl." She reassured. "He listens to me, you know. I'm one of the only he bears his heart to." Her voice took on a dreamier tone. "I'm the only woman he's known."
"I had no idea." I spoke distantly, still reeling at the idea of being asked for personally, and by a man of such high standing.
"What did you say to him? When he came to the kitchens. I sent him for wine, and he comes back without wine, and with a sudden interest in you" She turns around now, her eyes appraising and scrutinizing.
"I did not say anything, ma'am. I had mistaken him for a mere lord at first, I told him to leave. And then he ordered the wine, and I told him it would be done! I promise, there was nothing untoward, and no advances."
You spoke at a mile a minute to plead your case. It was clear this woman had an attachment to the prince, and you would not give the impression that you were there to threaten it. Sylvi was a kind woman, but a burn so scalding might just scorch her heart enough to cast you out.
"I swear it to you, ma'am. I've no interest in the prince, and he none in me. If anything, he only wishes to punish me privately for the way I behaved before I knew he was the prince." She nodded at your words.
"Nonetheless, I let him know you were not available. He did not take the refusal well, but such is his way. Dragons are not used to the word 'no'." She readjusted and smiled at you. "It's nothing to worry at, my dear. Just go about your duties, and do not speak to the prince again. He'll forget you in time." You nodded and stood to leave.
"Thank you. You've done such a kindness for me, and I owe you my life. I would never make such a slight against you, please know that." Her dismissing nod and small tired smile was enough for you to turn and take your leave.
The women had filled their bellies of wine and broth, and some began to make way to their beds, others staying around to gossip. You approached the lingering girls, grabbing a loaf from the table and sitting on a chair to eat.
"So, will you?" Lauryn, who still remained, asked you, as if the incomplete question was all you needed to know. When you only responded with a questioning look, she rolled her eyes and scoffed. "Will you fuck him? Everyone here heard the prince and Sylvi's clash. He wanted you. He begged for you!" The other girls began giggling and wiggling their eyebrows at you. "It drove her mad! He doesn't want her anymore."
"Not wanting Sylvi is one thing, but wanting you is another." Another girl, Maria, a Dornish delicacy, played with her hair as she spoke with a natural coolness. "If you don't want to, of course you shouldn't, but you should consider it. A prince would pay handsomely, perhaps even enough for you to move on."
"I would not do that to Sylvi, I would not do it at all. I wouldn't even know how, I'm not versed in the...fetishes of men."
"She told him such, but he would not hear it. He asked for an exception to be made, perhaps a private arrangement. If anything, it seemed to appeal to him more, knowing you were still untouched." Lauryn jumped back in, eager to return back to her teasing.
"I would only lay with a man I chose. I did not have the option before I left home, but I do now, and I will choose myself who I bed." And with that, you stood to leave, retiring to your room for the night.
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written-in-flowers · 6 months ago
Text
His Darling: Demon!San x Fem!reader
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Pairing: Incubus!San x Fem!Human!Reader | side pairing: yunho x reader, demonline x reader
Word Count: 10k
Genre: Smut (loads), slight angst MINORS DNI
Summary: San shows you his room and tells you exactly what he wants in a "housewife". He also shows you the benefits of keeping him happy.
Tags: enslavement, master/slave relationship, polyamorous relationship, demon!ateez, human!reader, stereotypical gender roles, gender norms, slight misogynistic ideals, mentions of domestic violence, childhood trauma, bigdick!san, incubus!san, breeding kink (serious one lol), thigh riding, voyeurism, handjob, dirty talking, light spanking, table sex, clothed man/naked woman, unprotected sex, vaginal sex, monster fucking, demon fucking, Yunho walks in on it and watches. You're their slave, and you're treated that way.
Previously on Pretty Pet > His Kitten: Seonghwa
***
“-What do we do? I've never handled a human slave before. What do they eat?”
“Food, I imagine.”
“Yes, but what? And what about her grooming? Has Wooyoung styled a human before?” 
“No idea. All I know is what Yunho told me…”
You heard their voices above you, but you could not place them. A low groan escaped you as the aftermath of last night made itself known again. Every appendage felt sore and heavy, and your innards might have actually been rearranged. You almost did not comprehend your hunger until you'd completely woken up. Is this how you'd wake up every morning? 
“Wake up,” a soft voice commanded. “We have a lot to do before you're presentable. Let's get moving.”
“Yeosang” the harder toned voice said, “Don't be so aggressive this early in the morning. She hasn't fully adjusted to this yet. She needs space to process.”
“Ugh, ‘space to process’. Yes, tell that to Yunho and see how that goes for you. He's already in a mood after having to bury that idiot slaver. Go ahead and tell him you diverted from his schedule.”
“That isn't what I meant-”
You finally opened your eyes to see two men on either side of your bed. Each of them wore black suits and had black upturned horns. One was significantly more petite and paler than the other. A red wine birthmark covered the side of his eye, contrasting with his fair skin. The other on the right was a round faced demon with dark brown hair. He carried an innocent, soft expression while his companion looked on sternly. 
“Who are you?” You croaked through your strained throat.
They both finally acknowledged you. “Oh,” the dark haired demon grinned, “I'm Jongho.”
“And I'm Yeosang. We're your new handlers. Now, get up. We have to get you groomed before the Masters wake up.” 
Yeosang turned and walked away to the tall double doors. Jongho stayed at your side, “Forgive him. They told him about you this morning, and he's been cranky ever since. He claims it ‘threw him off’.” 
He pulled down the fluffy bed covers from you, revealing your naked body to the sunlit room. He acted as if he didn’t notice your nudity, and offered you his arm. This proved helpful since you didn't see the platform step and nearly tripped into his arms. Your legs and knees quaked weakly once you stood up, and you winced from the stinging between your legs. 
“The only downside to good sex, huh?” He quipped, giving a knowing smile. 
“Yeah.”
“Don't worry,” he picked up a thin, white chemise from a nearby chair, “The bath Master San prepared will help with that. He said a bit of soothing salt will take it away.” You lifted your arms for him to slip the chemise over you, “Let's get you washed up before Yeosang comes back whining again. You'll get used to his little tantrums soon enough,” he linked his arm with yours to help you walk properly, “Wrath demons can be so sensitive. I told him we should give you a minute to adjust and he was all ‘Yunho will get mad’. Ugh…”
You hadn't noticed the room last night, but now seeing it full of sunlight, you took in the splendor. White paneled walls inlaid with gold surrounded the room’s oak wood floors and went up high into the ceiling. You saw an oak vanity, a wardrobe cabinet, dresser and a desk around the room. It was a step up from the singular room in the bowels of the brothel. At least here you had privacy and fresh air through the tall windows. 
Jongho brought you into a tiled room where a large bathtub sat in the very middle. White bubbles floated along the top of the steaming water, the soothing scent of lavender reaching your nose. You couldn’t remember the last time you had a proper bath; you usually did a quick wipe down to keep the fluids from crusting on your skin. Yeosang rolled over a small cart ladened with various tubs and bottles you only assumed were meant for bathing. Big eyes looked up to the fake horns still on your head, and he forced you down into a seat. 
“These look ridiculous,” he huffed, peeking through the roots to see where the braiding kept it on your head. With expert fingers and a fine-toothed comb, he gradually began undoing them. “Good thing they didn’t use stronger glue. We might not have been able to remove these,” he said once he finished with one side. “Those city slavers are true scoundrels. I don’t blame Master San for slitting the man’s throat.”
“Oh dear,” Jongho frowned, “Had they glued on a tail?”
“Yes,” you nodded. 
“Why?” asked Yeosang. 
Jongho lifted your chemise to show the scabbed area. “I hope it doesn’t scar,” he said. “Master Seonghwa won’t like that.”
“Hm, doesn’t seem too bad to me,” Yeosang said, resuming his horn removal. “We’ll apply some ointments to avoid scarring and infection. Get the tub ready.” 
When he removed the second “horn”, you breathed a sigh of relief. This did not last long because Yeosang and Jongho lifted the chemise off your body, and put you into the tub. Neither of them said anything as they went about the bathroom. Each of them took a side of the tub: Jongho dipped a soft cloth into the water to start cleaning your grimy skin while Yeosang squirted a pink substance into your hair. 
“Who is Yunho?” you asked out of curiosity, watching Jongho begin washing between your fingers and under your nails. 
“He’s the Head of House here,” said Yeosang, spreading the shampoo in your hair. “We all answer to him, including you.”
“I thought Hongjoong-”
“-Master Hongjoong, girl,” he said sternly, digging into your scalp. You didn’t know how he managed to scrub it, but he did. “They are your masters now; that is how you address them at all times. Even if they’re not in the room, you show your respect and gratitude. Understand?”
“Yes.”
“As I was saying,” he continued, pouring water into your hair with a cup and continuing to scrub more, “Yunho is the Head of House-”
“-He means the house staff-” Jongho explained. 
“-And he’s in charge of anything having to do with the domestics in the house,” he said. “This includes kitchen and housekeeping duties. Now that the masters have a slave, you indirectly fall under his care. He will be your communication between the masters and you when they’re not present. Anything regarding you is taken directly to him, and he decides how to proceed from there.”
“Indirectly?”
“He’s our boss, technically,” Jongho said, starting to gently wipe at your neck, face and chest. “Yeosang is the Chief Handler, so he takes care of everything concerning you: grooming, training, and well being. I’m his assistant. Let’s say you fall ill, Yeosang takes care of getting to the doctor, medicine and other medical needs while I make sure you are as comfortable as possible.” 
“You mentioned someone named Wooyoung?” you asked next, wiping water from your eyes when he finished. 
“He’s a slave groomer,” Yeosang told you. He rinsed out your hair as best as he could, then decided a second wash was needed. You felt his fingers digging into your scalp as if doing so loosened the oils left there. You wanted to protest, but you felt that would be pointless. “He is the best. He’ll be in charge of your physical appearance and your wardrobe. Apparently, the masters demanded you have three separate wardrobes, but I imagine he’ll be handsomely paid for the work.”
“Are there other slaves here?”
“You mean, pleasure slaves like you?”
“Yes.”
“No. The Masters never bothered with pleasure slaves up until recently. They usually called on a brothel owner to bring his prettiest ones, and they’d have their fun with that. I guess having one pleasure slave is cheaper in the long run.”
“They’d mentioned something about making me into what they want,” you said. “I’m not sure what they meant by that.”
“Me neither,” Jongho mused, cleaning your legs and feet. “I suppose they are bored with the succubi the brothel people bring. A lot of them are trained in the same classical way, so perhaps they wanted something new?”
“It doesn’t matter,” Yeosang said, running a thin white liquid through your hair, “It’s not our place to question their motives.” The new shampoo stung your scalp, and you reached up to touch it before he swatted your hands away. “It’s a pest treatment.”
“I do not have pests!” you exclaimed in shock. 
“Judging by how this is foaming in your hair, yes, you did,” he started running another comb over only the roots before loosening into the rest of your hair, “I don’t know how they bedded you last night. You’re filthy.”
“It’s not her fault, Yeosang,” Jongho came to your defense, rinsing the body wash off your skin. “Those lower class brothels are infested with disease and filth.” 
“I am not dirt-”
“-Save it,” Yeosang cut you off. “As I said, the masters have their reasons and we have no right to question them.” 
“But we can wildly speculate,” Jongho grinned. “She deserves to know why they chose her over a succubus or another type of demon. It must be confusing for her.”
“It can’t be that confusing. Why does it even matter? She is here now, and that’s it. End of story.”
“They never showed interest in the sinners outside of entertainment before.”
“Sex is another form of entertainment, Jongho.”
“Yes, but they usually mate with other demons, not humans. I’m only saying it is strange. Do you think they did it to spite Her?”
“Who?” you asked, squeezing your eyes as Yeosang rinsed the treatment out in a separate bucket. When he pulled you away, you saw all the dirt he’d removed.You gasped at the tiny dots floating in the water. 
“Their mother,” Yeosang said, pulling you back in front of him. This time he slathered a mint-colored paste through your strands. “And no. In order to spite someone, you must actually care what they think.” 
Jongho finished scrubbing you with the first wash, then pulled out two scrubbing brushes. From a small white tub, he began smearing an exfoliant on your skin. It tingled and smelled of cucumber. “She won’t be pleased when she hears they have a pleasure slave now.” 
“And that will be of no concern to them.” He let the paste sit in your hair, and joined Jongho in lathering you in the pale green cleanser. “Stand up.”
“What?”
“Stand up. We need to wash all of you before we apply the body toner, the exfoliant, the mud masks, and the serums and oils,” he said. “I told you this would be a long process. Stand up.”
You stood up, the air chilling your wet skin, and the two men started scrubbing. Their brushes scratched your skin raw, removing layers of grime and oil from you. You thought more about your new masters. You remembered them mentioning their plans for you. Hongjoong wanted the “perfect submissive”. Seonghwa wanted a “doll”. San wanted a “wife”. You assumed they couldn’t achieve their wishes with any regular slave, so they needed a slave from a lower level brothel. The high-class demon slaves must be a dime a dozen to these demon lords. With you, they believe they have a slave with no particular talents or skills. You didn't dare mention that you'd technically lied, but it's not your fault they never asked. If they want to shape you, you'd let them. You'd do anything to avoid going back to the brothel; not when you have such a good thing going here. 
You jumped when a cold hand touched between your legs. Yeosang said nothing as he covered your sex in a bright blue foam. Since it lacked any sensuality, you couldn’t help feeling a bit of embarrassment. 
“Does it sting?” he asked you from his crouched position. 
“No?”
“Good. Then that means there are no lesions we have to worry about.” 
You yelped next when Jongho applied the same foam to your backside. “Sorry,” he giggled, “I should have warned you first. The masters asked us to do a thorough clean up before Wooyoung arrives.” 
“I will say,” Yeosang said, “You do have a very nice body. I can see why the masters took you right away, filth and all.”
“Um, thank you?”
“Take it,” Jongho whispered when he stood behind you, “It’s the closest you’ll get to a compliment.” 
Jongho applied lotion to your top half while Yeosang took care of the bottom half. The same was done when they took you to a chair near the window. As Jongho cleaned, cut and shaped your nails, Yeosang did the same with your toes. You thought it might fall under Wooyoung’s jurisdiction, but you didn’t question it. Your head went back to wrapping itself around everything happening. You clearly have entered a new class of slave, and you didn’t know if that was good or bad. You aren’t particularly special apart from being moderately good at things and a damned human soul. What interest would they have in that? If they grew tired of their own kind, you knew they’d eventually lose interest in you too. You shuddered to think what that looked like. 
So, you must do whatever they say. Just like everything in your new life, if you make the higher-ups happy, you stay where you are. You would not have gotten to a top-rank position in your previous life otherwise. 
“Is she presentable?” 
Yunho appeared in the doorway in his black suit, hands behind his back and seriousness on his face. Both Yeosang and Jongho shot up the moment they saw him, not bothered by the tools falling to the floor. 
“Yes, sir,” said Yeosang in a curt nod. 
He walked further into the room and looked over your nude body. “Hm, yes, I suppose this will have to do,” he approved. “Wooyoung is in the dressing room. Take her there, and I’ll send Mingi to meet you. Her breakfast?”
“Cook is already preparing her breakfast as we speak, sir.” 
“The Masters explicitly asked that she maintain a healthy diet,” he said. “They’ve requested three square meals, treats if she’s well behaved and snacks to stave off hunger. I already told Cook how they want her meals planned out. It should be ready by the time Wooyoung finishes. I'll send Mingi to collect her when he's done.”
“Who is Mingi?” 
“Your bodyguard,” he answered, “The Masters insisted you be watched over at all times. Mingi is the best of the best. He will make sure you’re safe when The Masters are absent.”
“That’s…nice of them.”
Yunho stepped forward, “I don’t think you realize exactly who you belong to now, YN. Hongjoong, Seonghwa and San are three of Prince Asmodeus’s many offspring which earns them high-born status and royal titles. They are important men in this realm. They can't be seen owning a dirty pleasure slave. What would people think?”
“I was under the impression they don’t care what anyone thinks.”
He laughed softly, “They don’t and they do simultaneously. Unless you enjoyed being infested with fleas?”
“I didn’t have fleas,” you argued. 
Yunho huffed, “Regardless, Yeosang, they’re waiting in the dressing room.”
“Of course.”
Both Yeosang and Jongho bowed as he left the room. They grabbed a new, thicker chemise for you to wear and took you back through the bedroom and into a separate room. It was a large closet from what you guessed. Women dressed in maid’s outfits walked about the space hanging up clothes, stacking shoeboxes, and storing jewelry. In the middle of the room stood a skinny, black-haired demon in a black suit with shimmering cuffs and hem line. He directed a pair of maids to hang up three black dresses in the second clothing rack instead of the first. 
“Seonghwa is the eldest, so let’s keep this by age order. Hongjoong’s wardrobe is in the middle, thank you,” he said to them. He turned to see Yeosang and Jongho by the dressing room door, and he beamed brightly. “Yeosangie! Jongho! How are you?!”
He hugged both men happily, “So good to see you both again. I thought I’d never get another job in the Black Keep after Mistress left. Where is she?”
“Right here,” Jongho brought you forward. “Wooyoung, this is YN. YN, this is Wooyoung, your groomer.”
“Hello,” you said, trying to smile.
“Aren’t you a beauty?” Wooyoung marveled, walking around you in a circle. “When Yunho told me to expect slum trash, I was expecting matted hair, scars, fleas and sores. This one can almost pass as a demon if you look at her in the right lights. You sure she’s not a cambion?”
“No, she’s not a half-breed,” said Yeosang. “I hope this means you’re satisfied?”
“Very,” he grinned, touching one of your wet locks, “She’s like a fresh canvas. I can’t wait to get started. You two can leave; you, come with me.”
He shooed your handlers away and brought you over to a vanity mirror. Right away, maids surrounded the both of you. Wooyoung dried your hair the way you normally would, taking as much time as he needed, before adding protectants and serums. Your hair smelled like rosemary oil by the time he finished braiding and weaving it into a halo shape. The maids applied light makeup while two more painted your nails in a french manicure. 
“You’re a groomer, huh? Like a stylist, right?”
“Kind of,” he said, walking over to a section separate from the three main clothing stations, “I cater to the upper classes rather than the poorer ones. Rich demons like their slaves to look pretty, and those common stylists simply do not have the vision nor the taste that my clients have. I can make a slum slut look like a princess, while the one you had could barely pass you off as a succubus.” He stood in front of the opposite wall, staring at the different outfits he’d brought with him. “That’s why your masters called on me to dress you.” 
“What are you dressing me with today?”
“I have no idea. They didn’t tell me which of them you’d be with today, so I’ll go with my gut on this. I’ll go with…” he scanned the rack, fingers dancing over the different fabrics before stopping, “Yes, this one should be nice. It’s simple, clean and pretty. You have no idea how many times the word ‘pretty’ was used in that letter. My assistants and I played a drinking game with it.” 
He brought over a short pale blue sundress. It reminded you of the dresses you used to wear at your summer house. Flowing dresses that kept you cool in the summer season and left a bit to the imagination. Your boss at the time loved seeing you in shorter sun dresses, but you only wore those to please him. Sleeping with him got you the office manager position you’d wanted. Your masters reminded you of him in a way: A horny rich man with particular kinks and preferences. Back then, you played whatever trope your lover wanted. You endured their flirtations because it meant you’d climb higher on the ladder; you’d have more money, more freedom. 
When you died in that club bathroom, you lost all of that. 
Yeosang and Jongho returned, followed by another man. He stood taller than both of them, with long blond hair he kept to his shoulders. Like most of the house staff, he wore a suit, except he looked more militarized with the buttons down the front and a sword sheathed at his waist. He gave you the same stone stare a lot of people around here had. 
“YN, this is Mingi,” Yeosang introduced the guard behind them. “He’s your bodyguard. He'll be in charge of your security and safety.”
“Nice to meet you,” you said as Wooyoung slipped the dress over your head and fixed it around your waist. 
Mingi only nodded his head. 
“Hurry and finish,” Yeosang said to you, “The Masters have woken up already and they’re already having breakfast.”
“I'm going, I'm going. I’m putting the very last touches,” Wooyoung grabbed a perfume bottle, then sprayed it all around you. “There, she’s ready.” 
Coughing on the scent of vanilla in the air, you looked at yourself in a nearby mirror. The person that looked at you in the mirror resembled the living version more than the dead one. The living you adorned herself with luxury brands, went to the salon regularly, drove fancy cars, had a penthouse where she threw parties every weekend. She had her own stockbroker company; she rolled in money regardless of how many lives she'd ruined. She stared at you now in the mirror, looking the same except for her eyes. Your eyes. They did not have the confidence or perhaps arrogance you once carried. No amount of makeup could conceal the emptiness inside. 
“They’re going to be so pleased!” Jongho beamed, a gummy smile bringing up his cheeks. “She looks wonderful!”
“Well done, Wooyoung,” Yeosang bowed slightly, “You’ll be paid handsomely for this.”
“I hope so,” he said, “And well done to you too. I heard she was a mess when they brought her here.”
“Filthy, for certain,” he replied. “Come, I’ll take you to Yunho for your payment. Jongho, take YN to her masters. They’re in the dining room.”
“Yes.”
Yeosang and Wooyoung left the room, and Jongho turned to you. “You look beautiful, YN,” he grinned at you, leading you out of the dressing room through another door. Walking into a carpeted hallway, Mingi stayed five steps behind you while Jongho walked beside you. 
“Wooyoung really knew what he was doing when he dressed you in that. It’ll go nicely with your collar when The Masters go to pick it up.”
“Collar?”
“You didn’t think you’d be walking around without one, did you? How else are people supposed to know you belong to someone already?” 
“Right…I never gave it much thought.”
“Well, I haven’t seen it yet, but I bet it’s going to be beautiful. Nothing like those leather straps I see the common slaves wear,” he said. “I’m sure it’ll match your leashes too.”
You hated leashes. If being owned by someone didn’t strip you of your humanity, being tugged around on a leash did. Rufus used to tell you that sort of freedom needed to be earned; it wasn’t given automatically. At least you had a bedroom and not a pet bed or a cage. 
Jongho led you through several corridors before bringing you into a dining room. More posh furniture, expensive possessions and fancy artwork surrounded the room. At a dining table, you saw the three brothers sitting together. They each picked at the breakfast spread laid out before them, talking as they ate and drank. None of them noticed either you or Jongho, so wrapped up in their conversation that they didn’t care for the servants nearby. You took sight of the other maids standing by; how they remained silent like statues, meant to be seen and only called upon when needed. 
“Masters,” Jongho said to get their attention, “Your pet is here.” 
The three of them smiled when they saw you. Eyes undressed you a second time, mouths dropping open and eyes growing heavy. 
“She looks phenomenal,” Seonghwa said first. “Like a delicate piece of cake.”
“A yummy cake,” Hongjoong smirked, eyes far too focused on your chest. “I personally prefer her with nothing at all.”
“We discussed this already, Hongjoong,” Seonghwa looked at him, “She is not walking about here naked.”
“She doesn't have to be fully naked,” he remarked. “Lingerie works just as well.”
“I think she's lovely either way,” said San, “Sit with us.”
Jongho brought you to the other side of the table. All three of them continued staring, and you didn't know how to react or feel. Jongho pulled your chair out for you, placed a cloth napkin in your lap and pushed you forward. He said nothing as he left you alone with your new Owners. 
“How are you feeling, Pet?” Hongjoong asked, returning to his breakfast. “Not too sore, I hope.”
“Nothing beyond what I normally feel,” you admitted. Sitting did feel uncomfortable, but nothing you could not manage on your own. 
“Really? No stinging pain or soreness anywhere?” San asked, drinking from a coffee cup. “You don't have to be brave around us, Darling.”
“It's there, but I'm used to it,” you admitted. 
“Then we have to make an effort to have you really feeling it the next time, don't we?” Hongjoong smirked. 
“Ugh, Joongie,” Seonghwa rolled his eyes. “Ignore him, Kitten. You'll come to learn Master Hongjoong is quite lewd.”
“You say that as if you're not.”
“Alright, I stand corrected: he is openly lewd.” He quietly sipped from his tea cup, and said, “But, I want to know more about you, Kitten. What were you before you died?”
You squirmed in your seat. “A CEO of my own company…” you answered softly, not meeting their eyes. Shame instantly cane over you saying the words out loud. 
“But last night you told us that you're basically useless as a slave,” said Hongjoong. “How could you own your own company?”
You didn't want to answer. You couldn't bear saying it out loud. “I sort of…cheated my way there?”
“How?” 
“She fucked her way to the top,” snorted Hongjoong, finishing off his stew. He gave a taunting laugh, “I fucking knew it.”
“Yeah, I did…”
Seonghwa continued staring at you. You felt him scanning over you like they'd done last night. Jongho returned with a silver tray with a cup of milk, a bowl of oatmeal and fresh fruit. You forced yourself to focus on the food rather than the demon's attentive stare. You promised yourself you'd keep your previous life private. Whenever a client or a fellow slave asked, you lied each time. Yet, something told you that lying to these three is pointless. You ate some of the oatmeal, tasted the cinnamon flavored oats and dropped a few blueberries into it. 
“You scammed people,” Seonghwa smirked knowingly. You hated the violated feeling he left inside your head. It felt as if someone poked a hole and stuck the screwdriver around. “Didn't you?”
“I did.”
“How?”
“My company sold stocks,” you admitted, stirring your oatmeal to focus on something else. You tried not thinking about anything but the mushy, milky oats turning a tinged blue. “That's it.”
“That's not it, though,” Seonghwa said, his eyes narrowing and grinning, “You made people go broke after you stole their money from them. A man even killed himself after he lost his life savings. Your company left a lot of people way worse than if you'd left them alone.” He leaned forward, “You stole their money because you wanted to live a life of ultimate excess. Sex, money, power, alcohol…drugs.”
You forced down more oatmeal at the word. 
“Do you want to tell my brothers how you died or do you want me to?” 
“I overdosed on coke in a club bathroom.”
“Had a snow day in that stall, huh?” Hongjoong joked.
“It’s not something I’m proud of.”
“You sound like you were proud of it at the time.”
“Of course I was,” you argued. “I was a single woman with no college education, working a high-paying job, sleeping with people I wanted to sleep with, and doing whatever I felt like doing.”
“Some of those people just happened to be married too,” Seonghwa sneered. Hands intertwined, he placed them on the table and said, “It appears our pet was quite naughty in her previous life.”
“Obviously,” San rolled his eyes. “But, she’s a good girl now, which is all that matters to me,” he smiled fondly at you, then chewed his bacon.
“I love the naughty ones,” Hongjoong said, drinking from a wine cup. “I love the high-spirited, fierce ones. They’re fun to break. I wonder how long it took them to break you? A year? Two?”
“I suppose. Time works differently here.”
“It does,” San said, “Besides, why does any of that matter? She’s here now and that should be enough.”
“I’m not going to have a total stranger in my house,” Seonghwa looked over at him. “I like to know what I can.”
“As if you can’t just burrow into her head and find it yourself like you just did,” he pointed out. 
“I prefer she give me the information willingly, rather than me having to find it myself,” Seonghwa said. “It’s more fun watching them squirm as they reveal themselves to me.” He turned back to you, “It’s like peeling back an orange and seeing the veins underneath. Our secrets, no matter how small, stick to us like a second skin. Getting to spend my whole day flaying that skin gives me no greater satisfaction. I like seeing the filth and wickedness these human sinners try hiding. It’s my job to make them confess and accept their fate. Judging from how you ended up being a slave, you already felt guilty for what you’d done.”
“Psh, too late for repentance now,” Hongjoong laughed softly.
“How did you become a slave, Darling?” San said.
“They asked me.”
“Who?”
“The slavers. They come around the circles and ask if anyone wishes to trade their punishment in for a lighter punishment.”
“Did they tell you what this ‘lighter punishment’ was?”
“No. I didn’t know until I had the collar around my neck.”
“They didn’t brand you,” Hongjoong noted. “They usually brand the slaves.”
