#give bride a drink
Explore tagged Tumblr posts
Text

#Bachelorette party#Wedding invitations#partyinvitations#electronicbachelorette#digital bachelorette#give bride a drink#last wild night#videoinvitation
0 notes
Text
the locket, motherhood, & marriage.
139 / 139 / 136 / 136 / 191 / 191 / 191 / 142 / 134 / 143 / 143 / 144 / 144 / 139 script / 144 / 280 / 144 / 144 / 192 / 279 / 279 / 279 / 279 / 143
#compilation tag#➤ victoria winters. ┊ because she’s lost and lonely. because she looks in shadows.#➤ roger collins. ┊ I and my ghosts want a drink.#➤ re: david collins. ┊ he's just been afflicted with the family disease. he's been seeing ghosts.#➤ josette dupres. ┊ it was a scent,not just any,it was hers: jasmine,seabreeze mixed.#➤ re: laura murdoch collins. ┊ I want to watch a girl on fire with ruin on her lips. I want to see everything burn.#➤ elizabeth collins stoddard. ┊ I belong to the house. the house belongs to me.#➤ re: carolyn stoddard. ┊ never the same girl twice.#GOD OKAY. the fact that burke gives vicki the locket after laura's death is EVERYTHING to me.#burke — twin to jeremiah both physically and psychologically — giving it to vicki —#the stranger brought inside the collins family; much like josette.#(which. according to much much later dialogue laura *was* jeremiah's first wife before josette.#it's an old song. it's an old tale from way back when. and we're gonna sing it again and again and again.)#that vicki; by saving david's life; is preserving the collins line — providing the heir (literally; though not biologically)#david turns away from laura and chooses vicki; replacing laura as mother-figure permanently;#as he's granted new life after the fire; born again into vicki's arms; not laura's.#the new woman in the collins fold — after the previous wife has been defeated and fire has cleansed the memory (à la jane eyre; or rebecca)#positioning her naturally as roger's wife. the mother of his child. the inheritor of the collins bridal locket.#the locket that distinctly belongs to roger's wedding *night* — tied up fundamentally with sex & childbirth & the provision of heirs.#(fitting then that the madonna and child serves as the vicki-as-mother equivalent to the painting of laura: the virginal birth)#and yet! simultaneously! the cri du sang — david's blood calling out to burke's.#roger notably absent during the fire; unaware of david's danger; unable to help him. burke drawn to him when his life is at risk —#and the one who carries him home; over the threshold; at vicki's side. delivers her the locket from the ash.#of course she is drawn to him — david's symbolic mother; his biological father —#jeremiah & josette; the empire-builder and the lost and lonely bride.#and. the vampire-figure; the parasitic lover. meeting her at the cliffs; joking about her falling from them —#who can give josette belonging by bringing her to the family tomb.
11 notes
·
View notes
Text


Oh, to have what they have,,,
#✮┆ ( .ooc. );#//Yknow that one Lovely bride and her ugly ass husband meme#//Thats them nfnfn#//Tho Rook is deffo a cutie more than. anything jdbdb#//I can’t even begin to imagine what it must be like for new Pomefiore students ndbd#//Or just new students in general#//To see the most breathtakingly beautiful man they’ve ever seen in their little spudling lives#//Giving such blatant favoritism and free passes to his lil freak of a man 24/7 jdhdbd#//The Rook is Ungovernable. the Rook HAS no limits—EXCEPT what his Queen allows jdbdn#//Honestly the shit Rook can get away with through sheer ballsiness alone is astounding; I’m surprised he hasn’t been Smote yet bdbdb#//Either by Vil himself or folks like Mal and Leo ndndn#//Also hi#//Never drink on an empty stomach; peace and godblessss
0 notes
Text
The Dragon Prince, in need of a mate
Dragon Prince x Fem!Reader
summary: After a desperate search for his mate, the dragon prince leaves the celestial realm to drink away his sorrows, only to find the person he was looking for in a commoner. You.
warning: breeding, mating, lots of cum, scenting, he fucks you in his dragon form
WK: 10k words
The sounds of heavy footsteps echoed down the palace halls, a growl leaving the throat of the celestial dragon prince.
It was tiring, looking for a bride every day. Not a single woman had been the right one for him… how would he ever be king without a mate?
It made him both angry and strangely… lonely at times. Everywhere he turned there seemed to be a happy couple. Noblemen and women lounged together, being fed grapes or massaged. Even when his eyes glanced towards the common folk, he would spot lovers holding hands or sharing a secretive kiss while serving the palace.
It was enough to drive a dragon to drink.
So while everyone celebrated in the palace after another boring day, the prince transformed into a more suitable appearance, taking on the form of a beautiful nobleman.
He assumed it would be enough to stay under the radar, unaware that his beauty and elegance would draw the attention of every maiden at the bar.
Leaving the celestial realm to dine among humans wasn’t exactly forbidden, but it was looked down upon for higher beings such as himself to dine amongst the common folk, hence the disguise.
Though, with his antler-like horns and claws, there was no doubt he was a being from the celestial realm.
As he walked through a quaint town, people stopped to stare, often with mouths agape.
He didn’t notice, eyes transfixed on the ground. All he could think of at the moment was finding something to drink his sorrows away.
In the distance, he saw the glow of warm lighting coming from a small tavern.
‘Perfect. Seems like a place the common folk gather. I should fit in well enough.’
Though he thought this, the second he walked in the bustling tavern grew quiet, all eyes on him. This wasn’t picked up by the prince, and he continued towards an empty table.
After getting comfortable, his mind began to wander. Life at the palace had been… stressful as of late.
He was used to the rumors, even used to people fearing and avoiding him. But what was unusual was his own insecurity in his heart.
Why hadn’t he found a mate yet? Part of him wandered if there was something inherently wrong with him. Although he hadn’t made much time to truly search out his soulmate, it shouldn’t have been so hard.
He was a prince… yet when he looked at the scars on his body that wouldn’t heal, he felt like a failure.
Weak.
As he sulked, he didn’t even notice that a glass of wine had been placed in front of him. What made his head snap up was the sound of a soft voice.
“Are you alright?”
He looked up, eyes wide as your smell hit his nose. That scent, the way it made his body react…
The woman before him was plump, your eyes giving him a soft and concerned look as you held the empty serving tray to your… ample chest.
It took him a moment to register your words. You glanced at him and then back at the bar, a nervous smile on you face.
You had never interacted with such a handsome man that was clearly of a higher class than yourself. Was it disrespectful to speak out of turn?
Your heart was kind and gentle, so you couldn’t help but speak up when he looked so down.
Once your words fully registered in his mind, he cleared his throat. This was all too much. For several months, nearly a year he had been halfheartedly searching for his mate, and here you were, in a random bar in the human realm.
His eyes moved from your face and down your body, taking in your features. Again, you were plump, with heavy looking breasts, a soft belly, and the outline of thick thighs and hips he could see through your dress.
A perfect mate.
The prince finally looked up, studying your face. Chubby cheeks, a soft smile, pretty eyes…
He had never put much thought into what his mate would look like, but now that he had seen you, he knew that this is all he could ever want.
“I’m alright… another glass, please.”
As you walked away with a flushed face, he downed his glass quickly to try and calm his racing heart. Gods, just the scent of you was enough to have him struggling to control himself.
“Here you are…”
You placed another glass in front of him, smiling shyly as he took it. He was handsome, regal and nearly lit up the room with his beauty. Everyone could tell he was not of this world, and you felt beyond honored to be the one who got to serve such a special man.
But in his mind his thoughts were far from graceful. His eyes didn’t leave your figure, continuing to glance at your hips and soft belly. Both features were absolutely perfect for breeding purposes…
“My dear, what is your name?”
You blinked, taking a moment to process his question. In all honesty you had been completely distracted by his beauty that you zoned out. This was so embarrassing, your cheeks heating up as you struggled to answer.
“M-my name? Oh it’s (Name)!” you babbled out, covering your mouth afterwards. Oh no, you probably sounded way too eager!
He just smirked, taking your hand and placing a kiss on the back of it. “(Name)? That’s lovely… (Name).”
Your name being said by such a handsome man had your body feeling hot. This man was looking up at you with an air of confidence that had you flustered, your eyes unable to look into his.
Was it disrespectful to not answer? He was most likely a noble…
“Th… thank you, sir. It’s just a common name, I’d say.”
He reached out and cupped your cheek, his large palm warm against your face. “Perhaps, but it’s a name I will never forget.”
Your cheeks flushed at this, and you looked up at him through your eyelashes. That alone was enough to have his pants tighten.
The two of you exchanged longing glances throughout the night, and when your shift was ending, he stopped you before you could leave.
The dragon prince stood, his full height dwarfing you completely. “Come. Let us find somewhere quiet.”
Though you had always been warned by the tavern owner to never follow a guest outside, you were transfixed by his confident smile and intelligent eyes.
As he led you outside, his form seemed to almost… shift slightly. Though he still appeared mostly human, his horns grew longer and teeth sharper.
The moon shone down on them, their breaths coming out in white puffs. It was cold enough for you to shiver, but soon you were warmed by his embrace.
“It’s quite chilly at this time of night, is it not? Stay by my side.”
He led you through the night, the only light that of the shining moon. When it was covered by clouds, he still had no issue guiding you around uneven terrain and the occasional tree root.
It was then you realized there was no way he was human. You had your suspicions before, but it wasn’t uncommon for some human mages to take on animal features to help them with their magic endeavors.
This man, however, was no mage or lowly magical creature. You could tell by the way the moonlight enveloped his body, making him glow in the dark of night.
“What are your plans for me?”
Your voice was shaky, but you felt no fear. The trembling came from a sense of excitement and lust.
And he could smell how wet you were.
He didn’t answer immediately, instead lifting you over a puddle of water and setting you down on the other side.
The dragon prince paused after this, cupping your cheek as he took in your curious expression.
“I will take you on as a mate. From the moment I saw you, it was clear you were the one I have been looking for.”
He cleared his throat before he continued.
“I am the current celestial dragon prince. You will love a life of luxury and never be without…”
It was hard for him to speak when he could smell your arousal growing thick in the air, his own scent mixing in. “… will you be mine?”
Your body felt so warm, you wanted so badly to say yes…
But it didn’t feel real. He was bound to you of all people? You were a lowly tavern barmaid, born into a life of poverty. Nothing about you was inherently special and it was hard to comprehend anyone as beautiful as him wanting to spend his eternal life with you.
“You… are joking, right? Did you drink too much?”
The words coming out of your mouth felt wrong. You could feel the sexual tension in the air, yet your mind wouldn’t listen to your body’s natural instincts.
“I do not joke about things as serious as this, my love. I am your mate, we are tied together by fate.”
He lifted your hand, kissing the back of it.
“How can I prove to you that I am serious?”
Before you could answer his form began to shift again, his hands becoming claws. It was getting even harder to hold back, and you were soon lifted into his arms.
“I can’t… hold back anymore… since I realized you were my mate, I’ve been dying to taste you.”
The world became blurry, your body growing hot and your head woozy as everything faded and shifted. Next thing you knew, the two of you were in an intricately decorated room.
You were set onto the softest bed you had ever felt, given no time to take in your surroundings.
He was already opening your thighs, sniffing at your clothed cunt. A groan left his lips, his long black hair tickling your sensitive thighs as he dipped his head between them.
“Gods, you smell delicious. Please… I must taste you.”
You swallowed when his nose rubbed against your inner thigh. The way he was looking up at you had your heart thumb ping rapidly in your chest.
“A-alright…”
Within seconds of your consent his claws ripped through your underwear and his face was buried between your thighs.
His tongue swirled around your clit, and all you could do was moan and hold onto his horns for support.
He grabbed hold of your hips, squeezing the soft fat and pulling you closer. Your pussy had already been drooling with need, and now you felt your arousal dripping down your thighs, his chin covered in your slick.
It was erotic, the sound of his grunts and groans filling the air with each lap of his tongue. You tasted divine, and he was losing himself in you.
Nothing else besides you mattered in this moment. All he could think of was how good it felt to have your thighs squeezing around his head. The moans you let out had his cock twitching incessantly, and he wouldn’t be able to hold back for much longer.
“Gods…”
He pulled back, looking at the wet mess your fat pussy had become. Your eyes were glazed over, your chest rising and falling as you struggled to catch your breath.
How many times have you orgasmed so far? You felt almost selfish, already wanting more from him after he just pleasured you.
“My sweet little mate, how do you feel now? My precious, you’re glowing.”
He almost purred when he leaned forward, breathing softly against your neck. You let out a content sigh, reaching up to play with his long black hair.
“Mmm… I’m feeling pretty tired, I’d say… I’ve been working since noon.”
He stiffened a bit at that, resting his chin on your head. The prince did not enjoy thinking about you working so hard. Even though he had only known you for a few hours, you were his mate.
“Well, my dove, do not worry your pretty little head anymore. You will work another day in your life. From now on, you will be pampered and taken care of… I guarantee it.”
Despite how his cock ached to be inside of you, he decided to wait until you were rested to properly mate with you. It would take more energy and leave you exhausted…
You fell asleep in his arms, feeling so warm and safe. How long had it been since you had been held? That last time you could remember was your childhood, when you were just a tiny thing.
He made you feel small, protected, and… so, so warm.
In the morning you awoke, stretching with a yawn as you sleepily stood to get ready for your job. It was strange, when you reached for your apron on your nightstand, you couldn’t find it.
That’s when you remembered the previous night.
Your face warmed immediately, and you barely held back an embarrassed squeal when you noticed the man groan tiredly, his face buried in your chest.
“Go back to sleep, love…”
It was too early in the morning for you to protest, and you haven't slept in since you were a child. It felt nice, getting to fall back asleep in his arms, his hair tickling your cheek.
You listened to his breathing, smiling sleepily. His sharp claws slowly ran through your hair, scratching gently at your scalp to lull you back into slumber.
The next time you woke up it was nearly noon. This was beyond embarrassing, even as a child you had only slept in this much when you were deathly ill. The prince still attempted to get you to stay in bed longer, but when you protested he huffed.
“Alright, alright… stubborn little thing, aren’t you?”
He snapped his fingers, servant girls appearing at your side immediately.
“Your highness,” they greeted, bowing before your bedmate. The prince waved a hand dismissively, rubbing his temple.
“Take my mate and get her a bath and some fresh clothes. Treat her well, she is your future empress after all.”
The servant girls bowed again, raising their hands. “Yes, at once.”
They led you away, and you could only look back pathetically as he lounged in bed, watching you go with a smirk. Your plump rear was certainly a nice sight, and your hips swayed deliciously while you were guided away.
He couldn’t wait to feel how warm your cunt was when he sank into you that night.
As you were led down the halls and into the bathhouse, you saw female royals and nobles alike being pampered by the servants. They were fed grapes, massaged, and even dressed.
You weren’t even sure if they had ever lifted a hand to take care of themselves your entire life. It left you feeling sour. Every day had been a struggle to even put food on the table, much less properly take care of yourself, and here these women were completely pampered to the point their skin glowed.
In all honesty you had never seen yourself as anything special, but before you at least thought you could marry someone with a bit of wealth and settle down peacefully.
After seeing the beauties of the castle, you were left feeling… insecure. How could you ever compete with these gorgeous women?
Without much warning you were stripped down to your birthday suit. The servants weren’t rough, but they weren’t exactly gentle either as they helped you into the bath and scrubbed at your skin.
“Filthy, and you slept in the same bed as the prince. Have you no shame, human?”
You flinched as their nails dug lightly into your scalp. It was painful, but you dared not to make a sound.
“And those rags you wore… just disrespectful, I’ll say.”
Unfortunately, you agreed wholeheartedly, and wondered why such an elegant and noble person such as him dared to even touch you. After all, you had the entire day’s sweat and dirt decorating your skin and clothes.
Unbeknownst to you, the fact that you had been sweaty and strongly scented played a big part in his list for you. A mate was meant to smell like themselves, and to him you smelled absolutely divine.
You looked away in shame as you were rinsed off. Although you felt rather uncomfortable, the floral scent of the soaps and the quality didn’t go unnoticed by you. Never before had you had access to such luxurious toiletries. It was rare for you to have scented soap, but this moisturized your skin and made you feel like a brand new person.
“Worry not, we are well aware of the prince’s mating bond with you. Be you royalty or common folk, we will ensure you will look the part of a princess.”
With that, you were quickly dried off and moved along towards a dressing room.
As you waited in a small room, being told to water yourself, you could hear voices speaking softly nearby.
“Truly, one could even feel sorry for a common girl marrying that insane prince.”
“Oh, dear heavens, do not let any of the celestial royalty hear such things.”
“But I am not wrong, am I? I worry he will simply dispose of her when he is done. Even the humans know that the celestial beings here can do with them as they please and no one will bat an eye.”
You stayed quiet, simply staying near the warm hearth as you continued to dry off slowly. Of course you had heard rumors of the infamous deities residing within the celestial realm.
None of those rumors were good.
Despite feeling a bit nervous, you shook off their words. Even if you were to be tossed aside, you wanted to spend at least one day feeling beautiful and… loved.
If what this was could even qualify as love.
He had called you his mate, did celestial beings mate for life? You were human, it was something hard for your mortal mind to comprehend.
A mate… like a soulmate perhaps? Did that mean he thought the two of you were destined for one another?
Could that mean that none of this was natural, that you were bound together without much choice?
What if he was desperate for a mate and didn’t truly love you?
These thoughts swirled around your head as you were brought into the dressing room.
Before you, rows upon rows of dresses and different types of clothing you had never seen before hung on racks. A few servant girls were already waiting in front of a mirror, holding measuring tape.
“Stand here while we take your measurements.”
You held out your arms, cheeks hot as your naked body was put on display for various women. Their expressions were neutral, and they simply figured out what size you were before running off to fetch various clothing items.
This only added on to your stress.
“Your own personal wardrobe will be prepared shortly, but as the seamstresses are working, you will wear pre-prepared dresses.”
You were dressed in something elegant and flowy, a light blue and white in color. It was something you had never worn before, the fabric soft yet thick and warm.
“With a bit of work, you will be ready for the banquet tonight. For now, the prince is requesting your presence at his bedside once more.”
A servant girl led you way, and you heard the others discussing how to prepare your hair and makeup later in the evening.
You were not looking forward to that.
You were led back to the room you woke up in. The smell of incense wafted from under the door, the lavender and vanilla scent making you relax.
“Come in,” the prince called out after the servant girl knocked. After being ushered in, you slowly adjusted to the darkness of the room and opened your eyes.
He was laid out in the bed, taking in your new look with eager eyes. “Mmm… you clean up nicely, though I preferred your scent before.”
The prince gestured for you to join him in bed, and you quickly scurried to his side, shyly climbing in next to him. “What’s the reason for all this timid behavior? My tongue was buried deep inside of you last night, was it not? There’s nothing to be shy about.”
Your cheeks heated up once again, and you avoided his gaze. “S-saying things like that… isn’t it a bit inappropriate for a p… prince? Won’t they-“
He laughed, grabbing your chin and turning you to face him. “And you think a prince would care who hears him speaking to his mate as he pleases? You are mine, how I talk to you is no one’s business.”
The way he spoke made a shiver go down your spine. He was so confident… and you?
You were the daughter of a simple tavern owner, having no prospects other than hopefully marrying a decent man that would take good care of you.
Though you could feel your body yearning to be near him, almost instinctively drawing closer, you thought it was… strange.
Was the only thing connecting you to this beautiful man instinct? Though you ached when he looked your way, you couldn’t help but feel empty.
What other reason than being forced by fate would a man like him choose to be by your side?
You softened when the pads of his fingertips slowly slid down your side. He was gentle with you, though you had the feeling he wasn’t always like this.
“Come closer, I wish to hold you.”
Slowly you climbed to his side, melting into his touch when he cupped your chubby cheek.
The servant girls called him insane before, insinuating he was cruel and beastly.
But could someone with a touch this gentle truly hurt you?
“You look lovely. Perfect, I’d say,” he mumbled, burying his nose into your hair. You held onto his sleeve, feeling his horns lightly rub against you.
“… you call me lovely, but I don’t think I’ve ever seen a more handsome man than you.”
He chuckled, his chest tumbling pleasantly. “Am I? Darling, you’re going to make me blush.”
You could tell he was lightly teasing you, which led you to letting out an involuntary huff. This made the dragon prince’s laugh increase in volume.
“Oh? My little mate is pouting now? How cute.”
He tilted your chin up, taking in the way your chubby cheeks puffed out lightly, and how your lips pursed.
“Ahh, you’re going to be the end of me, darling. I can hardly control myself when you’re looking at me like that,” he purred, his voice almost a growl.
Before he could continue his teasing, there was another knock at the door. His demeanor shifted from relaxed and amused to irritated in seconds.
“Who dares to interrupt my time with my precious mate?”
You rested your head against his chest as a woman entered. She certainly was no servant girl, you could tell by the silk and thick wool she wore.
“Mother…”
He held you close, wrapping his arms around your body and tucking your head under his chin. It was almost like an animal protecting its young from a vicious predator.
The woman before you had icy blue eyes, dark hair, and pale skin. It was almost like she was looking into your soul, judging you from within.
Though she looked so different from the prince, he called her his mother…
“You are to report to your father within the hour with your… so called mate. He will be the judge on if this is an actual mating bond this time. You should hope it is, to save yourself the embarrassment.”
With one last look that could freeze hell itself, she turned away, a servant girl shutting the door for her.
You looked up to ask the prince about the woman from before, but he looked distant and cold himself. He stared at your soft body, caressing your cheek and keeping you close to his chest.
“… worry not about that hag, my love. She is not my true mother, simply a woman the emperor, my father has married.”
Though he told you not to worry, the way he held you was enough to have you tense.
The prince held you as if letting you go could only invite trouble… and you knew that woman was the reason for his uneasiness.
Walking with him through the halls made you feel like a princess. People bowed as you passed by, but you noticed others retreated out of fear. Though he kept up a cold facade, you could feel his grip tighten on your hand each time a servant or royal scurried away.
Her presence definitely had a profound effect on him.
He stopped before a massive door, so big it could easily crush you if it were to fall forward. Carved into the dark oak were images of what you could only assume was the banquet of the Chinese zodiac.
They danced and feasted all over the door, and in the center was a dragon watching over them all. The eyes of the dragon were encrusted with sparkling red jewels, and it almost felt like they followed your every movement.
The doors opened, relieving you of the dragon’s intense stare… only for you to come face to face with a real one.
“Father,” the prince acknowledged the dragon, bowing low before you blinked rapidly.
“F-father!?”
The dragon before you was easily the size of the tavern you worked at, if bigger. It sat on a (most likely) custom made thrown, glaring down at your with red eyes that matched the one from the door.
“Ah, your mate already sees me as a father. How cute.”
You stiffened as the dragon stood, causing the palace to shake. Everywhere you turned, people either continued on or stood politely nearby, completely… calm!?
So, trying to fit in, you bit the inside of your cheek and looked up, meeting his eye. You reached out your hand as he approached.
“It’s good to meet you, y-your highness. My name is (Name).”
The prince gave you an amused, incredulous look from the corner of his eye, but you could see the way the corner of his mouth twitched in panic.
The floor shook with the emperor’s laughter, his tail lashing behind him and knocking over a potted plant.
“My son, your supposed mate is quite funny. She offers me her hand like a commoner would, not surprising considering her upbringing.”
Though his words sounded rude, there was no malice behind it. He reached out one of his claws, and you shook it.
It took you a moment to register the cool feeling of his claw turning into the warmth of a human hand. He had shifted into a more humanoid form… and a handsome one at that.
Though he was older and taller, you could tell the resemblance to the prince. He was definitely his father, there was no doubting that.
“I assume this form may be less threatening to a human such as yourself. It may not seem like it, but I take no pleasure in frightening those who may become my family.”
His touch was firm, but not rough. The emperor moved away from you just as the prince’s arm wrapped around your waist and pulled you into his chest.
“Ah, my apologies, son. She’s yours, isn’t she?”
The prince’s appearance had changed slightly, his dragon features becoming more prominent. Dark scales appeared along his face and arms, his horns growing in size to the point they looked too heavy for his head.
It was clear he was incredibly protective of you, disliking his father being too friendly with his mate. It made you feel quite happy, seeing how worked up he got over a perceived threat.
Your fingertips lights caressed his cheek, and slowly he calmed down. His scales flattened out into smooth skin again, and he rested his chin on your shoulder.
“It’s alright,” you murmured, kissing his cheek. “Don’t fuss, everything will be okay.”
Something about you soothed his soul in a way no one else could. To anyone watching, it was obvious that you were his soulmate.
“It seems you have finally found the one, my son.”
Your hand suddenly grew hot, and you yelped as you held your hand up to see what was causing the sudden pain.
There was now a ring on your ring finger, the color of the stone the same as the prince’s eyes. On his hand was a matching band, encrusted with jewels that matched your eyes.
“I have recognized your mating bond as being valid. The wedding shall take place when the moon is full once more.”
The prince squeezed your hand, his thumb running over your new ring possessively. You could tell by the way he sniffed at you that he was eager to get you back to his bedroom.
Though part of you was thrilled to be tied to someone that made your heart flutter inside your chest… insecurities still lingered in your mind.
Did he truly love you? You’d only known him for 24 hours, there was no way he could… it all had to be because of your mating bond…
Right..?
Almost as if sensing your unease, the emperor chuckled. “My son, it seems you and your mate are eager to consummate this mating bond. Perhaps it’s time to show her your feelings.”
With that, he gave a nod to one of the deities lounging about nearby. “Begin preparations for the wedding… and tell everyone that interrupting the future emperor and empress tonight will bring severe punishments.”
The two of you were dismissed with a wave of the emperor’s hand, and your lover was quick to gather you in his arms and carry you back to his room.
“Father may be intimidating and married to the most evil bitch alive, but at least he can understand that the newly tied need privacy.”
You whimpered when his face nuzzled against your neck, your heart beating faster as he inhaled your scent.
“Gods… I’ll be mating with you before the banquet, I cannot hold back any longer…”
The second the door to his room was closed, his lips smashed into yours. He was desperate for you, his hands roaming your plump hips and holding on tightly.
“Your scent has been driving me insane… I need you, darling…”
You let out a whimper as he lowered you onto the bed, your thighs trembling lightly at the memory of last night. Pleasures unimaginable had been given to you, and you were sure that it would only get better now.
But…
“… are you sure this is what you want?”
His lips paused on your neck, his hands moving from your hips to your face. He held onto your chin, tilting it up to meet his face. “… what do you mean, my love? Of course I want you, we’re mates-“
“Is that the only reason!?”
His eyes widened when you raised your voice, the tension in the air so thick you could cut it with a knife. The past day you had been doubting his love for you, seeing it as only instinctual…
“(Name)… you don’t understand how much I adore you.”
You melted as he kisses your eyelids, his touch tender and affectionate. “From the moment I laid eyes on you, I knew that you were the one. Mating bonds are important, but that doesn’t mean I don’t love you outside of it. You’re kind, you make me smile and feel like…”
He sighed, his thumb caressing your cheek. “Let me show you something.”
The prince pulled back, and you felt your body ache when his warmth faded from your skin. He slowly disrobed, letting the expensive fabric fall to the ground.
His torso was littered with scars, long and jagged, all seemed to be caused by fighting. The prince didn’t meet your eye as he spoke.
“Most celestial deities heal wounds like these easily, but try as I might, these scars do not seem to heal. It is because… I am weak.”
He hung his head in shame, hair falling to hide his face. “How can I even think of taking care of a mate when I can’t even protect you? I’m-
You reached out and grabbed his hand before he continued. You placed your fingertips over one of his scars, shaking your head.
“Don’t say that…”
It was quiet, your touch soothing on his scarred skin. He shuddered as your traces each wound, every movement of your fingers tender and full of love.
“Having scars doesn’t make you weak, not at all… it shows you’ve survived so much… it’s evidence of how strong you are.”
The prince did not say anything, simply wrapping his arms around you and pulling you to his chest. All he could have ever wanted was his mate to accept him as he was, completely.
You truly were meant to be his.
“I need you, (Name), my love… my body burns with desire every time you touch me.”
He had waited long enough. Being so close to you had caused him to slowly enter an almost rut like state. If he couldn’t mate with you soon, he’d go crazy.
“Then I want you to have me… I need to be yours…” you said, leaning into his touch. His chest tumbled at your words, the scales from before coming back. This time it wasn’t out of anger, no, he was very pleased.
“As you wish, my love. I will make you mine entirely, just give me your trust and I will give you my heart.”
This time you initiated the kiss, much to his delight. Your arms wrapped around his neck, pulling him in.
A battle for dominance began, your tongues fighting but you gave in quickly. He was strong, and you wanted him to ravish you. You were giving yourself to him.
He was quick to shred through your clothes. The displeasure of such a nice dress going to waste only lasted for a second before you melted into his arms.
“Divine, just gorgeous…” he murmured, groping one of your breasts. “You’re truly the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen…”
He lightly tugged at one of your nipples, the other one sucked on lightly. His tongue swirled around the perky bud, his free hand moving downwards, towards your clothed cunt.
For a minute he rubbed you through your underwear, lightly circling your clit. His ear twitched when you let out a breathy moan, your hips bucking lightly into his hand.
His cock twitched, already erect and desperate to be inside of you. But he was a gentleman, and couldn’t bear the thought of potentially hurting his mate.
So he was gentle, removing your soaked underwear and prodding at your needy hole. “Look at that, someone is excited…”
“Says you…” you managed to get out between moans, feeling his fingers curl up and hit the perfect spot inside of you. “You’re spilling precum all over my thighs…”
He grinned, enjoying your back and forth banter. “Oh? Then perhaps it’s time to get on with it. After all…”
His head pushed against your cunt, eliciting a moan from both of you. “I don’t want to waste a single drop of my seed… it all needs to be inside of my mate…”
And then he penetrated you. At first it hurt, the stretch feeling uncomfortable, like you were being pulled apart. You’d never seen a human man naked, but you assumed he was bigger than average.
If you had to guess, you’d say he was around 8-9 inches long, and girty too. Taking him wasn’t easy, and he hated seeing tears well up in your eyes because of him.
Being inside of you felt heavenly. You were warm and tight, and he could cum just from being fully sheathed in your fat cunt… but he felt terrible for feeling so much pleasure while you were in pain.
“It’s going to be alright, sweetheart…” he murmured, one of his claws caressing your hips. “I’m going to be gentle, this pain won’t last for long…”
He peppered kisses along your neck, waiting patiently for you to calm down and for the pain to ease. The prince was well aware of the size difference between you and him, and that if he wasn’t careful during mating, his form could shift and grow larger, potentially harming you.
He was right, soon the pain began to ebb away, dulling until all you could feel was pleasure washing over your body. His cock twitched inside of you, and you arched your back.
“Ready?”
You nodded, your chest rising and falling as your breathing picked up. He could feel how wet you were, and began to move slowly.
The moan the movements of his lips elicited from you caused him to groan, his eyes flicking to your flustered face.
“M-more… please?”
Though there was part of him that wanted to make you beg and plead for more, he wanted to fuck you too much to pause and wait. They had all of the time in the world to make love, but right now he needed you desperately.
His hips slapped against yours as he picked up the pace, claws gripping so tightly that you could feel them piercing your skin.
But that light pain paled in comparison to the intense pleasure you felt as your velvety walls clenched around him in your first orgasm of the night.
“So good… so fucking good…”
He groaned into your neck, breathing your scent mixed in with the smell of sex in the air. The prince could have gotten drunk off of that alone.
Your head soon grew fuzzy with pleasure, and all you could think of was how good it felt to be absolutely ravished by your mate.
All thoughts of gentleness were thrown out the window as he threw one of your legs over his shoulder so he could push deeper inside. He watched as he cock moved in and out, covered in your slick…
When he came, you felt yourself being stretched, his cock swelling inside of you. So much cum was stuffed into your womb, your tummy full of his seed.
Something about being filled with your mate’s cum felt… right. Like it was the natural thing to do, he needed to stuff you full of his seed like a good mate should…
He stayed inside for a while, rutting against you even as he continued to cum. He didn’t want to leave your warmth…
But despite that, he was nowhere near satisfied… but despite your whines, he pulled out a moment later.
“… gods… don’t fret, my love… we can continue after dinner. Trust me, you’ll need your energy for tonight.”
He gave your clit one last teasing flick before pulling your soaked panties back over your cunt.
“Ah, my love… you’ll need another bath. I’ll fetch the-“
You held onto his hand, shaking your head. “I wanna… take a bath with you…”
In reality you didn’t want to be with those gossiping women again. The things they said about the prince upset you, and you weren’t sure if you’d be able to hold your tongue this time.
Even if some of the rumors might be true, your mate wasn’t some monster. He was kind to you, he yearned for acceptance in a world that deemed him weak for having scars.
“A bath with me, hmm? Can’t get enough of me can you?”
Though he was teasing you, it was clear the fact you wanted to stay near him brought the prince endless joy. “It seems my puppy knows where her home is already.”
This made you pout, and he cooed over you. “Oh, don’t make that face, I’m joking.”
With that he lifted you up, kissing your forehead. “Of course you can bathe with me. I’d rather not have anyone else see you covered in my seed anyways.”
You let him rinse you off, his hands lingering on your messy cunt as his cock fucked your thighs. You were both still feeling needy, wanting to fuck like rabbits, but were holding back.
It wasn’t easy, and you felt your cheeks grow warm over how much a whore you’d become in 24 hours. All you could think of was him sinking his cock inside of you again…
“Mmm…” he purred against your neck, rubbing the washcloth over your tits as his cock stayed nestled between your thighs. “I don’t think I’ll ever get used to your body…”
He gently squished your soft belly, playing with your warm and malleable fat. “So squishy, I love it so much…”
From one look around the palace you noticed most of the women were quite thin, so it was safe to assume he really had never been in the arms of a woman like you.
You were chubby, with thick thighs and an ample bosom. To just commoners, you were seen as a fertile woman that could handle childbirth without any problems.
And it seemed his dragon side went completely feral at that thought.
The two of you cuddled as you waited for the servant girls to bring your fitted dresses. There was a fluffy robe for each of you waiting on the freshly cleaned bed after your bath.
This was what being rich probably felt like. Being waited on hand and foot, not even having to tell someone to clean your cum and sweat soaked sheets.
With an embarrassed squee, you made a mental note to thank the women that had to clean that up later. It couldn’t have been an easy task.
A knock on the door caused you to look up. The servant girl from before bowed, walking in and offering her hand.
“I can dress you n-“
The prince pulled you back into his lap, growling lowly as his scales popped up all over his body. Even his face looked more reptilian than human.
“Don’t you dare touch her without my permission.”
You blinked in surprise, glancing up at him and raising an eyebrow. He seemed almost feral, and you could feel him rubbing against you, trying to make sure you were covered in his scent.
The servant girl was on the floor, trembling and holding her arms up to defend herself, which caused your mate to ease up. You could tell he felt guilty for lashing out at a defenseless woman, but he was on edge knowing you’d be seeing his stepmother again at dinner.
“… I apologize, I shouldn’t have yelled at you.”
His grip loosened on you, allowing you to feel all forward and help the woman up. “Get her dressed… then take the day off.”
You glanced back at him as the servant girl dressed yiu with shaking hands. It was clear he felt terrible despite the cold facade he had up. You knew you mate well, already able to tell when he was upset.
“My love…”
He perked up when you were fully dressed, your hair and makeup done to perfection. The prince’s tail slapped against the floor, his cheeks flushed a light pink.
“You’re gorgeous…”
When he realized how lovestruck he looked, the prince cleared his throat. His signature cocky smirk overtook his face once more, and he offered his arm to you. “May I escort you to the banquet, my princess?”
You gave him a fond smile, taking his arm. “It would be an honor, my prince.”
He escorted you to the banquet, barely holding back from grabbing your ass as his hand slipped to your lower back. You just smelled way too fragrant, making his cock twitch in his pants as he imagined being inside of you again.
“Welcome.”
The prince froze in place, his hand pausing on the small of your back as he met eyes with his father’s wife.
“Mother. Thank you for putting this together…” he said, his tail slowly wrapping around your lower half and pulling you close. It seemed his dragon features became more prominent when he wanted to protect you…
“I hope your little… mate knows proper etiquette. She will not embarrass me at this banquet. Having a commoner, a mere human peasant as a mate is already humiliating enough, so make sure you keep her in check.”
Your smile faltered, an uncomfortable silence falling over the two of you.
The prince’s jaw tensed up. “… don’t speak of her as if she is not here. Whether you like it or not, she’s my mate and I love her.”
Her face became even colder, her eyes narrowing. “You should watch who you’re talking to. I’m the empress, y-“
“And? (Name) will soon be the empress herself, so have some damn respect!”
His stepmother drew back, clutching her pearls. “I hope you know your father will hear about this!”
With that, she turned on her heels and left. You glanced at him, holding onto his sleeve. “… why does she treat you like that? You don’t deserve it…”
He huffed, crossing his arms. “It’s because I’m the son of a concubine. She hasn’t been able to birth a son for my father, meaning none of her children will be able to take the throne. It’s pathetic, and I’m not afraid of her anymore.”
He pulled out your chair for you, smiling fondly. “When I was a child, she used to terrorize me… but I have someone I need to protect now. I don’t have time to be afraid of some old hag.”
Before you could sit, he took your seat and pulled you into his lap. “Maybe it��s better if you stay close. She can be pretty vindictive. And…”
You felt his bulge rub lightly against you.
“We should have some fun at our own banquet, shouldn’t we?”
The table was filled with various foods, some you had never seen before, but everything smelled absolutely delicious.
There were deities taking seats all around you, some glancing your way but quickly turning when the prince bared his fangs. Not a single person dared to challenge him, not when his protectiveness was high due to mating with you for the first time.
The emperor and empress entered the banquet hall, and everyone stood besides you and the prince. He kept you seated on his lap, lightly moving your hips along his clothed erection.
The two took their seats, and the emperor waved his hand, causing everyone to sit as well.
“As you all know by now, you've all been gathered here to celebrate my son’s success in finding his mate. Now that he has one, the throne shall be passed down to him after the wedding.”
Whispers broke out among the dinner guests, some upset and others curious. You wanted to hide away, having everyone’s eyes on you made your heart race.
“Silence.”
Not a single peep could be heard when the emperor’s voice rang out in the banquet hall, echoing off the walls.
“I heard my son was disrespectful towards the empress. Was that right, my son?”
The empress stared down at the happy couple, her lip twitching into a sinister smile. The prince gave his father a nod.
“She bad mouthed my mate. If you were in my shoes, you would have done the same thing.”
Before the empress could retort, the emperor held up his hand. “I see. I hope my family can get along in the future. After all, my son will soon be the emperor.”
His eyes shifted towards the empress. “Some of you would do well to remember that soon, he will be the one in charge.”
The empress quietly seethed after that, and the banquet continued without a hitch. As you ate, he rubbed at your belly, his fingers occasionally brushing against your crotch.
He was an absolute horndog, needing you like a man dying of thirst needs water.
“We’ll be taking our leave now,” your mate announced once you both had your fill. He did nothing to hide his erection, lifting you into his arms.
“I hope you keep your promise to make sure no one bothers us, father.”
The emperor simply chuckled, waving the two of you away. “Go on, you won’t be disturbed.”
With every step he took towards your shared bedchambers, the prince became more beastly. It seemed it was hard to keep his human form when he was this needy for you.
The second you were both behind closed doors, his cock was already out of his pants and rubbing against your back, his hands trembling with excitement as he lifted your dress to stare at your drooling cunt.
“You need me, don’t you princess?”
His fingers dragged along your wetness, gathering up your slick before bringing it to his mouth. “I could taste you for hours…”
You felt his fingers pump in and out of you, and this time he wasn’t as gentle. He bit down on your thigh, leaving a few hickeys and bite marks along your soft flesh.
Anyone that saw you would know you were his, the prince would make sure of that.
Your brain was already starting to turn to mush, you weren’t sure if you’d be completely luciduribg this. It just felt so good, he was an expert at this.
His long, textured tongue lapped at your folds. It was almost like a cat’s tongue, just less rough, and it was replacing his fingers. That’s how long it was.
He tongue fucked you, his hands squeezing your thighs as he drew out your moans and cries, lightly smacking your ass when you squirmed. It was a gentle warning to stay still…
The prince wanted to enjoy his meal.
You came around his tongue, clenching as your hips bucked wildly upwards, and only then did he draw back and give you a lust filled look.
That’s when he slowly pushed his cock into you, the familiar feeling of you warmth making him melt against you. Nothing else had ever made him feel so at home, he only got this feeling when he was buried inside of your cunt. This was where he was supposed to plant his seed, and he had to breed you.
He rammed into you, moving his lips to your neck to suck and bite at you as he pounded your poor pussy.
But after a moment, he pulled out, his hand on your belly as he panted softly. The way you whimpered and begged for him to continue was endearing, but he had other things in mind.
“You’re mine… and I just can’t hold back anymore…”
His form frew, his cock nearly doubling inside as he became the closest to a dragon yet. Dark scales covered his body, massive arms at eaither of your sides keeping you caged underneath him. His scaly underbelly brushed against you,
Though his cock was intimidatingly big and would stretch you out to your limit, he knew he could fit it inside of you.
It throbbed, laying against your belly as he leaned forward to nudge his dragon head against your face in an affectionate and possessive display.
Though for a moment you felt fear seeing such a beast hovering over you, his eyes met yours and you relaxed. This was still the prince… and you loved him even in this form. Not despite it, no, you adored his smooth black scales that felt like cool river rocks and the warmth of his belly.
“I need you…” he murmured, his chest rumbling with a purr. “If… you don’t want this, I’ll-“
You lifted your hips, letting the top lip of his cock rub against your folds. He let out a growl, his hips snapping forward, and you felt him pushing in.
Even though the stretch felt like your virginity was being taken for a second time, you kissed his snout. “O want this…”
With your confirmation, he sunk fully in, giving you a moment to adjust before he began to move.
Moans and whimpers echoed through the room as your lover fucked you stupid. With each slap of his hips against yours, you saw stars.
Your tummy bulged with his cock, his claw running over the imprint. “You’re taking me so well, such a good little mate…”
His balls tightened, and he roared as he came inside of you for the first time that night. Hot, thick ropes of sticky cum shot inside of you, filling your womb and making your belly feel hot.
But he wasn’t done with you, not even close.
The prince turned you on your back, his teeth sinking into your shoulder as he mounted you, pounding your pussy at an animalistic pace. Your cunt clenched around him so perfectly, the fat flesh on your ass rippling with each powerful thrust.
A clawed hand reached between your legs, carefully rubbing at your clit. He loved the way you came around his cock, how you cried out for more even as you were stuffed to the brink with his cum.
“I know, my sweet, you want it all don’t you? Selfish little thing, but I love you all the same.”
He pushed your face into the pillow, growling and purring into your ear as he listened to your muffled moans. You were drooling, your eyes glazed over with pleasured tears, and his chest swelled with pride to know he was the one making you feel this way.
No one else could see you in this state. Your body bare and covered in your own cum, his beginning to drip out of your cunt. You were an utter mess, only able to moan and babble out pleas for more, and each time you did he fulfilled your requests.
After all, he was a good mate. You wanted him to touch you, to increase his speed, or change the angle of his hips so his cock hit the perfect spot? He’d do so in a heartbeat, all to please you.
The prince slumped over you, slowly reverting back to his humanoid form as he came inside of you again. You were worn out, and he could see your pussy clenching around nothing when he pulled out.
“Aww, still needy…”
He gathered up some of his cum, cooing softly as he shoved it back into you with his fingers, pumping them in and out. “Look at you, wasting all of this. Naughty girl, do I have to start all over again?”
The night was long, and every time you grew too exhausted to carry on, he used a bit of his power to rejuvenate you. Heated kisses were left along your bruised skin, a satisfied purr leaving his throat as he spotted some of the hickeys and bites he had given you earlier.
“You look so pretty, decorated with my marks. No one else would dare to even lay a finger on you, not when you’re completely covered in my scent and bites.”
He nuzzled against your neck as you sat on his lap, cockwarming him. The prince was kind enough to give you a break, though he couldn’t bear to pull out of you, even for a second.
The prince smiled fondly, rubbing his hand over your swollen belly. “You know… I’d be happy if you were able to carry my young, but I know there’s a chance it won’t happen due to our difference in anatomy.”
He nibbled softly on your neck and shoulder. “But I don’t care, you’re my mate regardless. Having children would be nice but it’s not a necessity.”
You sighed in relief. In all honesty, part of you had been afraid he would abandon you for another celestial deity if you could not produce an heir. You were only human after all…
His teeth grazed your jaw, but you felt no fear. “Mmm… I’ve only known you a day but it feels like an eternity. Perhaps that is what being soul bonded to someone feels like…”
“I feel that way too… it’s like we’ve always been together, or at least… we were meant to be.”
The two of you shared a kiss, one of his hands on your ample breast, squeezing the soft flesh as his tongue ran across yours.
Once you both were worn out and the sun had come up, he finally curled up in bed with you to rest properly. Binge again you felt almost like a newborn baby being held and protected, safe and warm. You were getting used to this kind of thing… getting used to being loved.
When you awoke with a whine, you were being carried away by the prince. He glanced down, giving you a quick kiss. “Quiet now, love. We’re going to escape for a bit. Let’s call it our early honeymoon.”
You let out a laugh, quickly shushed by your mate. “But we haven’t even married yet, love.”
The prince grinned. “Yes, but once we’re married I’ll have too many responsibilities to take care of because I’ll be emperor. Let’s enjoy our freedom until then.”
He leapt across a sea of stars, and you reached down to touch it. Bits of stardust clung to your fingertips, glowing brightly.
“There’s a hot spring, we’ll relax there for a few days… or until they notice we’re missing.”
The celestial hot springs were beautiful, and once you stepped into the water, you felt your body relax and melt. “Oh wow…”
The prince pulled you in, holding you in his lap. “B-but this isn’t the mixed bath, you shouldn’t-“
You were quieted when his cock nudged against you. The two of you were both still very sensitive from your mating bond, there was no way you could say no to having him inside of you.
“Mmm…”
He admired your curves, one of his hands giving your soft belly a squish as you lowered yourself onto his cock. “Pretty girl knows where the best seat in the house is, doesn’t she?”
You pouted, but he was right. The last few days had been utter bliss, you were already addicted to your mate’s scent and cum.
Just a whiff of his cologne or musk was enough to have you clench around him, and he was close to bursting when he smelled your arousal.
“Good girl, my sweet little mate…”
He bounced you on his cock lazily, sinking into the water a bit as he licked at your neck.
“I love you, (Name).”
You leaned against his chest, letting him guide your hips up and down. He was good at this, knowing when to speed up or change his rhythm to really get you going.
“And I love you, my prince. More than anything… you’ve made my life worth living.”
He tucked your head under his chin, embracing you. It wasn’t long before the two of you were done in the hot springs and ready to continue your love making in the bedroom.
The two of you spent several days at the hot spring, enjoying the water, food, and making love as often as possible. By the time someone came to pick you up, you were sure the hot spring was at least 80% cum.
‘Sorry, future customer,’ you thought to yourself, leaving against the prince as he guided you to the carriage.
It had all been like a dream. He had whisked you away into a fairy tale world, making you feel like a real life princess.
For the rest of your life, he would worship and adore you. With every kiss and touch, that fact was made clear.
To be loved by the prince was an honor. You were the thing he treasured the most, and you would continue to love him just as he was.
“Do you think dreams come true?” your asked, leaning against his shoulder as the carriage continued on towards the palace.
“Mhm, I do,” the prince murmured, pulling you closer. “Because I’ve been dreaming of this my entire life… and I finally have you.”
You smiled and drifted off in his arms, feeling like the luckiest girl ever.
————————
NSFW TAGLIST: @avalordream @icommitwarcrimes @bazpire @im-eating-rn @anglingforlevels @kinshenewa @pasteldaze @yoongiigolden @peachesdabunny @murder-hobo @leiselotte @misswonderfrojustice @dij-ology @i8kaeya @lollboogurl @h3110-dar1in9 @keikokashi @aliceattheart @mssmil3y @namjoons-t1ddies @izarosf1833 @healanette @lem-hhn @spufflepuff @honey-crypt @karljra @zyettemoon1800 @exodiam @vexillum-moeru @imperfectlyperfectprincess1 @enchantedsylveon @mysticranger575 @readeryn68 @danielle143 @kittenlover614 @filthybunny420 @annavittoria-mm @makimamybelovedwife @blubearxy @omglovelylaila @toocollectionchaos-universe-blog @fruk-you-usuk-fans @wil10wthetree @hammerhead96-blog @slightlyusedfloormat @bubblez-blop @sunshineangel-reads @heroneki-neko @soapybabyboop @anonymouskiwi
#dragon smut#dragon x reader#dragon x human#dragon hybrid#dragon boyfriend#dragon hybrid smut#dragon hybrid x reader#monster fucker#monster lover#monster fudger#monster fic#terato#teraphilia#terat0philliac#teratophillia#exophelia#monster boyfriend#monster fucking#monster x you#monster x reader#monster x human#monster imagine#fat reader#plus size reader#chubby!reader#chubby reader#x reader#monster bf#monster smut#female reader
5K notes
·
View notes
Text
Little Heaven