“They thought it’d damage me,” you shrugged.
You thought back to the slaver who’d clapped chains on you. A hulking demon with dark green skin and beady black eyes came regularly to the circle of lust looking for demon slaves. Usually, they go for the other demons looking to escape their poverty, but occasionally they take humans. He thought you were pretty enough for a human. You’d make him a lot of money, he said. After a few months with him, he sold you off to somebody else. That slaver then put you up for auction after you slashed a patron with a broken bottle. The man who bought you after that enjoyed using the whip, and he liked using it on you. 
“I bet after you started seeing that perhaps enslavement is worse than whatever punishment you served in your circle,” Hongjoong guessed. You saw the delight at the idea in his eyes. “After a few years of being abused and raped by demons night after night slowly broke you. Having your dignity stripped from you inch by inch and piece by piece left you a walking shell, huh?” His eyes glinted with a smile, “I wish I’d been there. It’s an entertaining sight, watching a slave be broken. It’s a shame they’d broken you already,” he pouted in a sigh, “I’d love to have been the one to break you.”
“But the broken ones are so bland,” San said. “They have no personality. They’re always sad and miserable. It makes for a really boring fuck.”
“Extremely boring,” Seonghwa agreed.
You drank some coffee, black and bitter, to keep yourself from speaking. There’d been nights where you enjoyed it. It wasn’t always bad. You found demon cock and pussy better than anything you had before. A few customers might get rough with you, toss you around and beat you to pieces before taking it, but not all of them. As long as you faked resistance with some, the brothel owners did not come down on you. Last night had been the best of them all.
Seonghwa’s laugh broke through your thoughts. “Slut,” he said, amused.
“What?” Hongjoong asked eagerly. “What did you see?”
“They broke you well,” Seonghwa said to you. “You began to like it after a while.”
“You did?” Hongjoong laughed.
“A lot,” he answered for you. “That’s definitely a bonus for us,” he said, finishing his breakfast and wiping his mouth. “That way we can bypass all the tears and fussing. It makes for a really ruined orgasm, and I don’t know about you, but I don’t like my sluts weeping when I’m fucking them.” He stood up from his seat and walked over to you. You stayed still as warm hands rested on your shoulders and his lips touched your ear. “Unless it’s because they’re so overwhelmed and overstimulated they can’t take it anymore.” His hands went down your arms and came at level with your breasts, “You were magnificent last night, Kitten. You took our cocks so well and did so much more than what we expected from you. I fell asleep thinking about your mouth wrapped around my dick, sucking me softly and slowly.” He cupped your breasts through your dress, the gentle touch making you gasp. “And your pussy…” he exhaled deeply, “Your sweet pussy really did taste like honey. I wonder who did that? Humans only taste like that if a demon made it that way. I could eat it all day,” he pecked underneath your ear, “And have you ride me right after.” He groped your breasts, creating a tightness inside you. “I can’t wait to have you to myself.”
“Master…” you breathed, gripping the edges of your chair as he pinched your nipples through the dress.
Seonghwa chuckled deeply, giving your neck a kiss, “I regret going into work so early now. How can I be expected to be content with a good breakfast when I have your sensitive sex in front of me? It’s torture itself.” He gave your neck another kiss, then stood up straight. “I’m off, Brothers,” he said, “I’ll see you all tonight.”
They waved him goodbye, leaving you with San and Hongjoong. Clearly, the sight of Seonghwa coaxing a reaction from you propelled Hongjoong to do the same. The red-haired demon came up to you next. Standing beside you, he traced your jawline before turning your chin. You looked up at him, seeing the gleam of arousal in his eyes as he examined you.
“It’s a shame I’m working all day,” he sighed. His thumb traced the bottom lip line, “I’d love to spend the day edging and teasing you until you’re weeping from need.” He crouched beside you, sliding his hand under the arm and into your lap. You jumped in place as he felt beneath your dress. “I imagine this pussy,” he pressed his fingers to your sex, sliding them up and down your slit, “Gets very, very, wet if I try hard enough.” He pushed one finger further into the soft material to feel the wetness growing there. He laughed, “Already getting wet for me, huh? Filthy slut.” He nuzzled your neck as he continued circling your clit, “My dirty slut. My good whore. All mine, whenever I want you. I’m supposed to share you with my brothers, as we’d all agreed,” he smiled into your neck as you shifted around his fingers, “But that doesn’t mean I won’t fuck you on their days either. A quick one in the bathroom or in Hwa’s library…maybe in the garden after dark, where it’s only you and me and I’m pumping more of my cum into you. I saw how much you came whenever we finished inside you. You’re going to be so full, Pet. So fucking full you’ll be bursting from that tight hole.”
 “Don’t you have sinners to go torture, Joong?” San appeared on the other side of you. “You know they don’t like it when you’re late. You’re their best Affliction.”
Hongjoong huffed contemptuously, removing his hand from under your dress. “Fine,” he grumbled, standing up. “I’ll be home after dark.”
“As always.”
Hongjoong walked out of the room scowling, but this did not bother San. He gave you a gentle smile when you two were the last ones. He put his hand on your knee, tracing circles with his thumb as he spoke.
“You really were wonderful last night,” he said, looking to where his hand was on your body. “You were so well behaved and made me cum so hard. I’ve never had a whore who made me cum like that. You really are something special.”
“I’m happy you were pleased, Master,” you responded, doing your best not to melt into his touch.
“I was very, very pleased,” he chuckled. “You only did for me what any good servant does for her masters; what any good wife would do for her husband.”
So he meant it when he said you’d roleplay as his wife.
“Come with me,” he said, kissing your cheek. “I want to show you our room.”
You followed San from the dining room, through a hall with checkered floors and two staircases going upwards. The space between doors indicated that the rooms inside must be big. You guessed the masters’ individual rooms by the doors themselves. Seonghwa’s doors had two masked faces on either side of the frame; both gave austere gazes through empty eye sockets, staring straight ahead to the opposite wall. Hongjoong kept succubus decals outside his door, the two slim figures in the same suggestive pose and half-naked. San’s doors had two sigils on either door: a shield with two swords crossing over it. This is where you stopped. 
He opened the door, and led you into a foyer area where you saw a coat rack, key holders, and a mat. Bright yellow walls stretched throughout the main room, with a dark green carpet on the floor. The furniture reminded you of the retro 50’s styles you’d see on television. It came with the old school big televisions, a record player, and matching green couches and an armchair. Paintings on the walls seemed like the kind someone might buy at a thrift store, mass produced with no name. San had not been joking when he said he wanted a housewife.
“This is obviously the living room,” San said, gesturing to the large room. Even the curtains reminded you of the ones from your grandmother’s house, a hideous floral pattern that matched the greenery of the room. “You don’t have to worry about cleaning anything since the maids come here and do that, but I’d like it if you at least pretended you had. You know, mention cleaning something or doing our laundry or whatever comes to you when I come home. I like thinking that you went through the trouble of keeping my house orderly for me.”
“Yes, Master.”
“And breakfast and lunch is already covered by Cook,” he said, “All you need to worry about is dinner.”
“I…I don’t know how to cook very well…”
“That’s not a problem. You only need to plan out the dinner meal, and have the kitchen make it for you. Of course, you’ll be serving it yourself. I would like you to at least have a drink prepared for me when I come home. I left you a list of drinks I like by the bar,” he pointed to a small bar in the corner.
“How will I know when you come home?”
“Simple,” he retrieved a laminated paper from the bar and handed it to you, “I have a schedule that you’ll be following.”
You read the schedule to yourself as San went to the bar. “6am, regular morning routine with handlers. 7am, wake Husband up-”
“-Preferably with a blowjob or something. It’s a good start to the day-”
“-7:30am, prepare breakfast-”
“-Cook has a list of foods that I like that you can choose from-”
“-9am, breakfast with Husband-”
“-In our dining room,” he led you into another room, a lovely dining area with a dark wood table and chairs. “It’s only on Sundays that we’d eat with Hongjoong and Seonghwa.”
“-10am, see Husband off to work-”
“-On my days only-”
“-10am to 5pm, clean house and run errands as needed. Prepare self last ten minutes for husband-”
“-No husband likes coming home to a frazzled wife. I like seeing you pretty when I come home-”
“-6pm, dinner with Husband. 7pm, bath and bed routine. 8pm bedtime.”
It was the stereotypical housewife schedule you’d expected. Your own mother followed a similar routine because she didn’t know any better. Every woman in your family married right out of high school, had children, cleaned their house, went to their own jobs if they had one, and came home to cook dinner and take care of their husband. You’d told yourself you’d never follow such a lifestyle. There’d been more to life than catering to a man and popping out babies for him.
“What do you think?” San asked for your opinion. 
“The truth?”
“Preferably.”
“It reminds me of my mother,” you said, keeping the bittersweetness out of your voice. “She had the same routine, except she still worked. All day. Every day, she served my deadbeat dad like he was a king. The bastard never showed an ounce of appreciation. She slaved over stoves, vacuum carpets, and cleaned toilets. She did everything he wanted her to do, and he never gave anything back. All he did was take and take and take.” 
“Touched a nerve, huh?” San teased with a smile. 
“I hated him.”
“Most girls with daddy issues had one that loved them too much or not enough. Which one are you?”
“Stupid bitch! Youre so goddamn worthless! Why do I even keep you and that brat around?!”
“Darling?”
“I'm sorry, Jack! I'm sorry! I'll…I'll remake it, I promise!”
“Darling, you in there?”
“You got detention again? Why am I not surprised? You might as well quit school, kid. The only thing you'll be smart enough to do is lay on your back!”
“Hey, come back to me.”
You snapped back into reality with San's gentle touch. Rough hands sliding over your softer ones soothed the shakiness of your bones. You took notice of his kind eyes, and how they did not seem to delight in your misery. They pitied you. He wrapped a hand behind your neck and another brought you closer to him. His warmth felt comforting now, his spiced scent reminding you of warm cinnamon rolls on a lazy sunday morning. You hated the effects incubus pheromones did to you. They often used them to subdue you; it made you more compliant. But, with San, this did not feel that way.
“Maybe I won't be so strict on my schedule,” he decided, seeing the permanent sadness in your eyes. “My older brothers will already be enough. You don't need me adding to it-”
“-No, no,” you shook your head. “I will follow your schedule as you asked. You're my master. I'm supposed to please you according to your comfort levels, not mine.”
“But I want you to enjoy it too,” he said. “Your comfort here means a lot to me.”
“It does?”
“Yes, of course. You're my pet now,” he lifted your chin so you looked at him, “I want to take care of you.” 
You couldn't trust the word of a demon. They all lie. Yet, you accepted his false promise. 
“Did you have siblings?” He asked, hoping to move onto something else.
“No. It was just the three of us.”
“Lucky. I have dozens of half-siblings. My father is the Prince of Lust, so you can imagine that results in a lot of kids,” he chuckled softly. “Cambion and full blooded demons in my family tree. I don’t even know most of them, since we're all so scattered.” 
“Then why do you live with your brothers? Do you have the same mother?”
“We do," he answered. "Kim Youngmi, the meanest bitch I've had the pleasure of meeting. She doesn't come around much, so it's not such a big deal. We don't really see our dad either, since he isn't really a paternal type."
“I do too,” he then said, “If it makes you feel better, he's likely down in the circles while you're up here at the top.”
"I wish mine could've been the same way.”
“We're still in the same place.”
“Oh, Darling,” he sighed, “Maybe one day you'll realize exactly where you are. You're not living in a dirty, gross brothel anymore. You're living in the Black Keep high up on the hill in the Land of Depravity. You must understand how important that makes you now.”
San brought you into his arms, eyes growing lustful as he felt down your back. That familiar scent from last night came back, relaxing your tense body. “It's a shame I can't breed you,” he said, changing subject once again. “I’d love to see you round and swollen with my kid. They’d be as beautiful and sweet as you, and as strong as me. They could fill up those empty rooms, pattering around and causing chaos in this place. I really wish we could,” He kissed your lips softly, “But that doesn’t mean I can’t try, right? You love it when I cum inside you, don’t you?”
“Yes,” you breathed as he kissed you again.
He grinned, “Good to know. Knowing you liked that only made me want to fill you up with more of it in each hole.”
The arousal his brothers started stirred in your stomach as San kissed you again. This time he locked his lips with yours and slipped his tongue into your mouth. You let out an involuntary gasp feeling his tongue snake its way inside and brush with yours. San groaned softly, sliding his hands down your back to grab your ass. When he slid his tongue away, he gave several kisses which ended with a tug to your lower lip. Your hands rested on his muscled arms, feeling them flex through his crisp white shirt. For a moment, you imagined him without the upturned horns and the black claws that can rip and tear through you. He’d be the hot new guy at your office, eager to start working and making money. You’d be only eager to get into his pants. San pressed you against the dining table, your legs instinctively spread for him.
“Such a good girl,” he said, starting to kiss down your neck, “Ready to go whenever I want.” He stepped back and looked you over. “They put you in such a short dress.”
“Do you not like it?”
“I’m not a big fan of it,” he admitted, “But that doesn’t stop me at all.” He put his hands on the hem of your dress, and lifted it off of you. In nothing but the white lace bra and panty set Wooyoung put you in, you stayed still to let him look at you. “This…” he breathed, reaching up to squeeze one of your tits, “This I certainly don’t mind.”
You bit your lip as you watched him start a trail of kisses over your cleavage. Little by little, San tugged down the bra underneath your breasts until the straps came down your shoulders. Your bare flesh exposed to him, San moaned as he took one nipple in his mouth. You grinded into his bulge, big and steadily hardening, when the small sensitive sparks started bursting. His hot tongue traced the wrinkled skin of your nipples, flicking at the peak at the very end while he squeezed them more. You couldn’t help yourself from reaching down his hard body to the tent forming in his black slacks.
“Mm, yes,” he breathed, giving each nipple a soft bite, “Stroke it. Take it out and stroke it for me, Darling.” 
You unbuckled his belt, whimpering as he continued sucking on your nipples, and pulled him out. Just as big and hard as last night, your mouth watered feeling the hot, hard muscle twitch in your hand. The temperature between you went up once you both started kissing again, moaning into each other’s mouths. You found yourself grinding against nothing, eager to have friction against your aching sex. San saw this and turned you around so you stood in front of him. Lifting one of your legs, he placed his thigh up against you while he held you there.
“There you go, sweetheart,” he said in your ear, “Rub against my leg. I want you to leave a little wet spot there for me. Go ahead and make a mess on my pants. I won’t be mad.”
You leaned into him and started rubbing yourself into the hard thigh. Not an ounce of fat on this man; none at all. San was all muscle, which he flexed as you started stroking him again. You continued in time with your humping, whining like a bitch in heat for him. His cock throbbed in your hand in every squeeze of his tip, and he let out a low groan when you reached down to his balls momentarily.
“Keep doing that,” he said, forcing you to keep your hand on them, “It feels so damn good. I love feeling your pretty hand on my balls…fuck, yes…”
He took hold of your ass to guide you along his thigh. The touch urged you to pleasure him more. His low hums rumbled in his chest as you kissed down his neck. San took a moment to unbutton the first few buttons to give you access to his warm, taupe skin. You rolled his balls in your hand, cupping them how he cupped your ass and giving a gentle squeeze. Your pussy grew wetter the longer you humped his thigh, the juices seeping through your panties and onto his pants.
“Gosh, you’re getting so wet, Darling,” he said in a raspy voice, pinching your nipple as you traveled back up his length. “I love it.”
Gosh, he was big. You loved taking in his length and girth. In the real world, he’d likely split you in half but not here. Not when you’re dead, and your body molded to take him in all and every angle. You wanted it again. You picked up the pace on his thigh, whining and jerking him until his precum dripped from the slit. This amused San, who started teasing your nipple again with his fingers. His teasing had you trembling in his grasp, combined with his hard body underneath you. 
“Cum for me,” he said, capturing your lips with his. “Cum on my thigh. I want you to make a mess for me to flaunt around.”
Your free hand on his shoulder, you rode out your orgasm. It hit you much harder than you’d expected, your muscles seizing tightly and only relaxing when you finished. Breathing hard into his shoulder, your legs became jelly once again. The strong, muscled demon had no problem pulling you onto his lap against the table and turning you over. Pushing your panties aside, San plunged right into your clenching hole all the way to his balls. He kept your knees on either side of him as he started pumping himself inside you. You put one of his hands on your tits, wanting him to play with them again while he fucked you. He didn’t deny you this, and grabbed it exactly how he had before.
Your grunts and moans joined together into the air. Back arching against the hardwood, you lost yourself in San. His cinnamon pheromone filled your lungs, becoming better than any line of cocaine you’d ever snorted. It gave you the energy you needed to keep taking his cock even after an orgasm. You could feel his tip pushing into your g-spot each time, creating a bulge in your lower belly as it’d done last night. San noticed this, staring down where your bodies met and he kept the same depth and pace. You touched right where you felt him the most as if this might pleasure him further, and this aroused him even more.
“Touch yourself for me,” San said in a shaky breath, “Rub that clit for me.”
Fingers pressing to your soaked clit, you rolled them around in circles for him. “Master…” you breathed, “Master, please don’t stop. It feels so fucking good. Don’t stop.”
“I won’t, Darling,” he breathed. “I won’t. Just keeping rubbing your pussy like that and I'll keep going as long as you want.”
He then lifted you off the table, holding you in his strong arms as he bounced you up and down on it. You didn’t dare question exactly how strong your demon “husband” was, but it had you shaking in his embrace. It might as well be a work out for him with your size. Every deep, hard thrust brought up your volume. You couldn’t stop yourself. 
That’s likely why you didn’t hear Yunho walk in on you. The butler didn’t say anything. He didn’t make his presence known to San. He only stood in the doorway, stock still with hands behind his back. Having him watch so intently, maintain eye contact with him as San grunted in your ear, brought on a new orgasm. One of the things you’d liked about the brothel were the lack of walls. The poorer patrons fucked in the open, main lounge in front of everyone.
Yunho’s gaze turned from stone to enjoyment the longer he watched. He is likely instructed to wait until his masters are done before speaking.
“Yunho is here, isn’t he?” San said in your ear, breathing hard as his orgasm approached.
“Yes.”
“Do you want him to stay and watch or should I send him away?”
You didn’t particularly know Yunho other than his position in the house, but having his round puppy eyes focused on you had you burning.
“I…” what would San want?
“It won’t be his first time.” He pressed his lips to your neck, “There are peep holes all around the house. In the bathrooms, the dressing rooms, the bathrooms, everywhere. He prefers to watch rather than play.”
“He…He…I…”
“Yunho,” San put you back on the table, “Come sit here.”
“Yes, Master.”
Yunho took a seat at the table, removing his gloves and placing them on the table. His eyes met yours, and you expected him to touch you, but he didn’t. He looked over your face, then down to your breasts and then where San pounded into you. You heard the faint sound of a buckle and zipper before he slid his hand into his pants. San lifted you further and spread you apart so Yunho had a view of him inside you. Yunho‘s mouth fell open at the sight, and he instantly began pumping himself.
“Isn’t her cunt pretty, Yunho?” San asked in a smirk, head tilting back as you gripped him tightly.
“Very,” he swallowed, his arm moving slowly up and down.
San withdrew for a moment to rub his length along your sex, making sure to gather all the juices and spread them enough for Yunho to see. When he tapped on it, the light smacks jerked your knees and curled your toes. Yunho could also see the strings of fluids keeping San’s length connected to yours. He let out a particularly loud groan seeing your wetness being pooled and played with by his master. You wriggled on the table for San to put his cock back in, but your master did something different. Pulling you by the knees, he made you face Yunho from the other side after bending you over the edge. Yunho leaned back in his chair as you bounced against San’s hips, nearly drooling when San grabbed your arms to expose your bouncing breasts.
“Look how hard he is for you,” San moaned in your ear. “I’ve never seen him get hard so quickly. Then again,” you almost heard him smile, “Yunho has a fetish for humans.”
He instantly started going faster and harder, slowly going over the edge in each thrust. Yunho stayed transfixed on you the entire time. Your mouth hung open once you saw him pull himself from the restraints of his pants. Not as long as his masters, Yunho did have the width that had you wishing he’d join in. You arched your back more so he saw the rest of you. He began stroking faster, and you saw more clear precum sliding down from the head. Thick and red, you nearly drooled seeing it in his big hand.
“Fuck, I wanna cum inside you. I want to fill-fill you up, and get you pregnant. Nothing would make me fucking happier,” San said, lifting your knee to the table, bending you forward further and reaching your g-spot once more. “Bending you over this table while you're carrying one…Having you ride me slow…fuck, that'd feel so damn good, wouldn't it?”
“Yes, yes, Mas-a-ster,” you cried between gritted teeth. 
“Wouldn't you like to see that too, Yunho?”
“Yes…Yes, I would…”
"Doesn’t my slave fuck nicely?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Do you like watching her?”
“Yes, sir,” he croaked through a moan as he gripped his chair tightly. His body contorting to his pleasure, the obscene sounds of his slick cock joined his moans. “She…She…”
“She, what?”
“She’s…so beautiful. She fucked you so well last night, sir,” he confessed, going faster and shutting his eyes. “I’ve never seen humans take a demon cock like that.”
“That’s what I said,” San took your waist and pinned you to the table. “That’s…That’s what I said!”
San released his orgasm right at that moment. Yunho quickly came to his at the same time, thick streams sliding down his underside onto his pants. You shook and clawed at the table feeling San’s cum spray your insides. The distinct heat and the squishing from below had you crying for more. San gave a few more deep pumps, slowly coming down from his orgasm as he twitched inside you. He said nothing as he withdrew from you, placed you on the table facing Yunho, and showed him your pussy. Messy, sloppy, and oozing with San’s demon cum, Yunho’s orgasm seemed to heighten instead of fall back down.
“A demon of greed and excess,” San explained in a breath, “They have a hard time letting go of good things…You might know something about that.”
Yunho eventually finished, slumping into the chair and tilting his head back. Clearly, creampies were one of Yunho’s favorite things, from what you guessed by the amount of cum on his pants and shirt.
“I’m…I’m sorry, Master,” he breathed, coming back to himself. He grabbed a cloth from his jacket and hurriedly cleaned himself. “I…I shouldn’t have…”
“It’s fine, Yunho,” San assured him. “You’ve served us very well. You deserve nice things from time to time. YN didn’t mind either,” he said. He looked at his watch, “Ah, I have to go.” He ran his hands through his hair and took a deep breath. “Good thing I’m commentating the arena today,” he breathed in relief, “Otherwise I don’t think I can fight on wobbly knees.” You heard him zip up his pants again, then bend over to kiss your shoulder. “Get cleaned up, Darling. Seonghwa wouldn’t want you dirty. He hates dirty things…Well, some things can be dirty, I’m sure.”
He pecked your lips, patted Yunho’s shoulder, then walked out of the room. The tension in the room rose, and you immediately closed yourself up. You began pulling your bra back over your breasts, not meeting Yunho’s eyes as he fixed his suit.
“You should, um, wash up and rest,” Yunho said awkwardly, finally standing up from his chair. His eyes went back down your body to your sex, which you’ve covered back up. “I’ll call Yeosang and-”
“-I’d like to wash myself, if that’s okay?”
“Alright then, um, yes. Yes, you can do that. You should also give those over to me,” he nodded to your underwear, “They’re dirty and you should be wearing fresh ones when Seonghwa comes for his lunch break.”
“Planning on keeping them?” you hoped teasing might ease the tension.
“No,” he replied rather defensively. “The underwear, please.” You removed them and handed them over to him. “The bathroom is across the room. If you need assistance, just call out his name and Jongho will come to serve you. If you’ll excuse me, I have duties to, well, um, attend to."
He stiffly walked out of the dining room. The weight of your newest orgasm left you feeling light and fuzzy. When you slid off the table, the stickiness rubbed your inner thighs and your legs buckled slightly through the apartment. You removed your bra, since you saw no reason to keep it, and went into the bathroom. As you sunk into a warm bath, a giddy sensation filled your stomach. The reality of your situation started growing on you, and sinking its teeth into your veins like a venomous snake. You had a whole house of incubi and demon cock to have at all hours of the day. It sounded so much better than pleasuring the patrons of the House of Kisses.
You sank into the water, letting it engulf you, and imagined what Seonghwa had planned for you. 
***
A/N: what exactly has yn gotten herself into?? It's only getting better from here haha
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drgnflyteabox · 5 months ago
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Imagine you're a sheltered woman from New York in the 1850s. By the time you're a young lady both your parents are dead, so you have no choice but to leave your cushy little family home, get on a train and meet your only living relative. You're kind of useless, bookish and naive. You've never experienced anything but comfort. Your uncle tells you he doesn't want you around, but as a woman you can't do much on your own, and what could you do? You're as helpless as a lamb.
Your uncle betroths you to a man in Oregon, and ships you off to travel the oregon trail with all your treasure (jewelry, bonds, antiques, etc). The only thing is that he can't just send you on your own- you've only been in the real world the past few days to travel to him!!! You've been an anxious little hermit, and who's gonna carry your trunk full of romance books?
Your uncle hires security company 141 to escort you through the grueling journey, and you're none the wiser that company 141 doesn't exist, but outlaw gang Ghost team does...
Anyways I neeeeeeed more western and cowboy 141 and I've been playing rdr2 lately soo
This could work for any of the boys :')
Gaz who's just like your fairytale men. Kind, considerate, kisses your hand. He gives you a little extra bacon in the morning when you whine and picks wildflowers for you when he sees a pretty one (like you). You're defenseless against his charms.
Price who's...... the embodiment of your daddy issues. Spoiler? But you grew up so sheltered because your dad believed your family was cursed, and made you scared to be in the world. Price is so big and solid and comforting, older and bearlike... you definitely could call him daddy :')
Johnny who's got you flustered and blushing the entire way, even when you're miserable, when you're beyond travel weary. He's carefree about touch and space, and for someone who grew up locked in a single space for so long, you're like putty at the simplest touches from him
Simon's a wildcard. He wears a bandana, which makes everyone but the company nervous, and he's always riding off. You rarely see him, but you're mesmerized by his pale eyes and pale lashes, his scars and his story. He kind of hates you for how you don't seem to know like... anything. He let's the others care for you, counting the days until they can meet up with Kate and abandon you for dead with all your ma and pas jewelry and valuables and onto the next robbery... unless (0)o(0)
Also the guy you're meant to marry is graves LOL. Your family is deep in the railway industry and filthy rich and graves is buying up land and planting vineyards. Hes getting rich off of wine :') that's the story in my head
Plsss forgive me if this has already been written!!! I had a dream about it and I couldn't remember if it was something I'd read, or something I thought up. I looked around tumblr and ao3 for anything but couldn't find anything. Pleaseeeeee contact me if its your idea, I'm terrified of accidentally plagiarizing lol
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tinycoffeeroom · 8 months ago
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thank god for bikes | arthurtv
inspired by @mrstelevision 🤍
face claim: steph bohrer ♡
request: here !
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📍 london
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liked by gkbarry, max_balegde, and 98,302 others
y/nsworld about last night ˚ʚ♡ɞ˚
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user1 i'm in love with you
gkbarry cant believe i didn't even get photo creds ↳ y/nsworld please forgive my sins oh great gkbarry
user2 y/n!! i think the guys u mentioned on ur twt was george clarke and arthurtv!! arthur posted on twt about george getting hit by a bike on a wall!! ↳ y/nsworld !! let me check his twt <3
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arthurtv first pic taken moments before disaster (at least this one won't leave a scar)
georgeclarkeey don't know what was worse, the bike ptsd or you dribbling down your shirt ↳ arthurtv your mum doesn't mind my dribbling ↳ y/nsworld the dribbling was funnier to watch tbh ↳ georgeclarkeey take that mr television
gkbarry i didn't even notice it was you guys hiding in the corner ↳ georgeclarkeey just wanted some alone time with my boyfriend x ↳ arthurtv stop telling people i'm your boyfriend!!