Synopsis. He’s just your friend-with-benefits, right? So why - in the still haze of the soft sheets and you, fúcking you so sensual and tenderly - does he feel like he’s found his own personal heaven?
Pairing. Multiple x Reader
Content. MDNI, fem! reader, unprotected, kinda fluffy, he’s both pússydrunk and in love, slow to rough, marking, mentions of marriage and kids, morning, swearing.
Word count. 1.3k
A/N. Probably the fluffiest smút I’ve ever written.

You were just his friend-with-benefits, right? No strings attached, right?
So why was he here? Sinking into your plush mattress, quiet morning sun just barely peeking in through the curtains as he wraps his arms around your naked figure.
God, he really shouldn’t be here. He shouldn’t be laying you on your side, drinking in your soft little, “G’mornin’.” Both of your movements languid and still burning with soreness. Your hips pushing back desperately into his as he positions himself so that his leaking tip was just kissing your swollen folds.
He shouldn’t be whispering soft kisses into the marks that littered your skin. Licking one, long stripe up the sinful trail of hickies down your neck. All sensual touches where it was bruising grips last night.
That was rule #1, right? No marks.
Or was it #4…
Ah, right now he couldn’t give less of a fuck. Not when his greedy eyes wander the expanse of your face, fingers trailing along the features he’s mapped a thousand times over. Tracing delicate patterns across your skin, snaking down, down, down to leisurely lift your leg a little higher.
Bare chest warm against your back, his voice is low and gravelly in your ear as he whispers, “I had a dream y’know.”
Mind still thinly veiled with sleep, you lean into his warm touch, “Mhm?”
Your breath hitches at the way he drags his swollen head teasingly across your slit, pooling your slick on his achingly hard tip. Smearing your juices with his thumb as he pumps himself lazily. It’s so torturously good. You almost miss the way he buries his face into the crook of your neck, murmuring a soft “Had a dream of us.”
Oh?
Before you can overthink his words, he’s nudging in gently. So agonizingly gentle. And you can do nothing more than let out barely-audible whispers of his name as he bullies his throbbing cock into your snug cunt.
You feel so full. So drunk off of the delicious burn of your pussy and him.
And it seems he was drunk on you just as much, because as soon as his hips are flush against yours, the words escape him. So quiet and groggy with sleep, that you almost don’t catch them.
“Had a dream that I made you my beautiful bride.”
Oh.
That was new. His words hung heavy in the heady air.
Shivers run down your spine - all the way to where he was buried in your dripping cunt. Your voice is slightly shaky as you let out a humorless laugh, “Oh yeah? Must’ve been a nightmare then.”
Soft lips press against your forehead, breathing in your scent. Absolutely searing as he mutters out a muffled, “No, was the best dream I ever had.”
And then, with the audacity of someone who didn’t just send your mind reeling, he pulls his hips back unhurriedly. Immediately fucking into you at a slow, sensual pace. Tip kissing your cervix as he rolls his hips languidly into yours, making sure you feel every bump and graze against your tight walls.
You don’t know what’s more maddening - his agonizing pace or the words that tumble out of his lips. “Y’looked so beautiful in white. So pretty walking down the aisle to me.”
His lips brush against yours, hands dancing across every inch of you he could reach. Gently caressing the skin like it’s something divine, soothing over the marks from last night as if an apology. “Don’ think I’d want to see anyone else there.”
You glance back at him - only to find his eyes already on you. A jolt of electricity runs across your skin at the pure warmth in them. And you realize that, no, this wasn’t a joke.
Not trusting yourself to speak, you simply grind your hips down to meet his, abs rubbing against your ass. Letting out a broken whimper of what sounds like his name as he moves down a hand to press rough, little circles over and over your throbbing clit.
“Saw a little something else too.” he hums, a sly smile curling his lips as his other hand dances across your body to press down on your stomach. Hard. “Saw that I had some competition - two actually. Funny, right?”
“Hah- h-hilarious.” you manage to choke out as his thumb speeds up on your clit, hips moving a bit more purposefully. A bit more like you were used to. Rock-hard cock plunging into your quivering cunt in deliberate, sloppy thrusts that have you white-knuckling the sheets.
“Though…” he trails off dangerously, pulling back all the way until his furiously hard tip was just kissing your waiting hole. “I wouldn’t really mind.”
And with that he’s sheathing his throbbing erection in your wet pussy completely. A gasp of delight leaves him at the way you take him so readily. Walls sucking him up so sinfully - perfect. You were always so perfect for him.
“Dreamt we had a lil’ house with a big garden.” God, he can feel his cock harden so painfully at the fucked-out little ah! ah! ah! leaving your pretty lips each time his hip smack into yours. It’s music to his ears, such a shame he just can’t shut the fuck up right now. “And then you dressed the kids up while I made breakfast.”
“Then you made us do taxes and I didn’t even fucking mind.” His voice is strained now, words slurring together as he rams his cock deeper and deeper, glistening with your slick in the soft morning glow.
“And finally at night, I say we should make a third one.”
He looks at you, a sly grin stretching his lips, eyes half-lidded and a dangerous twinkle in them that has you wondering whether everything he said before was merely a ruse to fuck you silly. And it probably shows on your face - because he grins lowly in your ear, “Don’t worry, sweetheart, we have till our wedding night f’me to fuck you slow.”
And oh he almost feels guilty. But he can’t bring himself to slow down at the way your swollen lips drop into such a pretty oh! at his words. Mewling at the sting of his heavy balls as they smack your ass. Walls clamping down desperately on his dick, milking him for every drop of pleasure. Each thrust into your warm core has his eyes rolling to the back of his head, brows furrowing in ecstasy as he focuses on making you lose your mind.
He shifts his angle slightly, grinding expertly against your g-spot just right, and you throw your head back, releasing a low moan of his name.
“Shit. Yeah, say m’name, sweetheart. Jus’ like that.” he moans breathlessly.
His name - soon to be yours.
Maybe.
You turn your head to face him, eyes fiery as you capture his in an equally scorching kiss. Cock slamming into your poor, abused cunt with an intensity that matches that of your lips.
Probably.
Biting down on his lower lips, soft yet insistent. Humming deliriously against his mouth - and in the heat of it all, he feels you smile against his lips. Ever-so-slightly.
Definitely.
And then you’re cumming. White-hot pleasure behind your eyes, walls clamping down so deliciously around his twitching cock. It sends him over the edge as well - whispering your name as if a prayer, voice hoarse with emotions neither of you could name at this very moment.
Hot ropes of his thick cum paint your trembling cunt white, milking the soul out of him as you both ride out your climaxes together. A creamy ring forming around his base as some truly animalistic part of himself fucks his seed into you - a promise, he likes to think.
“I’m serious about the dream.”
Almost as gentle as that one.
As the haze settles, his thrusts slowing down to just shallow grinds, a fragile silence envelopes the room as neither of you speak. Because maybe no other words were needed.
And right now, morning sunlight harsh on his skin, strong arms pulling you warm body flush against his, no one but you two in this quiet world - he doesn’t think he’d like to be anywhere else.
All is well in your little heaven.
- GOJO, GETO, Choso, SUNA, ATSUMU, Tsukishima, Kuroo, EREN

A/N. Bro it took longer to think of what to write than to write this.
Plagiarism not authorized.
#jjk x reader#jjk smut#aot x reader#aot smut#haikyuu x reader#haikyuu smut#gojo x reader#gojo smut#choso x reader#choso smut#geto x reader#geto smut#tsukishima x reader#kuroo x reader#suna x reader#atsumu x reader#eren x reader#suna smut#kuroo smut#tonywrites#eren smut#atsumu smut#tsukishima smut
15K notes
·
View notes
Note
Okay but MOB sitting on Simon's lap, cuddling as they watch some movie Simon picked out because it was his turn. At one point she gets up and he thinks she's just going to use the restroom, hands on her hips to help stabilize her. Only instead of leaving, she turns around and sits on her knees between his legs. She bats her eyes at him but otherwise just soaking in how pretty he is. He probably makes a joke, says he loves her and when he still doesn't move figures she just wants a moment and continues to watch the screen.
When she finally works herself up to it, she starts sliding her hands up and down his thighs and just the sensation and imagery alone has him hard and he can't bring himself to ask her to stop when it feels so nice. Eventually her hands wander up further and she begins to play with the button of his jeans. Still not stopping her, even as she unbuttons and zips them down to pull out his erection. When he finally looks down, she stops and stares innocently up at him.
As soon as his attention's somewhat back up on the screen, she repositions herself and licks a stripe up his dick to bring his head into her mouth to swirl around. He doesn't even last that long and she doesn't let him pull her off when he comes.
Or something like that...
mail-order bride (18+)
simon likes action movies. they're his favorite, by far. he likes to watch the over-the-top car races in the middle of metropolitan cities, he likes big, stupid explosions and when the protagonist has their enemy at the end of their gun and says something cheesy like "you're not going anywhere now."
he told you once that he likes the simplicity. the happy endings. the key recovered, a family saved, the epic conclusion of an explosive journey that always ends in the bad guy in handcuffs and the good guy on a beach sipping a mai tai, getting the girl, saving the world.
you think maybe he likes it because it dampens reality. you have seen the aftermath of an op gone wrong; in this way, simon can fantasize just a little. he can pretend that there is nothing wrong with the world for 90 minutes or so.
what's so wrong with that?
he's so pretty.
he ran errands for you today. came back from the store with a paper bag in his hands, setting it down on the counter and unpacking it. you were sat at the kitchen counter, the orange cat wrapped up completely in a burrito of a towel so you could cut her dagger-like claws without risk of retaliation. simon was watching carefully out of the corner of his eye, but as he unpacked the bag, you had all but melted in your chair.
a refill of your favorite makeup remover (you were going to run out tonight, guaranteed). vitamins (ya look right sick, baby, drink y'r juice). your favorite brand of pads (just tell me which ones, i'll get it right, promise). sour sweets (cherry-flavored, of course, sour because he likes the face you make when you pop them into your mouth). when the last box hit the counter, you had dropped the cat, much to her relief.
condoms. fucking condoms.
no, he's not pretty. simon is so fucking hot.
he doesn't budge when you get up to put the empty popcorn bowl into the sink. when you come back in the room, simon is still staring at the television, eyes trained on the spy on screen hopping between rooftops as they dodge bullets. you bite your lip watching him, unable to stop thinking about simon, simon, simon.
he's wearing nice jeans. straight jeans, but even the extra give doesn't matter when your husband is made of pure muscle and fat. you can see his stomach through his shirt since it's tucked in, white fabric showing off that nice pudge that you love laying your head on, your palm, knowing how solid and strong he most certainly is. nghghhhh, and his arms--big, bulging, tattooed, a perfect canvas for colorful markers or glitter or maybe your tongue.
it's subconscious, really. the carpet is soft under your knees as you kneel at his feet, lowering yourself so you can blink up at him big and wide as he keeps his eyes on the movie. he does notice you, however; his big hand slides down his thigh, and your eyes flutter a little when he passes it over your head then down your face, a pretty little pet between his legs.
"not supposed to be on y'r knees f'me, baby," simon mutters, but you can't answer because his thumb slips into your mouth. you wrap your lips around it absentmindedly, running your tongue over the thick pad of it. "tha's my job."
you sit up on your knees, leaning over him, and he gives you his attention finally, a twitch of a smile as he bends his neck a little and kisses you warmly. you steady yourself by putting your hands on his thighs, gripping the meat of them firm as you slip your tongue into his mouth and draw a low grunt from deep within his chest.
"always working for me, simon," you whisper between kisses. "always..."
fuck, the blood rushes to his cock almost immediately. he has such a soft spot for you. taking care of you, doing things for you, buying you what you need--it makes him so fucking hard thinking about fulfilling every need of yours. you deserve nothing but nice dreams, good meals, happy cats, a well-loved pussy, all the love his broken heart can give. he chubs up in his pants every time you ask him for something.
can you carry this for me, simon?
oh, i need some help with this, baby, just here...
can you get me more of this? i'm about to run out.
the zipper is stuck, simon...can you get me out of this?
ugh, you're his walking wet dream. and you're kneeling in between his legs, his sweet girl pouting up at him, and--oh, fuck--
your hands are soft under his shirt. you've untucked it just enough, your warm fingers sliding along the band of his jeans. he hisses a little, his body stiffening, and you smooth a thumb over his belt before kissing him again.
"you're so pretty, simon," you whisper, and he licks over your bottom lip in response, drawing a soft whine out of you. his thighs widen just a little when he hears the clink of his belt, feeling the waistband loosen as you draw it out from the loops and toss it onto the carpet behind you. "such a handsome man you are..."
"come off it," simon growls a little, and you giggle, freeing the button and slipping your hand down. his mouth falls open in a silent moan as you cup him with a hot hand, fingers sliding under his length to fondle his balls.
"mmm..." you follow his sputtering mouth, breathing him in. "actually, simon...i really, really wanna get on it..."
"wot a brat," simon murmurs, clicking his tongue. "can't be fuckin' patient--ahh!"
you pull him out of his jeans with a firm tug before sticking your tongue out and kneeling back down to lick a curious stripe up the underside of him. simon is pulsing, radiating heat and already leaking beads of stringy pre-cum, and as you suck the tip of him into your mouth, you realize just how thick your husband really is.
you've never seen him quite this naked, quite this up close. when he fucked your thighs, he had felt big, but his cock is truly making a space for itself in your mouth--
"ah!" you gasp as he fists your hair and pulls you off, leaning down to kiss you hard.
"baby--"
"i want it--" you whimper, using your hands, letting the spit from your mouth drip down his cock as your fingers spread it wide, pumping him softly. "simon, please! please! you always say...always say i can have whatever i want, please..."
when he lets your hair go, you dive. you suck him into your mouth, practically purring as you press him back into the couch and suck. he tastes like a man should, like a husband should, musk and a little sweat and just enough soap to have you a little light-headed. with the first bob of your head, simon shudders, a big hand cupping the back of your neck as he drops his chin to his chest to watch you. he uses his other hand to push your hair back, his mouth falling open a little as he watches your eyes roll back in your head as you try to fit more of him into your mouth.
your mouth squelches with every bob. spit gathers around the edges of your mouth, little globs dripping out as you slurp and flick your tongue over every vein and soft patch of skin. you're making a mess of him, all soft mouth and wiggly tongue and gentle moans that make him seize up.
it's not even a minute of your soft sucking, and simon is caught off guard by his own release. he wants to apologize, but you look so fucking pretty, coughing a little around his wet cock.
you don't stop then either.
some of it drips down around your hands, his own cum webbing between your fingers and getting onto the front of your shirt and staining his jeans, but you keep your mouth on him. you nuzzle the head of his cock against the inside of your cheek, pull off just enough to suck so softly on the tip of him.
"baby, fuck--" simon chokes, watching you through lidded, hazy eyes. "please, fuck--"
"i want it," you whisper, smoothing a wet hand down his length. he's getting hard all over again, and he nearly cums a second time when you let your eyes find his and pepper kisses from the tip of him all the way to the base. "don't i get w-whatever i want, simon? c-can't i...can't i have more?"
simon chuckles a little. he uses his thumb to swipe a glob of cum off your chin, bringing it up to his own mouth to suck off with a snort.
"you want more, baby?" simon asks, and you sit back up on your knees, pressing your forehead to his as he eyes your lips. they're a tad swollen, kiss-bitten and wet. "wot more do ya want, hmm? wot is it my wife wants so much, huh?"
you smile, wide, those big eyes sparkling. you give him another slow stroke with your hand, and he hisses, gritting his teeth as he watches your smile get just that much bigger.
"i want you to stop playing games with me, simon," you say softly. "you'll never win. so just give me what i deserve."
"wot you deserve?"
"don't i deserve you, simon?" you ask, and when he fails to answer, you swipe your thumb over his cock, drawing a cracked groan out of him. "you won't make me beg, will you, simon?"
"no," simon pants, leaning further into you, pressing his face to yours. "never. my wife doesn't beg for anythin'."
"you promise, simon?"
"my wife gets woteva she fuckin' asks for. olways."
#mmmmmm#whatever i want.....#simon ghost riley#simon riley#simon ghost riley x reader#simon riley x reader#simon riley x you#ghost mw2#ghost cod#ghost call of duty#ghost mwii#ghost x reader#cod#call of duty#simon ghost riley smut#ghost smut#simon riley smut#order up
4K notes
·
View notes
Text
𝐆𝐄𝐍𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐍 𝐌𝐀𝐍 𝐀𝐒 𝐇𝐔𝐒𝐁𝐀𝐍𝐃 🥀🥀

Yandere genshin men being husband,
Characters : ayato, diluc, kaeya, zhongli, alhaitham, tartaglia, neuvillete, wriostheley.
AYATO
He would be a manipulative husband, he wants you to stay with him in meetings and basically wherever he goes, he will have high expectations for you if you ever lash out or you do not control your emotions, he will give you a glare and say that being a lady in the house should be filled with elegance and maturity not throw a tantrum like a child.
He will gift you expensive kimonos as well as high end jewelry, but he didn't give these gifts out of love, it worked as a collar and a sign of an ownership of you. He will also plan to baby trap you. He wants about 3-4 children or maybe more, if your body could keep up.
This was originally an arranged marriage form by him, your clan was on the brink of falling until the head of the kamisato clan offered your family an arranged marriage between you and him so your clan got to live, on your wedding day, that was the last time you saw them. You feel like a caged bird.
DILUC
He would totally see nothing wrong with his ways. You are only allowed to go out of the mansion or go to mondstat with him. He will see this as a way to keep you safe from the outside world. And every time you try to protest about it, he will bring out the excuse of keeping you safe.
He will expect you to give him a kiss or some physical contact from you 24/7, he will hug you like his life depends on it. Caressing your body. Using his vision to give you warmth during the cold nights. He also wants children but not yet until you're ready.
You were his fiance during his childhood, originally he always treats you as if you're a normal friend. Until his father's death he became clingy and during his trip out of mondstat, he said, when he came back from getting revenge you gotta be ready to married with him.
KAEYA
Kaeya would use his charming, manipulative and cunning behavior to isolate you, he would be playful and teasing you but he is also very possessive. he told you to just quit your job and let him take care of you.
He would also use his charms to flirt with some woman just to make you jealous, but if it's you with another man he will wrap his arms around your waist and kiss your cheek while giving the other party a subtle glare. And if you ask him to not flirt with another woman he would only if you promise not to talk to any other man.
You were originally a knight working under him, he would pass some flirting comments and would invite you to drink you with him in angel share. Originally you guys started a relationship and soon he proposed to you. But he's been very against you working as well just to stay as a stay at home wife for him.
ZHONGLI
Being married to the geo archon for centuries wasn't the life you expected, he was sweet and cared for you but sometimes it always feels like you're being suffocated by him to follow his routine. He expected you to be an obedient wife due to the contract that you have signed with him 3000 years ago.
Zhongli is a patient man, even when you lash on to him he will just stand there and look at you and ask are you done. Liyue has many tales of your love story change thru all of the centuries, but none of them once mention one of your accomplishments instead referring to you as his wife.
You were one of his servants that worked closely with him in the archon war, one of cloud retainers first disciple, ganyu was still a little girl during this time as well. And after when he wins the war becoming the archon of liyue he was allowed to be given any price he wants, and he picks you to be his price and his bride.
ALHAITHAM
He would be methodical and calculating, justifying his actions. He would already plan everything out, hes already planned everything before marrying you, calculating what's your schedule, how long will it take to date you until he proposed and he basically already planned everything before hand so everything could go perfectly.
He will maintain a perfect life around you making sure nothing goes wrong, making sure your diet consists of rich and nutrition enough for you to live long, say goodbye to those unhealthy junk food, I mean he would allow you to eat it but only once in a month.
You were a spantamad student, he will always find you sleeping at the library after completing your script, he originally wanted to wake you up but suddenly he stopped and sat next to the chair to your chair and for minutes he enjoys and soak up every feature of your face looking at if it's the most beautiful painting in the world. When you wake up he is already gone and planning your marriage.
TARTAGLIA
A so called or a wannabe shining armor for you, he has this persona or desire of wanting to be your knight and shining armor, he wants to whisk you away from the warm and comfort of your home to move you to a large palace, a cold and lonely palace isolating you from the world as well being a cage for you.
Tartaglia would buy you endless amounts of gifts every time when he's out on a voyage around the seven nations to fulfill the tsaritsa promise of a perfect world. he will be there every step to make sure that world will be fulfilled so you and him could live happily ever after.
Before every event that could lead him up at this point of his life. You and him were childhood friends or were simply forced to hang around due to both of your mothers being best friends, he would only want to play knight and shining armor while your the princess being trapped by a dragon and he comes to save you other then that he's favorite thing to play with you was playing house, him as the husband, you being the wife while his younger sibling who is a baby played as you guys pretend child.
Neuvillete
A refined and elegant gentleman, everyone in Fontaine is fond of you guys marriage, the ludex of Fontaine and his wife always voted number one couple in the steambird, articles of you guys small dates as well detailing on how romantic you guys are. Every time you go out he will guilt trip you to stay inside instead of going out.
Neuvillete will use emotional manipulation as well as guilt tripping to trap you inside the walls of his home, saying it was to ensure your safety. Every time when retrieved back from a trial or work he will personally ask to bath with you, it's the only thing to keep him calm and not worried about you. The melusine sees neuvillete as their father figure and they also see you as their mother figure.
Originally an oceanid that manages to retain their pure form and memory even after egeria turn every oceanid to live as a human and was a loyal servant to the first hydro archon, Egeria. Originally you were against being turned into a human wanting to serve your archon for eternity but During the arrival of Neuvillete you were offered to him as a spouse or a companion to stay by his side forever.
Wriostheley
A confident and head strong husband, he allows you to go outside but since it's the fortress of meriopede there isn't much to see inside as well for being safe due to the criminals that are being kept in line by your husband, so it's unwise to go outside his sight.
The entire fortress as well the staff calls you duchess due to your status of being married to him, you hated that title making you feel as if you were just an object that is held dear by the duke of the fortress, he always find it amusing to this nickname because it means people knew who you belong to for him the title of duchess is a sign or mark that you belong to him.
Originally a prisoner who was accused of a crime that you didn't commit, during lunch time you were eating this prisoner is sitting beside the table you were sitting and decide to make new friends during your time in jail, the prisoner was surprised for your present and ask why are you sitting with you gave him a blunt answer and he laughs and he ask you do you know who he is and you replied with a no, soon that day a Friendship blossom between you and him, until a new comer guard exposed his identity for being the duke, unfortunately it's already to late he has already fallen into a hole of love and obsession over you
#yandere genshin impact#genshin impact#yander wriostheley#yandere alhaitham#yandere ayato#yandere diluc#yandere zhongli#yandere neuvillette#yandere kaeya#yandere genshin#yandere genshin x reader#genshin x reader#yandere#yandere imagines#yandere x reader#yandere x you#wriothesely x reader#neuvillete x reader#ayato x reader#zhongli x reader#tartaglia x reader#childe x reader#alhaitham x reader#wriothesley#tartaglia#neuvillete#ayato kamisato#zhongli#kaeya#genshin impact x reader
2K notes
·
View notes
Text
Going To The Chapel | Arthur Leclerc x Reader
Summary: A glimpse into life with Arthur Leclerc since your engagement.
Warnings: Fluff. Marriage. Pregnancy. Suggestive comments
Requested: Yes by @1800-love-me . requested newlyweds/new dad arthur
F1 Masterlist
━━━━ ༻𖥸༺ ━━━━
yn_ln just posted



liked by lilymhe, oscarpiastri and others
yn_ln i had the most amazing weekend with my girls. thank you for planning such a relaxing time away. only one week left until i marry the love of my life tagged: alexandrasaintmleux, bestfriend, charlotte2304
1,617 comments
charles_leclerc i’m still disappointed that i wasn’t invited :(
→ alexandrasaintmleux you had a bachelor party to go to, mon coeur
→ charles_leclerc yeah but they didn’t have matching robes
→ arthur_leclerc i offered to wear matching underwear with you?
bestfriend thank you for not saying “only one week until you marry your best friend” because i would’ve had to kill myself, and then you
→ yn_ln oh
arthur_leclerc my beautiful girl. i cannot wait to marry you
→ yn_ln counting down the days until i can call myself your wife
→ user1 ugh, i need a love like these two
alexandrasaintmleux you’re going to make the most beautiful bride
→ yn_ln once i work off the hangover you inflicted on me
→ alexandrasaintmleux you didn’t have to keep drinking the prosecco
→ yn_ln you didn’t have to keep topping my glass up!
→ bestfriend she was getting you drunk enough that you would agree to run away with her and not marry arthur
→ arthur_leclerc hey!
charles_leclerc just posted



liked by carlossainz55, scuderiaferrari and others
charles_leclerc a day full of tears and joy. i’m so proud of you, little brother. and beautiful yn, you have been part of this family since arthur first brought you home to us but now we can officially call you leclerc 🤍
5,516 comments
user2 love how he posted an individual pic of yn but not his brother
→ yn_ln i’m the family favourite out of the two of us
→ arthur_leclerc i would disagree but you are my favourite
user3 i love how close charles would’ve had to get for that veil pic
→ alexandrasaintmleux we did have to keep dragging him away from them
→ charles_leclerc i’m just so happy!
francisca.cgomes the most beautiful bride
user4 i love that photo of the two of them sat at the table together
→ charles_leclerc thank you. i had to sneak back to get it but it was just the two of them in their own little world
→ yn_ln i was telling him how desperate i was to get out of my dress
→ user5 and he was telling you how desperate he was to get you out of your dress?
→ arthur_leclerc yes
lorenzotl i love you both so much. welcome to the family, yn 🩷
user6 oh okay. this has reminded me of how alone i am
user7 the cutest couple!
yn_leclerc just posted



liked by charles_leclerc, francisca.cgomes and others
yn_leclerc sand, sea and a new surname 🏖️
2,347 comments
user8 she changed her name!
charles_leclerc did you do anything other than kiss? geez
→ pierregasly it’s their honeymoon. i bet they did a lot more than kiss
→ charles_leclerc ew
user9 look, we all know you spent the honeymoon shagging each other but you didn’t need to post proof
→ user10 and to think these are the photos they thought were acceptable to share liked by yn_leclerc
arthur_leclerc my favourite place will always be beside you
→ yn_leclerc i may not let you leave
→ oscarpiastri married arthur is a cheesy arthur
alexandrasaintmleux i’m loving these photos!
→ yn_leclerc maybe you should be next
→ charles_leclerc don’t give her ideas!
user11 oh a leclerc thirst trap was not what i was expecting
user12 is this pr approved?
━━━━ ༻𖥸༺ ━━━━
arthur_leclerc just posted



liked by oscarpiastri, pierregasly and others
arthur_leclerc coming soon. baby leclerc
3,549 comments
alexandrasaintmleux i’m so excited for baby leclerc to arrive. is it bad that i’ve already bought loads of clothes?
→ charlotte2304 competing for favourite aunty already, i see
→ yn_leclerc favourite aunty will be whichever one of you gets me a drink first when baby is here
user1 the charles leclerc project is happening
→ scuderiaferrari we are already having a mini f1 car made
user2 you’ve only been married 6 months
→ user2 oh
→ user3 honeymoon baby
charles_leclerc i’m so glad you finally told people. the amount of baby ferrari gear i’ve had made that i have wanted to post
charles_leclerc i am going to make the best uncle
→ lorenzotl *second best uncle
yn_leclerc i didn’t realise having a baby was going to create a leclerc civil war
landonorris that is more of your wife than i wanted to see
→ arthur_leclerc just say congrats, mate
oscarpiastri i guess this means our affair is over
user4 somebody enjoyed their honeymoon a little too much
arthur_leclerc just posted



liked by logansargeant, scuderiaferrari and others
arthur_leclerc our baby girl was born late last night. she is happy and healthy, and yn is doing well
4,478 comments
yn_leclerc i love you, mon amour. i couldn't have done this without you
→ arthur_leclerc thank you for blessing me with the most amazing family
charles_leclerc can confirm, she also smells so good
alexandrasaintmleux she’s wearing the little booties i bought! please give baby and yn a huge hug from me
→ user5 you don’t get to meet baby?
→ alexandrasaintmleux i’m not currently in monaco but visiting them will be the first thing i do when i’m back
user6 girl dad arthur incoming!
charlotte2304 missing those baby cuddles already
→ yn_leclerc we’re home tomorrow so please come over
→ yn_leclerc you can cuddle baby whilst i have a wash 😂
user7 a baby girl!
francisca.cgomes you put my giraffe in the bed with her 🥹
→ pierregasly don’t let her meet baby leclerc, please. i’ve only just gotten her a puppy
→ yn_leclerc oh but how cute would a baby gasly be!
→ pierregasly no!
→ arthur_leclerc nobody warns you that your wife will be broody again the second she’s had a baby
→ yn_leclerc excuse me, i think you mean no one warns you that your husband will be begging you for a second baby
━━━━ ༻𖥸༺ ━━━━
yn_leclerc just posted






liked by francisca.cgomes, carlossainz55 and others
yn_leclerc in honour of mon bébé turning 1 yesterday, please enjoy some snippets of this past year. it has been both exhausting and incredible, and i couldn't have done it without my amazing family
2,091 comments
charles_leclerc i can’t believe my niece is one already. she’s growing too fast
→ arthur_leclerc which is why we should have a second one
→ charles_leclerc yes! that is a great idea
→ yn_ln this is why i don’t leave the two of you alone with her anymore
user8 that pic of arthur and baby leclerc sleeping?! never wanted kids before but now
→ user9 like he was cute before but now he’s a dilf?
→ yn_leclerc i can’t believe i just had to read that
→ arthur_leclerc you called me a dilf last night?
alexandrasaintmleux being aunty alex this past year has been the best part of my adult life
→ yn_ln you can take her for the week if you like. she’s teething so…
→ user10 haha this is so real if you’re a mum
pierregasly who let charles wear that goofy hat
user11 omg charles and baby leclerc though
arthur_leclerc why have you never shown me that photo of us sleeping! she’s literally smiling in her sleep from my cuddles! mon coeur! how could you keep this from me
arthur_leclerc what other photos have you been keeping from me
arthur_leclerc i’m not helping you make a second one until you show me all the photos
→ yn_leclerc does that mean i get a break from you?
→ arthur_leclerc now people are going to think i mount you all the time
→ charles_leclerc ew why did you word it that way liked by yn_leclerc
━━━━ ༻𖥸༺ ━━━━
requests are open
tag list
@peachiicherries @rosecentury @c-losur3 @heavy-vettel @evie-119 @raizelchrysanderoctavius @lilorose25
#formula 1#f1#formula 1 smau#f1 smau#formula 1 social media au#f1 social media au#formula one social media au#formula 1 imagine#formula 1 drabble#formula 1 fluff#formula 1 x reader#formula one imagine#formula one fluff#formula one x reader#f1 imagine#f1 drabble#f1 one shot#f1 fluff#f1 x reader#arthur leclerc#arthur leclerc imagine#arthur leclerc drabble#arthur leclerc one shot#arthur leclerc fluff#arthur leclerc smau#arthur leclerc x reader
1K notes
·
View notes
Text

that old cliché.
you swore you’d never give in to the maid of honour and best man cliche. and then you met evan buckley.
evan buckley x female reader
warnings - smut. cursing. alcohol. buck’s a filthy flirt.
word count - 6k
authors note - and so she returns!! thank you all so much for your loveliness on my post about my break - I appreciate it more than you know. this one was so much fun to write. i’ve not written any longer stuff for buck, but he’s a character I feel that I have a really good understanding of - I actually think we’re very alike - so this came so easy. hope you love it as much as I do. <3
masterlist. inbox.

Silvery melodies of laughter clink off the rim of the champagne flute you hold in your freshly manicured hand. As the gentle breeze whips through the material of your dress, you look around you, realising you’ve never seen so many people so happy at once.
The backyard of the Italian villa is packed, dozens of guests milling around - dancing, drinking, chatting and catching up. Family, friends, colleagues; people from every phase of the bride and grooms life, all celebrating together in one place.
A rocks glass is placed down onto the table in front of you with a thud. Looking up, you’re met with the sight of the best man towering over you expectantly with a drink in his hand.
“Evan.”
“Hi gorgeous.”
You scoff, staring up at him through your lashes.
“What’s this?”
“A drink.”
“Yeah. But why?”
“It’s whiskey. I watched you grimace every time you had to drink the champagne, so I thought you’d want something different.”
You swirl the glass, listening to the tinkle of the ice against the sides.
“You were watching me, huh?”
“Of course I was. Can’t take my eyes off you in that dress.”
“Shut up,” you chide, fighting to keep the grin off your face. “I’m not doing this with you.”
“Doing what, exactly?”
“The whole best man and maid of honour thing. It’s just too cliched.”
He laughs all hearty and genuine, and you poignantly ignore the way the butterflies start fluttering in your stomach.
“Then why do you keep looking at me like that?”
“Like what?”
“Like you want to eat me.”
Now it’s your turn to laugh, shaking your head at him.
“Yeah, right. In your dreams, Evan.”
“Oh, you will be,” he winks, knocking his glass against yours in a quick cheers before walking off to the find the groom.
You watch him go, not completely oblivious to the way his suit fits him just right. Determined to stand your ground, you inhale a deep breath before taking a sip of your drink. The drink that definitely isn’t exactly what you needed. The drink that he’d practically read your mind to figure out. Effortlessly.
✵ ✵ · ✵ * · ✵
It’s been like this all day.
You met Evan Buckley for the first time last night, at the rehearsal dinner. The bride, your best friend in the world, kept telling you that you’d love the best man.
“He’s from California,” she’d said. “He’s Danny’s friend from when they were kids. He’s a firefighter, babe. He’s hot.”
You’d laughed it off, zipping up the back of her dress while she watched you in the mirror.
“Oh, come on. That’s so cliched. The whole maid of honour and best man thing is so old, Lucy.”
“You’re single, he’s single,” she’d protested. “It’d do you some good to get laid, relieve some stress. And people let their guards down at weddings. Now’s your chance.”
“If I wanted to get laid, I’d get laid,” you scoffed.
“All I’m saying is that Buck is completely your type. He’s gorgeous, he’s funny, he’s sweet. And you’re gonna have to spend a fair bit of time together tonight and tomorrow, so… just keep an open mind.”
“Fine,” you soothed, rolling your eyes. “Mind wide open. Alright?”
“You’re gonna love him.”
“You said that already.”
“Because I really believe it. You’re gonna love him.”
And the problem is… she was kind of right.
No, you don’t love him. You’ve known him for 48 hours. But… there’s something.
Lucy wasn’t lying. He is gorgeous, and funny, and sweet. And hot. So hot. He showed up to the rehearsal dinner in dress pants and a linen shirt, all sun kissed and muscled and tanned and stunning.
The two of you were seated next to each other, planned so carefully by the bride and groom. One minute you were making cautious introductions, shaking hands and smiling gently. The next minute you were crying with laughter, clutching at his bicep as he grabs your thigh, legs intertwined and chairs pulled together.
Lucy and Danny nudge each other occasionally, watching the both of you get along like two old friends that have known each other forever. A look passes between them that says I told you so clear as day.
But you’re stubborn. Too stubborn, some may say. You know you’ll never hear the end of it from your friends if you give into this very alluring temptation, and perhaps your pride means a bit more to you than it should. So you resist, you refuse to give in. Even if you really want to.
And that was just last night. Today has been even worse.
By worse, you mean the connection between you and Evan has grown even stronger. You walked down the aisle with him, arm linked with his, both dressed up to the nines. The maid of honour and the best man, a perfect picture.
You haven’t been able to keep your hands off each other all day. Little touches - his fingers on the small of your back, your grip on his bicep, shoulders brushing and thighs pressed together. Nothing crazy, but nothing meaningless, either. There’s an undeniable electricity buzzing between you, hot and alive.
You’re not sure how much longer you can deny it.
✵ ✵ · ✵ * · ✵
You’re dancing with Lucy and her little nieces when you hear yelling and commotion coming from the other side of the dance floor. Looking over, you see Danny, Evan and other groomsmen flailing around and fussing.
“What happened?” Lucy’s yelling, making her way over with you in tow.
“Just a drink spillage, Luce! But it’s red wine, and now Buck’s shirt is pink.”
You look at the man in question and can’t help but laugh. His crisp white dress shirt is now a pretty shade of pink across the front, his cheeks a rosy colour to match.
“Stop laughing,” he chides, but he’s grinning at you as he says it. “I need to go and change. I have a spare shirt in my suitcase upstairs.”
He starts to leave, but soon turns around and calls your name.
“I don’t have a key for that big door at the end of the hallway to get to our rooms. Do you?”
“Yeah, it’s in my purse. You want it?”
“Just come with me. It’ll be easier.”
Before you can argue, he’s taken off, big strides across the garden. You have to practically run in your heels to keep up with him, shaking your head in frustration.
“I could have just given you this,” you say when you reach the door, unlocking it for him.
“Where’s the fun in that?”
The smirk he gives you is so cheeky, it’s a wonder you don’t smack it off his face. Cocky bastard.
“You’re so annoying,” you mumble, walking with purpose to his room.
“Come in with me? It’ll only take a minute, then we can walk back together.”
You know you should say no, tell him that you’ll meet him downstairs. But you don’t. Instead, you say,
“Fine. But hurry up. I don’t wanna miss the party.”
“Yes ma’am,” he mock salutes, unlocking the door to his room that’s conveniently directly across from yours.
You take a seat on the edge of the bed, trying to avoid watching him undress. He shrugs off his now pink shirt, taking it with him into the bathroom.
You’re surprised at how tidy everything is. Not that you think Evan would be particularly messy, but he doesn’t strike you as a neat and clean type. His suitcase is unpacked into the closet, bed made, nothing on the floor. It only makes you like him more.
“Can you grab my other shirt from the closet please, gorgeous? The one I wore last night for the rehearsal dinner.”
You swing the two doors open and rifle around, failing to see the linen button up that he’s looking for. Suddenly, you feel a warmth behind you, Buck’s solid form caging you in. He reaches around you, arm brushing yours as he finds what he needs.
“Found it,” he murmurs into your ear, all low and honeyed.
Against your better judgment, you turn around, finding yourself face to face with him. He towers over you, watching your reactions carefully. Your hands reach out and rest on his bare chest, steadying yourself before you either fall over or pass out.
Buck gently traces your bottom lip with his thumb, eyes completely locked on yours. You have to resist every urge to either bite it or suck it into your mouth, reminding yourself that now isn’t the time. The noise from the garden floats up and through the window that’s cracked open slightly, tethering you to the reality that is slowly fading away the longer you hold Evan’s gaze.
He leans in, and to your surprise, doesn’t kiss you immediately. Pressing his forehead to yours, he inhales deeply, as if committing the moment to memory. His thumbs are now tracing gentle circles on your jaw, soft and callous at the same time. You inhale slowly, processing the scent of his cologne mixed with the evening breeze. If you could bottle it up, you think, you’d be a millionaire. This would cure everything.
Buck finally closes down the gap between you, inching towards your lips softly. You shut your eyes, waiting for him to finally kiss you - when there’s deafening knocking on the door. The two of you jump apart, hearts pounding and nerves on a live wire.
Evan strides over to the source of the noise, taking a deep breath to try and compose himself as he goes. You perch on the edge of the bed, smoothing down your dress and attempting to look as inconspicuous as possible.
“Buck? Dude, it’s Jake. Hurry up, yeah? The guys wanna do our dance routine before everyone gets too drunk to remember it.”
He doesn’t bother opening the door, just yells back through the wood.
“Yeah, sure - I’ll be down in a minute!”
You hear Jake’s footsteps retreat, both of you exhaling the breaths you didn’t know you’d been holding. Buck looks at you, worried that the moment’s been ruined, to find you stifling a laugh behind your hand.
“There’s a dance routine?”
“Shut up,” he grumbles, fighting to keep the grin off his face. “We created it years ago. The guys won’t let it die.”
“Oh, I can’t wait to see this.”
You’re cackling, reclining onto the duvet as you laugh.
“Stop,” he groans, jumping over to flop onto his back on the bed next to you. “I did a lot of regrettable things in college… and that routine is definitely the worst of it.”
“I hope you know that you’re never going to live this down, Buckley. I’ll be reminding you of this forever.”
“Oh yeah?” he asks, propping himself up on his elbow so he can look at you. “You really like me, huh?”
“What the hell gave you that impression?”
“You said forever. What’s next, honey? You gonna get down on one knee later?”
You’re suddenly aware of the warmth of the whiskey flowing through your veins, giving you a liquid confidence that stuns both you and the man lying next to you.
“Two knees, maybe. But not one.”
His eyes go wide as you smirk, pulling yourself off the bed and making your way over to the door. Buck watches you carefully, gaze steady and firm.
“You coming? I’m more than ready to see those moves of yours.”
He stands up, slipping on his shoes and shrugging the clean shirt onto his broad shoulders. You grab your purse, leaning against the doorframe as you wait.
Evan reaches past you for the door handle, nose purposely brushing yours as he does it.
“I’ll hold you to what you said before,” he murmurs, moving a strand of hair away from your face softly. “Don’t think I won’t.”
You look up at him with big doe eyes, like butter wouldn’t melt.
“Sure, Evan,” you reply lowly. “I’ll believe it when I see it.”
Breaking away from him, you swing the door open, strutting down the hallway without looking back. Your confidence has sky rocketed, knowing that he wants this just as badly as you do. You walk back out to the garden and take your earlier seat, ready for the show you’ve been promised.
✵ ✵ · ✵ * · ✵
The dance routine is spectacular.
It’s cheesy and hilarious and very early 2000s inspired - it’s almost like watching a music video from a boy band you loved when you were a teenager. It should embarrass you, turn you off majorly, but… it doesn’t. It only does the opposite.
Everything Buck does makes you like him more.
You spend the rest of the evening dancing, laughing, and floating on cloud nine. In a garden in Italy, surrounded by your best friends - you can’t think of anywhere else you’d rather be.
As the evening dwindles to an end, everyone slowly begins making their way back to their rooms within the villa. You sit down, unbuckling your heels to finally give your feet a rest. It almost feels like deja vu when a rocks glass is placed down in front of you on the table.
“Hi, Evan.”
“Hi gorgeous.”
“What’s this?”
“A drink.”
“Yes, but why?”
He pulls out the chair in front of you and sits down, looking at you intently.
“Thought we could have a nightcap before we go upstairs.”
You look around to find that mostly everyone has decided to call it a day. You can see Lucy and Danny walking off hand in hand, going for a stroll around the grounds before they let the wedding officially be over. It just leaves you and Buck, sat in your original places.
“Is this Baileys?”
“Yes ma’am. Do you like it? I figured you probably wouldn’t want another whiskey, seeing as you’ve had so many.”
You scoff, trying to fight the grin that threatens to take over your face.
“I’ve had, like, four, thank you very much.”
He holds his hands up in mock surrender, making you chuckle as you shake your head.
“Cheers, Evan,” you toast, clinking your glass against his matching one. “We did it. A wedding without a hitch. Mostly.”
“My shirt will never be white again, but besides that, we did a pretty good job.”
“We make a good team.”
He looks slightly taken aback by your honesty, trying to hide his smirk.
“Yes, we do. A super hot, super funny team.”
“A super hot, super funny team.”
You both laugh, heads thrown back with no cares in the world. Buck shuffles his chair forward so his legs are slotted on either side of you, warm skin radiating into yours. The moonlight is glinting off of his cheekbones, illuminating the light streaks in his hair. You’re a little tipsy and much too tired to fully fight your feelings anymore.
He’s beautiful, and you’re sick of denying it.
The two of you finish off your drinks, sat in a comfortable silence beneath the starry night sky. His hand has found its way onto your thigh, thumb rubbing gentle patterns into your bare skin. You’re sneaking glances at him when he looks away, admiring the way he’s glowing, buzzed off of the alcohol and the excitement of the day. He’s doing the same with you, soft smile etched onto his face as he watches you gaze up at the stars above your heads.
A yawn escapes you, making both of you chuckle.
“I’ll walk you to your room?”
“Well, you better. I’m the only one of us with a key for that big door.”
He laughs even harder, shaking his head.
“Yeah, I forgot about that. If you weren’t here, I’d have slept on the floor in the hallway or something.”
“Probably wouldn’t be the first time,” you mutter, standing up and tucking your chair under the table.
“Sorry, what was that? Say it again? Hmm? Hmm?” he wraps his arms around your middle, spinning you so your feet are no longer on the floor.
“Okay, okay! Put me down before I throw up,” you shriek, giggling like a teenager.
He places you back down, hands on your hips to steady you. You look up at him, keeping your eyes fixed on his to steady yourself from the dizziness. When you feel ready to go, you clear your throat, willing yourself to walk away before you kiss him stupid.
“We should go to bed,” you whisper, afraid to ruin the moment.
“Yeah?”
“Separate beds,” you tell him sternly, chuckling when he cackles.
“Yes ma’am.”
Buck walks you back to your room in a gentlemanly fashion, looping your arm through his to keep you both upright. When you reach your door, your fingers linger on the handle, as if you’re not quite ready to go inside just yet.
Reaching out gently, he moves a strand of hair from your face, fingertips brushing your cheekbone as he does it. You sigh softly, eyes fluttering shut at the sweet contact.
“Goodnight, gorgeous,” he murmurs lowly. “Sweet dreams.”
“Goodnight.”
He takes a step back towards his door when you speak again.
“Evan?”
“Hmm?”
“Thank you.”
“For?”
“Everything, today. You’ve been a damn good best man.”
“Well, thank you. For being the best maid of honour.”
You nod, smiling like an idiot as you unlock your door and shut it behind you. You take a deep breath when you’re finally inside, throwing down your heels onto the floor and your purse onto the side table. Reaching behind you, your fingers tug at the zipper on your dress, attempting to pull it down.
It’s only now you realise your dilemma. The zipper is on an awkward place on your back, right where you can’t get to. You think quickly back to this morning - one of the bridesmaids doing the dress up for you, pulling the material taut as she fastened it. You’re not going to be able to get this off yourself.
Finding the purse that you discarded minutes earlier, you aim to find a hair clip. If you can loop a bobby pin into the zipper, you think, you might be able to pull it yourself. You root around in it for a second, before pulling out two phones.
Well, fuck.
You’d completely forgotten that Evan had given it to you earlier in the evening, worried that it was going to get broken if it stayed in his back pocket. You’d tucked it away and not thought about it again.
Until now.
Now, you’re realising that you’re going to have to go and give it back. He probably hasn’t remembered that you have it, otherwise you’re sure he’d be knocking on the door or yelling across the hallway.
You stand in the middle of your room, with two phones and a stuck zipper, wondering if the universe thinks this is funny.
You’re certainly not laughing.
✵ ✵ · ✵ * · ✵
“Evan?”
He swings the door open, facing you in his suit trousers with no shirt on.
“Hey. You okay?”
“Yeah. I, uh, I have your phone.”
Holding it out to him, his fingertips brush yours as he takes it from you, sending a shiver up your spine.
“Oh, shit. I forgot about this. Thanks, pretty.”
“Of course.”
You stand and look at each other for a second, so much left unsaid.
“Can I ask you for a favour?”
“Anything.”
His instantly willingness has butterflies fluttering in your stomach, flitting and lightweight and undeniable.
“Can you help me get my dress off?”
When he smirks and goes to speak, you cut him off quickly.
“The zipper is stuck, Evan. Alice zipped me up this morning and I can’t undo it by myself.”
“This is a very long winded way of asking me to get you naked, gorgeous.”
You scoff, rolling your eyes.
“If that’s what I wanted, I would just ask you, Buckley.”
“Uh huh. Sure.”
“Can you help me or not?”
He’s laughing, now, head thrown back with it. You hate the way it makes your heart sing.
“You coming in? Or you want me to undress you in the hallway?”
“You’re not undressing- fuck, you’re annoying.”
He’s still chuckling when he ushers you inside, shutting the door firmly behind you both.
“How do you wanna do this? Lights on, lights off? Curtains open or shut? Music? Candles?”
“Undo the damn zipper before I smack you.”
His laughter is rumbling through his chest, contagious in its nature. You want to be angry at him, but you just can’t seem to find it in you.
“Turn around, gorgeous.”
You spin to face the door, taking a deep breath as you anticipate his touch. You feel his warmth behind you, fingertips dancing over the skin of your shoulders before they reach your zipper. You can’t see him, but you can envisage the sight - his broad chest, thick neck, that beautiful sun kissed glow he’s developed over the past few days. Your lungs heave as the room suddenly feels like it’s a thousand degrees.
Buck slides the zipper down your back slowly, with intent and clarity. When it reaches your coccyx, he stops, resting his other hand on your hip to keep you steady.
You know you should step away, maybe throw him a quick thanks as you leave. But you do believe in fate, whether you like to admit it or not - and this entire night has felt like it’s been written in the stars.
Who are you to deny what the universe is so clearly gifting you?
You let your arms relax, sighing as the dress falls off of you and down to the floor. You step out of it, finally turning around to face Buck wearing nothing but your lacy white underwear. Surprisingly, there’s not an ounce of self consciousness in your body. The only thing you feel is desire.
For the first time since you’ve met him, Evan is completely speechless. His eyes rove over you, drinking in the sight in front of him, and he has to remind himself to breathe.
“You’re the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen,” he whispers in awe, fingers itching to reach out and touch you. “The minute I first saw you, I couldn’t believe you were real.”
“Evan?”
“Yeah?”
“Touch me, please.”
He grins, surging forward to cup your cheek with one hand while the other finds its home on your waist.
“Can I kiss you?”
“Please.”
“Finally.”
Buck leans in and presses his lips to yours surprisingly gently, testing the waters. You tangle your fingers into his hair, pulling him as close as possible. He gets the message, reeling you in and deepening the kiss until you can’t tell where he ends and you begin.
You’re being walked backwards and into the wall, pushed up against it for leverage. You hike a leg up over Bucks hip, groaning when the two of you grind forwards at the same time. His hands are everywhere - your face, tits, ass, waist - anywhere he can reach. It’s like he’s not quite sure where he wants them, as if he’s worried he’ll leave somewhere untouched.
“You’re all I’ve thought about for two days,” he’s muttering into your neck as he leaves open mouthed kisses on your skin. “Driving me crazy.”
“I got myself off last night,” you breathe, eyes fluttering shut when he sucks at the spot under your ear. “Thinking about you.”
“Fuck,” he moans, sinking down to his knees in front of you. “Tell me more. Please.”
It’s almost biblical, the sight of him. On his knees, practically begging, looking up at you like you’re his saviour. You’re dizzy with the power, blood rushing straight to your head.
Buck presses kisses into your leg, starting at your calves and moving up. When he gets to your inner thigh, he gazes up at you, pleading with his eyes for you to continue.
“Tell me more or I’ll stop,” he says sternly, hooking his fingers into your underwear to pull them down and off.
“Okay, okay,” you pant, dropping your head back against the wall. “I, I- I couldn’t stop thinking about your arms in that shirt. The, the, the-”
You’re stuttering as he licks a stripe up your core, diving in with no hesitation. His fingers are gripping your thighs so hard you know it’ll bruise, and you can’t wait to feel the imprints in the morning.
“The?”
He’s pulled away to look at you with his brow quirked, dirty smirk etched across his face.
“Keep going, gorgeous. You haven’t even got to the good part. Neither of us have.”
You scoff at him in defiance, but slide your fingers into his hair to tug him back to where you want him.
“You looked so strong,” you continue, sighing when his tongue finds your core again. “Kept thinking about how easily you could throw me around. Pick me up, sit me on your face…”
Buck groans, all deep and rumbled, and the vibrations have your legs going weak. He doubles down on his efforts, slipping his tongue inside as his nose nudges your clit. He’s a fast learner, taking mental note of the spots and pressures that make your knees buckle.
“Keep going,” he mumbles into your core.
“You keep going,” you retort, pulling at his hair.
He chuckles but obliges your request, sucking your clit into his mouth with purpose. You’re shaking, holding onto him for dear life as you reach your climax. The moan you let out is borderline pornographic, and it has Buck palming himself over his suit trousers with a groan.
“Fuck, Evan,” you pant, chest heaving as you slump into the wall. “You need to grab me before I collapse. My legs are jelly.”
Laughing as he does it, he stands up and wraps his arms around your middle, holding you against him as tightly as he can.
“You okay?” he asks, pressing a kiss into your hair.
“Better than ever.”
He rests his lips on your forehead, both of you breathing each other in for a moment.
“Can’t believe you were right across the hallway from me, trying to be quiet while you were getting yourself off,” he murmurs, fingers running up and down your back. “You should have come over here. I would have helped you.”
“Where’s the fun in that?” you tease, cupping his face in your hands. “I was still acting like I didn’t wanna rip your clothes off back then.”
“Knew you’d crack eventually,” he winks, grinning when you laugh.
You pull him into you for a kiss that’s all teeth and tongue, clearly telling him exactly what you want.
“You gonna fuck me, Evan? Or are we just gonna stand here all night?”
He shakes his head with a smirk before throwing you onto the bed, chuckling when you almost bounce back off. As he starts to crawl over to you, you stop him with a foot on his chest.
“Nuh uh. You’re wearing too many clothes. Strip, Buckley.”
“Yes ma’am.”
He’s standing up immediately, unbuttoning his pants and pulling them off in one fell swoop. His boxers are next, leaving him stood bare and beautiful in front of you.
“Fuck. You’re not real,” you breathe out, eyes dancing over him.
“Oh I am so real,” he’s reassuring, situating himself on top of you.
You wrap your legs around his waist, pulling him down so you can grind your hips into his.
“I’ve been waiting two days for this,” you murmur into his lips. “Make it worth my while, please.”
“Careful what you wish for,” he teases, kissing you again with such a force that you’re dizzy.
Buck sucks a bruise into your collarbone, licking a stripe up your sternum and tasting the salt that sits on your skin. Your patience is wearing thinner and thinner, anticipation bubbling up in your veins.
“How’d you want it?” he whispers into your ear.
“Just- deep. Wanna feel you for the rest of the weekend.”
He groans, a breathless chuckle leaving his lips.
“Anything you want, gorgeous. I’ll give you anything you want. Anything in the world.”
His lust drunk rambling makes you giggle, wiggling your hips into his to hopefully hurry him up. You tug at his hair, pulling his face so it’s level with yours.
“Now, Evan. Can’t wait any longer. Please.”
“Fuck. You’re so pretty when you beg.”
He lines himself up, pressing his forehead to yours as the two of you connect. He’s big and he’s stretching you out just right and you think you might have died and gone to heaven. You both groan, panting into each others mouths.
“Fuck, baby. It’s like you were made for me.”
The baby sends warmth running through both your core and your heart, all the signals setting your nervous system on fire.
“Please,” you whimper, kissing him with desperation as you tangle your fingers in his curls and pull. “Please, Evan.”
“I’ve got you,” he’s mumbling, pulling his hips back and sliding them forwards with clear intent.
Reaching up beside your head, Buck pulls a pillow down and situates it under your hips, putting you where he wants you.
“Want you to feel me as deep as possible,” he murmurs, tucking his head into the crook of your neck. “Won’t be able to walk tomorrow.”
You can only moan at the promise, praying he delivers. There’s a shiny sheen of sweat covering his sun kissed skin, making him glow in the moonlight like some sort of angel. Sent just for you.
Buck sets a steady rhythm, not too fast but just fast enough. He clearly knows what he’s doing, and you ignore the pang of jealousy in your chest at the idea of him with another woman, even in the past.
Now that you’ve had a taste of this, you don’t want to let it go.
He’s pressing kisses onto whatever skin he can reach - your neck, your collarbone, underneath your ear. His hips never cease, determined to get you both to where you need to be. When he hitches one of your legs over his waist, you can’t help but drop your head back, eyes fluttering shut at the new angle.
He tilts his hips upwards, and hits a spot that has you keening. Speech has left you, and all you can do now is take it like you were made for it.
“Right there? Yeah? That’s it, isn’t it?”
You nod frantically, sucking in a shuddering breath like you’ve been under water. Your legs have started to shake, and Buck’s grinning when he thinks about how far he can push you before you’re at your limit.
“Come on, pretty girl. Give it to me.”
You’re so close you can taste it, desperate to find this release that’s been building for the last forty eight hours. When Buck moves his hand from your hip to your throat and squeezes just slightly, you snap.
You’re coming with a breathless moan, back arching into him to plaster your fronts together.
“Shit, you look so beautiful when you come. Jesus.”
You manage a soft smile, looking up at him to see those bright eyes staring into yours. He looks entranced, as if he’s staring at a piece in an art gallery. You swipe his hair back from his sweaty forehead, teasing your thumb across his bottom lip. When he sucks it into his mouth, your jaw drops open, mind foggy with arousal.
“Think you can give me another one? Let me see you come all pretty again?” he asks around your digit, tongue laving over your skin.
“Mhmm,” you’re agreeing before you can even process it, eager to please.
“That’s my girl.”
He moves your fingers from his mouth back into his hair as his find your throat once more, applying a little pressure. His hips pick up their pace, faster and harder than before. He’s fucking you into the mattress, strong arms keeping you from sliding off the bed.
He looks breathtaking, on top of you like this. He’s so broad, towering over you like he’ll shield you from the entire world if he has to. It feels like it’s just the two of you in the whole universe, unbothered by anything or anyone else.
“Buck- I… I-”
“I know, baby. Can feel it. Atta girl.”
You pull him down to kiss you as you reach your third climax of the night, arms wrapping around his neck so every inch of you is pressed together.
“There we go, good girl. That’s it, yeah. It’s yours, baby. It’s all yours.”
Buck finally finds his release, triggered by yours. His head drops into your neck, his frantic breath tickling your skin. You murmur sweet nothings into his ear, talking him through it as he shudders and shakes. Eventually, he collapses completely onto you, body weight pinning you down.
You’re both heaving for air, lungs burning as you try to regain an ounce of composure.
He murmurs something into your shoulder, the vibrations of it rumbling through your bones.
“Hmm?”
“You called me Buck.”
A breathless laugh escapes you, silvery and melodic.
“I’ve been trying not to for two days.”
“I know. You thought you were making a point.”
“I was making a point.”
“Sure, honey. Sure.”
“I hate you,” you grumble, but you can’t wipe the grin off your face. “I also hate that we’ve just made Lucy and Danny the happiest people ever.”
“Oh, shit. I hate it when they’re right.”
He pulls his head from your neck to look at you, resting his cheek against your chest so he can gaze up and into your eyes.
“I’m sure we can keep this a secret for a little while.”
“Yeah… we can’t.”
You quirk your brow at him in a silent question.
“I told Danny I was gonna marry you the minute you walked into the rehearsal dinner in that red dress. Can’t hide how I feel about you, gorgeous. It’s physically impossible.”
You can’t help but laugh, running your fingers through his hair to scratch at his scalp.
“Take me on a date first. Then we’ll talk about marriage, okay?”
“You did say forever, earlier.”
“That I did. Maybe my heart knew something my brain didn’t.”
Buck grins up at you, all blinding and giddy.
“The best man and the maid of honour, huh?”
“That old cliche,” you chuckle. “We weren’t the first, and we won’t be the last.”
“You’ll be my last, gorgeous.”
“Real smooth, Buck. Real smooth.”
“Buck,” he whispers, half in amusement, half in awe.
He could get used to this. You both could.