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👤 max_balegde liked by max_balegde, arthurtv and 38,028 others
y/nsworld wine in coffee cups and classic literature in a park, my idea of heaven ꕤ
max_balegde got home off my head and now andrews mad i've ruined dinner plans ↳ y/nsworld andrew baby im so sorry :( ↳ andrew_spanndy could never blame you xx ↳ max_balegde god just date her already wooooow
gkbarry regret introducing the two of you, my poor ears will never recover from this ↳ y/nsworld thats your fault for putting two professional yappers together xx
arthurtv pretty sure that's bride you're reading... wouldn't call werewolf smut classic literature ↳ y/nsworld and how do YOU know what's in the book? 🤨
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georgeclarkeey totally normal photo to promote the newest useless hotline ep x
max_balegde rip my purple crocs... can't believe y/n stole them right off my feet... ↳ user2 !!! y/n at the arthurtv podcast recording?? my y/ntv senses are tingling ↳ user3 i'm pretty sure she was there bc her and max are friends... ♥️ y/nsworld ↳ user2 they've never randomly had their friends at recordings, dw you'll join the y/ntv cult soon
📍 ibiza
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👤 georgeclarkeey, chrismd, arthurnfhill liked by arthurnfhill, y/nsworld and 45,028 others
arthurtv thank you spotify for inviting us out! (photo cred: y/nsworld)
user2 i am going to scream from the rooftops, y/ntv'ers unite!!
y/nsworld should receive compensation for having to look at george's bare grippers the entire weekend ↳ arthurtv will bring round some wine this weekend ↳ y/nsworld good boy ↳ user2 ... y'all are fucking with me atp
📍 ibiza
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y/nsworld beach bum 𓇼
gkbarry happiness looks so good on you ↳ y/nsworld i love the bones of you
user2 !! WHO TOOK THE PHOTO I FEEL INSANE ↳ y/nsworld my friend! :)
📍 ibiza
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arthurtv decided to stay in the sunshine a few more days :)
user3 user2 i fear you may be onto something ↳ user2 i'm gonna eat glass. like i am actually putting shards in my mouth rn ↳ y/nsworld omg pls don't
y/nsworld looking good mr television ↳ arthurtv why thank you miss world
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y/nsworld use code ynsworld for 15% off ⋆⭒˚。⋆
max_balegde leaving my bf for you rn. ↳ andrew_spanndy not if i leave you first ↳ y/nsworld i can date both of you at the same time xx
arthurtv djsidjief djg ↳ y/nsworld you ok mr television?
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y/nsworld didn't even think about what i was wearing when i went to go see mr hill sing about cold coffee, sorry guys you got the wrong arthur xx
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👤 y/nsworld liked by y/nsworld, arthurnfhill and 93,294 others
arthurtv someone forgot to change over to their finsta so i guess it's hard launch time... somehow got the most gorgeous girl on earth to agree to date me, must be my fantastic sense of humour
y/nsworld lbr most of them already knew, we weren't exactly subtle ↳ arthurtv speak for yourself xx
theburntchip it's the big ol' hog you got in them trousers ♥️ y/nsworld ↳ arthurtv ah yes forgot about that
max_balegde take care of her or me and andrew are snatching her real quick ↳ y/nsworld ... i may have to do some rethinking
user2 i can't believe i was right... VINDICATION ♥️ arthurtv, y/nsworld
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y/nsworld told him i forgot to change to finsta but really i just wanted to show that i bagged a hottie ✮⋆˙
georgeclarkeey still can't believe you snatched him from right under my nose ↳ y/nsworld we're still in the honeymoon phase so i may give him back x ↳ arthurtv what the fuck
gkbarry crying into a pint of ice cream thanks xx ↳ y/nsworld you know you're the love of my life xx
y/nsworld also user2 sorry for gaslighting you xx ↳ user2 i have never been so happy to be gaslighted could do a happy lil cry ↳ y/nsworld our fave y/ntv'er we love you ♡
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boop-le-snoot · 1 month ago
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kinktober #4
Light My Fire
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kinktober day four | temperature play & monsterfucking (?) | cw: 18+, self-explanatory. Good!Loki is a Jötun and Avenger!You have fire powers. Rather fluffy, just two dorks in love goofin' | word count 2k | click here for full list of planned fics | author's note under the cut |
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“Darling, are you sure this is a good idea?”
“You are occasionally a little over 8 feet tall and very cold and blue. I am average tall but set myself on fire regularly without repercussions. I think we passed these sorts of questions a good while ago.” You pointedly bit into your toast, watching Loki watching you over the rim of his teacup.
Why did he insist on having tea from one specific antique tea set - and having to refill the cup at least five times in the process - instead of getting a mug like a normal person, you did not know.
Slumped over your breakfast in your Garfield pajamas, you eyed your boyfriend pat the corner of his mouth with his monogrammed kerchief before he vanished it away and stood up. His green button-up clung to his chest deliciously.
“Such a way with words.” Loki chuckled and patted over to place a soft kiss on your forehead. “But I see your point. We could either seriously harm each other or end up having a wonderful, one-of-a-kind experience.” He tucked a strand of hair behind your ear. You nodded. He stole a piece of toast and pointed it at your nose, tapping the appendage gently with the hard crust. “And Tony would never forgive us if we at least did not try.”
“Since when do you care about what Tony thinks?”
Loki gave you an impish look. “He's not all terrible. Remember the time he 3-D printed an exact replica of Mjolnir and I haunted Thor the entire day with it?”
“Thor had a mental breakdown.” You replied dryly even as your mouth involuntarily curled into a smirk.
Loki, however, gave a wide smile. “Uh-uh. Tony filmed the entire thing start to finish.”
A chuckle broke out of you before you could stop it. You liked Thor, you ready did, but that had been just a single instance of mischief in the multiple-century long prank war between the brothers. The blonde had gotten you several times in the process of getting back at Loki and you would be lying if you didn't feel vindicated for all those times you had found glitter in odd places and worse...
Not that you yourself lacked your fair share of questionable life decisions. Having fiery super-powers, being an Avenger, being Loki's girlfriend, challenging Natasha to a knife throwing competition... The list goes on. So what if you wanted your icy boyfriend to be icy in bed? So what if he wanted your fiery self be fiery in bed? They do say opposites attract and yada-yada-yada...
“Makes me wonder what the fire giants look like,” you said absent-mindedly later that night while the two of you lounged in your oversized tub. You rolled a small fireball in your palm as Loki sipped his wine.
“Like demons,” he snorted. “Nothing attractive about them.”
“Some would say demons are attractive,” you shrugged. “I think Jötuns are attractive.” Using your free hand, you squeezed a slender, muscular thigh. Loki flexed it and you ran your knuckles over the hard muscle. “Although you're the only one I've seen. Might have to tell Tony to ban any more from Earth least they come to steal all the women away, being this handsome.”
Loki's cool hand reached up over your stomach to idly toy with your breast. “Is that so? Is my Asgardian form not as stimulating?” He mused.
You pushed into the touch, purring. “There's just more of you to love, babe.”
His unmistakable laugh filled up the bathroom, genuine amusement as he flicked at your nipple and leaned down to kiss your neck. “I do not think that is anatomically possible.”
“Pfft,” you scoffed. “Ye of little faith! Have you been on the internet? Anything is possible, provided there is an adequate amount of lube and some leverage.”
The internet - surprise, surprise - was wrong. Loki expressed an unfair amount of amusement at this, and you daredsay, even gloated a little bit. Shutting him up in this form was harder than when he was regular Loki, but not doable. It was, as you both had agreed, a learning curve.
He was cold to touch. Not as a metal pole at a ski resort as you had previously thought, but enough to cause a pleasant, clean chill to settle in the back of your skull as you took the tip of his hard, blue cock intro your mouth. That was about as much as you could fit without going full Chelsea Smile around it. Your hands, kept warm by your powers, slid down his shaft, tender fingertips tracing the textured ridges covering every inch of his skin.
They were truly everywhere, and they were sensitive. Splayed on the various animal skins in front of the fireplace, Loki was a sight to behold: all cerulean blue and raven-haired, red eyes lidded with desire as they observed your exploration with mirrored curiosity. As you warm hands curled around him, a low hiss left his lips.
Attempting to say, “did that hurt?” with your mouth so full was a disaster. Loki chuckled anyway, and brought a large, cool palm to rest atop your head.
“No, darling,” his voice, in this form little more than a low growl, did something indecent to your insides. “Feels incredible.” A sigh as you swirled your tongue around the sensitive head. “I surely wish you'd let me at least keep my Asgardian measurements...”
Yes, but no. It would have been more practical, sure, but it wasn't the full Jötun experience you were seeking. With a wet pop, you dislodged your mouth from his cock to delight in his full-body shiver. To remedy the lack of your mouth, heat began to radiate from your palms; roughly the same temperature as the inside of your mouth.
“Not unless you are on board with me keeping the fire lukewarm,” you teased gently, watching his red eyes darken to a lovely burgundy. Slowly, you slid your hands over his lubricated flesh.
Loki was generous with his microexpressions in this form, with him being larger allowing for easier observation. Lust, love, yearning, a dash of insecurity and concern. He was your Loki through and through, simply blue.
“I fear I may have less allocated space for patience in this form,” he mused.
Captivating. His reclined position and the fire dancing over his skin, the horns growing tall and strong above his forehead - the helmet imitation did them no justice - Loki was a vision to behold. You wanted to eat him like the world's most exotic ice lolly and ride that fanged mouth until you forgot your own name and knew only his.
“Fuck,” you eloquently summarised your train of thought just as your hands stroked him to full mast. Loki merely tilted his head. Knowing that look well, you batted your eyelashes and gave him the final stroke before shamelessly climbing up onto his lap.
You wore nothing but a thigh-length slip of fine Asgardian silk, just like you knew he liked. Your hot, glistening cunt connected with the shaft of his cock as you settled above it, eliciting a sigh of wanton relief. Loki felt like a bag of frozen goods. You wanted to press him against everything sore.
His large, cold palm stroked the side of your face.
“Mmm,” you leaned into it, unconsciously shifting your hips to press closer to the textured hardness of his cock. It twitched as your wetness joined the spit you'd previously covered it in. Some adjusting was to be had - Loki waited patiently as you found your spot, and used his other hand to make you sit down just right. With that first, slow, slick grind, both of you were gone.
It came naturally. Loki's hands on your hips, on your face, sliding your slick cunt over the tip of his own leaking cock. His abs flexed with each measured movement; you kept your palms in closed fists, knowing better than to open them when you were this riled up.
Hurting each other was both of yours' biggest fears and it showed in the way you'd swallowed some of your moans upon feeling the beginnings of a spark crackle on your tongue. Loki refused to take his darkening eyes off your face for he would definitely lose himself in the moment and do... Something.
The intensity of your coupling grew. Your cunt provided ample lubrication on the account of your clitoris receiving all that extra stimulation from the ridges and valleys covering his cock. On harder thrusts, the very tip of his cock snagged the edge of your entrance, causing him to growl and you to whine when your hungry hole was forced to relent and clench around nothing.
It was exhilarating torture. Your cries of pleasure, as usual, only spurred the Jötun prince on.
As you arched your back and moaned loudly and brokenly up to the ceiling at a particularly hard thrust, Loki's deep growling added to the delightful cacophony of sex. He firmly held your hips, sharp nails digging into the meat of your ass, and pushed you down on his cock, missing your hole by sheer luck.
“Come for me, darling,” he rasped in that icy-sharp, husky voice. “I can feel your little quim begging for me. I may not be able to resist fucking you if you cry for me so sweetly.”
Never being the one to disobey reasonable orders, you and your abused pussy gushed your agreements as heat burst from your lower stomach and spread into your body and limbs. Loki's drawn-out hiss had you weakly trying to scramble, to get away from him least your elevated temperature burn the Jötun, but he held steadfast.
Eyes so deeply red they were almost black, Loki looked you directly in the face before his cock twitched for the last time.amd coated his chest and your front with an abundance of silver seed. His body shook with restraint even when his mouth had fallen lax and eyes lidded low; he let you rock forward to rest a hand on his hard chest as both of you caught your breath.
Giving into your body's demands, you fell ahead, uncaring of the mess. Immediately, a cold arm draped itself over you. A moment of silence was had. You licked your dry lips, sputtering somewhat as sticky - but not unpleasant - seed made way into your mouth.
“Are you alright?” Loki drawled, still breathless.
You briefly contemplated the phrasing of what you were about to say, but in the end decided to be completely honest as you two had sworn to be to each other.
“Your come tastes like snow. Literal snow.”
You heard Loki's heart skip a beat and then his chest shook, the chuckle as incredulous as your discovery.
“Noted.” Pause. “Yours feels like lava.”
Despite everything, you simply shook your head and laughed. “That's what were writing down in our science report for Tony?”
“Yes.” Loki nodded seriously. With a careless swipe of his hand, the mess disappeared, and you promptly found yourself staring at the ceiling. “Experiment number two. I am going to find out whether it also tastes like lava,” he said impishly.
Your tummy clenched in anticipation, but then you heard the proverbial sound of brakes skidding in your head. “Wait. How do you know what lava tastes like?”
“I be in situations,” ever the dutiful boyfriend, Loki mumbled his reply into the fat above your cunt on his way down to make you see stars once again. You were not complaining at all.
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a/n: I'm personally very impartial to Loki being a little over 8 feet tall in his Jötun form. For, you know, reasons. My nature's pocket can fit a lot of fun things in it, but I don't know about yours so... I left the fine details to your imagination. See how I don't describe the size of his appendage? Very demure, very mindful. ✨
Additionally, I don't think Asgard has a book on erogenous zones of peoples they conquered and genocided. I'd like to think that they're both clueless here and Loki is getting to know his Jötun body in a sexual setting. But that's just me.
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allfearstofallto · 9 months ago
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Nice
Yandere childe x reader
1.7k
Synopsis: He'll buy you absolutely anything your heart desires, but he longs for you to describe things as more than just "nice"
TW: Yandere, abusive themes, bribery, NSFW themes, toxic relationship, Dub-Con
AN: I haven't written in FOREVER so forgive me if it's not awesome or if it feels incomplete. My last account got shadow banned :(, doesn't help that I was already pretty depressed before that. No time for sob stories here, it's been two years since I've written anything and I miss writing, thanks for joining me!
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Gems that dazzled and gleamed stars in the night sky, silver that was carved painstakingly from the mines in Liyue, an appearance that was beautiful, but still kept up with the most current fashion trends. He had truly outdone himself with this one, this has to be the one that would take your breath away. The one that would make you leap into his arms and pepper his face with kisses from your sweet lips that he rarely got the chance to taste.
When it came to gifts for you, there was no price tag. Childe would spend every mora he had if it meant he could even get a smile out of you and spend he often did. Money meant nothing to him, being a Fatui harbinger, his paychecks were larger than he knew what to do with. After sending money back home to his family, he still had so much left and nothing that he longed for other than your affection. So, why not spend it on something else he cared about?
Your eyes ghosted over the ring he was showing you, encased in a black velvet box with red satin holding it up. It wasn’t an engagement ring, he’d assured you of that multiple times after you were taken aback by him holding it up to you. He knew you weren’t ready for that just yet, and he was willing to respect your wishes, but he still wanted to give you something to wear on that pretty little finger to show that you were his while you waited for the real deal. Your engagement ring would be much, much larger than the one he was gifting you now and it would incorporate details from both of your home countries.
The expression on your face was unreadable. It wasn’t quite a grimace, but it wasn’t a smile either. It was the usual face you made when you were given something. An equal mixture of discomfort and unease. “It’s…nice.” you mumbled quietly as he slipped the ring onto your finger.
There was that word again. Nice. It made him sick to his stomach every time he heard it fall from your pretty lips. But that was always what you said about his gifts, as if you couldn’t think of another word to describe how you felt about them. Rare spices imported from Sumeru? Nice. A custom hanfu made from only the finest silk to wear to the lantern rite? Nice. Wine aged for almost a decade and shipped straight from Mondstadt? Very nice.
You spoke that one word, but even then it felt like you were straining yourself to say that much. On multiple occasions, your displeasure with receiving such expressive gifts was expressed, but he told you that that didn’t matter. Mora was just an object to him, something that held no value, and yet you still held each gift as if they would collapse under your touch.
“You can tell me if you don’t like it,”
“No!” you quickly retorted back, holding your hand up to examine the ring once more, “Its…” you purse your lips to stop yourself from saying the word, knowing that he would only be upset with your lack of what he considered to be a proper answer, “I like it.”
With a sigh and a dramatic slump of his shoulders, he reached up and cupped your face. His hand felt like solid ice against your cheek. Childe often claimed that that was another thing he loved about you so much. How warm your body was in comparison to himself. He told you that when he someday took you to Snezhnaya to meet his family, you would be his personal heater, that he wouldn’t let you go for even a second during the duration of your stay there.
“You don’t even wear the earrings I got you anymore,” Childe’s long fingers traced from your cheek to the lobe of your ear, grazing the empty hole where jewelry would go.
“You know I can’t wear those at work,”
“Then quit your job,” He spoke those words so quickly, with no hesitation, a part of you was convinced you imagined it. But you working was a constant conflict of interest between the two of you, something you’d even argued about before.
The situation grew heated that day. Both of you, yelling back and forth about what you thought was right. You remembered seeing his eyes glow at the same time as his vision that rested on his hip, making your stomach drop. Childe would never hurt you, would he? But even you didn’t know the answer to that, you could never be too sure about what was going on in the mind of a harbinger. So you backed down slightly, telling him that it was something you would consider, and that answer sufficed with him for the time being.
“Childe-”
“Ajax,” he cut you off. He hated when you used his codename, claiming that as his future wife, you alone should be allowed to call him by his given name.
“Ajax," you exhaled harshly after speaking his name, "I really would like to work and be independent,”
For just the briefest of moments, his eyes went dull, his smile fell, his facade faltered and he was his true self. It only lasted for less than a second, the average person might not have even seen it, but you’d spent so much time with him. You knew his tells. You knew that even though he was smiling again, it was completely fake. He was angry, even if the gleam in his eyes didn't show it.
A cold kiss was pressed against your cheek, just a peck to get his point across. When he pulled away, still making eye contact, he was still so close that you could feel his shallow breath on your skin. He squatted down slightly to meet your eyes and whispered against your lips, “I don’t plan to let my wife work. Why don’t you quit now, have a little practice before we’re wed?”
He said that as a suggestion, but you knew it wasn’t one. With Childe there were only orders and threats, nothing in between. You had no choice on whether or not you’d get to work, on whether or not you got to live alone, on whether or not you married him. In his eyes, you were already his, and there was absolutely nothing you could do about it.
A lump was caught in your throat as you tried to figure out what to say. Could you even tell him that the prospect of marrying him was something that seldom crossed your mind? Something that even when you did think about, it brought a twinge of fear into your heart. That on multiple occasions, you considered leaving him, but your unease around him was what was making your stay.
“I…” you finally met his gaze as you tried to force words out of your tense body. His eyes felt so cold and the hand that he had managed to snake its way down onto your shoulder was gripping your flesh tightly. It was a warning that what you said next would matter, “I should just-”
“You should quit,” he spoke the last part of the sentence for you, not caring about what you truly wanted to say.
Eyes turned downcast, you gave a slow nod. There wasn’t much of a choice with him anymore, he was hellbent on that being your answer. He had given you an order, if you didn’t react the way he wanted you to, you would regret it.
The grip that was on your shoulder loosened, exhibiting that you had pleased him and another kiss was placed on your cheek as a reward. This time his lips touched just below your eyes, where tears were threatening to fall, “That’s my girl,” another peck right against your lips, “How about I buy you something special, huh? For being so good.”
You swallow slowly, trying to keep yourself from falling apart in front of him, clenching and unclenching your fist as a way to self soothe. Your voice was shaky as you delivered your stiff answer, “Sure. That sounds lovely.”
“How about a new pair of earrings,” he followed this up by lightly biting the side of your ear, “or maybe a new necklace,” you felt his warm tongue slide down from your ear to your collarbone, making all the hairs on your body stand up, “Or maybe even a new dress,” he spoke into your neck, his hand reaching down and trying to slide the dress you were wearing up your thigh, exposing your your bare skin to the air.
You jolted your body backwards, your hands placed against his chest in an attempt to keep the distance between the two of you. He was moving so fast. Too fast. Even though it had been a while since you and him had last been intimate, for him to try it again so suddenly was worrisome.
You didn’t dare look at his face. There was no doubt about it that he was upset at your response to his touch, he never liked when you rejected him. The hand that was placed against him, was taken into his. The way he held you was gentle, but you could still feel force behind his movement. The thumb of his hand traced the back of your palm as he held you, before lifting it up and placing a kiss against it. Right on your finger, right on the very expensive ring he’d just bought you, almost as a way to draw your attention to it once more.
“What’s gotten into you? Hm?” he had an eyebrow cocked and a grin on his face, “Pushing me away like that after I got you something so precious? You’re going to hurt my feelings.”
“I just don’t think I’m in the mood for this right now,” you mumbled, switching between looking at your dress you were fiddling with and his borderline unblinking eyes.
Silence fell over the two of you, to the point where you could hear your own heart beat, the sound of blood pumping in your ears, the sound of his breaths that were slightly heavier than normal. Childe was rarely quiet. It was hard to get him to keep his mouth shut. In a way his anger was scaled based on how loud he was, the quieter, the worse.
His large hand came into your sight again, making you flinch about what was coming ahead, but rather than being struck, he used his thumb to trace your lips, “Figure something out.”
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ks-dreams-fantasies · 11 months ago
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TEACH ME PT.5 | TRAVIS KELCE
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a/n: I know I've been MIA and I'm deeply sorry, hope you can forgive me. Here's a longer chapter for you guys. Still pretty soft but cute. It's going to become spicy in the next chapters, so stay tuned for that.
Warning: None
Words: 3.348 (not proofread)
Pairing: Travis Kelce x Reader
Part 4
TEACH ME PT.5 | TRAVIS KELCE
Later that evening, after your day filled with playful banter and shared moments with the kids, you sat on your couch, sipping on a glass of white wine. The buzz from the day’s excitement lingered, and you found yourself reaching for your phone to give Travis a call.
The phone rang a few times before he picked up, his voice warm and inviting. "Hey there, I was just thinking about you. How’s the night treating you?"
You couldn’t help but grin at his playful tone. "Pretty great, actually. And I have you to thank for the wonderful day."
Travis chuckled on the other end. "Glad to hear that. So, spill the details. What’s your favorite part of the day?"
As you recounted the moments spent with the kids, laughter and shared experiences, you could feel Travis’s genuine interest through the phone. The conversation flowed effortlessly, a comfortable exchange that reflected the ease between you.
Before you knew it, the topic shifted to the surprise bouquet and the unexpected plane ticket he had sent you. "I couldn’t believe it when I found those waiting for me," you admitted, feeling a rush of gratitude. "Thank you, Travis. You didn’t have to do that. The bouquet is beautiful. You really know how to make a girl feel special."
Travis chuckled softly. "You deserve it. I just wanted to make you smile. Consider it a preview of what's to come. I thought you might want a little something to brighten your day while I'm away." You couldn’t suppress a chuckle. "Well, you certainly succeeded in doing that. But about the ticket—"
Travis jumped in before you could finish. "I know it’s short notice, but I wanted to make sure you had a chance to visit KC. Besides, I have a game coming up, and I’d love for you to be there. "
You were touched by his gesture. "That’s incredibly sweet of you, Travis. I’d love to come. It’ll be an adventure for sure." The conversation meandered into plans for the upcoming trip, laced with excitement and the promise of new adventures. Travis was eager to show you around, his enthusiasm contagious. The days that followed were a whirlwind of anticipation and planning. You couldn't shake the smile off your face after that incredible evening with Travis on your official first date. Every text, call, and shared moment only deepened the connection between you two.
Your classroom buzzed with excitement as the kids were eager to know more about the mysterious bouquet and the note. They couldn’t help but giggle at the idea of their teacher having a secret admirer.
Camille, your confidante, and cheerleader, was over the moon, practically planning your entire wardrobe for the trip to Kansas City. She oscillated between teasing and genuine excitement, leaving you laughing at her enthusiasm.
The days dwindled away, each passing moment building up the anticipation for your upcoming trip. Travis was a constant presence in your thoughts, his gestures and the sheer thoughtfulness behind each message making you feel like a school girl.
As the day of your flight neared, you found yourself standing in front of your closet, deliberating over what to pack. Camille sat on your bed, throwing outfit suggestions your way faster than you could consider them.
"You've got to look effortlessly chic but also comfortable," she insisted, holding up a stylish yet casual ensemble.
You chuckled, admiring her enthusiasm. "I think I'll manage. But thanks for the fashion advice."
The day before your flight, you received a call from Travis, his voice warm and inviting over the phone. "Hey, just making sure you're all set for tomorrow. I've got a few surprises planned."
Your heart fluttered at the excitement in his voice. "I'm beyond excited! What surprises?" you teased, hoping for a sneak peek.
He laughed, a melodic sound that made your heart skip a beat. "Ah, ah, can't spoil the fun. But I promise, you're in for a treat."
The night before your flight was filled with a mix of excitement and nervousness. You packed and repacked, ensuring you didn't forget anything essential. Camille stayed over, the two of you reminiscing about past adventures and making plans for when you returned.
The next morning arrived in a rush of adrenaline. You barely slept a wink, your mind filled with thoughts of the trip and the moments awaiting you. A quick check of your suitcase, a last-minute glance in the mirror, and you were ready to embark on this new chapter.
At the airport, the buzz of travelers and the anticipation in the air only fueled your excitement. Security cleared, you made your way to the gate, heart racing with every step closer to seeing Travis again.
The announcement for your flight echoed through the terminal, signaling the start of your journey. As you settled into your seat, the anticipation bubbled within you, the plane humming with the promise of a fun weekend.
As the flight took off, you gazed out the window, the city shrinking into the distance. Thoughts of what lay ahead filled you with a sense of joy and nervousness, a beautiful mix of emotions swirling within.
Kansas City awaited, and so did Travis. The promise of new experiences, shared moments, and the chance to explore a city with someone special made your heart race. The adventure had just begun, and you were ready to embrace every moment of it.
The descent into Kansas City was exhilarating. As the plane landed and passengers started to gather their belongings, your heart raced with anticipation. Stepping off the plane, the familiar buzz of a new city surrounded you, the air carrying the excitement of the adventures ahead.
As you made your way through the bustling airport, Travis’s text chimed in, “Just landed? I’m parked at the arrivals, can’t wait to see you!”
You grinned, your heart skipping a beat at the thought of reuniting with him. Your pace quickened, eager to see the man who had been on your mind for days.
Spotting Travis waiting by the arrivals gate, your breath hitched. Dressed casually yet stylishly in jeans and a well-fitted tee, he looked even more handsome than you remembered. His eyes lit up as he caught sight of you, a wide smile spreading across his face.
"Hey there," Travis greeted, pulling you into a warm hug that felt like coming home.
The familiarity of his embrace made your heart skip a beat. You matched his grin, feeling a surge of happiness at the sight of him. "Hey, stranger! Missed me already?" you teased, playfully raising an eyebrow.
Travis chuckled, stepping closer. "More than you know. But I must say, you’re looking even better than I remembered." His gaze swept over you appreciatively, sending a warmth through you.
"Well, I had to bring my A-game for the city tour," you quipped, enjoying the playful banter.
As he reached for your suitcase, his hand brushed against yours, sending an electrifying tingle down your spine. "Shall we head out then? I’ve got a couple of surprises lined up for you," Travis said with a mischievous glint in his eyes.
The casual flirtation between you and Travis felt effortless, the chemistry palpable as you made your way to his car. The car ride was a flurry of laughter, easy conversation, and subtle touches that spoke volumes.
"So, any hints about these surprises you mentioned?" you teased, unable to contain your curiosity.
Travis flashed a sly smile. "Ah, where’s the fun in spoiling the surprise? But I promise you won’t be disappointed."
As Travis navigated the streets of Kansas City, the city's vibrant energy surrounded you. The car ride was a symphony of shared laughter, playful teasing, and moments that felt like they were plucked straight out of a romantic comedy.