as always, reblogs are like gold to writers. if you enjoyed this, please reblog!! it’s invaluable <3
@peachysink @jjamjamie @alipap3 @spookyysinsanity @sophiah2253 @annaaaaanguyenn
#evan buckley fluff#evan buckley smut#evan buckley x reader fluff#evan buckley x reader smut#evan buckley x reader#evan buckley x you#evan buckley x y/n#evan buckley imagine#911 smut#911 fluff#911 x reader smut#911 x you#911 x reader#911 imagine#911 fic#buck x reader#buck 911 smut#buck 911 fluff#evan buckley#buck 911#best man!evan buckley x maid of honor!reader
2K notes
·
View notes
Text
“KEEP THE PRIEST! WEDDING NO.2 STARTS!”
— gojo, sukuna, nanami, geto & toji when you catch the bouquet at a wedding (f!reader)


a/n: if you don't have a cousin then now you do and thanks for being patient with me everyone! <3

GOJO SATORU:
a family member of yours was finally getting married—something you never thought would happen since she was always complaining about all her boyfriends, but hey at least someone finally did it.
anyway, naturally, you took your dear boyfriend as your date.
the wedding was going smoothly, drinks were exchanged, food was distributed, and cakes were eaten—much to your lover’s delight.
another thing that kept happening is people trying to introduce their daughters to satoru.
his instant response was to wrap an arm around your shoulder and pull you close to him, kissing your cheek and chirping a “sorry, but I am happily taken!”
now it was time for the part that a lot of people wait for: the bouquet throw.
your cousin was already crazy, so she has been waiting for it so she can throw the bouquet with all her might. on the other hand ,you and the other ladies were lined up and patiently waited.
one swing, two swings, one faint throw, and finally the bouquet was thrown into the air, heading towards its next owner.
a chorus of ‘its mine! mine!’ filled the room, but relentless, you maneuvered your way into finally catching the bouquet in your hands.
you’ve won the battle.
but wait. it seems like there is a contestant that won’t back down.
“let go of that bouquet, young lady!”
you look behind you and gasps, it is—“satoru?!”
“yes, satoru!” your boyfriend huffs, making his way towards you.
he firmly takes a stance in front of you, contrasting his intimidating position with his infamous pout, “it’s not fair for you to take the bouquet!”
you sway your hip to the side sassily, “does it make a difference? we’re getting married either way!”
your boyfriend shakes his head, “no, babe!” he places his hands on his chest, pushing his theatrics till the top, “I need to be the star!”
he crumbles to the floor and you merely stare at him in silence.
you see your cousin approach you and your boyfriend, “first of all, I am the star, and second, if you don’t stop fighting, I am taking the bouquet back.”
your boyfriend gasps clinging to your legs, “babe, your cousin is super mean!”
you pat his head with a sigh and he happily presses a kiss to your thigh. what a taxing man to be with.
“sweets, I wanna pee.”
taxing child.
RYOMEN SUKUNA:
your boyfriend was—surprisingly—invited to a friend’s wedding, which he hated as he was planning on taking you to a stargazing sight because you’ve been talking about it ever since you saw it multiple times on tiktok.
so, here you are with your boyfriend put into a suit by force.
you’re pretty sure that he is going to rip it any moment, but you would rather he does that when you’re both alone: you don’t necessarily mind a show.
anyway, you are sat with your dear lover who hasn’t stopped frowning since you’ve entered the darn hall.
the only good social thing he has done so far is greeting the groom and the bride. other than that, his hand never left yours and he stuck by you.
it’s cute, though, even if he argues that he is anything but.
you hear them announce that they’re finally throwing the bouquet so you give sukuna a quick peck then run to reserve your space.
now, you get very competitive in certain things, and this is certainly one of them. you will be going home with that bouquet.
and true to your goal, the moment the bouquet is at a height you can reach, you jump at it, holding on for dear life.
your feet reach the ground once again, and you raise your hand in victory, “I did it!”
you don’t see sukuna rolling his eyes fondly and with a proud grin that screams ‘that’s my girl’.
after a bit of applause, you quickly turn to your boyfriend and walk towards his table, radiating with confidence.
you place the bouquet on the table then you lean on your elbows, “I caught the bouquet,” you wink, “what do you think?”
“of course, you would get it,” he hums, “you’re mine, and I don’t settle for less than the best.”
you roll your eyes and lean towards him, swirling the drink that you stole from him, “it’s quite the commitment that we’re getting into,” you then look and lock eyes with him, “think you can handle that?”
“there’s nothing I can’t handle, loser.”
you giggle before cooing, “aww, you love me so much,” he gently shoves you, before his arm is wrapped around your waist, pulling you back towards him.
“I tolerate you.”
“so love!”
“no.”
NANAMI KENTO:
jingling bells, clicking heels, steaming food, and loving couples including you and your dear boyfriend fill today’s wedding hall.
a mutual friend of yours and nanami finally tied the knot with their lover, and you were happily invited.
it was a never ending party of laughter and happy tears—that you efficiently hid by burying your face in your boyfriend’s chest.
things calmed down a bit, leaving you to fangirl about how cute your friend is to nanami.
“but kento, she looked so cute! she is so pretty! he better not hurt her!”
nanami keeps munching on his bread, “I think she is capable of handling that herself.”
you cross your arms with a huff, “what do you mean?”
“she is carrying a shotgun.”
“oh, you right,” you acknowledge, before running towards the dance floor when you see your friend about to throw the bouquet, “f/n, you better not throw that until I tell you!”
“if you don’t get then you just have a major skill issue!”
you gasp, taking a battle stance in the middle of the of the dance floor. you hear your friend giggle, before she finally throws the bouquet into the air.
from then, it’s a cat fight between you and the rest of the people.
however, you come out as victorious then excitedly running towards nanami, “kento! kento! did you see me?”
“mhm, you looked lovely as always,” he chuckles, giving you his full attention.
you giggle, taking a seat beside him. you start talking about your fight(?) to get the bouquet while nanami stealthily takes a plate of your favourite snacks from the buffet and slides it to you.
you gasp, pressing a quick kiss to his cheek, “thank you, love!”
he hums, eyeing the bouquet, “you know,” then he says, fidgeting with his watch a little, “I can get you a better bouquet if you want—with a side of a ring, of course.”
you were about to finally dig in, but your brain quickly short circuits at his comment, “oh.”
slowly, you turn to him, feeling your face get warmer by the second.
he laughs lightly, hand coming to rest on yours, “I am not joking,” he pulls your hand up for a small peck, “I am just waiting for the right time so please be patient with me.”
GETO SUGURU:
the moment the vows were exchanged, music was blasted to the roof, and everyone was partying to the max.
your cousin, the bride, is dancing to the beat with vigor and excitement you’ve never seen before.
you would like to join her, but geto just won’t let you since he knows that you will somehow end up drunk off your mind and dancing on one of the tables.
so you’re sat with him right now, sulking and glaring at him.
“babe, don’t be so sad now, please? I am only doing this so you don’t accidentally hurt yourself.”
you huff and turn your back on him, “I am a full-functioning adult; thank you very much!”
his hand slowly inches towards yours, “the prettiest full-functioning adult,” he smiles, pulling his chair closer to you. “and the smartest too, did you know that?”
you almost give into his advances—his charming smile is far too lethal—but you’ve developed a bit of immunity to his actions.
so instead, you face him with a teasing smile, “I would love if you tell me more—after I successfully steal the bouquet.”
“steal?”
you roll your eyes, “acquire.”
he laughs lightly, and you take it as your cue to run towards the group of women huddled behind your cousin.
you stand proudly, “c/n, throw your bouquet!”
“no!”
“what?!”
“just kidding!”
and so the bouquet flies and ‘accidentally’ lands in your hands—it’s no accident; you’ve been training your entire life for this moment.
people whoop and applaud, and you bow to audience, before scurrying to your darling boyfriend.
you wave the bouquet in your hand, and he nods knowingly, “guess you’re never get rid of me,” you muse, hugging the bouquet to your chest, “what a pity, right?”
he looks at you confused then sighs with a smile, “I never planned to, but okay.”
you beam at him and throw your arms around him, and he laughs, hugging you closer.
you trace shapes on his back and murmur, “you’re way too cute for your own good.”
“I need to charm you one way or another, you know,” he replies, motioning for the waiter to get you two more drinks.
he stays silent for a moment, “you can go get hammered—“
“not!”
“okay, not hammered with your cousin.”
“yay!” you scream joyously and run away.
guess who ended up drunk and dancing on a table.
FUSHIGURO TOJI:
toji and a wedding?
it’s a combination most would not expect, but it isn’t his wedding anyway, so he can’t complain about it being too much commitment right now.
the only thing he can complain about is being put into this ‘suffocating’ suit—a sight you love.
“do we really have to stay till the end?”
you turn towards him, mortified, “this is literally your best friend’s wedding.”
he shrugs, “so?”
with a shake of your head, you drag him further down the hall to your assigned seats. at least, holding your hand is enough to pacify him.
the wedding goes as you would expect, aside from toji almost falling asleep.
you are now just standing beside the clearly expensive and delicious buffet—your true love.
toji is happily indulging in the food laid out in front of him, and you are about to do the same, but you notice that the bouquet throw is about to happen.
so you dash out of your seat just in time to catch that rogue bouquet. you raise your hand, announcing yourself as the now rightful owner of this bouquet.
that’s why you excitedly search for toji to show him your new prize.
you rush towards the table that you left your boyfriend at, “toji, I got it!—toji?”
a look left, a look right, your eyes widen. did the darn guy leave the moment you caught the bouquet? no way his fear of commitment is this intense.
you take note of the groom—toji’s bestie—shaking his head.
feeling embarrassed, you frown and yell for him, “toji fushiguro!”
suddenly, you feel a presence behind your back. you feel the person lean towards your ear a bit, and they whisper a small, “hey.”
you gasp, spinning to smack him square on the shoulder, “I hate you!”
he teases, almost like your hit was never there in the first place, “now now, that isn’t something you say to your future husband,” he grins and you scrunch your face in disgust.
you turn on your heel to walk away from him, “kill yourself.”
“what a foul mouth,” he whistles, following you until you finally give up and are given the chance to punch him in the stomach to make for the scare he gave you.

taglist: @magenta-cat-drawingss @pompompurin1028 @scul-pted @requiem626k @nameless-shrimp @sonder-paradise @jessbeinme15s-notebook @todorokichills @ginneko @missrown @shrynkk @simplyxsinned @beautiful-is-boring @starlostlaiba @izukus-gf @irethepotato @thekaylahub @dazaisbloodybandages @aeanya @sweetcloudsimp @moon-catto @the-midnightskies@pianopuppygirl @gojosblackqueen @kryscent @kunikida-simp @whoami-72 @mx-0-child @fiona782 @kisakitwister @imjustasimpxd @psychopotatomeme @dreamcastgirl99 @watyousayin @doobiebochana @laylasbunbunny @hojicha-expresso @4sat0ruu @nineooooo @chuuyasboots @alekssashka7 @rieejjyubi02 @satoryaa @nothisispatrick300 @fallencrescentmoon @etheviese @ho34gojo @the-mom-friend-dot-com @the-weeping-author @stray-npc @libbyistired @anon1412 @anakalana @maehemthemisfit @satorustar @b4nka1 @sad-darksoul @ko-fi-heart @pumpkindudeishere @suyaaachin @babyqueen17 @chaosguy352 @murakami-kotone @sukun4ryomen @yumieis

copyright © tender-rosiey
do not copy or plagiarize or you will be reported
#gojo satoru x reader#gojo x reader#sukuna x reader#sukuna x you#geto x reader#geto suguru x reader#nanami x reader#nanami kento x reader#toji x reader#toji fushiguro x reader#jjk x reader#jjk x you#gojo x you#jjk x y/n#geto x you#nanami x you#sukuna x y/n#ryomen sukuna x reader#toji x you#gojo x y/n
5K notes
·
View notes
Text

୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅ how I think the boys from love and deepspace would give a first kiss :3
warnings: suggestive content (obviously?), writing might be out of character, spoilers in general, i get carried away explaining everything because i'm afraid of being accused of mischaracterisation
[story spoiler] first kiss = first kiss where mc is a hunter/the timeline in game
authors notes: i have favourites and it will show CLEARLY in my writing… sorry (not sorry no1 rafayel stan) and i am a yapper
characters: rafayel, xavier, zayne and sylus
link to my master list here!!
more below the cut :3

sorry rafayel... but i feel like he's the most unskilled at kisses because - hear me out - you're his very first kiss. lemurians as a species seem to value bonds and loyalty, and as the literal sea god he wasn't able to nor wanted to just hook up or mess around - he's looking for devotion!!!
(okay, we ignore the kiss in forgotten sea myth story because like come on there was literally no romance mc was drowning)
definitely waits a while before kissing you, rayafel really takes his time to fall into place. after all, he needs to make sure his beloved bride/groom is well and truly his!!!
the type to wait for the ‘right moment’ - but doesn’t force or stage it ykwim? like the time comes naturally - e.g. watching the sunset, or you’re leaning close to him whilst he’s painting
he’s a romantic 100% like there’s a reason his 'floral promise' card was (imo) way fluffier compared to the others - like xavier's was tender-ish but rafayel was fucking melting
he's a sweet talker I just know it.
that charm he uses on his clients? he doesn't want to nor will he manipulate you with it but you know he's going to ramp up the charm to tease you a little
definitely knows his effect on you and uses it to his full advantage (cough cough fiery undercurrents secret times) like whispering in your ear, making excuses to touch you or get close to you
(i think he’d be more 'traditional' because of lemurian customs - the whole bonding + [forgotten sea spoilers] the sea god ceremony where the mc must devote themselves to rafayel displaying a strong level of devotion)
SUCH A GENTLE KISSER OMG like compared to his almost bratty and childish personality he’s a gentleman when it comes to kisses (also because he's kind of unsure what to do...)
the type to tuck strand of your hair behind your ear, fiddle with it a little maybe twirl it around his finger before trailing a finger along your jawline... i can see him like massaging your ear too? idk how to describe it he's a handsy man
first kiss was definitely more sweet than passionate ugawhriulgs he's such a cutie
right after the first kiss i think he’d be pretty affectionate, rather than bratty/tsundere since for him to kiss someone i believe he’d really need to love them (and therefore is more open to being vulnerable)
affectionate as in saying something cheesy probably, commenting on how you tasted or another one of his poetic, artistic quotes (dw raf we love it)
wouldn't be satisfied with just one after that, i can see him going in for a more passionate second and even a third (i mean look at his 'floral promise' memory OR 'fiery undercurrents') in the same few minutes
these follow up kisses would probably be longer and way less chaste, hands moving from tilting your chin up to your waist ahahahahahuwfa
you'd have to show him the appeal of tongue if that's your thing because he's seen it before but never really saw what was nice about it
"But... you're just drinking each other's saliva?" "Rafayel that's hot-"
definitely relived the moment in his head hundreds of times after that night - and you bet your ass he painted a piece inspired from your first kiss with him
any kisses after that i feel like they would follow this default pattern;
if he initiated the kiss i think he’d be more cocky and teasing, especially if he surprised you with one and he sees your flustered face
“Didn’t expect that huh, cutie?”
if you surprised him, however, get ready for typical rafayel childish behaviour, blushing and averting his eyes, covering his mouth with the back of his hand and a pout
“Hey- what was that for!!” Σ(・□・;)
either way rafayel is the worlds silliest man and would cave into literally anything with just a few kisses from you
ALSO KISS HIS COLLAR BONES AND YOU'VE GOT A WHOLE NEW SCENARIO TO UNFOLD

oh i just have a feeling this man is devouring you because puh-LEASEE?? sir we aren't forgetting your 'tender night' card i know that night was anything but tender
xavier is the definition of pent-up desire because this man has been waiting a LONG time and he's not going to be able to hold back very well
(taking heavy inspiration from his '21 days' memory because with his reaction it kind of feels like his first kiss with mc... but tbh i don't know much about xavi)
he's definitely not shy when it comes down to it, yeah he gets flustered if he thinks about it because of course imagining kissing the person he's pined over for centuries is going to fluster the shit out of him but he doesn't shy away form the idea or avoid the topic in conversation
i feel like he'd bring it up casually - like in the 'partner go go' event (aka heartbreaker-chasing-rhythm-game event) he was so insistent on the 'kissing page'
mc was like "apparently you can solve arguments with a kiss" and this mf straight up said "we can argue then" this man is STARVED
i feel like you'd need to initiate the kiss or give him very clear signs you'd be okay with a kiss for it to happen, i don't know why i just feel like he's that type of person
the first kiss is deep despite him trying his best to hold back - you can just feel his desire and longing oozing out of him and he's definitely on fucking cloud nine
xavier's holding your face and stroking his thumb along your cheek and god damn he's good at kissing where the fuck did he learn this from?
the type to break the kiss and then fucking bulldoze into the next one and my god his restraints have broken and he's actually kissing you as if it's the last thing he's able to do on earth
100% a tongue user he's biting at your bottom lip before slipping it in the sly minx
after the kiss he's more flustered than he expected to be - kissing the love of his life (literally) sends him into a flurry of emotions he's never really experienced before
given how possessive xavier is i wouldn't be surprised if halfway through making out he managed to leave a hickey or two in very. visible. places.
he isn't even pretending to feel guilty in the slightest, a smug grin as he shrugs out a half-assed apology.
"Sorry, I guess you'll have to try hide it. Or don't, that would be easier."
if you leave any marks on him he's not leaving you along that night. forget sleeping you two are recreating 'tender night' ALL night.
but seriously, if you leave hickeys over his neck (his canonical sensitive area and where he feels vulnerable) he's going to go crazy because what do you mean you want everyone to know he's yours??? what do you mean you want him as much as he wants you??
tldr; xavier is unusually talented with his mouth and is desperate to prove it to you.
i accidentally wrote way more for xavier than i expected i even cut out some bits holy crap maybe i’m more into xavi than i thought

oh no... zayne you beautiful man i am so sorry... (here comes the one character i have no idea how to characterise + no clue about his lore zayne fans pls bear with me)
okay - zayne looks like a gentleman and i'm sure he very much is even in intimate moments, but i cannot get rid of the idea that his first kiss w you was lowk spicyyyyy
like OH MY GOD I JUST WATCHED SNOWY SERENITY RN I FUCKIGN KNEW IT
that man was pouncing on you in a hospital bed, dishevelled, and kissing you deep my god like the type of kiss that literally as you forgetting where you are
i feel like zayne would be the one to initiate the kiss, again no idea why maybe i'm falling into the dominant zayne agenda
you're probably surprised when he kisses you because he's usually so composed, the 'cold unfeeling' dr zayne - then suddenly he's panting and pushing himself on top of you (consensually of course), pinning you down and going to town.
when he kisses you i don't think he's much of a lip biter, but if you bite his lips or lick at him or anything he's not opposed, as long as your lips are on his and vice versa
after the first kiss he's going straight into another one, his patience has thinned to the point of snapping and now he just needs you.
his hands what does he do with his hands? i'm thinking the typical otome face hold, gentle grasp juxtaposing his fervent kisses LOL
now, why does he kiss you?? how does this all build up? unfortunately all i can think of to match this scenario is something angsty or something along the lines of zayne has fucking had it and all he wants is you
"I need you... please."
this is the type of kiss where he wants to drown in you, breathe you in and just smother his being into yours to forget and erase whatever else is happening/happened
if he's kissing you and pinning you down and you bring up your hand to interlock fingers with him - your warm hands against his cool hands? wow his kissing is all of a sudden even more passionate.
after the little make out session he's going to go all mushy on you, physical affection of an embrace something uncharacteristic of him to match his dishevelled state
in kisses after the first i like the idea that he checks your pulse mid make-out and just silently smirks/chuckles when he notices it's faster and more erratic than usual
"Why are you nervous, this isn't our first time."
he also has this sneaky habit of whispering incredibly close to your ear, the reason why i choose to point this out it because i feel like sometimes he uses his evol to his advantage to like, breathe out cool air on your neck/ear and likes to watch you shiver
the ultimate dominant figure if you try to kiss him first and take control he somehow manages to overcome you and take the lead without using his strength, just good ol' sweet talking and technique

congratulations, you managed to snatch a kiss from the renown leader sylus!!!
i can see why people would think he's promiscuous or a fuck-boy because honestly i see it, but imo just because he is more flirtatious, assertive and... responsive (try tapping his... crotch... in the café LOL) does NOT = play boy
to me it just shows that - unlike the other LIs - sylus is just more forward with his approach, he has that devil-may-care like feel to him ykwim?
"Do I like you? What type of question is that, isn't it obvious? Or do I need to show you?" is much different to "Hey baby girl lemme rock your world tnite xx"
but just because he's got a 'fuck-all' attitude doesn't mean he fucks around with random people, he's 1. got standards and 2. living in the n109 zone?? do you THINK he can afford to let random people close just to fuck???
that being said i don't think he's a kiss virgin, just very selective and honest man when it comes to love and physical intimacy
now, when i say he isn't a fuckboy, that doesn't mean i don't believe in cocky-smugass-know-it-all sylus - he kisses well. and with PASSION. and probably the worst part is that he knows it.
first kiss with sylus? i can't imagine him making a large fuss about it like rafayel, nor it having to be some "i'm-at-deaths-door-and-need-to-kiss-you-atleast-once" situation like zayne, but no matter where or when you two share a first kiss he is making sure you remember
that being said, there was definitely a LOT of romantic and sexual tension between you and sylus for at least weeks before the kiss, i mean the air was thick with suggestive glances and denial
i think you two'd have to already be in close proximity which is very easy to achieve with sylus (touchiest man award goes to him) for the first kiss to initiate
he's grabbing your waist, or your face, makings sure your eyes are on. him. as you two kiss. watching with delight no matter what reactions you have, he admires you through surprised and flustered to confident and defiant
rather than a tender first kiss it’s probably a full blown make out session, just desire and lust flooding out of the both of you after having built up for over a month.
assertive does not mean he's going to force a kiss on you to clear this up, more that he likes to take the initiative and take control as you two kiss <3
yeah he's into biting (wow what a big shock) - likes biting your ear, or neck, or bottom lip, one time he tried nipping at your tongue too.
you can bite him back, he likes it.
"Hah, looks like someone is baring their claws tonight..." he’s really into that whole cat thing huh.
what does mr sylus do with his hands? waist, hips, ass, around your neck, pulling your face in by squeezing your cheeks, fingers threading through the hair on the back of your head, you name it he does it. again, i think sylus is a touchy man.
he doesn't mind if you try to take control, just dont expect to be successful. different to zayne - as in he will overcome your control with his evol and strength…
inappropriate use of his evol has occurred (he ‘tied’ you up and made out with you (CONSENSUALLY))
after his affinity 15 (i think) memory i can just tell he’s freaky with it bruhhh so yeah handcuffs are probably something he indulges in
if you’re persistent or physically overcome sylus you might get rewarded with a resigned, more submissive sylus
the idea or sight of someone man handling/overcoming his strength really sets him off.. i mean have you seen “no defence zone”?? but you’re really going to need to work to get him to this stage, and he’s going to have to love you
“No one’s ever seen me like this, lying on my back and begging for you.”
secretly finds out through you that he enjoys being dominated (BRAT SYLUS FOR 2024) so climb on top of him and kiss him until he’s blushing and panting hahahahahaha
tldr: sylus isn’t a fuck-boy but he sure kisses like one
AN; as an ao3 writer may say, no beta we die like caleb i wrote half of this when i was half asleep LMAOO anyways i hope this was okay please dont attack me BYE
#✧⁺ writing#love and deepspace#lnds#lnd imagine#lnd rafayel imagine#rafayel x you#lnds rafayel#love and deepspace rafayel#rafayel x reader#lnds xavier#lnd xavier#xavier love and deepspace#xavier x reader#lads xavier#zayne love and deepspace#lads zayne#zayne x mc#lnds zayne#zayne x you#lnds sylus#love and deepspace sylus#lads sylus#sylus x reader#sylus x you#lnds x reader#lnds spoilers
1K notes
·
View notes
Text
Rotten Apples, pt. 5
masterlist , series masterlist , ao3 link
part one , part two , part three , part four , part six
18+ MINORS DNI


pairing: caleb x non!mc reader
synopsis: you attend your friend's bachelorette party and get really, really drunk. choices and calls are made. caleb shows up and things get heated!
word count: 8.9k words
warnings: not proofread! READER IS MESSY AND DRUNK!
author's note: hihi! things have spiced up! ooh la la ... i hope you enjoy the chapter! please comment because i love hearing what you all have to say!!!!!! please drink responsibly and make good choices!!!!!!!! also i haven’t written smut in a hot minute so please go easy on me!
content warning: it gets smutty. fingering, making out, tongues!, oral (f receiving), fingering, vulgar language, drunken consent given (REMEMBER TO ALWAYS GIVE CONSENT AND BE SOBER WHEN DOING IT OKAY THIS IS FICTION NOT REAL LIFE)
my rotten apples <3 : @kebarney , @pinkismyfavcolor , @romils , @erisnxxi , @rik0shii , @reni502 , @spacehopper27 , @llamabois , @likesvader , @pandoras-rabbit , @princessfruit , @lukassafespace , @jexireads , @etsuniiru , @tinnyrabbit , @orianakira , @xiaorixx , @beomluvrr , @sanzy4 , @vickykazuya , @blcknebula , @sleepydang , @flamedancer13 , @gojosbedwarmer , @silmeria-lafleur , @ikiru-wa , @animecrazy76 , @fealy , @i-messed-up-big-time , @motheraiya55 , @vvonunie , @1uv4jiya , @yuuuumii , @okumurarinsbabe , @mcdepressed290 , @luleck , @sanzy4 , @lucifers-silhouette , @crazygirl3001 , @april-likes-smut , @kazbrkker , @l1ttlebabyapple , @writersandroses , @kookie-my-little-sunshine , @curryexpress , @earthykitsunesrain , @raining4food , @chaoticbardlady99 , @young-adult-summer , @bitchyzombienacho
want to be added to the taglist? click here!



The bass from the nightclub’s speakers vibrates your body. The lights flash on and off, other club patrons jumping up and down as confetti is launched into the air. The silver and gold pieces fall from the ceiling. You tilt your chin up, mind in a complete and utter haze, as the shining pieces flutter onto your skin.
Jane, your friend and bride-to-be, takes your hands. The two of you stand in the middle of the packed dance floor. Sweaty bodies surround you, the air humid as you sing along to the song. Jane twirls in front of you and your hands attach to her waist, helping spin her under the spotlight. She pushes back into you. The two of you yell the song lyrics, dancing with each other, and watch as men stare up and down your bodies. You can barely make out her laughs from over the blaring music.
This is the third club of the night that you and Jane and her bachelorette party have gone to. In the heart of Linkon, there’s a whole city street lined with bars and clubs. It’s typically packed on the weekends. You’ve always driven by have never gone inside, sticking with the bars you know well, never daring to venture outside of your comfort zone.
So when you entered the third club of the night, which goes by the name of Kaleidoscope, you were enthralled when you came to the, very drunken, realization that you love dancing and drinking and having a good time with your friends. It’s a fantastic change of pace compared to the angsty days you’ve been enduring.
The alcohol and music was a good distraction from a certain someone who remained on your mind. You used the hands and touch of other men in the club, under the colorful flashes of lights, to replacing the tingling feeling on your lips and hips and waist.
Your night soon became blurred together. Jane and her friends kept passing you shots and drinks and you drowned them as soon as they touched your hand. You loved any drink they gave you. The fruity cocktails were fun to chug and they went down easy whereas the harder and stronger cocktails took you an extra second or two to finish.
It doesn’t matter what you drink, though! You aren’t planning on remembering this night anyways! So to hell with it! You’re going to have all the Dirty Shirley’s and Gin Fizz’s you want! Nobody is there to stop you from having a good time!
Especially not a tall, handsome man with the most perfect eyes in a uniform who has been on your mind all day.
He is not here to hinder your plan to get absolutely fucked.
Jane takes your hands, holding on tight, and guides the two of you out from the claustrophobic dance floor. The air becomes more and more pure, well, as pure as it can be, and you swear you can catch a whiff of plain air compared to the mixture of pungent colognes, sultry perfumes, and body odor from the dance floor.
“Another drink?” Jane slurs, smiling brightly at you. Her fiancé, who is just one of the greatest guys ever so you can’t even hate on him, was kind enough to get your group VIP treatment from the Kaleidoscope team. Your large booth sits to the side of the dance floor, which is in the center of the building, and you have three bottle girls waiting to help you out with drinks for the night.
“Excuuuuuse me?” Jane leans over the edge of the leather couch, drunkenly waving her hand around. You swat at her but miss, falling forward, unable to stop yourself. Your face lands into Jane’s chest and she giggles, pushing you off of her. One of the waitresses comes up to you two with a smile on her face. Jane fixes her hair and puts on her best behavior, smiling back, “May we please have…”
Her words trail off, leaving you and the waitress in an anticlimactic silence. She blinks and her eyes roll into the back of her head, the bride-to-be plopping into the back of the couch. You turn to the waitress, chuckling. Your body sways back and forth, vision slightly blurred, as you finish Jane’s request.
“Two waters? Please?” You talk slow, trying to annunciate your words as clear as you can for the waitress. She nods with a smile, shaking her head as she walks away. You nod, turning back to Jane, shaking her arm. “She does NOT get paid enough to deal with usssss! We’re the worst!”
“We’ll tip her,” Jane grumbles and waves her hand in your face. You smack it away and look at the dance floor.
The other bridesmaids dance with random men and women of their picking. Some of them are about to take their clothes off and turn this into a whole new club when the designated mother of the group stops them. You shake your head and laugh.
The entire bachelorette party is a whole bunch of idiots. Idiots who needed to get away from their domestic lives and have a night where they can act like the party girls they used to be. You raise an eyebrow, watching as one of Jane’s friend, who a literal mother, shoves her tongue down a random man’s throat.
“Get it, girl,” you whisper with a slow nod, drawing your attention back to Jane. She stares at you with big eyes, scaring you. You gasp and push her away but she comes right back, getting even close this time.
“Stop that.” She says.
“Stop…stop what?!” Your hand flies over your heart. You blink like your life depends on it, your drunken state slightly sobering from the encounter. Jane shrugs and falls back into the couch, staring at the disco ball that hangs over the table.
“It’s kinda weird that it’s just hanging there,” she points to the glass ball.
This whole interaction has you feeling such whiplash. You’re unsure of how you got to this point in the conversation.
“I guess…it’s kind of like a kaleidoscope,” you try your best to respond, the dizziness slowly leaving your mind. Your body stops spinning and your sways become a lot less noticeable. You sharply inhale and smile at the waitress who comes back with two water bottles. You take them and thank her. Just as she’s about to leave, Jane grabs her by the wrist, shooting up from the leather couch cushions.
“Fourteen porn star shots!” She collapses into the leather once again.
“She’s terrifying,” the waitress points to Jane.
“Yeah…she is…I’m so sorry about her,” you sheepishly smile at the woman but she rolls her eyes at you, walking the hell out of the VIP section.
“Have you found your prey yet?” Jane asks. Your turn and look down at her, one eyebrow perking up. “What? Did you already forget your plan on being a big ol’ slut?”
“I had a plan to be a slut?” You repeat.
“Not just any slut…….a BIG fuckin’ slut.” Jane holds her hands out as if she’s about to light up a sign. You laugh and take a water bottle, chugging it in one go. “Do you really not remember?”
You shake your head at her. Some of the girls from the party join you in the booth, just in time as the waitress comes back with a tray filled with the porn star shots Jane ordered. You swipe two of the plastic shot glasses from the tray, handing one to Jane. Her eyes are half-lidded, borderline closed, and she begins to slump over. You hold her up, one hand smushed against her face.
You drink your shot with ease, the drunkenness quickly finding its way back to you. Jane opens her mouth when you wave the shot glass in front of her face, making an airplane noise, before pouring it into her mouth. She smiles and lets out an “ahh” when she’s done.
“So,” a woman by the name of Tonya, one of Jane’s co-workers she’s bonded with, drops onto the couch next to you. You turn and face her, looking up. She’s tall and muscular. If you didn’t know any better, you’d give up your life if it means she’d give you a chance. Unfortunately, she’s married with kids. Bummer. “Have you found your man yet?”
“She hasn’t!” Jane’s hand pops up. It’s like she’s resurrected once again but is fully awake and present. She leans over you, taking Tonya’s hands. “We need to find her a hunk of a man so she can forget about Caleb!”
“Yes! Someone whose nickname is, like, ‘Minotaur’ or ‘The Machine’!” Tonya and Jane feed off of each other’s excitement. The rest of the group joins in, adding to the already long list of needs you have for your future man.
“He needs to be tall!”
“A lottttttt of muscle! Those shoulders are like handlebars, girl, you just need to hold on!”
“Someone who won’t come with any strings attached!”
“HIS COCK NEEDS TO BE HUGE TOO! If you ain’t gargling, you’re not doing it right!”
Horrified by the last comment, you stand from the couch, phone in hand. You take the last shot and drink it, the fruity liquors easily running down your throat. You look to the dance floor, trying to see if any of the men stand out to you. You sigh, sadness sweeping over your tipsy body.
You hate to admit it, but all you really want is him.
Him and his tall frame. Those violet eyes you can stare at for ages and never get tired of. You’ve seen his muscles through his clothes. His shoulders are strong and sturdy. You can still the lingering feeling of his lips on yours, the way his hands slipped under your shirt, calloused hands taking hold of your waist. He took control and you let him.
Wait — shit — no! Aren’t you supposed to hate him? He’s turned your life upside down in the span of a quick month. You can’t fantasize about him and his plush lips or the way he looks at you when you speak, making you feel so seen.
Fuck. You’re so fucking fucked.
Jane sneaks up from behind you. She snatches your phone from your hand. You gasp and lunge after her.
“Give that back!” You yell. Jane giggles and tosses the phone to Tonya, who tosses it to Noë, who then tosses it to Tally. You become dizzy with how fast they pass your phone back and forth, eventually finding yourself on the couch as a second wave of alcohol hits your body.
The calm you felt before? Oh honey, you were just in the eye of the storm.
“What are you...doing?” You slur, watching as Jane opens your phone. She stands in front of you, swaying to the music, as maniacal giggles leave her mouth.
“I know who to call to get you over your little Caleb problem,” Jane wiggles her eyebrows. You slowly sit up, tilting your head to the side. “Someone get rid of all the apples because a doctor is about to—”
You gasp and jump at her. You push Jane into the couch and she gasps, holding your phone away from you. The two of you look like drunken idiots, yes, but you simply cannot risk Jane calling Zayne. He’d only hate you more than he probably already does after the stunt you pulled last night by leaving him!
“Don’t!” You whine, reaching for the phone. You watch as your white screen turns into black. You squint, trying to focus on the name, but the words are blurred. With one final push, you slide forward and snatch the phone from her hand. Jane laughs and the other girls help her up.
“When you’re done with your little phone call,” Jane stumbles over her feet, pointing at you with droopy eyes, “come join us on the dance floor! And tell Zayne to bring his stethoscope for…foreplay reasons, I dunno, I’m drunk!” She cheers and throws her arms up in the air. You cover the phone’s microphone and nod, grimacing as the girls trot away. You look at the phone screen and press the big red button.
Nope. You can’t do it. You’re too big of a pussy.
You sit back down onto the couch. A few left over porn shots stare at you from the tray the waitress left behind. Your foot taps against the floor. From lack of better judgment and ignoring all rationality, you took the rest of the shots, immediately feeling them take effect on your body.
The leather couch squeaks as you roll down it. You stare at the ceiling of the club, feeling your body warm up, cheeks pink. You huff and pull out your phone. Sure, you can’t make out the letters of your contact list, but you have something to say to someone!
You just…don’t know what it is quite yet.
Your fingernail picks at the crack in your phone case. You gnaw on your bottom lip, staring at his phone number.
The day he first showed up, he saved you. After that, he’s made it a living nightmare of childhood trauma and jealousy. He even ruined your night with Zayne then made things worse by kissing you. You should be angry at him! You need to be mad at him and his charming smile and the way he says your nam as if it’s last time he’s going to say it.
Yeah! Give him a piece of your mind!
You press his string of numbers, not having saved his number yet out of pure pettiness, and bring the phone to your ear. The waitress swings by with a drink in hand, passing it off to you. You thank you and take a meager sip from the cool glass, the fruity cocktail hitting your tongue. It’s the perfect liquid courage you need to yell at Caleb.
“Are you okay?”
You scoff. Of course his first words to you are those of concern and not out of hatred. You laugh, throwing your head back, body moving with the momentum, moving with you.
“I hate you.” You slur into the microphone.
“You do?” Caleb doesn’t sound too surprised by your admission. “Why?” His question is deceptively simple.
“Because…” you hesitate, trying to think of the first thing to say, “because you faked your death. Or if you were, like, kidnapped or whatever I wouldn’t hold that against you and would completely understand.” You hiccup. Caleb doesn’t respond. You strain your ears to listen to his breathing, leaning into the phone. “I also hate how you got Darryl fired just because I don’t like him. And I hate that you ruined Zayne and I’s night because of your jealousy issues. Look, I get it. I’m a god damn catch,” you laugh, closing your eyes.
“How much have you had to drink?”
“Stop! Stop that! Bad Caleb! Don’t care about me, boo,” you groan and pull the phone away from your face, flipping it off.
“Do you need me to come get you?” He says right as you bring the phone back to your ear. You sniffle and shake your head no.
“Don’t come here! Because if you do, I don’t know if I’ll be able to not kiss you again, you bastard.”
“You…want to kiss me?”
“Yes! But I don’t like you! Keep up,” you roll your eyes and groan. Are you even making sense right now?
“Where are you?” He asks.
“I’m not telling you! You’re not gonna find me and act like my hero, no thanks!” You vehemently deny what you assume to be his plan, which is actually very accurate.
“Just tell me. I’ll stop by for a minute for proof of life, how about that?” He asks. In the background, you can hear the faint sounds of him grabbing his keys and wallet. He’s heading to the door!
“Caleb! I’m not gonna tell—”
“How’s everyone doing tonight? The Kaleidoscope Team wants to give a shoutout to Jane and her bachelorette party!”
The club’s DJ interrupts you mid sentence. You fall silent, listening as rap air horns blare off after the announcement. The music continues afterward.
“Well…that’s just unfortunate timing,” you mumble into the phone.
“I’ll see you soon.” Caleb ends the call, leaving you staring at a white phone screen.
Well shit. That just made things worse.
You got this, though! You can do it! You know what’s going to help More alcohol! Maybe you can blend into the crowd and hide in plain sight! He’ll never find you in the crowd!
Oh, to be a fool with a drunkard’s courage.
You meet with Jane and the other bridesmaids at the bar. A cup is pushed into your hand as soon as you approach, replacing it with your empty cup. You take a sip but Jane moves it back onto the counter, pulling you away.
“Is he coming?” She asks, drawing you closer and closer to the dance floor. You flash a toothy grin at her, slowly easing your body into beat with the music.
“I’d rather not think about it!” You call back with a shrug. The two of you slip into the crowd, keeping hold of each other with a hand. You move to the center, right underneath a spotlight. A few others are lit with you. The light casts dark shadows on your face and temporarily blinds you.
You catch flashes of your friend but can’t get a good image. At one point, you lose her hand and are pushed to the edge of the light’s rim. You lose your breath, hands touch and grab you, pushing you in and out of vacant spaces, filling in anywhere there’s air to breathe. You don’t even know how much time has passed since you’ve been dancing, being a partner to all.
Your body moves with the beat of the music. You laugh and tilt your chin up, your back connecting with a muscular chest. Their large hands attach to your sides. Their fingers slip along the thin material of your dress. One arm drifts down to your hip, fingers digging into your sides, threatening to slip further down. The other snakes up your chest, his fingers making themselves at home around your neck, fingertips tapping your jawline.
Your gasp meets Caleb’s face, his eyes shadowed from the harsh lighting. Goosebumps litter your skin, shivers running down your spine. A pool of warmth forms between your legs. You’re helpless against his touch, immediately melting into his body.
“Did you want me to come find you?” Caleb murmurs into your ear. He leads you two away from the spotlight, moving underneath the shadows, only being seen when flashes of light strobe by. Darkness overtakes your vision. You attach your hand to the arm that holds your neck. You firmly hold his wrist, pulling against him, but he dips his head down, lips grazing against your neck.
Caleb holds you as you squirm against his chest. You two are frozen in place, the rest of the world around you jumping and dancing to the music, the attention on themselves instead of others around them. He slowly inhales, your intoxicating perfume making place in his memory. The tip of his nose drags across the skin of your neck. His hand moves across your body, his palm pushing into your lower stomach. A groan escapes your lips.
“Caleb,” you breathe out, feeling his lips graze a sensitive part of your neck. You push back into him, his hardened crotch poking into your ass.
Fuck. He’s made this so much more difficult.
“We’re going home,” he mutters into your ear. Suddenly, his hot touch leaves your body. You whine, feeling his fingers curl around your wrist. You pull away his touch, not wanting to leave the protection of darkness and music. You want to stay hidden with him. You don’t want to face reality just yet.
“Dance with me,” you yell over the music. Caleb turns to look at you. The lights stop flickering on and off, the white hues turning to gold as the music comes to a swell.
The world moves in slow motion. Caleb slowly takes a step towards you. A tipsy smile graces your face, your cheeks the perfect shade of pink and your eyes half-droopy form the alcohol. His purple eyes are darkened and dangerous. You’re unable to tell what exact emotion he’s feeling.
It’s…thrilling.
You manage to pull your hand from his. The flashing lights return. You’re cloaked in flashes of blood oranges and purples, your body seemingly moving in slow motion as you lure Caleb back to you.
He watches you closely. Your eyes are still the prettiest thing he’s ever seen. Your hips sway back and forth, drawing him closer and closer, as the hues of the room change between warm and cold tones. Your skirt slips up your legs, revealing more and more bare skin you have to offer. The music vibrates his body, drowning out the screaming voice in his head telling him to get you out of there, to whisk you to his hotel room and take care of you where you can be alone together.
You are just so beautiful. The way your body dances to the music. He loves how the club’s lights illuminate your eyes, your hair taking on the color of the purple and orange lights form above. Caleb loves how carefree you look right now. There is nothing holding you back.
No fears. No restrictions you’ve made for yourself. None of your walls are up.
Caleb wishes to see this version of you when you’re sober. He hopes that one day he’ll make you feel safe enough to just let go.
Caleb grabs your hips, pulling your back against him. Your body continues to move to the music, your hands sliding up his chest, making themselves at home on his shoulders. You bite your lip and squeeze his muscles. They’re rock hard under your touch. It causes you to shudder from desire.
Your hands move up his neck and to the back of his head. You play with the bottom layer of his hair, giving it a gentle tug. He groans and drops his head down to yours. He leans into you, his breath hot against the skin of your neck.
“I thought you hated me,” you can barely hear his words over the music. You shake your head, falling deeper into the blissful feeling that crashes throughout your body. Your body moves against his, helping him fall in beat to the music, before turning around in his arms, pushing yourself back into him.
You’re making it so difficult for him to not lose control, to not drag you away and punish you for all the teasing you’ve put him through. You are so merciless when it comes to him. Are you the same way with Zayne?
Caleb groans. Your intoxication rubs off on him, his head now feeling dazed and hazy underneath the club’s atmosphere.
“I do hate you,” you breathe out, his lips now attaching to your neck. He bites down onto your skin, causing you to gasp. Your ass grinds into his hardened cock, the man burying his fingers into your waist. “I especially hate the way you kissed me.”
“You do?” Caleb peppers open mouthed kisses along your neck. You nod, shivering under his touch. He hooks his right arm around your stomach, keeping you firmly pressed against him. His left hand drops to your thigh, slipping under the skirt. His fingertips dance along your skin, swirling small patterns into your skin.
“I hate the way you make me feel,” you gasp when he bites down on a spot below your jaw, sucking and kissing your skin. He leaves marks in his wake, slowly covering the side of your neck with dark red outlines of his mouth.
“Let’s go home,” he breathes into your ear. You push against is hand, wanting to get away, but he pulls you right back into him. “I’m not leaving you. Never again.”
“I don’t want to go,” you drunkenly whine. Your hands drop to his arm, peeling it away from your body. You slip from his grasp but he’s quick to grab you. You stand at an arm’s length from him. Your mind feels fuzzy and the club’s music becomes muffled. You giggle, looking at your connected hands. You’re quick to interlock your fingers with his. Caleb certainly isn’t complaining about it.
“You’re drunk,” he pulls you back to him. Your chests collide. You look down and bite your lip, pressing into him even more, watching as your boobs threaten to spill out from the low cut fabric. “Let me take you home.”
“Booooooooo,” you roll your eyes, pushing away and giving him two thumbs down. You drop his hands and turn around, quickly evading his hands. Caleb groans, staying close behind you as you weave through the crowd of dancing bodies.
Thank goodness he aced aerial pursuits when he was at the DAA Academy.
He looks away for a moment, trying to see where the rest of your bachelorette group is. You’ve been posting selfies on your story, a lot of them provocative, showcasing your body with a less than innocent face.
You were torturing the poor man while he waited in his hotel room, trying his best to pinpoint your location before he lost control.
A random man grabs your hand. He yanks you to him and you let out a surprised gasp. Your bodies press together, the man’s hands dipping down to your ass. He grinds against you, squeezing your ass. You tilt your head at him, shaking your head.
“Wait…” you groan, hands on his chest, “you’re not—”
Caleb breaks free from the crowd and spots you. He sees red and storms over to you and the man. He uses his Evol to rip the man off of you. He grabs the man’s arm and under the darkness, he twists it backwards with such force that it snaps in half.
“Who gave you permission to touch her?” Caleb barks in the man’s face. The man whimpers and he drops him, turning around. He looks at you to see if you watched him but you were too busy spinning away and stumbling towards the bar.
You giggle to yourself, your body feeling light and airy despite the weighted feeling between your legs. The bar top comes into view and you lean onto it, looking for a bartender. People push into you from both sides but you push back, making space for yourself.
Caleb takes the spot behind you, his arms acting as barriers. He takes all of the hits from the surrounding people, his mouth hovering next to your ear. A raspy chuckle leaves his lips. You gulp, suddenly feeling tiny in front of him, and glance at him from over your shoulder. Your eyes meet his piercing stare. You push your legs together.
“You’re going to cause me a lot of trouble tonight, aren’t you?” He whispers into your ear. He leans his face into the back of your neck, seeking solace in your marked skin and addictive perfume. He sighs, his breath sending goosebumps to form all over your body.
Your core aches. You fight the urge to push back into him, suddenly remembering that you hate him and don’t want to do anything with him…or do you? Your mind and emotions are too much of a mess right now to make sense out of what you want.
Sure, you want Caleb. But is your need for him that from love or has it been born out of pure lust?
You turn forward, blinking rapidly as some of the effects of alcohol leaves your body. Feeling slightly sober, you clear your throat and tap your fingers on the lit bar top.
“I’m not doing anything with you,” you state, voice shaking.
“Oh?” He muses. “Your words aren’t exactly lining up with what your body is telling me, pretty bird.”
Pretty bird. Is that his new nickname for you?
You freeze. Your heart melts at the sound of the nickname, a quiet desire-filled sigh leaving your mouth. You can feel Caleb smile against the skin of your neck, pressing new and gentle kisses on top of the hickeys he left behind.
“You should leave,” you stammer. He shakes his head. To your left, Jane and Tonya wiggle their way to the bar. They gasp for air. Caleb keeps his head where it is, which is on your right side, his face obscured by your hair. Jane and Tonya finally look at you and your shocked expression.
“Is this…” Tonya points to the man behind you.
“Yes!” Jane squeals, shaking Tonya’s arm, “She found her Minotaur! Her Machine!”
Upon hearing the nicknames, and feeling you shake your head, Caleb peels his face from your neck, putting on his most charming and handsome smile on his face. Jane and Tonya blink at him, jaws dropping.
“Where can I find a Machine like that?” Jane purrs. Tonya hits her arm.
“Babe, you’re getting married.”
“Shit. You’re right,” Jane looks at you, waving her finger between you and Caleb. “This is the random man you picked out? Good job.”
“Random?” Caleb pulls away form you, getting a better look at your face. He raises an eyebrow and smirks, his arm muscles flexing. “Don’t tell me you were going to find another guy to fuck, pretty bird.”
“Wait!” Jane slaps her hand onto Caleb’s forearm. She yanks him away from you and you’re able to breathe again. “Are you the Caleb? Cause we all know Zayne! But we don’t know you just yet…you know. Since we’re college friends with her.”
Caleb’s eye twitches at the mention of Zayne. He glances at you and all you can do is look away and order a drink from the bartender.
“What can I do to help sway your opinions of me? How about I buy a round for my pretty bird’s lovely friends?” Caleb’s sweet talk always works. You roll your eyes while your friends swoon.
“Oh! And you have that Colonel salary…good man! What a gentleman! I don’t know why she hates you!” Tonya claps her hands together. Caleb laughs with them and he pulls out his wallet, handing his card to the stressed out bartender.
Your gaze flickers between Caleb and your friends, then they look at an empty space beside you. He’s to busy talking with your friends so you slip away.
“Tell me what I need to do to get back on her good side,” Caleb smiles at Jane, Tonya, and the rest of the crew. They all immediately burst into conversation, speaking over each other. Caleb pays attention to what they have to say, taking in mental notes. The bartender passes him a beer bottle and he takes it, knowing damn well that he’s going to need it if you’re keeping him trapped here.
Caleb shifts his weight to his back foot, his butt hitting nothing but air. He passes. He slowly turns on his heel and his purple eyes immediately scan the immediate area around him.
Where the fuck did you go?
He turns back to the group, Jane catching his eye. She drunkenly snorts, her words slurred when the worst words he can hear leave her lips.
“She’s a runner!”
Well…shit. That’s not a fun aspect of you being drunk, is it? Caleb shakes his head, chuckling from surprise and frustration. That’s okay. He’ll find you. He always does.
He leans away from the bar and looks around. His eyes scan the tops of many other women’s heads. None of them are yours. He sighs and pinches the bridge of his nose, turning back to the bar.
Okay…this is going to be a little more complicated than he thought it was going to be.
Caleb closes his eyes and takes another sip from the beer bottle. He stays where he is, drinking up all the alcohol in one go. Cheers erupt from around him, the bachelorette party howling from his side, as a voice rings out from the speakers.
“Alright ladies! It’s time to show us what you got!”
Caleb opens his eyes and rests his elbow on the edge. His gaze is met with a familiar looking pair of legs. He glances down, tilting his head to the side. The woman is wearing the same platform heels as you. The Colonel’s purple eyes trail up your leg, his lips parting, when he catches a glimpse of your exposed skin under your skirt. His eyes travel up farther, landing on your goofy smile and the way you drag your hands across your body, dancing along to the music.
Caleb clears his throat, his pants feeling tighter than before, and looks around. Men watch you, drool falling from their mouths, as you put on a show for them. He groans and uses his Evol to make them look away from you.
You’re his to look at. You’re his to devour, to take. Not theirs.
Caleb chews the inside of his cheek. He looks at your legs, gaze drifting up. He shamelessly looks under your dress. It’s completely bare underneath except for a pair of lacy black panties. The man groans, his hand caressing your shin and calf.
“We’re going home,” he says. You look down at him and shake your head. You kick his touch away and prance in the other direction, earning more and more cheers from the crowd. Your skirt flicks up and he catches a glimpse of your ass.
Fuck.
Caleb follows you down the bar, shoving past people. They yell at him, telling him to fuck off, but he pays no attention to them.
Enough is enough. You aren’t going to listen to him, that’s fine, but my dear, actions have consequences and you are not immune to what Caleb is about to do to you.
“Come on, we’re leaving,” Caleb uses his Evol against you. Your feet lift from the ground and you gasp, not enjoying the sudden feeling of weightlessness. With a flick of his hand, you’re back on the ground next to him. He snatches your hand in his and drags you away from the bar top. People boo him but you give them waves, blowing kisses to them.
Caleb’s mind is fried. He keeps you close to him, dragging you behind as he finds solace in a darkened and somewhat empty hallway. There are a few people scattered throughout, immersed in their own conversations. He heads to the back. You stumble over your feet. You try your best to pry his hand off of your wrist but it’s of no use.
Caleb stops walking but pulls you in front of him. He turns you around and before you can even comprehend what’s happening, he has you pressed up against a wall under the darkness. A single light hangs over you. Its light is dim and creates dramatic shadows on Caleb’s face while yours is soft under the light.
“You…drive me crazy,” Caleb’s breathing is ragged. He presses his hand next to to your head, trapping you against the wall. Your body shovers, panties soaking from your sudden desire. Your legs squeeze together to try and hide it from him.
You watch as he lifts his free hand to your face. The tips of his fingers graze your face. He cups your cheek, the pad of his thumb resting against your bottom lip. It’s quiet, the music being drowned out from distance and the ringing in your ears. He pulls your bottom lip down, a slight smirk forming on his face.
“What am I going to do with you?” Caleb’s voice is raspy. A surge of warmth hits your lower abdomen, legs squeezing tighter as your pussy throbs from his simple question.
Caleb leans down, thumb still on your bottom lip, closing the distance. His lips graze against yours.
“C-Caleb…” you breathe his name out. You push your face up to his but it’s his turn to play coy now. He draws back and shakes his head with a chuckle.
“Use your words, pretty bird.”
“Kiss me. Please.”
You’re desperate for him. For his touch. You crave the way his lips mold to yours. You love how he effortlessly takes control, that you can shut your mind off around him and know that you’re going to be safe.
Caleb looks at you through half-lidded eyes, drunk on the way your voice is so breathy, so needy for him. He admires the way your lips parted for him. He swipes his thumb over your glossy lip. He needs to know what your lip gloss tastes like.
Do you taste like apples? Or did you dare to go with another flavor that isn’t associated with him?
Caleb closes the distance. His lips capture yours in a slow yet passionate kiss. You wrap your arms around his neck, closing the distance. His tented pants pushes into your aching core. You moan against his lips, the knot in your stomach slowly tightening with anticipation.
Caleb swallows every little sound that escapes your mouth. He rolls his hips up into yours, earning another helpless whimper from you. His Evol helps guide you up the wall and your wrap your legs around his hips, making yourself at home. You tilt your head to the side, fully pressed against the wall. Caleb puts his full weight into you. Your fingers slip into his hair, giving the dark locks a tug when he grinds his crotch into yours. Caleb hisses, deepening your kiss.
His tongue dances with yours, quickly exploring every crevice that you have to offer. Every time your lips part, he’s quick to reconnect them, leaving your mind reeling. You gasp for air, your hair quickly becoming frizzy, as Caleb asserts his dominance over you.
His hand leaves your face, sliding down your side. He cups your breast, squeezing it before he pinches your pebbled nipple. You gasp, head rolling back. Caleb attaches his lips back to your neck, deciding to make up the other side, to show the world that you are his and his only.
Look at you. You’re putty in his hand, his to use and play with. Caleb can do whatever he wants with you, the faint taste of cherry from your lip gloss streaked across his own lips, tainting his tastebuds.
“Keep making those pretty sounds,” Caleb bites down on your skin. Your chest pushes into his, nails gripping his hair tighter. He groans, cock twitching behind his pants and boxers. He reaches your collarbone, leaving one final hickey on your exposed chest. The tip of his nose drags up your neck and cover the curve of your chin, lips reconnecting in a fiery kiss.
Your hands drop to his shoulders. One hand stays not he back of his neck while the other slips under the collar of his shirt, your fingernails scraping against his skin. Caleb rocks his hips into yours. Your nails dig into his skin and you whimper.
Caleb pulls you off the wall, his hands grabbing the bottom of your thighs. Your legs tremble against his touch. His Evol forces a door to open and he carries you inside, pulling his face away from yours, a string of saliva connecting your mouths.
The bathroom has a single counter and a single toilet. His powers lock the door. He licks his lips and sets you down on your feet. With one slow turn, you face the bathroom mirror.
It’s dirty, grime and build up prominent on the corners. Lipstick smears and black ink cover the rim of the mirror. Your face sits in the middle. Caleb traps you between his body and the counter. Your hands grip the edge of the countertop, one of his hands resting on top of yours while the other snakes down your side.
You stare into his eyes through the mirror. His smirk sends shocks of electricity between your thighs, your poor panties soaked from the way he handles you. His hand slips under your dress. His fingers make their way to your clothed pussy, dragging across the lace. He chuckles into your ear.
“You’re already so wet for me,” he breathes the words out and into your ear. You close your eyes, head hanging low.
Caleb’s slides in between yours, his foot pushing them open. He slightly bends you over the counter, moving your dress and bunching it up at the bottom of your back. You shudder, feeling his hand squeeze your ass before giving it a slap. You whine and squirm in place but his Evol holds you still.
“Be good for me, pretty bird,” Caleb smirks at the sight of you. You’re so willing, so eager for more. He brushes your hair out of your face. “Look up. I want to see that pretty face of yours.”
You weakly nod and stare at him through the mirror once again. He turns away and slips your panties to the side and slides his fingers over your slick core. You bite back a moan, gaze turning as sharp as his.
You stare at yourself, looking at how your lipstick is completely smeared from your kisses. Your cheeks are a bright shade of pink and your hair is a mess. You slowly blink and gasp when Caleb begins to slowly rub deep, firm circles into your clit.
“Do you want this?” Caleb hums, drunk off of how divine you feel under his touch. You’re unable to say a word, quiet moans falling from your lips as you nod. His gaze darkens. “Say it.”
“Y-Yes,” you stammer. Caleb smirks and slips two fingers inside of you.
You gasp at the sensation, already feeling quite full. You gulp and roll your hips to meet his hand, his fingers pumping inside of you at a steady yet quick pace. He curls his fingers, the digits swiping across your sweet spot, making you cry out in pleasure.
The only sounds that fill the bathroom are your moans, the sound of Caleb’s fingers moving in and out of you, and the sound of Caleb leaving open mouthed kisses on your shoulder and neck. Your hips sway back and forth, fighting against his Evol, and every time you moved too much for his liking, Caleb bit into your neck.
“Caleb! Caleb, p-please!” You cry out. Your walls clench around his fingers. He immediately slides his digits out of you, leaving you hanging. You gasp, suddenly feeling so cold, and turn to him. Before you can say anything, though, Caleb lifts you up with ease, setting you on the bathroom counter.
Your back hits the cold mirror. Your legs tremble, watching as he licks your juices from his fingers. He groans, getting drunk off the taste. He leans in and imprisons your lips in a breathless kiss.
You taste yourself on his lips, your tongues massaging into each other. You pull him close, hooking an arm around his neck as you guide him between your legs. You can feel his clothed cock brush up against your soaked pussy.
Caleb pulls his lips away from yours. He trails kisses form your lips down your neck to your collarbone, dropping below your breasts. He gives them a gentle squeeze, rolling your pebbled nipples between his fingers. The Colonel keeps his eyes on you, kissing your clothed stomach, moving the skirt of your dress out of the way.
He takes a step back, admiring your wet panties, all soaked and ready for him. He hooks his finger under your panties, tugging them down your leg. He slips them off and pushes them into his back pocket. You barely pay attention to it, eyes half open, mind in a complete haze.
Caleb flicks his hand and his powers slowly push your legs open. You’re fully exposed to him. You quiver from the exposure but don’t move, watching as he steps back to you.
He rests his hands on your knees, sliding them up and down your thighs with meticulous movements. He’s dreamt about this moment for many nights. He wants to savor every second with you.
Caleb’s eyes flicker to yours. You watch him, captivated by his actions, as he gets down on his knees in front of you. He places your legs on his shoulders, his Evol disappearing against your skin. He hums to himself and hooks an arm around your leg, keeping you in place.
Caleb slowly rubs circles into your aching clit with his thumb. Your head rolls back, fingers attaching to his hair. You tug on it, quietly urging him to move faster. He chuckles at your shaking body. He leans in. Caleb drags his tongue from the bottom of your entrance all the way up to your clit.
Your breathy moan fills the bathroom. The tip of your heel digs into his back, your grip on his hair tightening. He kisses your clit, lapping at it a few times, before connecting his mouth around the sensitive bud, sucking on it. He slips two fingers inside of you, curling them once he fully pushes them inside.
Your back arches and a loud moan leaves your mouth. Caleb pumps his fingers in and out of you at a furious pace, curling them at just the right moment to make you gasp. He groans as you tug at his hair, eyes closed as he’s ruthless to your now swollen clit.
Caleb removes his fingers from you, unable to control himself, as he slides his tongue along your slit.
Your thighs immediately close around his head. He groans from the hit, his tongue dipping inside you. His Evol pushes your legs right back open, fingers digging into the plump flesh of your inner thigh.
“F-Fuck!” You cry out. Without even realizing it, your hands tug and pull on his hair, moving his face exactly where he needs to go to please you.
His tongue swirls around, dipping inside you as you roll your hips into his mouth. The tip of Caleb’s nose brushes against your clit, causing you to cry out his name in the empty bathroom.
He groans against your soaked pussy, lapping up your wetness, the sounds from his tongue oh so quiet compared to your cries and gasps. He tightens his grip around your thighs, holding you in place as you begin to squirm under his touch.
Caleb buries himself between your thighs. He can barley breathe while his tongue moves at a hellish place, hitting you in all of the right spots, making sure to lick your clit to push you close to the edge before bringing you back to a low. He’s so focused on your pussy that his Evol disappears, letting go of your legs, which you tighten around his head. He doesn’t care, though.
The knot in your stomach tightens. You dig your heels into his back, not holding back on him, as your hips buck up to meet his eager licks. You look down at him, breathless, and meet his drunken stare.
You throw your head and scream out his name, jumping into the feeling of pure bliss and ecstasy. You cum all over his face, your juices coating his mouth and its surrounding areas. Your legs tighten before falling loose, trembling.
Caleb slows his face, precum leaking from his tip, cock aching under his tight pants. He lets you come down on your own time. Your chest, once pushed up into the air, falls. Your back returns against the mirror and you heavily breathe in and out, catching your breath.
Caleb presses sweet and gentle kisses to your clit and your entrance before he moves to your weak thighs. His kisses are sloppy, leaving trails of your enthralling finish on your skin. He rises to his feet, immediately pressing his clothed cock to your exposed pussy.
Your brain is fried. You can barely string together a simple sentence as you try to comprehend what in the fuck just happened to you. You tilts your chin up and Caleb captures your lips in a kiss.
You can taste what he did to you on his lips, melting into his kiss. He grunts inside of your mouth, the vibrations making you shudder. You bite down on his bottom lip, drunk off of your orgasm, and watch as he tears himself away.
Caleb presses his back against the door. The two of you breath deep and haggard breaths. He smirks at you, which you return with a tired chuckle.
Your legs feel heavy, hands unable to hold onto anything. Can you even go another round?
Caleb takes a single step towards you, his hands reaching for his belt, when he’s stopped by your heel being pressed into his twitching member. He groans but keeps the distance, looking at you.
You shake your head, a tipsy giggle escaping your lips. You bite down on your bottom lip and push your heel into his crotch, watching as a mixture of pain and pleasure flash across his face.
“Not yet…” you whisper. You shake your head, trying to get back to rationality and your senses. “I need to go home. Can you take me home?” You bat your eyelashes at him.
Such a tease.
That’s okay…he’ll just make you feel even better next time.
Caleb’s body relaxes. He scoffs, looking away for a split second before nodding. He picks you up with ease, making sure to cover the lower half of your body with your dress. Caleb carries you out of the bathroom.
You rest your head on his shoulder, looking at him with a lazy smile. He carries you through the club, a proud smirk stamped on his face. As soon as you step outside, you close your eyes, allowing sleep to overtake your body when you’re placed in the backseat of a car.
You did not feel good the following morning. You woke up late, mouth dry, dehydration and nausea hindering you from rushing out the door and to the train station.
Did you have time to make breakfast? No.
Did you have time to make yourself look presentable for the outside world? Also no.
All you managed to grab was your suitcase, which was somehow packed, and your purse filled with your wallet, keys, and your charged phone. You raced out of your house and bribed one of your teenage neighbors, whom you haven’t seen in five years, to drive you to the train station. You threw in an extra fifty dollars if they got there in under ten minutes, which they did.
You wear baggy sweatpants that you swipes from your mom’s room, a bedazzled “SLAY” written across your ass. You matched it with an old college hoodie you haven’t worn in forever with a big pair of black sunglasses to keep the light out from your face.
Needless to say: you look like a train wreck.
As soon as you plopped into your assigned window seat on the train back to Skyhaven, you relaxed. You grab the water bottle from your bag and chug it in one go, moisturizing the inside of your dry mouth and throat. You breathe out a sigh of relief, melting into the train’s cushioned chair.
You close your eyes and lean against the window, groaning, wishing for your hunger to go away and for sleep to take you once again.
The worst part about your inevitable, and much needed, hangover?
You remember every single god damn thing you did last night, especially the part where you let Caleb eat you out in the dingy bathroom.
You wince from the memory, covering your ears as you hear your intermingled moans and the sounds of your sloppy kisses.
Go away! Shoo! Leave me alone!
You sense a person sit in the chair beside you. You hold back a groan and scoot away from them, getting close to the window so they can have more space. They chuckle and your heart begins to race. Slowly opening up your eyes, you see a bundle of aluminum foil.
It smells absolutely divine. Just fucking delectable. You knew what was inside. It’s a greasy breakfast sandwich, perfect for a hangover. You take it in your hands, unraveling the sandwich and immediately bite into the everything bagel, the grease from the cheese and meat blending together to create the best savory experience and extraordinary first bite of the day.
It’s so good that you moan a little, head rolling back and hitting the seat’s headrest.
“Is it that good?” They ask. You can barely process what their voice sounds like, going in for a second bite, nodding. They laugh.
The person besides you swipes the sunglasses from your face. You whine and open your eyes, looking at them.
Caleb sits besides you, wiping the smudges away from your lenses with his shirt. You look down and catch a glimpse of his abs, his happy trail prominent against his tanned skin. You move your eyes back up to his, feeling as he places the sunglasses back on your face. He leans in, his breath hot against the shell of your ear.
“And here I am thinking that I was the only person who could make you feel that good.”
This is going to be one long ass train ride.