You couldn’t help but grin at Travis’s playful secrecy about the surprises. "You’re really committed to keeping these under wraps, aren’t you?" you teased, enjoying the delightful mystery.
He shot you a grin that sparkled with mischief. "Absolutely! Gotta keep the suspense alive. Builds up the excitement, you know?"
Your curiosity was piqued, but you couldn’t deny the thrill of anticipation. The chemistry between you and Travis was undeniable, each moment spent together deepening the connection.
Pulling into a parking spot, Travis cut the engine, turning to face you with a mischievous glint in his eyes. "And here we are!"
You looked around, a hint of curiosity in your expression. "Here? Where exactly?"
Travis pointed to a bustling street lined with colorful shops and cafes. "Welcome to one of my favorite spots in town. Thought we'd start our adventure with some local treats and maybe a bit of shopping. You up for it?"
Your eyes lit up at the prospect, a playful smile forming on your lips. "Absolutely! Lead the way, tour guide extraordinaire."
The two of you strolled down the vibrant street, exploring quaint shops and sampling delicious treats. Travis was the perfect guide, sharing anecdotes about each place and introducing you to the city’s hidden gems.
Amidst the laughter and easy banter, there were subtle touches, a brush of hands when reaching for the same item at a shop, a lingering glance that spoke volumes. The chemistry crackled in the air, adding an extra layer of excitement to the day.
As you settled down at a charming café for a quick break, sipping on some freshly brewed coffee, Travis leaned in with a playful twinkle in his eye. "Okay, maybe it's time for a tiny hint about the surprises."
Your eyes sparkled with curiosity. "Finally! Lay it on me."
Travis leaned closer, his voice a conspiratorial whisper. "Let's just say one involves a spectacular view and the other might be nostalgic. But that’s all you're getting for now."
You couldn’t help but laugh, feeling the thrill of the unknown. "I'm intrigued. Can't wait to see what you have in store."
As Travis and you stepped out of the charming cafe where you’d shared a warm beverage and a pastery, the late afternoon sun bathed the streets in a golden glow. The chatter and laughter between you felt like a warm embrace amidst the bustling city.
As you strolled along the street, absorbed in conversation, a flurry of camera clicks disrupted the tranquility. Paparazzi had appeared seemingly out of nowhere, snapping pictures of Travis. He shielded you instinctively, guiding you away from the commotion.
"Sorry about that," he murmured, a hint of frustration in his voice. "They're everywhere sometimes."
You offered a reassuring smile, squeezing his hand gently. "It’s okay. I guess that comes with the territory, huh?"
Travis nodded, the tension easing as you continued your walk. Soon, you arrived at his place, a modern yet cozy and beautiful house that exuded warmth.
Travis guided you through his home, the décor a reflection of his eclectic tastes and passions. He stopped in front of a guest room, gesturing toward it with a smile. "This is the guest room. Feel free to settle in here. I've made sure it's comfy for you."
You nodded appreciatively, taking in the inviting setup. "Thank you, Travis. It looks lovely."
Yet, there was a gentle hesitancy in his demeanor. He shuffled his feet slightly, his eyes meeting yours with a touch of shyness. "Um, I mean, if you're more comfortable, there's also my room. I could set up the guest room too, but..."
Travis’s voice trailed off, a hint of uncertainty lingering in the air. His suggestion hung between you, laced with a vulnerability that surprised you. You understood the unspoken invitation, the gentle offer to share his personal space, but you also sensed his hesitance.
Your heart warmed at his gesture, his consideration palpable. "I appreciate that, Travis. Your kindness means a lot."
A comfortable silence settled between you, the unspoken understanding weaving a delicate thread of connection. The offer was sweet and genuine, but you also sensed the boundaries he respected.
"I think I’ll settle into the guest room for now," you finally said, offering a warm smile.  ‘’Of course,’’ he responded with a smile, ‘’I’ll let you get ready for your next surprise’’ 
You dropped your things off and freshened up, excited for the evening’s surprises Travis had planned.
Once you opened your suitcase, you surprisingly found the red and lacy 2 piece set that Camille had bought you before your first date with Travis. You grabbed your phone and snapped a quick picture sending it to you friend.
I don’t remember packing that... 
Glad you arrived safe and sound. I figured it might come in handy for your trip, thank me later 😉
You shook your head giggling before picking an outfit for the evening. As the sky transitioned into a canvas of twilight hues, Travis led you outside, where a vintage car awaited.
‘’You look beautiful’’ he said with a genuine smile. You thanked him, a blush creeping on your cheeks.
Travis opened the car door for you with a grin. "Ready for the next surprise?"
You nodded eagerly, feeling a thrill of excitement. "Absolutely."
The drive to the outdoor dinner spot was filled with easy conversation and stolen glances, the city lights painting a picturesque backdrop. You arrived at a charming courtyard lit with fairy lights, a table set for two in a secluded corner.
Travis pulled out your chair with a charming smile. "Welcome to our dinner spot."
The evening unfolded like a dream, a delectable meal served under a canopy of stars, animated conversations, and shared laughter that echoed in the intimate space.
Travis glanced over at you, a playful smirk on his lips. "So, tell me something random about yourself. Like, your secret talent or an odd quirk."
You chuckled, mulling it over. "Well, I have this uncanny ability to remember the lyrics to almost every song I've ever heard. Comes in handy for karaoke nights."
Travis raised an eyebrow, a hint of amusement in his eyes. "Impressive! Mental note: invite you to a karaoke night."
You nudged him playfully. "Better brush up on your singing skills then, Mr. Kelce."
He laughed, the sound warm and infectious. "Challenge accepted."
The banter flowed effortlessly between you, each moment feeling comfortable and easy. Conversations shifted from favorite movies to childhood memories, the laughter echoing through the park.
As youcontinued to eat your amazing dinner, Travis leaned in, grabbing your hand to caress it like it was nothing. "So, what’s your go-to guilty pleasure food?"
You grinned, knowing exactly what he was asking. "Pizza, hands down. I can never resist a good slice."
Travis nodded approvingly. "Solid choice. Mine's probably ice cream, especially on game nights."
You arched an eyebrow, teasingly. "Does ice cream give you your touchdown mojo?"
He chuckled. "Maybe not directly, but it definitely adds to the celebration."
As the evening deepened, Travis led you to another surprise—an old-fashioned drive-in movie setup in a secluded spot, complete with a screen as you both got comfortable in his car. Travis extended his arm to get a small basket form the backseat. He handed you some popcorn and candy as well as a drink for you to sip on during the movie. 
‘’Wow you really came prepared.’’ You chuckled impressed by him.
‘’Of course I did.’’ He said pulling a blanket and putting it on the both of you so you could get cozy. He drapped his arm on the seat pulling you closer to his body as the screen lit up announcing the movie that was about to play.
Your favorite movie, "Casablanca," played in classic black and white, the iconic scenes flickering across the screen.
You couldn’t contain your delight. "You remembered!"
Travis grinned, drapping his arm around your neck, pulling you closer to his body. "Of course I did.’’ 
You turned around looking into his eyes. ‘’Thank you for this, you’re the best.’’ You said before pecking his lips gently. He was taken by surprise but didn’t complain, since you arrived all he wanted to you was to kiss you. 
As the black and white scenes of "Casablanca" played on the screen, the vintage car was transformed into a cocoon of intimacy. The air was charged with the nostalgia of the classic movie, and the soft glow of the moon added a touch of magic to the evening.
Travis shifted in his seat, stealing a glance at you as Humphrey Bogart's iconic scene played out. With a playful smile, he nudged your shoulder. "Quite the romantic, aren't you? Bet you've seen this movie a dozen times."
You chuckled softly, feeling the warmth of the moment. "Maybe a dozen and one. But it never gets old."
Travis's gaze lingered, the dim light casting a soft glow on his features. He reached for your hand, intertwining his fingers with yours. The simple touch sent a jolt of warmth through you, a subtle electricity that crackled between you both.
In the hushed silence of the night, the world seemed to fade away, leaving only the two of you under the canopy of stars and the timeless story on the screen.
As the movie reached a poignant moment, Travis turned to you, his eyes reflecting the vulnerability of the characters. His hand moved to gently cup your cheek, his touch tender and deliberate.
"You know," he murmured, his voice a whisper against the backdrop of the movie. "There's something about old movies that make the moments feel timeless."
Your breath hitched at the intensity of his gaze, the unspoken emotions swirling between you. In that quiet space, with the characters of Casablanca whispering their love story, a different kind of tension simmered—a tension that danced on the edge of unspoken desires and the anticipation of what was to come.
Without a word, Travis leaned in, closing the gap between you. The world outside faded away, leaving only the warmth of his lips against yours. It was a gentle kiss, tender yet filled with a quiet intensity, as if he was pouring his feelings into that single moment.
Your heart pounded against your chest as the kiss deepened, the quiet rustle of the leaves and the distant hum of the city creating a symphony around you. His lips were warm and soft, a silent testament to the unspoken emotions that had been building between you both.
As the evening wound down and the drive-in movie came to a close, Travis led you back to his inviting home, the night air carrying the scent of possibility and warmth. Inside, the soft glow of lamps cast a cozy ambiance, enveloping the space in a comforting embrace.
‘’Thank you so much for tonight, it was an incredible evening, you really know how to make things special.’’ 
‘’I just wanted to show you how much I like you and how serious I am about this.’’ He said playing with your fingers.
‘’ Well I like you too, Travis.’’ You responded blushing. ‘’It’s getting late, I’m going to head up to bed if you don’t mind.’’ You said pecking his cheeks as he closed his eyes to appreciate the moment.
‘’Of course, I’ll see you tomorrow morning, sleep tight.’’
As you settled into the cozy guest room, a sense of gratitude filled you. The day had been nothing short of magical, and Travis's thoughtful gestures lingered in your mind, leaving a trail of warmth.
However, as you lay in bed, thoughts of the day's shared moments with Travis played on a loop. His considerate offer to share his space echoed in your mind, and a subtle curiosity tugged at your thoughts.
With a soft sigh, you found yourself standing outside Travis's bedroom door. You hesitated for a moment, contemplating the unspoken invitation. Gathering your courage, you lightly tapped on the door, the sound barely audible in the quiet house.
Travis opened the door, surprise flickering in his eyes at the sight of you in your light blue satin pyjama. "Hey, is everything okay?"
You met his gaze, feeling a rush of vulnerability. "I hope I'm not overstepping, but... I'd like to take you up on your offer, if it's still open."
To Be Continued
Taglist : @kkrenae @spencerreidisbootiful @nabiiturner @ilove-tswizzle @legit9thlunaticwarrior @evernova @kelcemenow @bellstwd @my-regrets @green-lxght @thecubanator2 @corvusmorte @vznggh @kxllanxtdoor @youareadistraction @blackstabbath6 @queenmendes @@maryleclerc @itsdesiree86 @pookiepookie8 @kristencochefski1125 @mellyie @miab11181999 @hornyavengers @tringeorge @unsaidjaelinrose
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aurianavaloria · 5 months ago
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KoH - What Good May Come (Baldwin IV x Reader)
Fandom: Kingdom of Heaven
Pairing: Baldwin IV x Fem!Reader
PoV: Mixed/Split (Tiberias - Fem!Reader - Baldwin)
Length: Long (8k+ words! 😬)
TW: Vague mentions of disfigurement/leprosy
A/N: FINALLY, I've finished the Y/N fic that was voted on so long ago in this poll. Since the results were fairly close, I simply eliminated the least-voted option and went with a combination of the rest. 😁I've tried my best to keep Y/N truly generic, although she is female; in all other ways, though, it was my hope to make her vague enough that readers could envision whomever they liked in whatever universe/version of the story they wished. Backstory and circumstances are also left as vague as possible. As far as personality, I tried to go with what seemed most popular in general, again in an attempt to appeal to the widest audience. I sincerely hope you enjoy, and thank you all for being awesome! 🤗
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“She adores you, you know.”
It was these words from Tiberias that broke the silence between king and vassal – a companionable one… one born from years of acquaintanceship that had seen both parties through their fair share of strife and misunderstandings. A type of camaraderie perhaps only two leaders in their position could comprehend and be satisfied with.
The Count of Tripoli watched as his liege-lord’s attention was drawn from the bright Jerusalem outdoors into which he was all but forbidden to emerge. Watched as eyes as blue as the sky Tiberias knew was above drifted to his own. One was clouded, now – a sign of impending blindness. But Tiberias remembered well when both possessed such a clear and sharp forget-me-not stare, bidding all who beheld their gaze to indeed forget them not…
“I beg your pardon, Raymond,” the king replied, the silver mask he wore slightly muffling carefully-chosen words, smooth as the waters of the Jordan. “My thoughts have wandered, as they often do these days, and I am uncertain as to whom you refer.”
The smallest of laughs escaped Tiberias’s lips as they briefly twisted into a half-smile – a response to His Majesty that perhaps only he could get away with. He swirled what remained of the deep claret wine in his goblet, leveling his gaze at the king over the rim; the Count had known his lord since before he had come of age, and no amount of masks could cover the fact that Baldwin IV of Jerusalem was always aware of more than he pretended.
“Forgive me for my lack of clarity, my lord,” Raymond answered wryly. “I speak of Lady Y/N.”
“Ah, yes.”
Baldwin’s response was accompanied by the slightest nod, silver shimmering with the movement as it caught a sunray. His eyes fell to the chess pieces that functioned not as part of an actual match between them, but merely an occupation for restless hands. Particularly the king’s. Gloved in white, one of those half-numb hands still somehow moved with grace, a slender finger perched atop the head of a knight, resting upon the carved arch of the stallion’s mane.
Tiberias noted the short answer, half-sighed. No doubt His Majesty’s thoughts continued where his lips dared not to go, if the Count knew him as well as he thought he did…
“She speaks of you fondly and often,” Raymond added, sipping of the wine. “I believe she is single-handedly determined to bring your presence back into court by mention of your name and titles alone.”
White fingers released the knight. “The court is far too vicious a place for as good a soul as hers,” Baldwin said at length, sitting back in his chair, another sigh escaping him like the hiss of steam behind his mask as he glanced away. “Lately, I have been thinking of what to do with her. It is increasingly obvious there is no place for her here. Not amongst these vultures.”
“Oh?” Tiberias’s brows arched high. “Isn’t there?”
“No. There is not.”
At that, the Count’s lips pressed together as he leaned forward, setting his goblet on the chess table and folding his hands in his lap. “My lord, surely you aren’t thinking of sending her away. Not from here, where she has found joy despite everything.” He caught his liege’s gaze as it returned to him, adding pointedly, “Where you have found it.”
“My joy is irrelevant,” Baldwin replied flatly. “And as for hers...” he paused, and Raymond could see the king’s throat bob past his bandages. “It will not persist. It is best she seek it elsewhere, before that which she has found here meets its inevitable end.”
The corner of the Count’s mouth twitched. “You, or Jerusalem?”
“I am Jerusalem,” the king answered simply.
Tiberias glanced away, closing his eyes for a moment as silence stretched between them. The Count in him knew that Baldwin was, in a way, correct. Disaster loomed on the horizon – a kind of calamity from which they might not return, and it would most assuredly begin with His Majesty’s death. If the physicians were right and not being overly generous in their assessment, then the king had less than a decade left in his short life. And imbeciles like Guy de Lusignan seemed determined to shorten it further. Yes, she would be safer – and perhaps happier in the long term – elsewhere…
Yet there was something so terribly tragic about it all that Tiberias couldn’t help but feel sympathy grow in his heart for the boy. Yes boy. He hadn’t even had the chance to grow a man’s whiskers on his cheeks before that damned disease had twisted his face almost beyond recognition. And Tiberias had seen it all. Even through the at-times frustrating trials of Baldwin’s kingship, the Count of Tripoli had watched as the golden-haired warrior of sixteen years had wasted away into this silver-faced specter that had become far too wise, far too young…
…but he had also watched those specter’s eyes glow with a long-absent light the moment Y/N had stood before him. For a fleeting instant, he had once again seen the eyes of a younger king, reminiscent of past joys and glorious victories.
Baldwin would extinguish that light in an instant for her sake, romantic fool that he was. Or perhaps it was Raymond himself who was the fool, as he thought of Y/N and how she, too, had been drawn to the king the moment they’d met. How such a precious creature, so rare upon this Earth, had fallen into such a deadly trap… and now it seemed, like a snared rabbit, her only option was to chew off her own limb before the hunter found her.
How to rescue them both from such a fate?
“The girl is in love with you, my lord,” he began after a moment, his voice a growling murmur. “To send her away would break her heart. It would destroy her.” He shook his head, meeting the king’s stare with his own. “As it would you, and you know it.”
“What would you have me do, Tiberias?” Baldwin asked, Raymond’s more familiar moniker finally coming out now that the Count’s words had pierced past the royal façade. “To let her stay will cause her only despair, and that will destroy the both of us as well. And I cannot be that selfish to such a benevolent soul.” Tiberias heard a long exhale behind the mask as the king cast his eyes to the ceiling, as if searching for answers amongst the lofty vaults. “Were it not for this disease I would ask her father for her hand and devote my life to her as her husband before the altar of God. But I am a leper, and I am forbidden that.” The pale gaze that returned to the Count’s was a haunting one now, as if all the ghosts of Purgatory screamed through it for salvation. A mirthless laugh followed, a dark sound born of darker thoughts. “It seems I can do nothing else but waste away before her very eyes. So tell me, my wise vassal – if I cannot protect her from what is to come, what is it that I can do?”
A flicker of a smile crossed Tiberias’s lips. “Love her, my lord. As I know you already do.” He paused, propping his elbows on the table and rubbing his sword-calloused hands together as he thought.
“It’s the whole reason for your self-flagellation, is it not?” he continued after a moment. “This talk of sending Y/N out of Jerusalem – your crown tells you one thing, but your heart tells you another, and for the first time you want to toss the crown by the wayside, and that makes you fear you are an incompetent king. So you pick up the crown again in hopes it will crush the heart, and perhaps the love along with it.”
Another sigh, the lids of the king’s eyes fluttering shut for a moment. “I only wish to do what is right, Tiberias. It is what I have striven for my entire life, and I will not abandon such principles now. If it means my own suffering, so be it. And as for her,” his eyes opened once more, latching to Raymond’s, “tell me what good may come from the love of a leper.”
This time, it was the Count who sighed, sitting back in his chair. “Peace. Mercy. Comfort. Everything you have brought to this kingdom.” He crossed an ankle over his knee, peaking his fingers. “You cannot know that a little cruelty now will not hurt her any less than what will come later. But you do know that loving her can only bring happiness to you both in the present moment – and that is what she lives for. Not the future.” He cocked his head at the king. “There is nothing wicked in what she desires. Nor in what you wish for her. The both of you want nothing more than the other’s well-being. How can that be anything but right?”
Raymond saw Baldwin’s throat bob again, the mask shimmering in the sunlight as he shifted in his seat, first looking down towards the floor, then back to the illuminated arcade.
“How shall I court her, then?” he inquired at length, his voice softer, cynicism at last yielding to tender warmth. “How to show her this affection of mine without forever staining her honor?”
Tiberias’s jaw worked as he thought for a few moments in silence. “If you wish to be discreet, my lord, I believe I may assist in this matter.”
It was then, as Baldwin returned his attention to the Count, that the latter saw a glimpse of boyish mischief sparkling in his liege’s eye. “I would trust no other to the task.”
================
“My lady, a courier flagged me down today and told me to give you this.”
Your lady-in-waiting approached, holding out a small wrapped parcel.
“What is it?” you asked, interest piqued.
The handmaid shook her head. “I have no idea, my lady. The courier didn’t say.”
You felt your brow furrow as you took the parcel in hand. The fabric was fine, but not terribly so – a soft cream color, tied with a simple yellow ribbon.
“Hmm. I wonder who it is from.”
“He didn’t say that, either,” your companion commented.
Curiosity mounting by the second, you decided to succumb to the impulse to open the parcel, tugging at the ribbon. Casting it aside, you pulled back the corners of the fabric to reveal a folded piece of parchment, within which had been tucked something slightly weighty…
Merely tilting the parchment to the side let the object slide free into your waiting palm, and you couldn’t stifle the gasp that escaped you. There, in your hand, lay a lovely brooch, sparkling in the sunlight that streamed in from your window. A small disk of gold, swirling floral patterns weaved across its surface and wound about its edge like vines of roses. At its center was set a sapphire cabochon, polished and glimmering, and from its bottom edge hung a single creamy white pearl, like a teardrop in shape.
“Oh, it’s beautiful!”
The words came from your lady-in-waiting; you were too busy still holding your breath as you took in the details of this exquisite piece. You ran a finger over the filigree and atop the smooth stone in wonder. Who could have possibly gifted you something so beautiful and why?
As if reading your mind, your fellow courtier prompted, “Maybe the parchment says who it’s from.”
Finally remembering to breathe, you nodded, carefully unfolding the small piece of vellum to see a tight, neat script, punctuated with neither signature nor seal:
You will never know how much light you bring into the lives of others. It is my only hope that this small token of my regard brings a measure of light into yours.
This time, it was both you and your handmaiden who gasped in unison, barely stifling squeaks of girlish delight as you exchanged looks with one another.
“You, my lady, have an admirer!”
In awe, you stared at the parchment, reading the words over and over again. But who could have possibly written them?
“So it seems,” you replied at length, running a thumb across the surface of the brooch.
“Well,” your comrade continued, straightening and putting her hands on her hips, “that will give you plenty to talk about at the feast tonight.”
Your brow furrowed. “Feast?”
She nodded with a grin. “Yes, feast! Princess Sibylla arranged it. Perhaps you’ll find your mysterious admirer amongst the guests there, hmm?”
At that, you could only blink for a moment, your thoughts a whirlwind in your mind. Of all the things to find in Jerusalem, you hadn’t quite expected an admirer to be one of them…
“I’m not sure whether to be frightened or excited by the prospects,” you finally replied honestly, a nervous chuckle following your words.
“Oh, lady,” your handmaid admonished, swatting a hand playfully at your shoulder. “It will be quite fun, I’m sure. The princess’s functions are always lighthearted affairs, or so I hear. I imagine there will be dancing and merry music aplenty. Just plan to enjoy yourself, and if something – or someone – intriguing comes along…” she trailed and winked.
You tried to fight the blush that sprang to your cheeks, but to no avail, leading your handmaid to laugh heartily. “Ah, my lady. By your leave, I must see to a few things before evening falls, but I will return to help you get ready.”
You couldn’t help but smile back, giving a nod of assent. “Of course.”
With that, the lady-in-waiting dipped into a polite curtsey and left, closing your chamber door gently behind her and leaving you to your increasingly-anxious thoughts. Your attention returned to the parchment and brooch – both were fine indeed, indicating that, whoever your admirer was, they were certainly someone of status. Yet there was a certain practicality to both; the author’s penmanship was practiced and elegant, but not overstated, and the brooch itself was obviously expensive, but neither was it overly extravagant.
It was also a rather fitting gift, considering you had only just lost your old one on the way to Jerusalem…
And then it hit you.
It can’t be…
Your heart began to beat harder in your chest as it all came to you in a rush. Yes, you’d lost your beloved brooch on the long journey to Jerusalem – one of your last remaining ties to your homeland. A silly thing to get upset about, you told yourself later on, and yet the loss of it affected you even after your arrival at court. Nevertheless, no one up until that point knew besides your lady-in-waiting. And there was only one Jerusalemite native to whom you had confided that little detail.
The king.
Your mouth ran dry as you remembered the instance as clearly as if it had been yesterday. It was only your third day at the palace, and you’d yet to become accustomed to its maze-like halls. Couple that with your fascination with the local architecture, and that led you to places, in hindsight, you probably ought not have tread. Yet no one stopped you, even as the number of palace guests thinned and you emerged upon a quiet, sunlit terrace…
…only to run right into a tall man in white.
It hadn’t taken you long to figure out that you’d plowed headlong into the king himself – quite embarrassing that. In fact, you were so mortified that you were sure you would die of it on the spot, even as you apologized profusely with the deepest curtsey you could manage on weak legs.
To your surprise, however, not even the slightest admonishment came from him. Instead, he chuckled, the sound muffled by the mask he wore. That caused you to look up, still frozen in your curtsey, and that was when you saw the bluest eyes you’d ever seen in your life looking back at you, their squinted corners evidence of a smile behind the almost-angelic visage of silver.
You smiled back nervously, at which point he bid you to rise, assuring you that you had done nothing wrong. An awkward introduction followed, during which you admitted that curiosity had gotten the better of you, and you praised the well-kept grounds and the lovely accommodations you’d been given…
As it so happened, however, he already knew precisely who you were from your name alone – where you were from and why you’d come to Jerusalem. Whether he had gleaned this information from spies or the rumor mill of the court, you weren’t certain, but the more he spoke, the more difficult it became to keep the flabbergasted look off your face. And along with that astonishment came the slightest bit of fear – if he knew this much about you, how much did everyone else know?
Despite your best efforts, though, you must have been unable to keep your face expressionless, as that was when he had invited you to his chambers to speak further in private.
To say you were surprised by such an offer was something of an understatement; it was the last thing you expected to hear after what had just transpired between you, especially from a king to a freshly-acquainted subject. And yet you found yourself quite unable to decline even out of modesty. For one thing, declining the offer of a king seemed most imprudent, and for another…
…well, you were actually rather curious about His Majesty, unwilling to end the encounter just yet.
So you followed him, marveling at him all the while. You knew he was a leper – that was something you’d been informed of before you’d departed for the Holy City – but that didn’t frighten you. You had seen lepers where you were from, and they hadn’t frightened you, either. You also knew the mask was meant to hide the deformities beneath. In fact, it was the presence of that mask that had led you to guess the identity of its owner before it was ever confirmed by his lips – it was a symbol as powerful as a crown. None of that was what had drawn your curiosity; you were motivated neither by morbid fascination nor a sense of pity.
No, it was his astonishingly-welcoming demeanor that had you almost spellbound. The easy willingness to listen and to forgive. The quiet, yet poised decorum. You’d known men and women alike with rank much lesser than his who possessed a cold and domineering manner that was immediately off-putting to almost everyone around them. Yet here was the king of this realm, conversing politely with a lady who had merely lost her way.
Already you had learned volumes about his character, and he’d barely spoken at all.
He had posted guards, you noted, but they kept their eyes straight ahead as you passed them, following King Baldwin into his private quarters. It was a mighty struggle, but you managed to resist the urge to succumb to the eye-wandering that had gotten you into this situation to begin with. Instead, with the same discipline of his guardsmen, you glued your gaze to his back, occupying yourself by mentally tracing the subtle patterns in his coat of white damask silk.
Ultimately, he offered you a seat, and as you accepted with another curtsey, he sat himself a respectable distance away, only the slightest stiffness of his limbs betraying his condition as he settled into the chair opposite you. In fact, you could imagine he occupied his throne in much the same manner as he leaned back, both white-gloved hands curving over the ends of its arms. A servant, unbidden, came forth out of the shadows with a fresh cup of wine, which you took with a polite nod. The man then retreated as quietly as he had arrived, disappearing beyond sheer curtains of pale fabric.
And then, you talked.
It was mostly he who asked the questions, and you answered them as best as you were able; you weren’t brave enough to ask him much of anything, and so you settled for what small bits of information he voluntarily divulged over the course of your conversation. All in all, it was a relatively light discussion. He mostly inquired about your homeland and of your journey – of whether you had experienced any hardships or had witnessed anything of interest on your way to the Holy City, and if you had troubles acclimating to Jerusalem. It was during this exchange that you revealed the caravan’s run-in with thieves… how they had stolen what small bit of jewelry you possessed, sneaking in and out of the tents of the pilgrims and vanishing into the desert night before anyone could catch them.
You only offhandedly mentioned the brooch as the one piece you had any sentimental attachment to. In all honesty, you weren’t even sure if he had been listening at that point, as he had closed his eyes for a long time. You thought perhaps he might even have fallen asleep for a moment; if so, you couldn’t blame him, as you knew his condition was exhausting – you couldn’t imagine dealing with it on top of everything else expected of a king.
It was also quite possible that you were boring the poor man out of his mind with your lengthy and rambling answers, and he was simply too polite to cut you off.
Yet if what your gut was telling you was right, then he had indeed been listening, and far more closely than you could ever have realized…
You hadn’t known, however, at the time. Instead, you’d felt increasingly self-conscious as his eyes opened again, their gaze meeting yours with a piercing stare. Truly, it was as if he was looking through you rather than at you as you turned the conversation to lighter matters – mostly all the wonderful sights you’d seen since arriving in the Holy Land, especially Jerusalem itself. Your observations seemed to please him, and he voiced his gladness that you were, for the most part, enjoying yourself. You’d thanked him for his hospitality, and it wasn’t long after that the discussion ended, king and subject cordially parting ways with nod and curtsey.
Little did you know that one meeting would soon turn into two. Then three. Then more.
Somehow, a few days after your unexpected first encounter, you ran into him again in the garden – though, thankfully, not literally this time. After exchanging a few pleasantries, he once more invited you to further conversation in private, and again you accepted. This time, he inquired if you knew the game of chess, and to your surprise (and secret amusement) he appeared rather pleased when you affirmed that you did. He then promptly challenged you to a match, to which you heartily agreed. Yet even though you were handily beaten, it was an enjoyable game, and you found yourself acquiescing to a future rematch.
It wasn’t long before these games became almost a routine part of your afternoon, save for the days when His Majesty was busy with his council or holding court. And it was during the course of these games that you realized just how lonely he must have been. For the more games you shared, the fewer of them were seen to completion; far more time was spent talking with the board sitting untouched between you than it was actually playing.
He never kept you longer than you desired to stay, and certainly never more than was appropriate for an unmarried lady such as yourself. In fact, he seemed to leave the coming and going mostly to you. Yet you didn’t fail to notice the way his eyes lit up when he saw you, their corners crinkling with a smile you couldn’t otherwise see. It broke your heart that he spent so much of his days, outside his duties, in near-isolation, when he was such a thoughtful, inquisitive, and intelligent soul… such a joy to converse with. And so you’d been sure to praise these qualities amongst your fellow courtiers whenever the chance arose…
It had only just occurred to you in the middle of a recent sleepless night that the reasons behind your persistent compliments might have run a bit deeper than the simple desire to keep his spirit alive in the court he barely saw.
You couldn’t deny the way your heart sped up when your eyes met – those eyes that you couldn’t quite decide were more like the sea or the sky. And it wasn’t just the content of his speech you enjoyed, but the way he delivered it… with a voice that was so easy to listen to for hours on end, so reflective of his serene and introspective nature.
And then there were the times, when he accidentally fumbled the pieces, that your fingers and his gloved ones nearly touched. When you both reached for the fallen pawn only for one of you to swiftly withdraw, each time followed by a soft chuckle. But you couldn’t ignore the sensation that charged the atmosphere, like the feeling that permeated the air just before a storm, and your heartbeat was the warning thunder in your ears…
You shook your head, your thoughts returning to the present as you rubbed your thumb over the brooch’s smooth gem. It was then that the tiniest doubt began to tickle and nag at the back of your mind. What if it wasn’t him at all? What if it was merely a coincidence? Something your heart foolishly yearned for, but that your mind knew well would never happen?
A frown pulled at your lips. Baldwin had proven to be someone to whom you could speak about almost anything without fear of reprisal. Nothing you had confided in him had ever escaped the bounds of his chamber – and there was plenty you had discussed, especially lately. Even if he hadn’t sent this jewel, you could trust him to advise you with wisdom. And despite his relative absence from court, there was no one who knew its members better…
By the time your handmaid returned to help you prepare for the evening, you’d made up your mind.
“I shall wear the blue bliaut tonight. To match this lovely brooch.”
================
Even past the bandages of thin linen and the silken veil covering his ears, Baldwin could still hear the distant strains of music floating through the palace’s long and lonely corridors… the latest in Sibylla’s efforts to keep the place lively even as its king slowly wasted away, out of sight and out of mind.
He could have made a surprise appearance, he supposed. He did that on occasion, whenever he felt particularly energetic, much to his physicians’ chagrin. It was mildly intriguing to see what kind of looks he would receive and from whom– though by this point, those expressions and their bearers had become almost boringly predictable. Fear and awe were ever present, manifesting in the form of slackened jaws and widened eyes and hushed whispers behind hands and veils. Rarer looks of disgust and revulsion were always quickly covered by feigned indifference. Then there were those especially-bold souls who dared to reveal their open contempt in their thinned lips and narrowed eyes.
It was pity, however, that he despised the most.
Dread, loathing, hatred – these were all traits with which any monarch could be clothed whether they wished to or not. Such was the burden of leadership. But pity…
Pity was a mantle that was distinctly his to wear.
Every time he saw it in the faces of those who looked upon him, he was reminded that his crown was secondary to his condition. That they saw the Leper before they saw the King. It was not that he lacked appreciation for those who truly worried for his health and his well-being, but in their eyes he saw reflected back at him what he tried desperately to ignore from the moment his physicians departed in the morning until they returned at night to dress his wounds.
The corner of his mouth twitched beneath his mask, and his quill stilled, poised for a moment in the one hand of his that still had life in it before he reached to return the pen to its stand.
Lady Y/N had never looked at him that way.
Sitting back in his chair, he wondered if she was enjoying herself this night. If Sibylla was hosting her well. He hoped that she was, and that his sister had not overwhelmed the poor girl with her almost shamefully lavish tastes. It was evident that Y/N was quite unused to Jerusalem’s abundance in almost every respect; those first few days after her arrival at court, her wide-eyed wonder had rendered her speechless on more than one occasion, or so he’d heard.
A light hum escaped him at the memory of their first meeting. It seemed as though it was forever ago, and yet, at the same time, it felt as if it were only yesterday.
She had been rather distracted, he recalled… so distracted, in fact, that she hadn’t seen him in the corridors, watching as she’d unwittingly wandered into the realm of the royal apartments. With great accuracy, he’d anticipated the trajectory of her meandering steps, and he purposefully made to intercept her before she breached the threshold of what the guards deemed acceptable, even for a lost lady.
Baldwin wasn’t quite as quick as he used to be, though, in part due to that damned dragging foot of his, and he’d neglected to account for his reduction in speed, resulting in an unfortunate collision on the terrace above the gardens.
Or perhaps, he thought in hindsight, it was fortunate after all…
He’d heard enough from his informants to guess who she was. Tiberias and others amongst his court might have suspected she was an assassin simply playing the part of a lost newcomer, and he had to admit that the thought had crossed his own mind, if briefly; in a world such as theirs, it was difficult to imagine anyone without some kind of ulterior motive. Yet it soon became apparent that she was as innocent as the day was long – if there was anything his disease had given him, it was experience reading tone and body language, and he wasn’t certain the best actress in the world could have feigned her level of self-conscious nervousness.
No, Y/N was simply curious and lost. And from what those same informants had told him, she was in desperate need of someone local she could trust. Though evidently satisfied with her new home in every other way, she had been slow to acclimate to the social environment of the court, preferring to keep to herself whenever possible. From this, he suspected her need to get away from the appraising gazes of total strangers was what had initially propelled her away from the great hall, and her natural inquisitiveness had continued to pull her into the quieter depths of the palace.
But the faint smile she’d worn and the sparkle in her eyes had been replaced with fear the instant she realized who she’d run into, and the stuttering apology and low curtsey she’d given him betrayed her anticipation of reprimand.
That was something he’d had to correct, and quickly.
In the moments that followed, he’d gauged it most appropriate for them to smooth over this encounter by getting to know each other better, and thus he’d invited her to do just that in the privacy of his quarters, where they would face little chance of interruption.
As he’d hoped, she’d accepted. And it was this first conversation of theirs that had led him to believe that Lady Y/N was terribly lonely.
Her chatter was slightly nervous and yet, at the same time, somewhat eager. There was little doubt that he’d learned far more about her than she had about him; with but a little coaxing, he had discovered much about her circumstances and about what plagued her. It had displeased him greatly to hear about the thieves that had raided her entourage’s tents on the way to the Holy City, and it irked him even more that she’d lost a treasured possession because of it. Her journey had already been a long and arduous one – had that not been enough?
Y/N put up a rather convincing façade of indifference on the matter, but when he focused on her voice alone, he heard her pain. No, she was no actress, he concluded.
He also hadn’t failed to notice her willingness to make eye contact with him… to look him full in the face and speak freely with every question he asked; she dodged neither query nor gaze. Outside her initial fright on the balcony, she displayed few other signs of trepidation regarding his presence. In fact, it seemed as though she’d just been waiting for someone with whom she could share her thoughts and feelings – as if she’d bottled up everything he’d asked about since arriving in Jerusalem and finally found someone willing to listen.
Had she truly felt so comfortable with him already, or was she simply a trusting soul? He was unaccustomed to both, and it was… refreshing.
His instincts warned him that the jackals of the court would surely eat her alive, and he feared what their viciousness might do to her. What kind of slander and gossip would come from what had been innocent curiosity on her part. How much her character would be maligned for sport. The very thought of it being a possibility made his blood boil.
Over the course of their subsequent conversations, however, he was forced to rethink that initial assumption. Kind-hearted she was, and still too good for the likes of her peers, but she could hold her own among them better than he had anticipated; a few casual inquiries over a few chess matches revealed that much. She saw, heard, and understood far more than her outward appearance would suggest. Behind that warm, gentle, and charmingly-inquisitive exterior was a clever and tenacious woman whom he found to be utterly captivating. No matter the storm around her, she always projected an air of geniality and good cheer, evidently determined not to let this unsettled world tear her down.
In short, the court didn’t deserve her.
He didn’t deserve her.
She never asked him for anything, and likewise she didn’t press questions upon him about his condition. Whenever they passed time together, he felt like neither king nor leper, but like an ordinary man. In her sparkling eyes and healing presence, he saw not pity, but life. A normal life for once. One where he did not have to dread what the next morning might bring.
Alas, that glorious feeling of contentment left him with her every departure.
The sound of exuberant cheers down the corridor pulled him from his musings, and he found himself back in the relative darkness of his chambers, watching the candle’s flame flicker upon his desk. He wondered which dance it was they’d just finished, imagining Y/N in his mind’s eye moving as hypnotically as that very flame. If she danced as beautifully as he envisioned, she would have the whole court entranced…
“Sire, you have a request for an audience.”
The guard called from the entrance to his quarters.
“Who is it?” he asked, hope, dread, and fear all churning in his stomach in a toxic maelstrom. He hadn’t the patience or the energy to deal with most petitioners this night, other than-
“Lady Y/N.”
His eyes widened.
That was quick.
Hope surged forth at the mention of her name, but neither dread nor fear was eliminated by this revelation. Not completely. He had a feeling the gifting of the brooch he’d commissioned would bring her to him sooner or later, but he hadn’t anticipated it being that very day, and especially not with the festivities Sibylla had planned…
Perhaps it is not that, he reminded himself solemnly, but something else altogether.
“I will see her,” he called back at last. “Let her pass.”
There were precious few seconds for him to compose himself before he saw her, at first a shadow at the entrance to his chambers, and then illuminated by lamp and candlelight as she cautiously strode forth. His breath caught in his lungs at the sight of her, her eyes glittering like stars from all those dancing fires. She wore the most beautiful court dress he’d ever seen her in – a sapphire-blue silk bliaut, laced tight at the sides to flatter her form, seemingly a thousand shimmering pleats flowing from her hips to the floor. At her waist had been tied a fabric belt of lighter blue, embroidered in gold, double-wrapped about her body and knotted in front in Frankish style. Her belled sleeves, with their golden trim, allowed only a glimpse of her stark white chemise beneath, and there, upon that same trim that adorned the dress’s wide neckline, had been pinned the brooch, pulling the dipping V above her heart into an elegant keyhole.
“Your Majesty,” she greeted him with a curtsey, offering a smile that shot straight to his heart. “I hope I haven’t come at an inopportune time.”
“Not at all,” he gestured for her to rise, turning in his seat to fully face her, “although I would have expected you to be at my sister’s gathering.”
Another smile. “I was, in fact. Alas, I felt the need to speak with you on a matter of great import. I hope Her Highness can forgive me for my early departure.”
The king nodded once. “I am all but certain she will. I am, however, glad you were at least able to make an appearance,” he remarked as he slowly rose from his chair, stifling a groan that threatened to escape him from his aching limbs. Then, pausing, he tilted his head as he allowed himself to take in her attire once more. “You look lovely. It would have been a shame to have wasted such beauty on my poor eyes alone; better indeed that you allowed others with keener sight the chance to appreciate your taste and talents before slipping away to these dark and distant halls.”
Even in the low candlelight, he could see her cheeks flush, and as her gaze briefly flicked away from his, he felt his twisted lips pull into an unseen smile.
“You are too kind, my lord,” she replied. “In truth, I found myself… inspired… by this new jewel I received just this afternoon.” Her fingers drifted to that very piece, pinned above her heart, and Baldwin forced himself to school his gaze… to pretend he hadn’t been the one to write up the specifics of its creation for the royal jeweler… that he hadn’t entrusted it to Tiberias to give to a capable courier… that he hadn’t prayed to God he hadn’t made an irreversible mistake by daring to tread on this unknown path.
“Do you like it?” she asked suddenly, her eyes meeting his. “Believe it or not, it is, in fact, the subject of my concern.”
Something in both her gaze and her tone told him she’d made the assumption he wished. Good. He had no desire to drag this out; indeed, hadn’t the time for it. And now that she was here, following the lead he’d purposefully fashioned, his only task was to find out if Tiberias was truly right about her and her feelings…
Swallowing back where his heart had gathered in his throat, he replied coolly, “Yes, it suits you. Although, I am uncertain as to why you would approach me for such an opinion,” he added with a chuckle, slightly bemused at the way she was choosing to approach this mystery. Indicating the chess table where they’d held so many conversations of late, he beckoned, “Come. Sit.”
Wordlessly, she acquiesced, dipping her head before moving to take her usual place, as he did his.
“I…” she began after a moment, her stare focused on one of the pieces as he settled himself opposite her. “Well, the truth is, I was hoping I could ask you for advice in a matter related to it. Regarding the one who sent it to me, in fact.”
“Yes?” he prompted as he watched her. Time to confirm that assumption.
“Well, you see… I don’t really know who sent it…”
His eyes met hers, squinting a little. “You don’t?” he asked, keeping the skepticism from his tone as he began to pull her thoughts from her.
“No.” She shook her head. “There was no name on the note that accompanied it, so I cannot know for certain who might have sent it. But,” yet another smile tugged at the corner of her mouth, her eyes sparkling again as she leaned forth and propped her elbows on the edge of the table, “I do have an idea, and I was hoping perhaps I might pass my thoughts by you. You know a great many in your court, after all. Perhaps you could confirm or deny my suspicions?”
Oh yes, she knew. He knew she knew. And now she played with him as much as he with her, both seeking confession…
“Perhaps I could,” he answered musingly. “What are your thoughts, then, Lady Y/N?”
“Well,” she began, dropping her gaze to the pieces once more, her fingertips toying with the white king, “I was just thinking of how appropriate such a gift was. Indeed, the person who sent it must know me rather well. It appeals so much to my tastes and is so fitting given recent events.”
His heart felt like it was about to beat itself out of his chest. “How fortuitous.”
“My thoughts precisely,” she agreed, glancing up at him. “And of those whom I’ve spent the most time with, there are few who would know me in such a manner.”
“Truly?”
“Truly.”
She paused, and he felt her eyes studying him intensely. “In fact, there is only one man who would have known just how fortuitous it was. Only one who would have known I would have need of such a piece. Now,” she leaned back a little, offering him a pointed look, “I do realize that brooches are popular as courting gifts,” she paused, her gaze latching to his, “but even so, I find the choice rather… convenient. Don’t you, my lord?”
“Yes,” he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper. “I understand your meaning.”
Deafening silence stretched between them during which neither of them moved.
“Only one man,” she repeated, her own voice having gone quiet, and Baldwin saw her eyes glimmer in the lamplight. Before he could even open his mouth to offer another comment, she leaned forward again, her gaze burning a hole through him. “Only one man who bothered to know me. To know my heart. To care for me and my life enough to remember what I held dear.” He saw her swallow heavily. “You, my king. You sent it to me, didn’t you?”
“Yes,” he breathed, nodding once in affirmation.
“Do you mean it?”
Her question was barely a whisper, yet Baldwin felt it in his heart – a probing inquiry seeking out the truth of his intentions.
His blood was rushing in his ears. “Every word, written and unwritten.”
And with that final admission everything was confirmed on his part. But as for hers…
The tears were obvious in her eyes now, pooling at the edges of her lashes. In that moment, he was sure he understood how the condemned felt just before the stroke of the headsman’s axe, before the tightening of the hangman’s noose. What would her answer be, then? He knew in his heart it would be better for her to simply walk away. But would she? Would she willingly doom herself to heartbreak?
At last Y/N spoke once more, her voice a tremulous whisper, and he hung upon every word as though his very life depended on it.
“I know this cannot be a courtship in the traditional sense,” she began softly, her liquid stare never leaving his, “and I know what the others will say…”
He began to feel lightheaded. At this rate, he was going to faint before he could hear her answer in full.
“…but I don’t care. For as long as there is life left in both of us, my king, I am yours. In whatever capacity you desire.”
“Oh.”
The word left him on a whoosh of breath, hissing behind his mask as relief washed over him in a powerful wave, every muscle in his body relaxing at once. Yet he couldn’t help the warped smile that overtook his countenance behind that façade of silver at the implications of her words.
She…?
“Yes,” she said with a nod, as if hearing the question his thoughts posed. A soft laugh followed, even as a shimmering tear slowly tracked down her cheek. “I love you, Baldwin. With all my heart. And I have since the day we met.”
At that, then, there was no longer any question of her feelings. He felt his own eyes welling with emotion, and he leaned towards her as close as he dared, propping his good hand on the table for support. “I regret that I will never be able to show you the extent of my own for you, my dear Lady Y/N. But understand this…” he paused, swallowing heavily. “My purest devotion has and always will belong to you. As much as a wretch such as I can be, I, too, am yours.”
She shook her head. “You are no wretch. Not to me.”
It was then her hand slowly moved towards where his gloved one yet lay on the table’s polished surface, and he flinched, a spike of fear darting through him like the bolt from a crossbow. “Y/N, no…”
Her gaze bored into his, her hand yet poised above his own. “I’m not afraid, my lord.”
“Y/N… please…”
The word was barely a whisper, slipping between the slightly-parted lips of his mask before he could catch it – a cry for her to stop and yet a plea for her not to. It was as if he had been paralyzed, unable to move away despite every corner of his mind screaming at him to withdraw.
If the glove was not enough… if it couldn’t safeguard her…
And yet all thoughts of everything came to a halt the moment her fingers lightly grazed his own, his breath catching in his throat. He felt it – the warmth of her through the thin silk – and it took all of his strength not to flinch away from her again, to curl his hand into a fist and recoil in upon himself to protect her from his horrid disease. Her eyes searched his, seemingly sifting through his soul as further she went. Slowly. Steadily. Her fingertips brushed with a feather-light touch over each set of knuckles, back and forth, and he couldn’t breathe. His lungs were desperate for air as she traced the delicate golden embroidery on the back of his hand; they finally betrayed him then, a shuddering exhale followed by a hitched intake of air he was certain she heard.
Yet Y/N only smiled at him once more, in that warm and gentle way of hers, her hand stilling as it rested atop his. And the entire world stilled along with it, his fear slowly ebbing as reason returned to replace it. These touches were all they had, he realized. All they could permit themselves. And yet still they could hold all the tenderness of a kiss.
Speaking of which…
He moved much more gently, then, as he twisted his hand underneath hers to catch her fingers in his grip. His gaze holding hers, he stroked his thumb across her knuckles before bringing that hand to his mask, where the cold and unfeeling lips touched the back of it in place of his own disfigured ones.
Despite not being able to give her a proper kiss, though, she evidently still understood the gesture, as another blush flushed her cheeks. A soft chuckle escaped him, and he remarked dryly, “There appears to be a bit of an obstacle here…”
At that, uncontrollable laughter burst from her, merry and full, and she clamped her other hand over her mouth to muffle it, leaning against the back of the chair as she continued to shake. He, too, laughed softly at her merriment, and for a moment the sound filled the room with a kind of joy it hadn’t witnessed in years.
After a moment, Y/N finally recovered, and she glanced over her shoulder as the faint strains of another song could be heard. Her gaze glittering with stars, both hands grasped his now and gently tugged as she stood. “Come. Dance with me.”
He blinked even as he slowly rose before her. “I… fear I’m not capable of much these days…”
“Not to worry,” she assured him with a grin, “I’ve just the dance in mind. Like this…”
With that, she pulled him to the open floor at the center of his chambers and began to show him the steps – two sidesteps here, two sidesteps there, a slow twirl of the lady in his arms, and begin again. For the first few cycles, she counted quietly until he caught the rhythm, and then there was only a warm, comfortable silence between them, the two gently swaying and turning to the distant music.
Tiberias was right. In that moment, Baldwin knew only happiness. Peace. Comfort. And so long as Y/N, too, felt these things, he could be content with whatever God had willed for him. He could only pray that, upon his death, the Almighty would be merciful to this woman, a living angel on Earth…
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If you made it this far, thank you so much for reading! If you want more of my writing, I also have a WIP Baldwin-centric longfic posted on Ao3 (shameless plug)! 😁Do let me know if you want me to continue this Y/N story! I'd love to hear your thoughts.
Also, the dance mentioned at the end of the story was inspired by this lovely one:
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munchmemes · 7 months ago
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taylor swift lyrics, the tortured poets department edition, part two
guilty as sin?
▸ my boredom's bone-deep. ▸ am i allowed to cry? ▸ i'm seeing visions, am i bad? or mad? or wise? ▸ one slip and i'm falling back into the hedge maze. ▸ oh, what a way to die. ▸ i keep recalling things we never did. ▸ how i long for our trysts. ▸ how can i be guilty as sin? ▸ i keep these longings locked inside a vault. ▸ someone told me there's no such things as bad thoughts, only your actions talk. ▸ they're gonna crucify me anway. ▸ what if they way you hold me is actually what's holy? ▸ i choose you and me religiously.
who's afraid of little old me?
▸ the "who's who?`" of "who's that?" is poised for the attack. ▸ you don't get to tell me about 'sad'. ▸ if you wanted me dead, you should've just said. nothing makes me feel more alive. ▸ who's afraid of little old me? you should be. ▸ the scandal was contained, the bullet had just grazed. ▸ at all costs, keep your good name. ▸ you don't get to tell me you feel bad. ▸ is it a wonder i broke? ▸ let's hear one more joke. then we could all just laugh until i cry. ▸ i was tame, i was gentle till the circus life made me mean. ▸ they say they didn't do it to hurt me but what if they did? ▸ i want to snarl and show you just how disturbed this has made me. ▸ you wouldn't last an hour in the asylum where they raised me. ▸ isn't that what they all said? that i'm fearsome and i'm wretched and i'm wrong. ▸ you lured me and you hurt me and you taught me. ▸ you caged me and then you called me crazy. ▸ i am what i am 'cause you trained me.
i can fix him (no really i can)
▸ the jokes that [you/they] told across the bar were revolting and far too loud. ▸ they shake their heads, saying "god help [them]" when i tell 'em you're the one. ▸ i can fix him, no really i can. and only i can. ▸ i could see it from a mile away. ▸ you had a halo of the highest grade, you just hadn't met met yet. ▸ come close, i'll show you heaven if you'll be an angel all night. ▸ trust me, i can handle me a dangerous [man/woman].
loml
▸ we were just kids, babe. ▸ i don't mind, it takes time. ▸ i thought i was better safe than starry-eyed. ▸ i felt aglow like this. never before and never since. ▸ you and i went from one kiss to getting married. ▸ you said i'm the love of your life about a million times. ▸ a conman sells a fool a get-love-quick scheme. ▸ i felt a hole like this never before and ever since. ▸ what we thought was for all time was momentary. ▸ i wish i could un-recall how we almost had it all. ▸ the coward claimed he was a lion. ▸ i'll still see it until i die. you're the loss of my life.
i can do it with a broken heart
▸ i can show you lies. ▸ i'm a real tough kid, i can handle my shit. ▸ they said 'you gotta fake it 'til you make it' and i did. ▸ you said you'd love me all your life but that life was too short. ▸ i can do it with a broken heart. ▸ i'm so depressed, i act like it's my birthday every day. ▸ i cry a lot but i am so productive, it's an art. ▸ you know you're good when you can even do it with a broken heart. ▸ i can hold my breath, i've been doing it since [you/they] left. ▸ i'm miserable and nobody even knows!
the smallest man who ever lived
▸ was any of it true? ▸ now you know what it feels like. ▸ i don't miss what we had. ▸ in public, you showed me off then sank in stoned oblivion. ▸ you didn't measure up in any measure of a man. ▸ were you sent by someone who wanted me dead? ▸ good riddance 'cause it wasn't sexy once it wasn't forbidden. ▸ i would've died for your sins. instead i just died inside. ▸ in plain sight you hid but you are what you did. ▸ i'll forget you but i'll never forgive.
the alchemy
▸ this happens once every few lifetimes. ▸ these chemicals hit me like white wine. ▸ what if i told you i'm back? ▸ the hospital was a drag. worst sleep i ever had. ▸ ditch the clowns, get the crown. ▸ what if i told you we're cool? ▸ honestly, who are we to fight the alchemy? ▸ where's the trophy?
clara bow
▸ all your life, did you know you'd be picked like a rose? ▸ i'm not trying to exaggerate but i think i might die. ▸ this town is fake but you're the real thing. ▸ take the glory, give everything. ▸ promise to be dazzling. ▸ you're the new god we're worshipping. ▸ beauty is a beast that roars down on all fours, demanding more. ▸ it's hell on earth to be heavenly. ▸ them's the breaks, they don't come gently.