#caleb x reader#caleb x non!mc reader#caleb x you#caleb love and deepspace#love and deepspace#lads caleb#rcvcgers writings#lads caleb angst#caleb lads angst#lads angst#caleb smut#caleb lads smut
420 notes
·
View notes
Text
take me home, country road
[ao3]
You have nothing on your person apart from a hastily packed suitcase and the dress you came into town wearing, on the run from trouble back home. Too bad John's missing a bride that matches your description. Or: the 1800s (mistaken) mail order bride au (chapter 13)
first chapter >> last chapter
-
You could just tell him.
You consider it at least once a day, particularly in the mornings when John sits up on his side of the bed and hesitates briefly before rising to his feet and going downstairs to start breakfast. You can feel the way he wants to lean over and touch you, and the way he holds himself back. The way he pulls his hand back at the last second from where it hovers over your prone body.
He leaves you in bed with an ache in your stomach so deep that you swear it’ll swallow you whole. But you have no choice but to sigh and sit up as he shuffles around downstairs, the morning well on its way in. There’s nothing to do now but move forward.
The atmosphere in the house is tense. You walk on eggshells around each other, unsure of how to bridge the divide. The eggs jump in the pan and brown at the edges, and outside the feather reed sways in the breeze. You’re weary of each other and yet hardly capable of being apart.
Maybe that’s just on your end.
You’ve taken to watching him from afar in recent days. In the absence of his physical touch, which comes sparingly now, his hands always curled into fists like he’s holding himself back from reaching out and touching you, you’ve resorted to the only thing left to you: the visual realm. That’s what you glut yourself on now, and while it doesn’t fill the hole in you, it soothes the ache.
You watch him with the horses in the paddock, always confident and sure-footed with them. Suspenders straining against the muscle of his back and his shoulders, sweat running in rivulets down his back, the sun golden on his face. At dinner, he collapses into his chair, exhaustion written into every corner of his being, and you drag your eyes over the jut of his stomach, the layer of fat over his muscled core. Hairy forearms braced against the table while he eats (no manners, that one).
Any thought of bolting in the night now seems unwise. Your previous aspirations of freedom seem foolhardy in the light of day. You give it some consideration. Say you had succeeded in escaping—now where would you be? Alone wandering the mountains, parched and starving? Drinking from the ravine? Eating poisonous berries and hawthorn leaves in desperation to have something in your belly? Or hogtied in some bandit’s tent, enduring a fate worse than starvation or death?
You shudder to think of it.
In the days since John brought you home, you haven’t seen hide nor hair of Graves, nor anyone else in pursuit of a woman from back east. No bounty hunters, no officers of the law, no rogue agents. It’s as if they came, found nothing, and simply wandered on through.
You should’ve just waited them out. It’s clear now, what you should’ve done, but who can argue with the past? You’re sick of telling yourself that there might’ve been another way. It doesn’t change the way things are now.
There’s nothing to do now but move forward.
The routine is the same. You head into town every morning and try to say as few words to each other as possible. You glance at each other when the other isn’t looking. The glances grow longer with the days, the stubborn sun refusing to set until well into the evening hours, and your own eyes refusing to part from his form. When you catch him watching you in turn, his eyes are always heady, filled with something like longing.
Outside, the sky is cornflower blue; clouds bulge and drift away.
Life returns to some degree of normalcy, despite the sense of something unresolved hovering in the air. John’s deputies come over again for supper, and with them they bring better table manners this time. At least Soap doesn’t belch at the dinner table and Kyle leaves his hat at the door. Simon is taciturn as always, but that comes now as a comfort.
The men play cards in the living room until even the fireflies go to sleep, until the night is a thin paste spread over the world, the sharp edge of the knife scraping over the craggy limestone peaks and ridges and spreading it evenly. You go to bed alone, the bedroom door cracked open enough to see the flicker of lamplight against the wall, their shadows weaving in and out of it.
He must come to bed at some point because his side of the bed is warm when you wake up the next morning. You put your hand there to soak up his warmth until you can’t excuse lying in bed any longer. Breakfast is, again, quiet, but you feel the compulsion to break the silence bubbling up in your chest. You think if he stares at you even a moment longer, you’ll have no choice but to belt it out.
The brittle morning is interrupted by the arrival of one of John’s deputies. When Simon rips open the door and barges into the house, you nearly scream, watching with wide eyes as he charges towards the back, looking for John. You flit over to the window to watch him go. He finds John out back mucking the stalls in the stable and there’s a brief moment of intense conversation before you watch as John throws the pitchfork against the wall and hurriedly shuts the stables up, following Simon back towards the house.
It’s a flurry of motion after that, John throwing on his clothes haphazardly, not even bothering to properly button up his shirt. You unconsciously follow him up the stairs to the bedroom.
“John?” you ask, uncertainly.
He doesn’t answer you right away. The tension creeps up the length of your back the longer he goes without responding, his mouth set in a flat line.
“John?” you repeat, more force behind your words this time. “What’s wrong?”
“Passenger train up east is about to be robbed,” John finally grunts out in reply, checking his rifle to see if it’s loaded. “Simon got word.”
“How’d he know before it even happened?” you ask, stuck on conversation because you unconsciously want to delay the inevitable. Your heart pounds hard in your chest, images of gunfire and bloodbaths searing the backs of your eyelids.
“Informant. He’s got ‘em all over the county.”
Not once does he slow down or pause to take a breath. You follow him back downstairs and through the house, watching anxiously as he loads his gun and tightens the belt of bullets around his waist. He plucks his hat from where it sits hung up beside the door and then exits out of the house, you trailing along helplessly behind him. The porch creaks ominously under his feet as he makes his way down the stairs towards the horses, where Simon already has John’s other horse saddled up and ready to go.
“When will you—” You can’t finish it. It hangs uselessly in your mouth. He doesn’t answer you.
You follow him to the horses but stumble to a halt when he reaches them first, taking over from Simon and fixing the straps in place. Simon gives you a curt nod when your eyes meet before turning to his horse and heaving himself up onto it briskly, obviously in a rush to get going.
John turns to you when the straps are fixed in place and he has one foot in the stirrups, brows furrowed deep enough to accentuate all the lines in his forehead. He gestures warningly at you with a finger. “You stay here, you hear me?”
Your brows furrow, affronted at the command. “Excuse me?”
“I don’t fancy havin’ to chase after you for a second time, but I will if you try anything funny while I’m gone.”
“Well, you just see here now—”
“You heard me, darlin’—”
“Price,” Simon growls, cutting him off, and it takes you by surprise to see his usual phlegmatic disposition traded in for something choleric. He’s never been one to talk back or act insubordinately, more of a guard dog than a deputy sometimes. His mouth is set in a hard line though, betraying the tension coiled in his bones.
John nods and hauls himself up onto his horse.
“You be good while I’m gone,” John says, casting you one last parting glance.
You screw your lips into a scowl. “Don’t you dare die out there.”
That somehow gets a laugh out of him, as jagged as it is. It makes your stomach twist, the goodbye stagnant on your lips. You refuse to say it.
John’s horse whinnies when he pulls on the reins. He gives a sharp whistle, jolting it into motion, and you watch as he circles around and follows Simon down the path, their horses kicking up dust behind them.
You stand there until their horses disappear over the horizon. Then you linger a little longer.
It dawns on you that John hadn’t said goodbye either. That has to count for something.
Still, you dwell on it over the next hour, hardly able to keep your breakfast down. Any lingering frustration melts away into dread the longer you think about John confronting a train full of armed robbers, his deputies accompanying him or not. The shotguns loaded and strapped to their backs told you enough about what they expected to encounter. The thought makes you shudder.
You try to distract yourself with chores, but that hardly helps. All you can think about when scrubbing the floors is whether someone will have to do the same on the train. You know how hard it is to clean up blood.
Kate comes over later that morning while you’re still pinning the bed sheets and linens to the clothesline. The sound of horse hooves beating against the dirt elicits your attention first, and when you look down the dirt path leading into town, you see her riding towards you on horseback. A dapple grey gelding, bigger than Buttercup but leaner than the horse that John had chased you down on.
“Morning!” she shouts, still far enough away for it to be necessary. Your hand goes up slowly in a wave, half-shielding your eyes from the sun.
She comes up the path quickly, dismounting before her horse has even come to a standstill. It speaks to an element of comfort on a horse that you haven't acquired yet. Jealousy licks a hot tongue up your innards.
“Morning,” you greet tentatively. “Not that I don’t appreciate spending time with you, but don’t you have a store to run?”
Kate shrugs her shoulders, sauntering up the walkway. “Folks chip in when they have to—I’ve got plenty of people in town willing to watch the shop for me. Besides, what’s the point of owning a business if you can’t take a day off every now and then?”
You frown, looking at Kate a bit suspiciously. “Did he tell you to come babysit me?”
You don’t specify who, but it’s obvious enough.
Her lips flatten. “I offered.”
All that does is stoke the flames of your ire. “They seemed in a hurry to leave. Didn’t think John would have time to stop by and ask you to watch his wayward wife.”
“John didn’t do anything. Simon mentioned that he was coming here to get your man.”
“My man,” you mumble a bit sardonically. Still, her words make you let go of some of your anger. “So he didn’t ask you to come?”
Kate shakes her head, lips finally curling up into a half-grin. “No, ma’am. Thought I’d just get Miles to mind the shop and come give you some company.”
Your frown keeps getting deeper. “Don’t ma’am me, Kate. And I don’t need your company if you’ve just come to make fun of me.”
“Hand to heart—I came only to make sure you were alright.” Her smile grows directly inverse to your frown. “Give me a minute to put the horses in the paddock and I’ll be right back.”
You could almost kiss her for that though. You’d been dreading the thought of having to bring Buttercup out into the paddock on your own, but the thought of leaving her in the stables all day had also felt immeasurably cruel. Since getting lost with her in the mountains, you haven’t felt confident enough to be around her on your own. At least Kate’s presence takes some of that stress away.
Not all of it though. Stress eats away at you as the day goes on. You can’t seem to go long without returning to the thought of John being shot or stabbed by one of the bandits on the train. Your mind keeps turning to the image of him lying lifeless on the floor, blood seeping out of a wound in his chest, eyes glazed over and far away.
You chew on your nails until they tear. Kate smacks your hands when she notices.
It’s well past dark by the time John comes home. You notice his arrival first as a flicker of light when you happen to glance out the window. You’d long ago pulled up a chair to settle down beside the window and wait, Kate in a chair on the other side of the room near the oil lamp, flicking through her book, and with the waiting had come a knot in your chest tighter than a fist. A cancerous lump metastasising in your belly, spreading out into every corner of you.
And then someone riding up the path towards the house holds up a lamp that swings with the rhythm of their approach. Your heart all but stops in your chest, fingers halting in the middle of knitting. It beats a furious frenzy now, alert again, alive in your chest. The needles clatter to the floor when you rise to your feet, dashing over to the door to swing it wide open.
“I suppose he’s—” Kate says, but you don’t hear the rest, already gathering up your skirt to hustle down the porch steps and meet him halfway, heart lodged in your throat.
When he notices you hurrying out the door and down the path towards him, John brings his horse to a standstill.
Shadows engulf his form until you get close enough for the lamplight to slash across John’s face, illuminating the deep, sunken troughs under his eyes. He looks exhausted. The top button of his shirt is missing, perhaps ripped out in whatever altercation he’d gone to stop. Your eyes flit over him, looking for any sign of blood or injury, and you find it along the grooves of his knuckles, the skin there torn and bloodied. He hadn’t even bothered to wrap his hands in gauze before coming home.
John smiles down at you. “Well, aren’t you a sight for sore eyes.”
That’s almost enough to make you sway on your feet, lightheaded. You hadn’t realized the toll his sudden absence had taken on you, or the worry that’d been festering in your belly, but as it drains out of you, it almost brings you to your knees.
“Are you well?” you ask, throat tight.
He doesn’t answer you. Instead, he shifts his weight and swings his leg over his horse to dismount, eyes on you the whole time. You can hardly pull your eyes off him, not even for a second. His horse, well-trained enough to not wander off without its rider astride it, huffs out a breath but otherwise remains in place while John walks towards you.
Your heart jumps in your chest when he lifts a hand to cup your cheek and drops a firm kiss to the center of your forehead, the heat of his kiss suffusing through you. The hairs on your arms and the back of your neck lift. Your arms erupt in gooseflesh.
“Never better,” he says when he pulls back. You can feel the warmth of his breath against your forehead when he speaks. It makes everything from your collarbone up go hot.
You hear the door open again. “Hi John,” Kate calls from the door.
“Hi Laswell,” John calls back to her, but his eyes never leave yours.
A heavy silence pregnant with meaning passes. You’re not sure what to read into it, but reading’s never been your strong suit.
“I’ll see myself out then,” Kate says. “Leave you two lovebirds to it.” Her words make you bristle, but even that isn’t enough to pull your eyes off your husband.
“Don’t look so put out—Soap’s just down the path waiting to take you home,” John scoffs. Sure enough, when you peek around him, you notice the slight flicker of light that burns at about the height of a man sitting astride a horse.
Kate rolls her eyes. “So chivalry’s not dead. Thank the Lord for small mercies.”
You don’t hear her go around the side of the house, but she must because she comes back a few minutes later with her horse, lead in hand. Her goodbye goes unnoticed by you or John, barely audible over the sound of the crickets in the bushes. You come back to yourself only when her horse takes off down the path towards Soap, and by then your voice is too faint, the words evaporating off your tongue.
The moment finally bursts when John shifts his weight and winces. You frown. “You’re hurt.”
He huffs. “Just a sore rib. Nothing worth fussin’ over.”
“I’ll be the judge of that.” Your eyes flick down to his bloodied knuckles. “Your hands need tending to anyway. We should get inside.”
John nods. “I’ll put Chiron away and then come in.”
“Chiron?”
“This boy here.” His horse chuffs when John pats his neck lightly, smoothing a hand down the length. It slots into your mind—another piece of this place assimilated into your being. Another name you’ll never be able to shake.
You hurry back inside while he takes Chiron around the side of the house towards the stables, the lamp still swinging from his hand. It’s how you track him from the window. It’s too late now for them, but you remember staring off into the distance earlier, watching the fireflies flicker in and out of view, gold will-o-wisps hovering over the fields. Now it’s quiet, and nothing outside moves. Even the moon hides behind dark clouds.
You wait by the window until you see John come out of the stables, headed back towards the house. Only then do you exhale.
He sits at a chair in the living room and spreads his legs, forcing you to step between them to get close enough to treat him. You bandage his torn knuckles under the light of the oil lamp in the corner of the room. John doesn’t so much as flinch when you clean them, gently inspecting the wounds to remove any debris that might’ve gotten in. He’s a good patient; hardly makes a sound as you wrap the gauze around his knuckles.
“Do you want me to call the doctor in the morning?” you ask, then start a bit at the sound of your own voice, inexplicably loud in the relative silence of the room.
John shakes his head. “Don’t bother. Wasn’t anything too serious.”
You frown. “Are you sure? I don’t want to risk it getting infected—”
He turns his hands over in your loose hold, curling his fingers around yours. You blink at the stark contrast between his and your hands. His fingers are thicker than yours, swollen at the joints, and the skin of his palms is calloused, rough to the touch. You’ve felt them over every part of you—loose at your waist, gripping the nape of your neck, prying your thighs apart. Holding your hand. Sunk deep into your quim.
You can recall the feel of his touch from memory now.
“It’s not that bad, darlin’,” he rasps, dragging his thumb back and forth over your fingers. “Y’did a good job fixin’ me up. You’re a good little nurse.”
“I’m no substitute for proper medical care,” you snip, still frowning.
“Ah, if I die, I die.”
“That’s not funny,” you snap, abruptly incensed, and the joking twist of his lips unfurls at that, the creases around his eyes smoothing out. He looks at you like there’s something new writ large on your face.
There’s a tremble in your lower lip and a tremor in your hands that you hadn’t noticed until now. Once you notice it, it’s impossible to shake; your lip wobbles when you have to pinch back your tears. A stubborn one nearly leaks out until you sniff and blink it away.
“Now where’s this all coming from?” John asks, voice pitched low and intimate, just for the two of you.
His voice laps over your bones like bourbon on the rocks, glistening amber in the setting sun. Except it’s dark now and there’s not a drink in the world that could dilute the emotions welling up in you. You’d be a blubbery drunk anyway; you’ve always been something of a sad sack.
“I thought you might come back hurt,” you whisper. “And you did.”
His thumb strokes over your unblemished knuckles and he lifts your hands to his mouth to kiss the very same spot he just brushed. “I’m sorry to make you worry, darlin’. I meant nothing by my words. We’ll go to the doctor tomorrow.”
The bur of his beard tickles the back of your hand. His acquiescence brings some of your candor back. “Well, only if you want to.”
“Don’t get smart with me, wife—”
He stops short when you giggle, his eyes widening infinitesimally. You wonder if it’s the first time he’s ever heard you laugh. It’s not something you can help though. The joy spills up from you unbidden.
John sighs. “We’ve been making a right mess of things, haven’t we?”
You go to say something, but all that comes out is a soft hum of agreement.
It’s in front of you again. An opportunity to tell him everything, to make things right. To land in the soft sediment of truth and come out unscathed and better for it. All you need do is open your mouth and say it; say that there was a man back east that tried something untoward and you did what you had to in order to protect yourself. You think on some level John would understand that.
Again you open your mouth. Again nothing comes out.
There’s love and then there’s thinness, words preserved in amber. He takes your whole world in his hands and you want to say, is it safe here? Can I call this a home?
There's love and then there's a heaving mass of recollection. It is an ancient thought: to love and be loved in verity, in one's own sphere of understanding. You don’t yet know if that’s possible for you, but you’re starting to think that maybe here is something close to that. Something gentle like wildflowers springing up from beside train tracks, the sprawling emptiness of the plains on either side.
Still, it is not enough to make you tell the truth. Maybe now the consequences are different. You think less of a jail cell and more of being deprived of this man that holds your hands tenderly and looks up at you with such clear affection.
If love has a way of speaking, it is marbles in the mouth; it masticates its own words. It chokes them back out of fear, out of longing to keep things right.
So instead, you ask, “Can we just put it behind us and move on?”
John lifts a hand and slides it around the back of your neck, drawing you in for a kiss that makes your heart melt in your chest, caramel-rich. You moan into his mouth when his tongue traces over your lips, hands dropping to sink into the lapels of his shirt, pulling him closer to you.
When he pulls back, the folds around his eyes are crinkled, lips pulled up into a fond smile. “Already forgotten.”
You exhale. This is reconciliation. It comes home limping and bruised, but it comes home to you.
#ceil writing#cod mw2#cod x reader#price x reader#john price x reader#price/reader#john price/reader#captain john price
1K notes
·
View notes
Text