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idontknowmyownmind · 8 months ago
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OG!Cale Fanfics Recommendation
COMPLETED
[og!Cale-centric] in accordance by pheenick 💝
[LCF] Love is gone by sleepycale 💝
[LCF] Are you saying Goodbye? by JadedMindscape
[og!AlCale] "Unexpected Meetings" - series by abralhugres
[og!AlCale] "dreams" - series by abralhugres
[og!AlCale] the root of the problem by abralhugres
His Majesty's Messenger by Aisha_mirai
A Man who had No Love by Justsamrandumbfujoshi
[og!Cale-centric] Forgive Dad by Verzy
[og!AlCale] Winter Affliction by abralhugres
[og!Cale-centric] the red means... [you belong to me] by Further_From_Humanity 💝
it's you by Milamimi
[og!AlCale] In another life by Verzy
[og!AlCale] don’t go where i can’t follow by shuangxuans 💝
[og!AlCale] a Lout and a Prince by abralhugres
[og!AlCale] the villainess gets revenge by abralhugres
[RokCale] feelings too strong to contain by abralhugres
[RokCale] Type of kisses by wifteria
[RokCale] Knock on the Coffin by esdegen 💝
[RokCale] Salvation & Sin by Luc_00 (Dawn_007)
[CJS x Heniroksoo] you drew stars around my scars (but now i’m bleeding) by todoloey
[og!AlCale] "Switched" - series by abralhugres
[og!Cale-centric] Nightmare in the Flesh by Verzy
Complicated by abralhugres
[Og!StarCale] Cry for me by wifteria 💝
[ROokCale] Why Cale Henituse can't leave the duchy by wifteria
[Og!AlCale] ( IF I AM THE SUN ) by AKingsAffection
[RokCale] the secrets we left under the distant sky by Luc_00 (Dawn_007)
[RokCale] You Are Mine by ThisIsVee 💝
ON-GOING
[LCF AlCale] Crown Prince's Rule Breaker by minamintsoo
[LCF x ORV] The Kimcom in Rowoon by Tsukki_yan 💝
[LCF x ORV] Crossing Paths by your_serialdreamer
One Bad End is Enough by AsterEfflores 💝
Can't an Old Man Die in Peace? by AsterEfflores
[og!Cale-centric] his brother's keeper by thursdays 💝
Cut Yourself On My Glass Plate by SkylerSkyhigh 💝
Open Your Eyes And Take A Look Around You. by VaraUser 💝
Reacting to Reading by Cortes01
Acquaint Fate by Unlucky_Cactus 💝
[LCF] Ancient Powers Hijack Cale's Body by mishamoonberry
[og!AlCale] Fuck our Problems by Verzy 💝
[og!AlCale] death is the only ending for the trash queen by abralhugres
[og!AlCale] crossed fates - series by abralhugres 💝
[og!AlCale] puppy love by abralhugres
[og!Cale-centric] Vermilion made of Cinnabar by PoisonousLana
[PolySoo x og!Cale] more is better ;D by abralhugres, small_mew 💝
[LCF x BNHA] BNHA react to TCF by KNX7
Hunter by Theta_Shi
[og!Cale-centric] OG!Cale receives a family by Verzy
The Silver Coin and The Pretty Rock by ThisIsVee 💝
This Time Around by ThisIsVee
everyone around him dies by abralhugres 💝
[og!ChoiCale] 그렇더라고요 (When You Love Someone) by mishamoonberry 💝
[og!AlCale] (what we lose in the fire) by AKingsAffection 💝
my world as i wish for by mishamoonberry 💝
Group Hug!!!! by squidballsinc
[RokCale] Damage control by Mir_Hope20 💝
Patchwork Soul by ThisIsVee 💝
Cale's Guide to Raising Your Yandere Brother by GingerVee (ThisIsVee), ThisIsVee 💝
End My Suffering Dear Duke! by Aceresa 💝
[RokCale] Everyone Deserves to be Loved by Loveable_Psychopath
[RokCale) Zenith of the Crimson Sun and the Obsidian Moon by Kimera20
I Reject The Maidens! by C0rr3ct 💝
[RokCale] Sleeping Partners (they really just sleep) by FollowerOfCaleism 💝
[RokCale] The Sun Proposed to the Moon by Nami_San18
Blood is Thicker than Wine by seasskies 💝
💝 The one I love the most ❤❤❤
This is my latest updated og!Cale fanfictions I've read
The one without [...] in front of its title means that the story /somehow/ involved both KRS and Cale
And, yes, I'm a hardcore og!AlCale and RokCale shipper
I do read some krs!Cale-centric fanfiction but when it come to LCF 'canon'-verse, I avoided E-rated and shippy ones and I don't usually bookmarked them
It's hard to find one to my liking because most M-rated and T-rated ones still with ships and s3xual content while there are few with those rates because of the theme or gore or language but most are not, so...
I like the light read ones, but most of the times I just want to read the heavy ones that without ships but those are so rare...
Idk whether you, @grumpywiltedlettuce, already read them or not but these are the one I like the most!!
Will updated if I found more!!
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royallyprincesslilly · 1 year ago
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Title: Everyone Else Is No.2 {One-Shot}***
Tumblr media
Lewis Hamilton x Attorney Friend Reader
Warning: Cursing, NSFW, Mature 18+ Content, Angst, PLENTY OF WORDS, DIALOGUE HEAVY
Words: 15.2k
Summary: Again, nah.
Note: Inspired by that old August Alsina song "Kissing on My Tattoos". So sorry for how long it is and for the long sentences toward the end, it couldn't be any other way. Forgive the weird spacing throughout, Tumblr has a 1,000 block limit per post, and guess who reached it before correcting the spacing.
Note II: Really interested in hearing what you guys think about this one. Let me know.
As always, thank you guys for reading! I appreciate it. I hope you enjoy this.
If you did enjoy this, please, LIKE, COMMENT, REBLOG!!!
***NOT Edited/Proofread***
-Y/N-
"You're beautiful you know that right?"
You smiled and took a sip of your drink.
"Thanks."
The man sitting across from you, Darius, nodded and before he looked down to his plate you caught his eyes drop to your cleavage. Of course, you thought. This was your 2nd date with him. The first went smoothly though you'd went with little to no expectations for it to be so. Tonight, he said the right things, did the right things, and was the perfect gentleman.
He'd even chosen a great restaurant. The ambiance was perfect for a second date. So far you had only counted 2 things that were less than satisfactory, everything was on point. He was so on point that you wondered if he was acting and not being his genuine self.
You hated the dating scene. Everyone held their cards too close to their chest. No one was ever real about anything. Everyone liked to waste people's time all in the name of fun and sex. These days you only treated dating as a pastime and a way to relieve stress after long hours of working on briefs and reviewing case files.
"A woman with your track record in law. Wheeew. Was it hard?"
You shrugged then wiped the corner of your mouth, "It definitely wasn't easy. I still remember the sleepless nights, and times when I only had 1 meal a day. My parents still remember not seeing me for 3 months because of the bar and my first major case that came nearly right behind the other. They won't let me forget it."
"It looks like it paid off. You're on the partner track. Shit, you'd be the first woman under 35 to make that happen at Halsey Boyd and Crenshaw," Darius said.
You bristled, but politely smiled and took another sip of your wine.
"I'm sorry I don’t mean to make this weird I'm just in awe of you."
You studied him for a few moments but found no lie. You could always tell a lie. No matter what the case, no matter who it was. It was your secret weapon and it served you well as a lawyer.
"Thank you, but enough about me. What about you? Tell me about Darius Forrester."
He smiled, licked his lips then looked you directly in the eye.
"I'm pretty much a what you see you get kind of guy. I've been at Berry & Clark for the last 6 years as a criminal attorney. The work is challenging but I do alright for myself.
You nodded. He did. From what you heard his win ratio was nearly 92% and he took upstanding cases. He was a good attorney. Normally you wouldn’t shit where you ate because mess was not your style. You did not want to walk into a courtroom or boardroom and see the opposing counsel was an ex. That one thing gave you nightmares.
So dating lawyers was out of the question. You dipped in every other career field, playing it safe. The further they were from a law career the better. However, after a conversation with your other lawyer girlfriends about limiting oneself in the already limited dating pool, something clicked, and you decided to try it once but only if they weren't in your firm. Darius was your first attempt.
As he continued to tell you facts about himself you listened, but he didn't have your full attention. There was another person who held your attention, a person who though was usually out of sight was never really out of mind.
You heard your phone sound from your clutch resting on the table and both your eyes shot to it. Darius spoke before you moved.
"Go ahead please."
"Are you sure?"
"I'm an attorney as well, Y/N I know you come attached to it."
You smiled, held up your finger to him silently promising it would be quick, then took your phone in hand. You expected it to be Kemi, your paralegal, with files you were expecting, but it wasn't her name on your screen.
MSG Lewis: What're you doing tonight? Going over an endless to-do list of contracts and briefs?
You smirked.
MSG: Not even close.
MSG Lewis: Wow did someone finally decide to live a little and cut loose?
MSG: This sounds an awful lot like the pot calling the kettle black.
MSG Lewis: Plead the 5th.
MSG: The Lewis Hamilton out maneuvered. Say it ain't so.
MSG: I'm close to your place. Just got back in town. Can you be ready in 10?
Your eyes flitted to Darius across from you who was taking the time to check his messages as well. You looked over him slowly, noting again how great he looked in his suit and how you liked the effort he had put in the last 2 dates down to the flowers he brought you and the activities you'd done. Things could progress if you chose to allow them to.
MSG Lewis: Is that a no?
MSG: I'm not home.
MSG Lewis: Okay. Where you at, the office? I can come pick you up.
MSG: I'm not at the office. I'm actually on a date.
You waited a few seconds, but he didn’t reply. Why didn't he reply?
"Everything ok?"
Caught off guard, you looked back up to Darius whose eyes were already on you. His brows were knitted with concern.
"Uh--yeah. I uh--I think so."
"A case?"
You thought about it and technically he was right. You were Lewis' entertainment lawyer. You were his personal attorney who reviewed the contracts after the company attorney said they had. You gave it to him between the eyes, never sugarcoating, and told him what was made with his best interest and what was made to capitalize off of him. However, when your services weren’t needed you were friends. Had been for practically a decade now.
Sometimes you couldn’t believe you’d known each other that long. You’d known him since he was just another F1 driver rather than the greatest. He knew you when you were going through school always on an empty tank all in the hopes of rising above the tax bracket you were born into. A decade later and he was dominating F1 and you’d more than risen yourself several levels past the tax bracket you’d been born into.
You were on the partner track at one of the largest firms in Europe. You brought in more revenue than most of the attorneys at the firm thanks to your high-class clientele. You'd both worked your asses off to get to this level and enjoyed the spoils of your labor often. You clubbed together, went to dinner, and sometimes did the vacation vibe together. You enjoyed one another’s company.  
"A client."
"Oh. Everything cool or---," Darius said.
Another message came in just then. "Everything is cool."
Darius smiled. "Good. I'll be right back, men’s room."
"Yeah."
Darius stood then walked off leaving you with the perfect opportunity to check your phone.
MSG Lewis: Is that right?
MSG: Yeah. 2nd date. Well technically 3rd if you can have 2 dates in one day.
MSG Lewis: Cool. Is it going well?
MSG: Yeah. He's made it this far.
MSG Lewis: Cool.
MSG: When he drops me home Ill text you. Come get me then.
Several moments passed before he replied. Again, you wondered why.
MSG Lewis: Cool.
The remainder of dinner you were distracted. Darius played all his cards right, even scoring himself the green light on a little hand-holding action. You had to admit he was smooth. When he pulled up to your condo building he walked you to your door then went in for a kiss. You hadn’t expected it, but rather than pull away, you allowed it to play out. It wasn’t a bad kiss. He hadn’t been too overzealous, only slipped you a little tongue, and had kept his hands respectful. All in all, for a first kiss it was a solid 8.
With a promise to call to set date number 4 sometime next week, you went inside and allowed yourself to come down. The dating scene was not something you enjoyed often. You always felt like you were performing, like men wanted a certain kind of woman, the perfect woman who they could prance around on their arm to make other men envious and that took its toll.
You never felt you had to perform with Lewis. Never felt like he wanted the perfect you. He made fun of you whenever you were perfectly put together for work meetings and said many times he liked you out of the makeup and heels. After another sigh, you took your phone out and texted him.
~~~~~~
-Lewis-
The ceiling looked like every other ceiling he’d ever seen but that didn’t stop him from focusing most of his attention on it like it was the most interesting piece of construction ever. His eyes should have been focused elsewhere but they weren’t. A loud 'slurp' echoed in the mostly quiet room reminding him again that he wasn’t alone.
"Mm. Why are you so distracted tonight, bae?"
Julissa's voice was as smooth as honey and as seductive as ever. He lowered his eyes to where she was kneeling between his legs and took her in. Her lips and chin were wet as she gave him her bedroom eyes. This was not the first time between them. Usually, it would work but not tonight. Tonight he was struggling to even keep his head in the room.
He watched her tip her tongue out and lick from the base of his dick to the glistening tip. Once there she swirled her tongue around him then sucked his head into her mouth. He’d have to be dead for it not to feel nice but that’s all it was--nice.
He sighed then brought his attention back to the ceiling. "Work."
"Aw babe, when you’re with me work should be the last thing on your mind," Julissa said before lowering her mouth down his shaft. When he felt her tonsils he groaned. His body wanted to like this wanted to give her the reaction she was working so hard for, but something was holding him back. Julissa's mouth bobbed up and down his cock sucking and slurping to her heart’s content trying to get him off, but he knew she had her work cut out for her.
He thought back to your text from 2 hours ago. You were on a date. Well shit, he hadn’t seen that coming. That was the last thing he had expected you to be doing tonight. It wasn’t because you weren’t desirable, or he thought no man would want you. For fuck's sake, you were beyond desirable, you were gorgeous and so damn intelligent. He couldn’t figure out which of those made you more beautiful, your looks or your brains. You also worked hard to be where you were, and you deserved all the praise and attention you got wherever you went.
However, sometimes he wished you got a little less male attention--x that, a lot less male attention. He sighed again. This had been going on for 10 years now. Your friendship had only strengthened but along with a strengthening friendship came a lot of other stuff. Stuff like him taking notice of the fullness of your hips or being tempted to peek when you’d been changing in the backseat of his car, or being painfully aware of how your breasts felt against his chest when you hugged.
That coupled with things he had picked up from you, made the unspoken and ignored things that much more—confusing. There were times when the way you stared at him when you thought he wasn’t looking spoke volumes or the way your hand always lingered on him for a few seconds longer than necessary but not long enough for it to be inappropriate, or the time you'd fallen asleep together on the couch and he'd woken to you wrapped around him using him as your personal body pillow and mumbling his name in your sleep.
Yeah, there was a lot of extra stuff, stuff neither of you ever addressed. The only ones who assessed it were his friends. Miles told him on several occasions that he should be careful before he or you fucked around, and someone ended up hurt. That stuck with him, but not in the way Miles had probably meant it. Rather than taking it the way Miles meant, he used it as a means to keep himself in check, a form of prevention from him crossing the line. He knew if he did, neither of you would be able to go back. It would be impossible and was one fuck up worth a decades-long friendship?
So friends were where you stayed until he added another facet--professional. Years passed, dates passed, flings, non-labeled encounters on both your parts passed and through it all your friendship remained, and nothing changed. Except today there was even more extra stuff.
The feel of Julissa’s lips wrapped around his balls sent his hips jerking upward as a curse left his lips. Julissa moaned and giggled.
“Daddy likes that?”
He knew how he would like it more. As quickly as he revved to that thought he steered away from it. That was when his phone sounded.
MSG Y/N: I’m home. Whatdaya you wanna do? Should I change?
His eye caught the time. 1am. Almost 3 hours from your last text and you were only now getting home. Clenching his jaw he took a deep breath. He had no right to be mad or annoyed right now. He knew where this was coming from. You’d been on a date, and you said it was going well. A date going well had a chance of making it upstairs. He closed his eyes squeezing them tightly. He hoped to God that you hadn’t just gotten it in.
MSG Y/N: Hello?
MSG: You don’t have to change. How about some treats and a view?
MSG Y/N: Okay. Still 10?
MSG: Make it 15.
Pulling himself up he reached down to stop Julissa. She looked confused.
“I gotta go J.”
Now she looked even more confused. He didn’t owe her an explanation, that’s not how this worked between them.
“With your dick out?”
He scoffed then fixed himself as he stood.
“Lewis this’s never happened before. Are--,” she began before he cut her off.
“All good, just—not in the mood I guess.”
She looked offended now. “I’m sorry J. We’ll talk.”
He walked to the door then left her apartment without a glance back. He didn’t feel any way about it because both of them knew what their relationship was and wasn’t. She’d agreed. Once he was in his car, he zipped through the London streets maneuvering the quickest route to your place. Thanks to the time it was an easy drive with minimal traffic. 15 minutes on the dot he swerved around to the front of your luxury condo building then sent you a text letting you know he was there.
A few minutes later, he peeped you from the corner of his eye. You walked off the elevator in a short and tight black dress, impossibly high strappy black heels, and a flowy robe-like jacket that danced behind you as you walked.
“Fuck.”
You were beautiful. Just then the thought that you’d gone on a date dressed like this rubbed him wrong. Some other man had seen this view, a view you gave willingly. Clenching his jaw, he looked through his windshield as he tried to push all those thoughts—all that other stuff to the side as he’d done countless times before. He looked back just in time to see you open the door of his car then climb in. His eyes dropped to your legs but seconds later he corrected that.
“Hi!”
Your smile was bright as if you really were as happy to see him as your voice indicated.
“Hey.”
You reached over and pressed your cheek to his for a bougie kiss. The only thing he could think was that you smelled like a treat all by yourself.
“How are you?”
“Good. You?”
“Good. Wow, what’s it been? 2 months?”
He shrugged as he shifted gears and took off. “Something like that.”
“Mercedes sure knows how to keep you busy,” you teased.
He tried to focus on the road but from his peripheral, he could see you crossing your legs displaying even more skin.
“What were you doing? You smell like fruits.”
He chastised himself because he hadn’t done a bit of cleaning up before he came. His only thought was you. Julissa’s fruity lip gloss still stained his dick that he couldn’t manage to get hard for her.
“Nowhere special. Just kickin’ it.”
You didn’t press further which said you knew just what he was doing. He clenched his jaw again, this time annoyed with himself. As he drove to the dessert place you told him about what was going on in your life while he shared some bits of his with you. Like always conversation flowed like a calm river. It was something he loved. It didn’t take long for him to pull up to the drive-thru of the vegan dessert shop. When it was his turn at the window he tipped his hat lower and left the ordering to you.
You ordered damn near everything on the menu. You didn’t care if it was cake, cupcake, ice cream, brownie, or whipped cream. You ordered at least 2 of everything. It took the staff a good 5 minutes to prepare it all and when he loaded them in the backseat it was completely filled. When he looked at you with an “are you serious right now” look, all you did was giggle. Fuck, he thought. There went all that extra stuff again.
���There is no way we can finish all this,” he said looking at the bags they’d moved to the front since parking at their destination.
“Speak for yourself. I always have room for sugar, sugar.”
He snorted then shook his head. “Mad whack.”
Your jaw dropped as you gaped at him, and you looked too fucking adorable. You sifted through the bags until you found the dessert you wanted—the vanilla bean cheesecake. Your eyes lit up as you gawked at the large slice that was topped with white chocolate shavings. “It's so pretty,” you gushed.
He watched you snap picture after picture of the treat before you took your first forkful. When you did, your eyes rolled to the back of your head as you let out a completely indulgent, hearty, and dick-hardening moan. The fuck, he thought as his dick spasmed to life. Quickly he moved one of the bags to his lap and looked out the window.
“This is so good,” you obliviously said still munching on cake.
He pulled out the vegan chocolate truffle cake and took a bite. It too was good.
“That looks good. Is it?”
“Try it,” he said holding out a forkful to your mouth.
You paused for a split second then cut off a piece of your cheesecake before you held your fork to his mouth.
“You try too.”
The image that came to mind was that of a new husband and wife feeding each other wedding cake and with it, his throat went dry. He knew if he tried to speak he’d sound like a pre-pubescent boy, so he wrapped his lips around your fork taking the piece of cake then fed you his. Your eyes lingered on one another for a few moments nut when you moaned again his dick spasmed again. with that he turned his head so fast that he was surprised he hadn’t snapped his own neck in the process.
“So good,” you repeated.
The two of you sat there commenting on the desserts you went through in record time. He didn’t indulge in sweets often but when he did he found it was usually with your sugar-addicted ass. You said there were 4 things in life you would never give up, sugar, your favorite perfume, your favorite underwear set, and sex. He believed you on all points. When there were only a few pieces of cake left the silence in the car stretched.
“So—a date huh.”
“A date.”
“I thought you gave up dating.”
You took a deep breath then slowly released it before turning your body at an angle facing him. The hem of your dress hiked a little higher and he forced himself to look away.
“I did. Then I got bored and he asked.”
“What does he do?”
You didn’t answer automatically, instead, you took another forkful or 2 of cake, then you spoke.
“He’s an attorney.”
“I thought you didn’t date attorneys.”
“I don’t but me and the girls were talking, and it clicked that by x-ing out a whole career field greatly decreased me finding someone who could stick around.”
He paused. Stick around? This was new.
“Stick around? Are you—are you looking for something—serious?”
You took a beat then shrugged. “I don’t know. I thought the other day, I have everything I have ever wanted. I am on this partner track, I make very high 6 figures, I have a great condo, my mental health is amazing, I have no debt, no baby daddies or drama, I—I’m kinda a catch but I go to sleep alone 98% of my nights. I come home to an empty place, I have no meaningful text exchanges, there is—nothing fulfilling in my life. I began to wonder if it was time to change all of that last bit.”
Silence stretched again as he thought over your words while studying you. This was the first time he’d heard you speak like this. Usually, you changed the subject or downplayed having any other thoughts than fun, sex, and work. Now hearing the vulnerability in your voice he knew you’d come to a point where all of this, intention-free dating, pastime sex, stress-busting flirting and all the meaningless interactions were unfulfilling and empty. You wanted more, you wanted love, a life, a husband, kids, vacation homes, and retirement funds, you wanted the quintessential definition of it all. He also noted you now found everything he was currently partaking in meaningless and unfulfilling.
Dropping his head, he stabbed the cake still in his hands. The more puncture holes it picked up the less and less he wanted it.
“Fuck, maybe I’m just bored and need a really, really, good fuck.”
He snorted but it was humorless.
“Don’t downplay what you feel, Y/N. Don’t—make what you feel insignificant, so you feel less vulnerable. It’s okay to be vulnerable. It’s you and me here.”
“It’s just—you—I know those are things you don’t necessarily want and you’re happy with the--.”
“Who said I don’t want those things?”
His tone was sharp and defensive though he hadn’t meant for it to be.
“Uh—you did.”
“No. I said it’s not something I can afford right now with my schedule and my contract extension. I didn’t say I never wanted it.”
You looked away from him to out the window. “Yeah, but your actions say a lot different,” you mumble.
“What does that mean?”
“Nothing.”
“Y/N, look at me. What does that mean?”
You sat quietly for a few moments then just when he was about to ask again you blurted.
“There is a difference between I don’t want it now and I don’t want it ever. Someone who wants it someday would leave themselves open to it rather than boxing every interaction they have into--other things.”
“What if I don’t want to open myself to it?”
“That’s clear Lew.”
“No. You don’t get it. What if I don’t want to open myself to it because I don’t want to find the perfect thing—the perfect woman and then be fucked because it’s too soon and too hard to keep her in my world to wait until I can make those commitments because my world is fucked—I’m fucked because I want the world and will actually keep going until I get it anyone else be damned.”
He could feel your eyes on him, and it was his turn to feel vulnerable and exposed.
“You think because you put everyone in one box it stops what’s meant to be from—being?”
He glanced at you with a pained expression, he knew it. He was actually feeling pain.
“Also—you’re not fucked because you want the world. I want the fucking world. Am I fucked?”
“To be determined.”
You both busted out laughing then. You laughed for a good minute then smiled as it tapered off.
“Aren’t you the tiniest bit lonely in the other side of your life—away from F1?”
He didn’t need to think about that. He knew the answer, but he didn’t want to tell you. The facts were that he was lonely more times than not. That was when he called someone to come distract him or make him feel good. He’d become an expert in the art of distraction. In his life, he only had time and the capacity for low stress and no mess. He had enough of both already.
He felt your hand creep into his and squeeze gently. Suddenly, there was all this other stuff again. The feel of your smaller hand in his larger one was something he really liked. Usually, when either of you took the other’s hand it was in passing or for a second, but the moment lingered and stretched, and still you kept your hand in his swirling your fingers against his palm and other fingers. He liked this too much.
“You can tell me. I won’t judge you. In fact—I’m lonely.”
His eyes slipped to you. Your head was down staring at your hands. It had now moved to trace the tattoos on his hand with the point of your nail as if his flesh were an adult coloring book. He watched you trace the rose on his pinky, then the planets on his ring finger. When you got to the lined arrow down his middle, he was having trouble swallowing again. Slowly, you traced the spaceship then went up across the sword until you reached his wrist.
He didn’t know if there was rhyme or reason to your movements or if you were just absently doing it. Goosebumps peppered his skin when you went up his forearm. He looked at you just before your eyes met his.
“You are?”
You nodded. “I am,” you whispered.
The air was on but inside the car easily felt like a sweltering 99 degrees. He didn’t know if it was from your touch or if it was the shift in the air between you. Did you notice it too?
“I think it’s okay to be lonely especially looking at how we live. We’re always working, always pushing ourselves to and through glass ceilings and when we do there is no one really there to share it with, not really, not in the way that fulfills,” you said.
Your face was closer to his now. Had he moved closer or was it you? Your eyes met again, and the temperature kicked up again. Fuck, he thought as his dick recklessly spasmed, begging for attention.
“I’m never lonely with you,” he said before his brain could stop his mouth.
A small smile lit your face, “Me too. Never with you.”
The smile slipped. “Well—not always.”
He turned to you more now, curiosity filling him. “What do you mean?”
You stayed quiet for a few moments but kept tracing his skin with your nail.
“There are times I can’t—guess what you’re thinking. Times I can’t—figure you out.”
“Then ask me.”
“Would you really tell me?”
He leaned closer. “I’d tell you anything.”
You searched his eyes, but you didn’t move back.
“Anything?”
He nodded slowly. His head felt hazy like you had him under some sort of spell with nothing more than your presence and the tip of your finger and all he truly wanted was to touch you in return. So he did. Reaching across to your exposed knee, he circled his finger around the smooth skin there. You sucked in a breath the moment his finger touched you and that one action nearly had him pulling you across the partition right onto his lap. Nearly.
So there on a hill that overlooked London, in his car, sitting near enough to a lone road light, you trailed your finger across his forearm while he did the same to your knee. The low light that illuminated the car bathed your skin in amber making him feel like you were on a whole different plane of existence rather than this real proven and tangible one. Your eyes held him in place to the point where he felt like he couldn’t move though he wanted to.
Without even realizing it you were mere inches from him. In fact, you were so close he could make out the hidden colors in your eyes, so close he could smell the fragrance on your skin that went deeper than perfume. This was your essence and by God he was intoxicated. Unable to stop himself, he inched his hand higher gripping your inner thigh. A soft moan fell from your lips and that was all it took for him to press his forehead to yours like the sound was tethered to his very core.
“Y/N,” he groaned.
The sheer might it was taking to keep himself restrained was becoming too much. At this point, it wouldn’t take much for him to abandon those restraints and give in.
“Lewis,” you whispered.
Your voice was raspy and dripping with what he dared label as desire. Fuck, he thought as he squeezed your thigh. He was so close, mere inches and it wouldn’t take much to close the gap between his fingers and your core but still, he fought himself. He was so wrapped up in his own battle for control within himself that he didn’t even realize when your hand rested on his upper thigh. You were dangerously close to kicking the lid off the box of other stuff that he’d worked years to keep shut. Half of him silently begged for you to keep going and kick it off so everything would be out in the open and it would be do or die but the other half of him hesitated still. The unknown was a powerful and sobering drug.
Your hand inched higher, then closer to what was the rock-hard physical evidence that deep down, now closer to the surface than ever before, he felt more, wanted more than what was. He wanted more than he could possibly afford. Still, his hand persisted, it inched higher making your hips jerk forward. The knowledge that he’d hit a sensitive spot sent his system into overdrive making a deep moan from his lips fill the car.
On cue in response, your legs opened a few inches more, making way for his hand. Jesus Christ he thought. There was his consent, you wanted him as he wanted you. There would be nothing wrong with him slipping his fingers underneath whatever underwear you wore. Fuck, he hoped they were lacy and strappy. There would be nothing wrong with him letting your hand slide to the aching dick straining against his pants begging for your attention. Shit, he bet your hands would feel incredible wrapped around him. There would be nothing wrong with him moving closer and finally claiming your lips as his. Damn, he just knew they were as sweet as they looked, that they felt amazing. There would be nothing wrong with him pulling your body against his for more than a clothed hug. There would be nothing wrong with him cupping your breasts and swirling his thumb across your nipple just to see the reaction it elicited. God damn it, he knew your moans would destroy him. There would be nothing wrong with him finally learning what you tasted like, nothing wrong with him finally smearing your wetness across his lips. Holy fuck, he knew you had to taste like pure sugar and cream.
His cock spasmed again then your hand made the move for him. In the same breath with his eyes squeezed tight, he lurched for your hand, gripping you by your wrist stopping you just before you touched him. As he did that his jaw clenched, the only thing he could do to stifle the moan at the tip of his tongue. It came out as a half groan and growl instead. The strangled whine that left you said you liked it, and he knew he had to end this here. It took him some time to find the smallest bit of control to open his eyes, but he didn’t possess enough control to look at you. There was no way he could.
“I’ll take you home,” he said, voice low and so close to a whisper.
He tried to keep the longing, regret, and hope from it. Slowly he removed his hand from your thigh hoping with everything in him that you grabbed it and nudged it higher. You didn’t though, so he turned forward readying himself to drive. You didn’t move for several long moments; you remained there half facing him with your thighs still tempting him to go back and take things further. With his hands on the steering wheel, he trained his eyes forward. He could feel all the antsy energy bouncing off every cell of his body, he could feel all the need in him wreaking havoc on him telling him to stop being a pussy and do what he really wanted to, say what he wanted to, take what he wanted.
His hands squeezed so tightly that the creaking of the leather echoed in the intense silence in the car. Just when he was about to say fuck it, you turned away from him. You softly cleared your throat then buckled yourself in. Sighing, he pushed started the ignition then swerved out of the parked spot they were in taking the route back to the city. As he drove you didn’t speak, you didn’t even move. You kept your head turned away from him looking out the passenger window with your legs crossed away from him. Your body language sent a completely different message now. Before you were open and so close to him. Now, you were so far he wondered if he’d turned Miles’ words into truths.
~~~~~
-Y/N- 8 Months Later-
The loud ‘pop’ of a champagne cork echoed just behind you making you spin in that direction. A group was just behind you laughing and toasting to something you guessed was momentous. You sighed then turned back to the painting you were currently studying. The abstract lines and swoops looked so similar to the slopes of a body. The longer you stared at it the more it felt like an erotic image than some random lines and swirls. There was something about it that stirred something in you, something that you’d ignored and buried so deep, something you hadn’t felt for 8 months.
You drained your champagne glass then squeezed your eyes shut. It had been a long 8 months. You’d worked your ass off times ten taking on more and more clients than before. You brought on 12 celebrity clients and 4 major corporate ones which brought Halsey, Boyd, and Crenshaw to the top of the field in revenue. You brought in so much money that you’d gotten 7 poaching offers from firms in different parts of the country.
Thanks to those offers that you hadn’t necessarily kept confidential, the interest in you for partner rose to unbeatable levels. Anyone you were competing against for the position paled in comparison. Those 8 months of ass-busting work led to your name being signed on the paperwork titling you as the new partner at Halsey Boyd and Crenshaw. It was so much of a done deal that your bank account proudly embraced your new status.
With that new status came an increase in the events you had to make an appearance at as thee number 1 entertainment and criminal attorney in London. Your calendar quickly filled with meetings, speeches, appearances, court appearances, dinners, and more. You were so booked that the next time you had any schedule free time was 6 months away. You’d catapulted so far out of your original tax bracket that you’d shattered the glass ceiling that tried to confine you and now you wondered if you’d aimed too high.
“Looks like I’m right on time.”
You looked to your right and found Darius holding another glass of champagne for you. Smiling, you took it.
“That you are, thank you.”
“Of course. To you, the youngest and newest partner at Halsey Boyd and Crenshaw and in the greater London area.”
You smiled as the man who’d stuck around through your insane schedule, your hot and cold behavior, your pull you close one minute, push you away the next, your disappearing acts, your reluctance to place a label on your interactions, your give me sex then get gone rule, and more for the last 8 months.
“Thank you, Darius,” you said leaning toward him and pressing your lips against his.
Darius moaned and reciprocated the kiss, snaking his hand around your waist and pulling you close. You felt like you were thanking him for much more than the toast and the fresh glass of champagne. You felt like you were thanking him for taking your bare minimum and it made you feel like shit.
Darius pressed his forehead to yours and instantly you had a flash back to the last man who’d done that to you. In a split second, your heart rate spiked, and an intense feeling gripped you.
“You don’t have to thank me, love.”
Your reaction to the action ricocheted through you making you pull away from Darius. Turning back to the painting, you gulped down the champagne.
“It’s crazy that your firm has so many celebrity clients and that this many are here to welcome you as partner,” Darius said in hushed tones.
“It is crazy.”
All night you’d been rubbing elbows with actors, musicians, models, athletes, and more. All of them congratulated you on your promotion and wished you greater success in the future. It was touching but a little bit overwhelming. You couldn’t let on though, so for the entire night you’d been performing, and you were nearing the limits of your stamina for it. You’d been performing for the last 8 months. Shit, you’d even been performing with Darius. You’d been performing ever since you were dropped off in those early morning hours those 8 months ago.
“Y/N,”
To your left, your paralegal now turned assistant, Kemi touched your elbow drawing your attention to her.
“Hey, girl.”
“Hey, you look incredible,” she said.
“Stop saying that please, you’re gonna blow my head up so big I just might start thinking I deserve a higher position.”
She giggled but gave you a look that said “well ya’ do.”
“The big wigs are asking for you, although you’re now one of them so--.”
You snorted while rolling your eyes. “Then doesn’t that make you the big wig assistant?”
She posed then making you laugh.
“I’ll be right back,” you said to Darius as you walked off to find those big wigs.
It didn’t take long before you found them surrounded by a group of about 10 people. When they saw you they waved you over with large smiles on their faces. You took a deep breath and approached them with an equally large smile.
“There she is ladies and gentlemen!”
The group smiled, patted your back, and welcomed you with friendly banter.
“Everyone!”
The music died down and someone handed Malcolm Boyd a microphone. He was your biggest fan, a black man who’d made unfathomable feats in the field and became an incredible mentor and second father to you. He put his arm around your shoulder as he always did.
“I am filled with great happiness and pride calling this woman the new partner here at Halsey, Boyd, and Crenshaw!”
Everyone began applauding then, drowning out his next words so he paused and allowed them a few moments before continuing.
“She has been with us for 6 years now and in those 6 years she has accomplished incredible things and when she was done with those incredible things she moved on to outstanding things. Y/N has reminded many of us of what it means to be determined and persistent. She tackles every case with poise, confidence, and grace and that confidence has given her that 99% win record.”
Again everyone clapped. You softly smiled at them half embarrassed by the praise but half so damn proud of yourself and happy that your accomplishments were being recognized.
“Just as Malcome said, “Patrick Halsey began placing his hand on Malcom’s shoulder, “Y/N more than deserves this promotion and I expect her to blow all of our minds in the coming months and years. We just might have to add another name to the plague.”
Many in the audience hollered and hooted at that and you couldn’t lie that the greedy ambition within you salivated at that possibility. You still wanted more. You exchanged a look with Malcome who gave you an all-knowing look. You just found your next accomplishment. The founding partners took turns praising you and giving reasons why you’d earned this promotion then raised their glasses to you for the ultimate toast of congratulations. You humbly thanked them and gave a quick appreciative speech before lifting your glass to the audience.
As you drank down the tart liquid, your eye caught sight of a figure you hadn’t seen in person for almost 2 months—Lewis. He stood at the back in a black suit that clearly was made for him. His braids were pulled back in the way he liked when he was tackling more professional events. He looked as good as ever. He lifted his glass of water to you and in response you gave him a tight smile.
The same thing happened that always happened when you met one another ever since that night. Your body went through this strange cycle of reaction, excitement, confusion, hurt, anger, annoyance, and disappointment. It was exhausting. Because of these feelings, you regretted that night. You regretted allowing your thoughts to go so astray that you opened up your ‘what if’ box. You regretted every whisper, every lean in, every almost touch, every lingering look, everything. You even regretted getting out of his car when he pulled up to your condo instead of pulling him by his hair to you and telling him to go upstairs with you. you didn’t know what you regretted more.
The worst part was that you had to continue on like always. Normally it wouldn’t be a problem because that night was not the first night there had been many ‘what if’ nights over your decade-long friendship. The common factor was that both of you moved on and slinked back into the basics of your relationship—comfort and friendship. This time is difficult, so difficult you contemplated passing his case off to another attorney. If it hadn’t been for Malcome talking you out of it he would have been someone else’s responsibility. Instead, you put on your big girl panties and a mask and did something you never thought you’d ever do with him—performed.
When the crowd thinned out and everyone returned to what they were doing you began making your way back to Darius in the opposite direction. You were ready to leave. Before you got far Lewis stepped in front of you stopping you in your tracks.
“Congratulations, Y/N.”
Smiling, you thanked him.
“You look--,” his words stalled as his eyes roamed your body. You noted the conflicted look on his face before it disappeared. “Incredible,” Lewis finished.
His compliment made your body warm and something like hope filled you. Chastising yourself you swallowed the lump in your throat. “Thank you. You look nice too.”
Lewis scoffed softly then nodded. You then tried to slip by him, however, Lewis wasn’t having it. Again, he stepped in front of you.
“In a rush to get away from me?”
“Why would you say that? Have you done anything to me for me to want that?”
Silence stretched and Lewis studied you his jaw clenched tightly. Instead of speaking, he looked down, an act of defeat.
“Can we talk, Y/N?”
“We’re talking right now.”
He gave you an unamused look, but you kept your nonchalant, innocent one. Unexpectedly Miles approached then.
“There she is--partner lady. Congratulations Y/N.”
You smiled then hugged Miles. “Thank you!”
“This is incredible news, Y/N. So happy for you.”
“I appreciate that. Thank you for coming,” you replied.
“You know me, always this fool’s plus one.”
You smiled then the silence returned for a few seconds before Lewis spoke again.
“Maybe we can go somewhere—quiet after this?”
“Unfortunately I don’t think I can.”
“Why?”
Just then Darius approached and wrapped his arm around your waist resting his hand on your hip. You watched Lewis’ eyes drop to that hand and continued to watch as his jaw turned tight as if it filled with cement.
“Oh wow. Lewis Hamilton,” Darius said turning to you, his voice awestricken. “Babe it’s Lewis Hamilton.”
You nodded as a soft smile played on your lips. “Let me introduce you. Darius, this is one of my clients, Lewis Hamilton, and his best friend Miles Chamley-Watson fencing champion and Olympian. Miles, Lewis this is my—.”
You hesitated and in the same second, you felt Darius’ eyes on you filled with hope. Two other pairs of eyes were on you--one giving complete double eyeball emoji and the other searing you almost daring you to continue. The longer you didn’t speak, you watched Darius’ hope turn to disappointment. Glancing back at Lewis you found his eyebrow up with a curious and confrontational look while Miles was the epitome of if ‘well this is awkward’ was a person.
“This is Darius Forrester.”
You felt even more like shit now. Darius shook Lewis’ hand first then Miles’. While he did Lewis looked him over sizing him up. You knew he was wondering if he was the same man from those months ago when you’d told him you were on a date.
“It’s a pleasure to meet you, I’m a fan,” Darius said to Lewis.
“Thank you. I appreciate that. I can sign something for you if you want.”
You rolled your eyes at his underhanded jab while a half chortle escaped Miles. Darius on the other hand leapt at the opportunity, handing Lewis the only thing he had, an art bidding ballot. Lewis signed the back but kept his eyes on Darius’ hand on your hip.
“Bidding on some art tonight?”
“I am. There is a piece this gorgeous angel has been staring at all night, it’ll be my gift to her for her promotion,” Darius explained rubbing your hip.
You smiled at him then kissed his cheek. Lewis now looked entertained while Miles’ eyes widened as he finished the drink in his hand.
“Ehm, anyway. So I’m sorry I can’t pencil you in tonight but if you call Kemi and make an appointment she’ll get you on the calendar for a different day for that talk,” you said.
“Plans tonight,” Miles guessed looking between you and Darius.
“Absolutely. I’ve had way too much to drink and plan on taking advantage of that.”
You leaned closer to Darius kicking up your performance another notch. Lewis smirked but also clenched his jaw to that. Miles whistled while nodding his head.
“Go on then Ms. Partner, fly by the seat of your panties or no panties,” Miles teased making you and Darius chuckle while Lewis gave him an unamused look.
“Well, enjoy your evening gentlemen. Thank you again for coming by,” you said before you made a move to walk off with Darius.
As you walked away you placed your hand over Darius’ and slyly slipped it lower to rest on your ass. You knew Lewis was watching and decided to deliver the last blow. Was it petty? Yes. Was it fair to Daius? Not at all.
The next hour or so passed with you roaming around the gallery looking at the art while Darius flirted with you. As you roamed, no matter where you went you saw Lewis from the corner of your eye and no matter how much space was between you, your skin reacted as if Darius’ touch was his. The more you felt that way the reality that Darius’ touch was in fact all his own annoyed you making you feel even worse. You knew what needed to be done and knew it had to be done soon.
The only way you could distract yourself was with glass after glass of champagne. As you emerged from one of your countless trips to the bathroom you bumped into Miles.
“Funny bumping into you here.”
You smiled warmly, “Still here? I thought you and Lewis left hours ago.”
“You knew we were still here,” he accused.
You tried to give an affronted look but failed. He was right. Sighing, your act fell for the first time that night.
“Wow. Feels good to not perform huh.”
You looked at Miles and wondered just how much he knew. He didn’t keep you in suspense long.
“What a twisted web we weave when we practice to deceive.” He scoffed, shook his head then continued, look, I am going to tell you the same thing I told Lewis.”
You perked up then but tried to play it off.
“You better stop playing before somebody gets hurt and by the looks of it, it’s gonna be your homeboy Darius if not all three of you.”
You took in his words then put your mask back in place. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Yeah you do, just like Lewis knew what I was talking about all those years ago, but he still decided to keep playing, and now look where we are.”
Your curiosity peaked then. “What are you talking about Miles? What do you think you know?”
He scoffed. “I’m a straightforward kinda guy so I’ll say I know everything. As the neutral 3rd party who is both on the outside looking in and the inside watching this train wreck, I know everything. I know what he tells me and what he doesn’t tell me, and I know what you don’t tell him.”
Your eyes lingered and the longer they did the more you got his meaning. Glancing away you tried to pretend like his words meant nothing, but you knew you were failing.
“I get it, I really do; 10 years is a long time to put at risk but are you really putting it at risk knowing all you know? You have 10 years of proof. Man up.”
Miles leaned in, kissed your cheek, and whispered, “Let homeboy go so he can find someone who really loves him, someone who can love him. Your corner is full.”
With that, he walked away leaving you speechless and confused. Your corner was full? You had no idea whatsoever what that meant, and you were tempted to follow Miles and get some clarification, but you decided against it remembering the last time you chased down the rabbit hole. When you found Darius again his expression was somber when he told you that the painting he’d been bidding on was outbid and that he didn’t have it to gift you. After assuring him you were fine, you decided you were more than ready to leave.
Darius got the car as you waited outside allowing the cold air to cool your skin. You didn’t care that you were risking illness because it served as a needed distraction. When you felt a fabric drape over your shoulders you bristled at first but then Lewis’ scent circled you and your body relaxed. Even that annoyed you.
“I don’t need this. Darius will be back soon anyway.”
Lewis snorted. “8 months, is that a record?”
“I think it’s a record for you, but I’ve gone longer.”
He scoffed then shook his head. “No doubt, remember Y/N. I will be here long after you get bored with them all. I’m always here.”
Your eyes locked and his should have been radiating cockiness that matched his words, but instead, they were gentle, open, and vulnerable.
“Will you?”
There was no time to reply because a car horn blared drawing your attention. Darius waved at you as he got out of the car to walk around to the passenger side.
“Good night Lewis.”
You walked away from him then slipped into the passenger side. As you waited for Darius to get in and drive off, you stared at Lewis who hadn’t budged from the curb where you left him. Miles’ words echoed back to you then.
“Just like Lewis knew what I was talking about all those years ago, but he still decided to keep playing, and now look where we are.”
“You have 10 years of proof.”
“Your corner is full.”
The word ���full’ echoed over and over as Darius pulled off. Bullshit, you said to yourself in disbelief.
When Darius pulled up to your condo you sat there marinating in all your thoughts throughout the nearly thirty-minute drive. It wasn’t until you felt Darius’ hand on your exposed knee did you realize he was still there.
“Are you okay? Want me to come up?”
You closed your eyes and took a deep breath. “We need to talk Darius.”
When you looked at him his expression said he knew just what you were about to say. Being as gentle as you could, you ended things. Although the old “it’s not you it’s me” line fit the situation perfectly. You dug a little deeper and gave him and heartfelt reason without revealing you were and had been in love with your best friend for 10 years and didn’t realize it until his feelings were already on the line. When you finished, Darius remained the good guy he was and told you he understood and that he’d expected this sooner or later. You thanked him for being good to you then began making your way to the elevators.
Halfway there you dug into the pocket of the jacket you wore and froze. When you took your hand out you held a note with your name sprawled on the front in Lewis’ handwriting.
-Y/N-
I’ve thought for months about what to say to you because there is so much to say, so much that has gone unsaid for so long that I don’t know where to start—how to start. 10 years is a long time especially when neither of us has been 100% honest with the other. I want to end that. Please.
-Lewis
You read then reread the note over and over hoping you would know what to do next but no matter how many times you did, you had nothing. So you walked back and forth in the lobby. When your phone sounded, you found a message from Lewis.
MSG Lewis: Ball’s in your court. I’m outside your building.
You froze then slowly turned and saw his car. It had been months since you’d been in a car with him and the thought of doing it again freaked you out a little. Your eyes met at that moment, but he didn’t move. He was giving you the time to decide for yourself. You turned your back to him then walked to the elevators but stopped halfway. After a few moments, you turned back around and walked to the doors only to stop halfway again and repeat the whole cycle. Still, Lewis didn’t budge. He just watched as your internal debate played out physically.
After ten minutes you stooped down and put your down, completely exhausted by your indecisiveness. Taking a deep breath, you held it and allowed your lungs to adjust. It was an action you often did to help you think and calm down. As your oxygen levels decreased your heartbeat would slow and as it did, there was always one particular beat where you figured it all out. It usually came right in the nick of time.
So you allowed your heartbeat to slow and though you should have panicked you didn’t. You thought clearer than you’d ever thought before.
“I know what he tells me and what he doesn’t tell me, and I know what you don’t tell him.”
Miles’ words came back to you again and it was then you gasped filling your lungs with air. After a few breaths, you stood then turned to the doors. It worked all the time. With your head high and back straight you walked toward them then climbed inside Lewis’ car. Without a word, he pulled off then turned back onto the streets.
~~~~~~
Thirty minutes later you walked into a penthouse suite right behind Lewis.
“Why here?”
“Thought neutral ground would make you more comfortable.”
You scoffed and beelined right to the bar, tossing his suit jacket over the back of one of the bar stools. As you mixed yourself a drink you tried not to focus on him, but you did. No matter where he went you knew. You were hypersensitive to him at this point. You’d only meant to make a glass but ended up making a whole shaker cup. You kicked off your heels, climbed onto the bar stool then plopped yourself on the countertop. Once comfortable you crossed your legs and sipped your drink.
“Where’s Darius?”
“Not here obviously.”
“You and I are so alike it’s insane,” he said as he approached you, but he didn’t come close. He stopped at the sectional couches in the middle of the large living area and then sat.
The silence in the room was thick for such a long time you began thinking about leaving altogether.
“Congratulations again. I’m so fucking proud of you. You saw something you wanted and didn’t stop until you got it. You deserve this.”
Your stomach flipped hearing his praise. More than anyone he knew what you’d gone through to get here. It touched you. Looking away from him, you cleared your throat. “Thanks.”
His eyes remained on you as if daring you to look back at him. It was a dare you had to accept. Your eyes locked and you instantly felt it. There was so much to say. Just behind him, you saw something familiar. Squinting, you made out the painting you’d been staring at all night, the painting Darius wanted to bid on for you. It clicked then, the reason why Darius couldn’t win it was because Lewis claimed it first. You scoffed, the man was competitive and dominant to a fault. You couldn’t help but be touched by the gesture though.
Lewis sighed bringing your eyes back to him, “I don’t even know where to start,” groaned, rubbed his eyes then spoke again. “Maybe I’m sorry is a good place.”
You studied him for a few moments then took a mouthful of your drink. “For what?”
“You know for what.”
That night.
Those words hung in the air, and you did your best to remain aloof. Scoffing, you shook your head. “It’s all good Lewis.”
“You’re lying and you know it. I thought attorneys believed in the truth.”
“Who are you to tell me what my truth is?!”
You hadn’t meant to shout it, but you did.
“Because more times than not our truths match up and I am sure that what happened was not all good to you because it wasn’t to me.”
“And what exactly wasn’t all good to you?”
“The way we—I left things,” he quietly said.
You waited for him to continue because there was no way in hell you were going to make this easy for him. He wanted to talk so he’d talk. Lewis shook his head then hung it backward. He sat there staring into the ceiling for almost a full minute before he looked back at you.
“I just—flipped when we were—you were—you wanted--,” he stuttered.
You scoffed again, “Don’t flatter yourself, Lewis,” you said slipping into the barstool and spinning it around so your back faced him.
“What?”
“You and I both know that none of that meant anything to you. It’s all good.”
“Now who’s telling who what their truth is?”
You didn’t take the bait, instead, you kept your back to him and finished your glass.
“You forget, I know you, Lewis. 10 years of friendship and I know you so well that it was my own damn fault that night.”
“Whatdaya know?”
After refilling your glass you turned back around then hopped off the stool and walked toward the large floor-to-ceiling window. “I know that that you were with one of your rotation chicks before you came to pick me up. I smelled her on you. That fruity aroma was all her. I know that because of that tidbit of info, none of it meant anything.”
Leaning against the window you stared down at the view of London. Lights glistened down below, and you imagined everyone scurrying to where they had to go so wrapped up in their own thoughts or existence to even suspect that it all was fleeting.
“Okay, I’ll own that bit. Yeah, I was with one of them but that was only after I found out you were on a date.”
“So it’s my fault. I was on a date living my life, so you decided to get your dick wet. Okay.”
You took another sip from your glass not liking the direction of this little talk he wanted to have.
“I never said it was your fault. It’s just a fact. I texted you because I wanted to see you, wanted to spend time with you and you were spending time with someone else, someone you probably did God knows what with hours before you saw me.”
And with that, you were done here. Finishing the glass you turned and walked to the door.
“Good night Lewis.”
He scurried in front of you blocking your path. “Wait, please. Shit! I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said that.”
“Two sorries in the span of twenty minutes, cool. Get out of my way.”
“No, Y/N, please wait.”
You sighed, rubbing your forehead. “I’m sick and tired of waiting. I’ve waited 10 years!”
“You’ve waited? I’ve—.”
Lewis threw his hands up then walked away grunting and talking to himself. He looked insane and it kind of made you pleased seeing it. He always appeared so in control, so aware of himself and his actions at all times. It had all gone to shit now. You stood there debating if you should just leave and let things remain how they were until the day you both just stopped talking and checking in and it ended up going on for another 10 years until you were just people who used to know one another, people who’d missed out on something. It was then you realized you weren’t wearing shoes.
“Shit,” you whispered.
“I wanted you that night. I wanted you more than I had ever wanted anyone, including anyone in the rotation. Do you know what I was doing while you were on your date?”
“Getting your dick wet. I know.”
“I was lying on Julissa’s bed as she gave me head.”
You scoffed, “Of course you were.”
“She’d been going for 40 minutes and still I was barely hard. No matter what she did, no matter the tricks, no matter how nice it felt, barely hard. I was lying on her bed with my dick in her mouth thinking about you on your fucking date.”
You looked at him then. Those were words you hadn’t expected.
“My mind went crazy thinking what was happening. The longer that went by without you texting me the thoughts killed me. As soon as I got your message I left. No other thought, just you. I prayed to God that the date didn’t go well enough for you to let him upstairs. Then I saw what you were wearing, and I couldn’t believe I was jealous. I was jealous.”
“Why?”
Lewis looked at you then. “Because he got to see you like that. You’d dressed up for him, wanted to turn him on with that outfit. He’d spent the entire night with you. He’d had what I wanted.”
Well shit, you thought before walking back to the bar. Rather than making another drink, you took up a bottle of champagne and brought it to your lips.
“Do you know what it feels like to want someone so bad that it fucks with you and everything you do? To want someone more than you’ve wanted anything. To want someone in a way that is new to you, so new that it scares you. Do you know what it feels to have this crippling fear every time that someone is in your grasp, but not being able to resist the temptation, the desire to make them yours? Do you know what it feels like to know that you only burn this bright, this hot, this dangerous with one person, and the burn is all-consuming?”
He looked almost hysterical now. “Do you know what it feels like to want the perfect someone for you? I’m talking molded for you in every way while knowing it’s not the right time for you because you both want too much from the world and because you know that because you burn so hot, so bright that you’ll burn each other if either of you ever let go and let it happen? To know you are so similar that you will either destroy each other or ruin one another for anyone else.”
The look on his face was so damn relatable. He’d just said everything you’d thought over the last 10 years. Everything.
“I know what he tells me and what he doesn’t tell me.”
He was practically ranting now. Spewing every single thing that he’d ever thought, confessing it all.
“So because of all that you try to keep up pretenses that you’re friends and nothing more though you have countless moments where you slip up and stare at them too long, or hold them in your arms from a hug for half a minute too long, or let your hand linger in theirs or around their waist to test boundaries because you just can’t not touch them, or even find reasons to do every single thing together. You take those 2 steps forward not realizing you do because the pull is too strong, then you freak out and leap back 5 steps. You do this for weeks, months, years until 10 of them have passed and you have this huge box you’d filled with all the other stuff between you that you can’t express or fess up to until that box just gets stirred by one action, one moment--one night.”
His eyes were locked on yours. Somehow he’d traveled across the room to the bar and was standing right in front of you. Somehow he’d locked you in the frame of his arms leaving you nowhere to run. Somehow he’d managed to inflate your chest with hope right beside your thundering heart.
“Then suddenly—everything has changed, and nothing can be the same ever again,” he finished, his voice a whisper in the completely silent room.
You watched his eyes lower to your lips and your gut flipped again.
“Do you know what any of that feels like, Y/N?”
There were only mere inches between you now and the sheer proximity of his body to yours made you shiver.
“H—how long—have you—felt this way?”
Your voice quivered in a way that made it obvious to him what his nearness was doing to you.
“10--fucking years,” Lewis replied eyes glued to yours.
He took one step to you, “I’ve spent the last 8 months cleaning my life, cleaning my circle because I’ve gotten to the point where I could no longer ignore that everyone else is number 2 for me. You’re number one, Y/N.”
You were frozen in place, unsure what to say, and even more unsure what to do. He was right, your truths usually did line up and this was no different.
“And I know it scares you, shit it scares me too. All of this does. I know my life is insane and yours is about to be even more so, I get you still have things you want to accomplish; I saw your face when Halsey mentioned adding your name to the plaque. You want it and I want it for you as well as the world for both of us. Our timing can’t be any worse, but something has got to give, love, because I can’t take another year let alone 10 of this.”
You took a deep, ragged breath.
“Where--,” Lewis began before stopping and chewing his top lip.
It was a nervous tick. “Where do I—stand—with you?”
For 10 years he’d been so hard to read, so nearly impossible to gauge, and here right now in the darkness of the room you could see him as clear as day. He was oh so transparent and scared you’d reject him. Scared you’d decide he was more trouble than he was worth. Scared he’d just showed you his heart and ruined your friendship in the process. Without realizing it you were crying; you felt a tear roll down your cheek.
Sniffling, you wiped it away, “Ehm, I broke up with Darius tonight.”
Lewis looked shocked. Clearly, he thought you were still together.
“Why?”
You wiped the other tear that fell from your eye then looked away from him. All of a sudden the room felt smaller than it was, it felt as if the walls were closing in on you. Lewis cupped the back of your head cradling your skull in his palm making you look him in the eyes.
“Why?”
“For the last 8 months, I’ve been hot and cold with him, I pulled him close one minute then the next pushed him away, I disappeared a lot always using work as the excuse. I was busy, yeah, but it wasn’t work. I was always so reluctant to put a label on what we were doing, every time he brought it up I changed the subject never giving him the answer he wanted. Even when we had sex--.”
Lewis took a deep breath, dropped his head, and harshly released it, clearly displeased with confirmation that he’d had you that way, but you continued.
“Even then it was usually always on my terms, and I always wanted him to leave right after. I was—I was always thinking about someone else, something else instead of him, and for 8 months I never felt anything remotely close to what I felt that night with him. over the months every time I saw you it hacked at whatever was going on between me and him until tonight seeing you again it just--.”
You flicked your five fingers indicating an explosion. I’ve become hypersensitive to you, and I don’t know when it happened. It dawned on me that—I was using Darius and it wasn’t fair.”
Lewis searched your eyes not hiding the hurt in his. You took a step towards him. “You’re right about a few things. Our timing couldn’t be any worse.”
He nodded.
“Our truths usually always line up.”
Lewis looked hopeful then.
“Your life is insane.”
The hope faltered.
“I do want my name on that plaque, and I will get it.”
A small smile crooked his lips.
Another tear rolled down your cheek and again you wiped it away, “I can also no longer ignore that everyone else is number 2 for me. Always has been because you’re my number one.”
He clenched his jaw then and the emotion that washed over his face rocked you. Like an earthquake rocking the Earth’s surface.
“I am scared.”
As this tear rolled, Lewis was the one to reach out and gently wipe it with the pad of his thumb. Your lip quivered.
“I’m so scared.”
Lewis pushed forward then, crashing his lips to yours in one swift move. Once your lips met neither of you went slow. The kiss was frenzied from the beginning, both of you wanting it all and not wanting to waste any more time taking it. As his tongue rolled with yours you closed the space between you pressing your body against him. Lewis softly moaned, wrapping his arms around you. When you bit down on his bottom lip he groaned then walked you backward until your back collided with the edge of the bar. Trapping you there once again, he kissed you without holding a thing back and your body responded to him instantaneously.
In a matter of seconds, you both were moaning against each other and completely wrapped up in the new feelings that were consuming you. Lewis cupped your face as he kissed you then ran his hands down to your neck. You couldn’t deny that this felt even better than you imagined. Moaning, you clutched his waist but when that didn’t suffice, you slowly slid your hands up along his toned abs, over his chest taking in the bulge of muscle there. When you wrapped them around his neck, Lewis pressed more persistently against you.
“Mmmm!”
Lewis tore his lips from you and put his forehead to yours. “Fuck, I don’t want to get too carried away. I’m sorry I should have asked first.”
“Consent fucking given,” you said before you crashed your lips to his.
This time you took control. Swirling your tongue with his you didn’t give him time to react or gain the upper hand. You wanted to taste him, and you refused to wait any longer. Teasing his lips, you nibbled his bottom one, taking your time to sensually suck on it until he moaned against you. The vibration shot through you making you feel like you’d only now just begun to truly feel. Lewis’ hands roughly gripped your hips, holding you steady so you could feel that you weren’t the only one finally feeling for the first time.
Heightening both if your pleasure, you sucked his tongue until he groaned. The next thing you knew Lewis’ had you by the hips lifting you onto the bar top. You wrapped your thighs around him and nearly came when you felt his hands pry your legs apart. The heat radiating off of his hand on your bare thigh reminded you of the night in his car and you prayed he didn’t stop again.
As if reading your mind, Lewis met your eyes while he slid his hand higher and higher and higher until his fingers crawled to your inner thigh. Softly he raked his manicured nails against your skin forcing a whimper from you. You bit down on your bottom lip and silently willed yourself not to cum from the anticipation. Suddenly the back of Lewis’ fingers brushed against your sex. Your gasp was loud, breathy, and stretched out as he took his time moving centimeter by centimeter until he’d trapped your clit between his pointer and middle finger. Your jaw dropped all the while he held your gaze.
When he tightened his fingers and rubbed against you, your eyes rolled to the back of your head. You knew then he was dangerous, and you were going to cum.
“F—ha—fu-huck!”
Your back arched, head fell back as your body moved like it were possessed. Each spasm of pleasure had you bucking against his fingers until you could hardly breathe.
“My god you’re so fucking beautiful when you cum, love.”
You giggled and moaned as the tremors worked their way through you. “Mmm, orgasms and compliments, a girl could get used to this,” you cooed.
“Good. This is your future.”
Lewis moved his hand, brought them to your thighs then lifted them. As he planted your heels at the edge of the bar, you knew what he wanted. Your eyes dropped to his lips then you moaned. Pulling your dress away from your legs you allowed them to fall back to the bar showing him not only gymnasts were flexible.
“Oh fuck,” Lewis groaned.
You watched his eyes drop to your sex and the look on his face was unlike any you’d ever seen. No one had looked at you like this before. He stared where your thighs met like it was the most mesmerizing thing he’d ever seen, the first of its kind and something he wanted to completely destroy. You now felt like prey spread before him like this, like at any moment he was going to pounce on you.
“Mmm.”
Lewis came closer and closer until he rested on his elbows and was just inches from your sex. The anticipation was killing, and he had to know it.
“I knew you were a lacy knickers kind of woman,” he muttered.
“I take it you’re a lacy knickers kind of man.”
“On you, fuck yes.”
With that, Lewis hooked his thumbs in your underwear and pulled them to the side. He blew out a breath in reaction to seeing you bare for the first time and that breath fucked you up all over again. You threw your head back trying to calm your anxieties, but just when you met his eyes again you found his tongue out sliding against your wet folds.
Oh—my—goooood!”
Lewis moaned and did it again and again until he circled your clit with the tip of his tongue. “Mmmm.”
Lewis pressed your thighs back keeping them spread then went to town. If you’d ever doubted before that his mouth game was incredible you didn’t now. He licked, flicked, and sucked along your flesh making your back remain in a prolonged arch. Within seconds you were whining and writhing as his tongue worked literal fucking magic. The sound of Lewis’ slurping echoed in the living room and that was when your hands grabbed his head. Pulling his hair free you held on and bucked against his mouth.
“Mmm.”
He stuck his tongue out and let you take over. With every buck against his tongue, you called his name and the more the tip of his tongue flicked your clit the more out of control you felt. Your release was so close your body moved more wildly needing it at all costs.
“I’m gonna cum Lewis.”
“Cum for me, Y/N!”
You didn’t need to be told more than once and when you were right on the precipice you felt Lewis slid two digits inside of you. Just like that, your orgasm morphed from a toe-curling release to soul snatching one. You screeched as your body convulsed but he didn’t stop then, he pumped his fingers in and out of you then added a third finger stretching you wide.
“Uuuugh fuck!”
You barely finished your words before Lewis threw you over his shoulder, keeping his fingers inside of you. As he walked through the suite his fingers kept fucking you, readying you for him. When your back met the soft sheets of the mattress, Lewis still hadn’t broken contact. He watched you now as you lay there unable to control your body.
“You’re so beautiful.”
Pulling his fingers free he cleaned two of them off before you sprang to your knees to claim the third. As you sucked his finger you kept your eyes on his. You could see how badly he wanted you, how much he wanted from you, and you couldn’t believe he’d held back all this time. You took your time sliding each button through its slot until his shit was wide open. When you pushed it off of him you took in a sight you’d seen plenty of times only now it was different.
You brought your hands to feel across his torso marveling at each defined ab muscle and each tattoo. When you intentionally rubbed against his beaded nipple you noted the way his Adam’s apple bobbed. How had you never noticed your effect on him? How had you never taken it seriously? Bringing your hands back to his waist you undid his pants. You brushed your palm against the protruding mass straining against his pants which made him shiver as he grunted.
“Oops.”
Lewis scoffed then licked his lips and that was all it took for him to claim back some of the control you possessed over this exchange.
“Of course, you’re a fucking tease.”
You innocently smiled. “I haven’t even begun to tease you.”
“I bet.”
Lewis snuck forward kissing you one peck at a time, over and over.
“Mm, can you take it?”
“Any other night my answer would be yes, hell in an hour my answer will be yes but right now--.”
He cupped your sex with on hand and the back of your neck with the other.
“Mmm.”
“Right now, I have no control left. I’ve remained in control around you for 10 years and right now I just want to let it all go. I want to bury myself so deep inside of you there is no mistake that we belong to each other bad timing or not. It’s you and me, Y/N.”
You groaned as his words only increased the wetness between your legs. You kissed him again, then you turned your back to him and swayed your body against him. Lewis dropped a kiss to your shoulder as his hand crept around to cup the underside of your breast. You leaned forward getting on all fours with your ass poking out to him.
“Undo me?”
He didn’t move for a few moments, and you waited for him to enjoy the view. When you felt his hand rub against your ass you dipped your back lower which only made your ass poke out more. Lewis trailed his hand along your spine that the backless gown proudly showed off. Then he went to your tailbone and lowered the zipper of the dress. Peeping over your shoulder, your eyes locked as you allowed the dress to fall away from your body.
His groan was low—primal. It was all you needed to hear to know he liked the strappy number you wore that was made of fine lace. You expected him to take his time but instead, you felt him peel off the garment leaving you completely naked before him for the first time ever.
“You’re so wet for me, Y/N. So wet and so fucking perfect.”
You spread your legs further then stretched your arms over your head using your head to hold you up. As expected, Lewis flipped you onto your back making you giggle. You roamed your hands over your body, cupping your breasts then sliding them down your abdomen to your dripping core. The entire time, Lewis kept his eyes on every move you made while he pulled his pants and underwear off.
When he stood bare before you, your surprise could not be masked. You didn’t know what you’d expected in your late-night thoughts about what he was packing but you had no way of expecting this. Lewis gripped his length then slowly stroked it as he pressed a knee onto the mattress.
“Scared?”
You bit your bottom lip as you gawked at what the good lord blessed him with. It was unfair and completely intimidating.
“Now I see why everyone in the rotation was so happy being one of many.”
He snorted, bringing his other knee to the mattress between. Slowly he stalked closer like a predator with a deadly weapon in hand.
“There is no rotation anymore.”
“Oh yeah. The LH44 Harem has been disbanded?”
As he crept closer, you slid backward.
“You’re not funny.”
“So am I the first to usher in a new era—a new harem?”
Lewis grabbed your ankle then pulled you back to him making the backs of your thighs slam into the fronts of his. He then hovered over you before dropping an opened mouth kiss on your nipple. Sucking the peak into his mouth he sucked raising your back off of the bed.
“You’re in no harem. I told you, it’s you—and me,” he said nibbling your flesh.
Stared at him letting it all sink in. You brought your hand to his bearded cheek and rested it there.
“Are we really doing this? Like—for real?”
Lewis boxed your face in with his muscular arms and stared into your eyes. “I’ve told you where I stand, Y/N. I’ve told you everything that’s in here.”
He took your hand and placed it over the roaring lion etched on his skin keeping his hand over yours.
“It’s time you tell me what’s in here,” he finished placing his other hand over your left breast.
“You,” you whispered.
“I love you, Y/N.”
Before you could react or even respond Lewis thrust forward sending the tip of his hardness inside of you, stealing your breath, and every thought. A breathy gasp filled the air. Slowly he pushed forward, leisurely filling you giving you time to adjust to his size.
“Haaaa.”
Lewis kept his hand over your heart while holding yours over his as he filled you inch by tortuous inch never taking his eyes off yours. Your entire being was on fire like he was pouring molten lava inside of you with every inch he gave you.  
“Oh fu—Lewis,” you panted.
From the way his jaw was clenched, and eyes focused intently on you, you could tell he was feeling everything you were.
“How are you so tight?”
Digging your nails into his chest you tightened your leg around his waist and as if that was his last straw, Lewis flicked his hips forward filling you completely and tearing a scream from both of your lips. Neither of you moved for several moments but with every second that passed by your body blazed. Bucking against him, you slid your hand up to his throat and then gripped it.
“I love you. Fuck me. Now!”
Those words would be your ruin because he did just that without mercy and complete recklessness. Your moans and whimpers melded together rising in decibel and power until the entire room shook with the power of your screams for one another. As he plowed inside of you he didn’t go slow, he followed his basal instincts that were imprinted in his DNA, a need to claim, and dominate.
You’d never felt so out of control in your life. No matter how he fucked you, you couldn’t get enough. No matter how deep he went you wanted him deeper. No matter how he called your name you wanted him to scream it. You wanted every fucking thing he had. You wanted to leave him in shambles. When he flipped you onto your stomach like you weighed nothing, he held your ass in the air and fucked you so thoroughly you’d lost track of how many times you came. It didn’t matter because you wanted more.
He must have been able to read your mind because there was no way he could tell what you needed this soon, you thought to yourself as he grabbed your wrists and pulled you back, so he had your upper body hovering above the mattress.
“Oh my god, I’m cumming Lewis! Ooh shiiiiiit!”
He took advantage of this new angle and circled his hips as he jackhammered into you, fucking you as you did something you’d never done before—squirted. You screamed from the force of your release, but Lewis didn’t stop, he fucked you through it then torpedoed you into another one that you knew would tear you apart. Racing for it, you slammed yourself back into him relishing the mix of pain and pleasure that only intensified when Lewis bit down on your shoulder.
“You got one more for me, darlin? Cum for me. Soak this dick, pretty girl, drench me so I can fill that pretty pussy up.”
“Aaah!”
You clenched around him as you lost yourself and fell off the cliff and into an endless pit of pleasure. You felt Lewis spasm inside of you before he cursed and shouted his release doing just what he promised. Filling your pretty pussy up.
When the two of you finally collapsed on the bed Lewis held you to him spooning you while still being nestled inside of you. Bit by bit you came back to your body and slowly your body went from violent shakes to subtle tremors and a hazy feeling washed over you. Lewis peppered kisses along your neck and shoulder nipping your skin every now and then.
“Mmm. Oh my god!”
He snorted. “You good?”
“Good? Am I good? Are you—at the risk of swelling your head even more than it already is that was--.”
“Was?”
You searched for the words but couldn’t find the right ones. “It was,” you settled on making him laugh as he held you tighter.
“Naw, I was alright, you—you were,” he said making you snort.
“Shut up.”
“No, I’m being for real for real. It’s a miracle I held on that long, you feel unbelievable, so good, too good. You—are!”
You giggled then moaned, sleepiness creeping up on you.
“Don’t you dare fall asleep, I’m nowhere near done with you.”
His manhood inside of you lurched nudging your g-spot and just like that your eyes snapped wide open.
“Watch yourself, I know your weakness now.”
“You?”
“Nope, this pussy.”
Lewis snorted then flipped you onto your stomach again. This time he straddled you as he slowly pulled out of you only to plunge right back in.
“Mmm.”
“Still so damn tight,” Lewis groaned.
“You’re welcome to try stretching me out.”
Lewis jerked his hips forward delivering a bruising thrust as punishment for your your sassy mouth. It was a thrust that took your breath and made you go cross-eyed.
“Mmm, yes!”
“Oh, aren’t you full of surprises. Pretty girl likes it rough and hard.”
He did it again and again, making you hit the bed each time as you buried your face in the sheet to muffle your screams.
“God yes, Lewis!”
“So fucking alike,” Lewis said before lowering his lips to your ear. “Remember I love you 'cause I’m about to fuck you like I don’t.”
Not waiting for a reply he held your arms to the bed then delivered on his promise. Everyone else was number 2 compared to you being each other’s number 1. Nothing else mattered.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
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mcflymemes · 7 months ago
Text
AS SAID BY GARRUS VAKARIAN, updated version  *  assorted dialogue from the mass effect trilogy, adjust as necessary
i can't find any hard evidence.
good luck, [name]. maybe they'll listen to you.
i'm coming with you.
sometimes it feels like the rules are only there to stop me from doing my work.
i just couldn't take it anymore.
maybe i can get the job done my way for a change.
if you're wrong, we'll pay for it. but if you're right, and we did nothing, i think we'd regret it a whole lot more.
i thought you were dead.
it sure is good to see a friendly face.
at least it's not hard to find criminals here. all i have to do is point my gun and shoot.
my feelings got in the way of my better judgement.
i'll make you a deal. you get me out of here alive, and i'll tell you the whole damn thing.
nobody would give me a mirror. how bad is it?
don't make me laugh, damn it.
some women find facial scars attractive.
i'm fit for duty whenever you need me.
when i got to the meeting point, no one was there.
kill you? no. but i don't mind slowing you down a little.
what do you want from me, [name]?
i know you want to talk about this... but i don't. not yet.
it's so much easier to see the world in black and white. gray... i don't know what to do with gray.
my instincts are what got me into this mess.
never knew you had a weakness for men with scars.
well, why the hell not? there's nobody in this galaxy i respect more than you.
if we can figure out a way to make it work, then... yeah. definitely.
you're about the only friend i've got left in this screwed-up galaxy.
you don't ever have to worry about making me uncomfortable. nervous, yes... but never uncomfortable.
i brought wine.
your hair looks... good. and your waist is... very supportive.
hopefully that's not offensive in human culture.
i want something to go right. just once.
think you can win this thing, [name]?
i'm pretty sure we'll still need giant guns... and lots of them.
so... is this the part where we shake hands?
the scars are starting to fade. i remember they drove you wild.
i've been doing some more research on human customs.
glad to know my romantic skills made an impression.
let's not go there.
i can afford the good stuff.
what about you? i'm starting to see some wear and tear.
don't forget to come up for air. and not just because all these people need you. because i need you.
if you're suggesting i'm scared... game on.
still trying to make me blush, huh?
i'd be lying if i said i didn't hope it would inspire a certain... mood.
it seemed like you needed time to... figure us out.
the worst part about the galaxy going to hell would've been never getting to see you again.
not saying you don't know how to handle a gun. just saying some of us know how to make it dance.
i've actually seen you dance. no comment.
i know there are other things you're good at.
probably not a lot of air in here. an hour if we're lucky.
so tell me. think a girl would fall for that?
it gets even better when you try it in bed.
you don't lack for places to get lost.
did we break anything last night?
you'll find a way to win. and when this is over, i'll be waiting for you.
if this thing goes sideways and we both end up there... meet me at the bar. i'm buying.
forgive the insubordination, but your boyfriend has an order for you.
come back alive. it'd be an awfully empty galaxy without you.
we're in this 'til the end.
we didn’t kill these people. and we’re going to shut down the bastards who did.
looks like we’ve got a siege on our hand.
if anyone needs fresh clips or a bathroom break, now’s the time.
oh crap!
guess he didn’t like the food.
looks like we got the jump.
pretty extreme, but those were desperate times.
we won’t get a second chance.
that was me, sorry.
nothing like being stranded.
we’ll do more than that.
just the usual minor flesh wound.
what would these people have done if we hadn’t shown up?
i was there when you two had your thing, remember? just get a room and work it out.
stay angry. we’ll need it to get through this.
drinks will be on me.
one of my favorite places to fight!
i’m hard to kill. you should know that.
it’s gonna be bad all over.
for whatever it’s worth, i’m with you.
you’ve waited long enough for this day.
just wait ‘til this war is over.
you came along and warmed my heart with your winning personality.
maybe you’d like to go work for them instead?
how do i not have one of those?
surprise on our side for once. i like it.
brutal, but it makes a certain kind of sense.
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4ngelx-x · 2 months ago
Text
Early Morning Call.
⇾ This chapter mentions sex, drug use, fights and alcohol. If you are sensitive to this type of content, please skip.
Guys, forgive my level of English, it's not my first language.
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Late at night.
I don't usually wake up in the middle of the night. I'm always too tired since I broke up with her, I never have time to rest, I try to keep busy all the time.
I spend the day photographing, if not rehearsing, and when I'm not doing any of that, I go traveling. There was no time for thoughts like that. But tonight was different.
Lisa's call💗
I woke up late at night to my cell phone vibrating under my pillow. I checked the name again and saw that it was hers. The same name as when she gave me her number. I don't have the heart to change it.
I scratch my eyes to make sure it was that name, and I'm sure when it shows up as a missed call and the call comes through again.
— Please Y/N — I had just accepted the call and she didn't give me time to answer it, speaking in a tearful voice — Don't hang up.
— I'm not going, is everything all right, Lisa?
— Please Y/N - I hear her agonized voice — I need you so much, I can't do it without you.
— Elisa, are you drunk? — I ask worriedly.
— I miss your hugs, I miss the way you boss me around, I miss the way we used to be together, I miss your kisses, your mouth - she whispers into the phone — I miss you.
Her voice comes out slurred, as if she's speaking without thinking.
I remember what it was like when she drank, she let loose, danced the way she wanted, acted the way she wanted and also said what she wanted. I remember when we'd go out and she'd pull me up to dance in front of everyone, even when there was no one there, when she'd spin me around until we were dizzy.
— I need you, Y/N. I need you as much as I need water to survive — I hear her sigh on the other end of the line — I swear I've tried to move on, I've tried meeting other people, having sex, kissing, but I can't stop thinking about you.
You had sex with other people?
— I did everything you asked me to do, but I failed. I'm sorry, please forgive me — I'm startled when I hear her cry — I need you, Y/N.
I used to love stroking her hair, I remember when we sat on the bed on our day off and did nothing all day, we'd just sit there on our cell phones, watching a movie, chatting away, having sex all the time, drinking wine. But that all went down the drain.
— Remember when you told me you didn't want to see my face anymore? You told me that I should get on with my life, meet other people and forget about you — he says in a slurred voice — I couldn't, the girls tried to cheer me up, Sakina took me to parties, Jean-François introduced me to friends and no one could get you out of my head.
They were all my friends, we went out together, we went out as a couple. They said we were the most beautiful couple of all. It seems that now they no longer have that opinion.
— I miss how you made me feel, when you touched me, how you caressed me, how you sucked me — she whispers the last part.
We'd have sex anywhere, we'd already tried out every room and piece of furniture in her new house. We had sex whenever we could. We had sex all the time.
— I can't bear to be without you, I can't bear to be without your affection, I can't bear to be without your hugs? — She says with a slurred voice - Remember that time I went a few games without winning and I was frustrated and we had sex 10 minutes before I went on the pitch and we won with a goal of my own?
I laugh mentally at the memory.
— We called it the lucky fuck, because the team went the rest of the season without losing — I hear a muffled laugh — That day I dedicated my goal to you, but you don't know that when I scored that goal I was remembering you cumming in my mouth.
I get up from the bed, trying to get rid of the sensation she had made between my legs. She always did that to me, talking dirty to me everywhere, teasing me and making me horny. When that time we were at a super-acclaimed awards ceremony and she was in the middle of the red carpet, in front of all the cameras and photographers, telling me she wanted to suck me off in front of all those people, so everyone could see how beautiful I am moaning, that had finished me off, me always standing cross-legged trying to relieve the tension she was causing me. Just like now, crossing my legs trying to get rid of that feeling.
— I wanted to taste you again, how good you make me feel and how good it is to hear you moaning in my ear, begging me not to stop — I hear a moan from her.
Was she realizing how long she'd been on the phone?
— Tell me you don't miss it too — The voice comes out like a breath — Tell me you don't miss how I made you feel, how I could make you come in two minutes anywhere…
I drink the glass of water on the bedside table, wetting my throat, which has gone dry.
— Talk to me Y/N - That voice again - I need to hear your voice…
— You're just drunk Elisa, go take a cold shower and go to sleep — I mean it.
— I love it when you take care of me, even though I don't deserve it. — She speaks with a tearful voice again.
When you saw Y/N, you saw Elisa. Because where one went somewhere, the other followed. There's no Elisa without Y/N and there's no Y/N without Elisa. Until that day, that damn day.
— Please Elisa, don't call me again, not like that…
— What way - she replies quickly.
— Drunk - I say worried - Why are you drunk? Again. You're out drinking almost every day, this isn't good for you, if you want to destroy your life, do it away from me, take me away from your close friends, I don't want to see you like this.
Drinking, lots of drinking and drugs. Almost every night. I avoided looking, but Instagram always reminded me.
— I want to smell you again, I want to feel you. Please, let's talk properly?
We never talked, it was never just talk, because it always ended in sex, that's how we always got back together. But I promised myself I wouldn't fall for it again.
I hear the sound of a bottle in the background, as if it had fallen from somewhere.
— Did you know that every night I read that verse from that book you gave me two months ago that's next to our photo? The girls hate that photo, but I like it, we'd just woken up after having sex all night, I like it because I like the way your hair looks when you wake up, and how sincere your smile is in the morning.
That night we'd had a fight, but the fight was no longer about hot kisses and silly hands, we had sex everywhere, even I accidentally broke a glass when she threw me over the sink. We were so drunk that we spent more than 10 minutes laughing. It was the night I had the most fun in my entire life
— We're so good together, why do you want to leave? You're the love of my life, I can't let you go like this without fighting for you - I say between sobs.
— I love you, Lisa, but it's best if we stay apart. Until you get better - I said, wanting to cry
I had never stopped loving her. I'd broken up with her for the best, but she seemed to have got worse.
I remember it like it was yesterday, I'd just come back from a work trip, I hadn't told Elisa I'd be home early. When I opened the living room door, I saw her with one of her friends, sniffing powder on the table. That image of her sniffing was stuck in my head. She was doing drugs on the living room table, as if that was a good thing to do.
We fought all night.
Fame had gone to her head after the World Cup, when everyone saw that she was really good. It must have been that night that started it, when all the girls asked her out and I decided to stay in the apartment and let her have fun on her own. When she came back, she came back strange, but I didn't notice, because she fucked me in every way she could. After that day, the fights started to be almost constant, but we always ended the same way, she spent her days apart and it all made sense when I saw her doing it.
— WHAT THE FUCK! - I laugh, denying what I'd just seen.
She gets up startled and her friend gets up too.
— Ma chatter, let me explain - She tries to get close to me.
— Don't touch me, Elisa! - I shout in disgust at what she's just done.
I walk from the living room to the bedroom as quickly as possible, carrying my suitcase so that I could put more clothes in it. I was going to leave this house.
— Please, mon amour, don't do this. I can explain, I swear.” She speaks with a strong accent, due to her nervousness
She tried to stop me putting the clothes in the suitcase, but I intervened.
— I don't want an explanation Elisa, I saw what I saw, it doesn't need an explanation - I say, trying to get her hands off my clothes.
I closed the suitcase with difficulty and pulled it out, as it had become very heavy.
— Please, mon amour, let me show you that I can do better, but don't leave me, please - she tries to stop me.
I slap her with all my strength.
— Don't ever try to do that again, don't touch me and don't try to stop me from leaving — I say, looking her in the face — You're destroying your life and now you've destroyed our relationship… You, more than anyone, know everything that happened to me, and you want this nightmare to come back?
Her eyes fill with tears, but she keeps trying to get in front of me.
— Please don't leave — she tries again to get in front of me.
— It's over Elisa, I don't want to look you in the face anymore — She's startled by the word “over” — Don't call me anymore, don't text me, don't do anything related to me, until you get better and regret it.
— Ma chatter, please don't do this to me — She was red, trying to hold back the tears.
I couldn't look at her like that, but after what I saw, I can't look at her anymore. I wouldn't go through that again. I'd seen my family destroyed by it once and it seems to have destroyed it again.
— Get on with your life Elisa, try to get on with your life, find other people, meet new people and forget about me — I try not to cry in front of her.
I pull my suitcase out of the apartment and don't look back, lest I regret it.
We spent the night arguing over phone calls, her asking me to come back to talk and me wandering aimlessly around the city with a huge suitcase in my hands. She was on drugs, saying nonsensical things…
— Are you still there? — I hear her voice on the other end of the line — I can hear you breathing, is everything all right?
She knew me so well. I feel angry about that.
— Let's talk, please, I've gotten better, I swear to you — She says — Do you know what day it is?
I spend every day very busy, working from Sunday to Sunday, I don't have time to look at the calendar, let alone the clock.
— Today was supposed to be our two-year anniversary — she laughs disappointedly — That's why I couldn't bear it. I can't do without you. You're my life, Y/N, give me a chance to show that I've improved.
I look at the clock on my dressing table. 3am. She's drunk, she has a match tomorrow and she hasn't even rested.
— Elisa, please, go take a shower and go to sleep — I say, trying not to cry — Just do it, please.
— I swear I post that, but I don't do anything. I've gotten better. I don't do any more of that — She sighs and gives up — I love you Y/N, bye. I hope you'll watch the match, I swear I'm fine, I just called to remind you that you're the love of my life.
I love you, Elisa. I love you so much that it hurts and I can't heal it…
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