— caught in a blue summ. but to love her is to need her everywhere (a gentle kind of love) charles x fem reader, wc 4.1k ish, no warnings, no y/n! fueled by one single praise from @silverstonesainz
You’re three paragraphs into an all-too-lengthy work email when he sits down in the chair next to you silently, one elbow on the sage green tablecloth. He sits in the chair sideways, something you can both see and feel, even without looking away from your phone screen. His presence is accompanied by the gentle thud of two heavy glasses.
You look over briefly—long enough to suggest to him that his presence is mildly perturbing—and then return your attention to the email. You can hardly concentrate over the jazz band in the corner of the hall, rotating through their collection of love songs sung in different romance languages, and now a strange man has set up camp next to you, only further reminding you why you shouldn’t be responding to emails when you’re out of office.
“Hi,” he says, after more seconds of silence.
You finish your email before you give him the time of day. “Hi,” you smile, soft but forced. “Who are you?”
“Charles,” He smiles, holding his hand out to shake yours. You stare at his waiting hand until he takes it away. “Nice to meet you,” he laughs, moving one of the drinks closer to you. “For you. White Negroni. Céline told me it’s your drink.”
You give him a sideways glance before looking past him, scanning the reception hall for your friend. She should stand out in her bridesmaid dress. The wedding invite had specifically requested guests to follow a color code, and nobody was wearing that shade besides the bridesmaids. Your eyes finally land on her, glass of champagne in her hand, long blonde hair falling over her shoulders, leaning over to whisper something to the groom—her brother. No doubt the two of them conspiring, a theory only proved when Mathéo’s eyes land on yours from across the room. You roll your eyes.
“How do you know Céline?” you ask, as if half the guests here tonight aren’t related to her.
“I went to school with Mathéo,” he says, and you nod slowly, confusion growing, curiosity peaked. “I suppose technically I went to school with Céline as well.”
“I went to school with Céline,” you say, and Charles furrows his brows.
“Are you sure?” He asks, and you laugh softly, picking up the drink he’d offered, pulling the garnish off the lip of the glass and dropping it on top of the ice. “I’m serious!” He says, matching your laugh, taking a sip of his drink. “Because I would remember you. And I do not remember you.”
“I’m sure,” you shake your head, bringing the glass to your lips. “Lycée. Première.”
Charles nods. “That is why. I was graduated by then.”
Someone laughs so loud at the next table over that it steals both of your attention. It’s the mother-of-the-bride, and she's visibly drunk in a way that only a divorced French socialite can manage. The sudden attention tones her down, and the room is once again filled with wealthy laughter and crisp clinking crystal glasses.
You love weddings. You love this wedding; the delicate scent of blooming lavender, the smoked salmon canapés and delicate foie gras pâté that sit half-eaten at most of the tables, the perfectly chilled glasses of champagne waiting to be toasted, and the sun. The golden sun that casts itself across the terraces and into the tall windows, painting the dancing figures in golden hues.
And then he’s speaking again, and you look back at him, and the sun casts a warm shadow through his brown hair that you're noticing for the first time. “Parles-tu français?” he asks.
You wince, tilting your head to the side, holding up two fingers pinched together. “Un petit peu. Je suis grec,” you explain, pulling your hair around to drape over one shoulder.
“Ah,” he says. “How do you say, ‘Would you like to dance?’ in Greek?”
You smile gently, taking another sip of your drink. It’s important to keep yourself paced. Especially when you’re staring at someone who looks like that. “Θα χορέψεις μαζί μου?” You finally say, and he stares at you blankly. The expression forces a laugh from you, which in turn pulls one from him.
“Again?”
“Θα χορέψεις μαζί μου?”
Charles nods for what feels like a very extended period, before downing the remainder of his drink. “Tha horeps…” he winces at his pronunciation so you don’t have to, “mazi-moo?”
You smile at his hopeful expression, and wonder if he’s more hopeful for a correct pronunciation or an agreement to dance. You shrug, swirling your drink around the glass, looking past him to your friend again.
She’s watching you this time and wears a grin the size of the wedding. She holds up both her thumbs, and then makes a heart with her hands, pretends to have it beating out of her chest. You shake your head, smiling softly, eyes moving back to Charles.
“One dance.”
— — —
Your feet drag across the stone pathway like maybe you’ll slow yourself down and get to spend a half-second longer on the phone with him. You hear it over the voices of drunken uncles pouring from open windows and the radio sat on one of the sills playing a Christiana classic. The air is warm, but dry, and the elastic at the end of your braid tickles the skin on your back while you walk.
Ahead of your scraping shoes, a cat cleans their paw in the yellow of a porch light. You’re in Paros, and life is so sweet you’re finding porch lights and the smell of your yia-yia’s karidopita to be the most romantic thing in the world.
“I’m nearly home,” you hum into your phone’s receiver. He laughs on the other end, and you wish all the aunts with the drunken, ballad-performing husbands could hear it so they’d stop asking when you’re going to settle down. It would make sense to them, then, the way you behave about Charles. It would all make sense if they heard him laugh, if they could imagine his dimples.
“Well, you should probably hang up, then,” he says. You roll your eyes. Your cheeks ache from smiling all evening. Your cousin joked before dinner that your face was going to freeze like that if you weren’t careful.
“I should,” you agree, but you don’t hang up. You stay on the line, quiet, and stop in front of the resident street cat—he’s small and sweet and purrs against your skin when you run your hand over its sleek black fur, scratch your nails under its chin. You’d bring him home if you knew he didn’t belong to someone, to everyone. “Or you could.”
He laughs again. It’s like honey. You’d swan dive into it if you could, drown all slow and blissfully. “I’m not the one nearly home,” he retorts. I could get far from home again, you think. You could do another lap around the neighborhood. You’d already done it thrice, and then two more times after that. What’s another in the grand scheme of things? “I’ll call you again in the morning,” he says, like it’s routine. You suppose it’s sort of becoming that.
You take a seat on your porch steps. Voices pour out louder, now. They’ve gotten rowdier with every lap you’ve done. A cousin pulls the old squeaky door open behind you, and you jump in your seat, turning around to see who’s busted you. They hold their hands up defensively, mouth a quick sorry like they’d walked in on you changing, and disappear back into the house. You pull your braid over your shoulder, twirl it around your finger carefully. Nervously, you ask:“Do you think we speak too often?”
“Why do you say that?”
You shrug like he can see it. “We talk too much to be friends.”
“Do we?” You imagine him quirking a brow goofily, based solely on his tone of voice.
“Yeah,” you chuckle, dropping your braid. “Yeah, I think we do.”
Charles sighs. All you can smell is cinnamon and walnuts. You wonder which one of your cousins ate the heel of the bread while you were out walking. “Well, good thing I would never be just friends with you, then.”
The apples of your cheeks burn like they’d been pinched. You flatten your dress over your legs and a careful giggle tumbles from your lips, teeth biting down on the stupid smile there. “Good thing.”
“Goodnight?”
“Yeah,” you nod. “Goodnight.”
— — —
It’s raining in Milan when you pinky promise your best friends that you and Charles aren’t dating.
The sky has been threatening all afternoon, dull and gray and humidity that was anything but friendly to your hair. It poured through the window like your own personal heatwave every time you walked past the open kitchen window,coated the tiled countertop in an irritable condensation.
It came wafting through the air with the smell of the impending storm when you opened the door to your friends. Finally, after hours of building up, heavy raindrops patter against the porcelain of your kitchen sink, forcing you to hastily close the window while giggles pour from your friends’ mouths.
Between your two hands, you can count the number of times the lot of you have been in the same time zone since graduation, let alone the same city. You’d spent the entire humid day wiping condensation off the counters and cutting cheese into perfect cubes and gathering the nicest bundles of grapes you could from the three grocery shops within walking distance.
The sound of the storm against the glass is drowned out by red-wine laughter and tales of big cities and big dreams, all so vastly different. You sit with your legs crossed underneath you, phone face-up on your thigh, the stem of an empty wine glass pinched between two fingers, twisting the glass around mindlessly.
Your phone buzzes, for the fourth time in eight minutes. And for the fourth time in eight minutes, you pick it up, abandoning glass on the cluttered coffee table next to the week-old vase of pink anemones.
Stop texting me, he’s messaged. Enjoy your time with your friends.
You smile softly, your incriminating grin illuminated bright OLED white in contrast to the soft yellow lamp lighting the dim room. You stop texting me, you replied, because you’re a pig-tailed girl on the schoolyard when you talk to him, your normally composed, carefully developed persona melting into a puddle of mush at the mere thought of him.
Can’t, he responds. I am bored.
Why? You’re never bored.
“Oh, my God!” your best friend, Roma, teases in broken English, her Italian accent not nearly as light as the cube of Gorgonzola she’d tossed at your head from the other end of the sofa. “Who are you speaking to?” She questions.
“Just a friend,” you say too quickly, too defensive for anyone in the room to believe.
Roma quirks her brow at you, curious grin painted on her face. “Yeah? Just a friend?”
“I’m serious,” you insist, turning your phone off. You set it face down on the table, and it vibrates there almost immediately, all of your friends’ eyes watching for your reaction. The corners of your lips tremble, fighting a soft smile, and you shrug, bringing your empty wine glass to your lips, turning your head up to the ceiling, the last few drops of red falling through your lips. And then it vibrates again, the bright colors of your background pouring out in a soft ring of light around your phone. You still don’t flinch, but Roma does, lurching forward and snatching it up before you have time to react.
“‘Because,” she reads. “‘I’m normally speaking with you at this time,’” she looks over to another friend, grinning,“From Charles. With the emoji that does like this,” she says, mimicking the blushing emoji you have next to his name.“But with the pink on the cheek, yes?” She continues explaining.
You sink into the sofa, popping that cube of cheese into your mouth before gathering up the baby hairs and bangs that had fallen loose from your ponytail, carefully twisting the hair into a tiny, thin braid coming out from the middle of your hairline.
“Just your friend?” Roma questions, and you don’t have to look up from your distraction braid to know she’s raising her brows and grinning at you.
— — —
You sit next to him in the fourth row of church pews, one leg crossed over the other, desperately wishing the wedding mass program that sat on your lap was a paper fan, not yet having resorted to the lengths some of your fellow guests had gone to and actually using the cardstock to cool down.
One leg is crossed over the other, the tip of your heel-clad foot threatening to tap the back of the pew in front of you with every awkward, uncomfortable roll of your ankle you attempt. At least your dress is sleeveless, you think. Charles is not as lucky, a formal suit perfectly fitted to his frame, one arm draped behind you over the back of the pew, his fingers mindlessly twirling one of the tiny braids that riddle your ponytail. Neither of you speak nearly enough Spanish or know nearly enough people for this to be any sort of enjoyable.
“Do you understand them at all?” You whisper, your head falling onto his shoulder. “Because I do not.”
“Absolutely not,” he whispers back, kissing the top of your head, his hand finding yours, interlocking in your lap. “And I am about to die from heatstroke.”
You nod. “You, me, and the rest of the church,” you sigh, pretending not to hear the crying baby or the stressed mother in the back of the church. You figure she has the eyes of enough judgy relatives to drown out any soft sentiments from a stranger. “Can they just kiss and wrap it up?” You ask, and as is on cue, the newlyweds are locking lips under the cathedral candlelight.
“Oh shit,” Charles giggles, the two of you hurrying to stand with everyone else in the room who understood what's been happening for the last hour and a half. You hastily adjust the skirt of your dress, feeling quickly to make sure you hadn’t sweat-stained the fabric, or worse, the bench you’d been all but stuck to. “Thank God,” he says, just above a whisper, just loud enough for you to hear.
The church quickly funnels out of the church behind the couple, filing into the cars that were driving to the reception location. Police officers line the road on either side, cameras and strangers gathered at their barriers. You walk out with your hand interlaced in his, watching every step you take down the steep concrete stairs.
“Is it like this every time one of you gets married?” You ask, staring at the uniformed officers. They’re a stark contrast to the summer air, to the leaves of the trees drenched in sunlight, and to the flowers buzzing with bees. It feels like you’re at a royal wedding—the ones with professional watchers and ceremonies that get broadcast to millions of people around the world. But it’s not that. It’s just your boyfriend’s teammate.
“Um,” Charles shrugs. “I’m not sure, to be honest,” he admits. “I don’t think so,” he continues, letting you duck into the black sedan first. “I think it’s just his family.”
“Gosh,” you breathe out, relaxing in the calm of the air-conditioned car. “It’s like a whole production.”
“I know,” he shakes his head, uncapping a water bottle that was waiting in the car door cup holder and passing it to you first. “It’s like they’re Spanish royalty or something,” he laughs.
You nod animatedly, drinking down the water before passing the now half-full bottle to him. “Exactly like that!” you laugh.
— — —
“Three wishes,” you grin, spinning around to face him, antique Arabian oil lamp in your hand.
The second-hand shop smells like vintage leather and dusty velvet. La Dolce Vita plays from the store radio, and it sounds like it’s on vinyl even though it isn’t. The store is full of gaudy outfits and gaudier decor, and there in the middle of it is you and Charles, the ladder laughing every time the former makes the same joke about twenty different items, each uglier than the one before, being ‘just what I was looking for.’
“I wish for unlimited wishes, obviously,” He says, and you shake your head.
“Absolutely not. That goes against Genie rule number three.”
It’s chilly, the early morning dew still crisp in the air. A gentle breeze pours in from the propped open door, and with it comes the smell of fresh pastries and espresso from the bakery next door. It smells gentle and warm and makes the vintage store feel like your yia-yia’s house on the last morning of your last visit to her house.
You’re wearing your favorite pair of jeans, a pair of pink sneakers, and a sweater that was your favorite before you shrunk it a size in the dryer the day before. You cover up the fashion faux pas with a tan wool coat and long, hardly managed hair. He’s dressed like you, but elevated. Always more elevated than you, even if the only brand he seems to bring into his closet anymore is his friend’s.
“Ah,” he nods, pulling you closer by the opening of your coat. “Of course,” he smiles, speaking softly. “And what are the other rules?”
“Oh, you know,” you shrug, dimples digging into your cheeks at the mere sight of his. “No bringing people back from the dead, no making someone fall in love,” you hum, “and no wishing for more wishes.”
Charles quirks a brow, dropping his head to the side. “Those are stupid rules,” he protests, pouting. “What if those were all three of my wishes?”
You shrug, holding up the lamp to his eye level. “Got to get educated on Genie’s, man,” you tease, cheeks aching. “I don’t know what to tell you,” you giggle, stepping even closer. “Them’s the rules.”
“Them’s the rules,” he repeats. “How about…” he says, leaning in, still grinning. “Wish one,” he says, pressing a soft kiss into your lips. “Wish two,” he says, repeating the action. “And,” he grins, pulling away momentarily to tuck a piece of hair behind your ear. You think you could die on the spot, melt right into a puddle on the shop floor. Your face is so hot. “Wish three?” he says, and as a surprise to nobody, leans in to kiss you again.
“Nope,” you shake your head, desperate for another breeze to blow through the shop, to cool you down, to keep you standing. “I expected better wishes. Very… μη πρωτότυπο.”
“Mi protótypo?” he repeats, and your grin grows.
“Not original.”
— — —
Charles’ apartment couldn’t be more different than yours, and not even solely on a decoration level. Fundamentally, you two come from two different spaces, and trying to merge those spaces has been nothing short of a treat.
Not that your decor styles are the same either, because you think his are one-of-kind. So one of a kind, that the two of you had gone through each other’s apartment with yard-sale stickers from the corner store, tagging everything you refused to mesh with in red, and everything you refused to part with in green. Who else can say they have three dozen racing helmets and trophies in the living room, a blown-up shot of a homeless American man on their dining room wall, and a piano that costs more than your net worth in the foyer? That is some perfectly Charles Leclerc decor, and if you had told yourself once that you would be endeared by all of it, you’d have laughed in your face.
But you do. You adore it, the way it perfectly encapsulates her personality. And you adore him, and the way he put a green sticker on a total of seven things in his whole apartment because he wanted to make sure it felt like your space too.
“Why did you not label any of these boxes?” He asks, the two of you stood in his dining room. In your dining room. In the dining room.
“Um…” you hesitate. “You know, I was going to. I really was,” you nod, staring at at least twenty cardboard boxes, each of them completely indistinguishable from the others, not a single identifying marker on any of them.
“And then?” He asks, shoving his hands in his pockets, rocking on his heels, the herringbone hardwood creaking under his feet with the shifting of his weight.
“And then I realized I packed my Sharpie,” you nod.
“Mmm,” he hums, scratching his beard, his fingers moving over his face and into his hair, combing through it stressfully. He’s so patient with you. Hopelessly patient with you, and would never admit it. “But you could not find the box it was in?” You shake your head, agreeing with his statement. “Because you forgot to label any of the boxes?”
“Because I didn’t label any of the boxes,” you confirm, an apologetic look painted across your face, eyes soft and sweet, attempting to remind him just how much he loves you. “And suddenly the movers were there. And now I’m here.”
“Oh,” he sighs, wrapping his arms around your chest from behind, kissing the top of your head. “I love you so much,” he says. “I love you so much,” he repeats, voice blank, unconvincing.
“Yeah,” you nod. “I was thinking we start in the dining room,” you joke, smiling softly, pulling a chuckle from his lips. You can always count on him to laugh at your stupid jokes. Even when he’s pretending not to be annoyed with you.“I’m sorry,” you say softly, kissing the forearm crossed over your chest.
“I know,” he hums. “It’s okay. It won’t be too bad.”
— — —
A soft summer breeze floats through the air, blows through the linen pinned to clotheslines in the neighborhood. It brings with it salt air and the careful wafts of cinnamon and nutmeg and eggplants and tomatoes. You sip a glass of Retsina, ignoring the bitter and accepting the sweet.
The olive trees are draped in endless strings of lights, and gentle, traditional music plays from the live band and the wooden stage your uncles had built with your dad. Your Yia-yia moves around from table to table pinching the cheeks of your cousins, reminding the single girls to check their shoes for their prince charmings.
The sun is setting on the water, golden shadows cutting around the soft cement architecture. The air is light. Charles wears a tan linen suit with an evil-eye boutonniere. You wear a white dress and a cold coin in your left shoe.
“You told them no to the money, right?” He asks softly, sipping a glass of white.
“I did,” you nod. “Well. I told my parents,” You shrug. “Whether or not they convey the message to the four hundred other people here, I guess we’ll find out.”
“It’s weird, no? A first dance and a last dance?”
You smile softly, watching a stray cat hurry down an alleyway. “My family keeps coming up to us and pretending to spit,” you giggle, “But the second dance is where you draw the line in the weird sand?”
“None of it’s weird” he shakes his head, reaching to tuck a curly piece of hair behind your ear, adjusting your veil accordingly. “It’s all you,” he says, leaning in to kiss you softly. His lips are soft, and he tastes like apples and melon and citrus, as easy to kiss as ever. “And I love you.”
“Ah,” you nod, a teasingly soft smile parting your lips. “He loves me,” you say, pretending to wipe sweat from your brow. “I was worried.”
“You act very worried,” he grins. “Wedding dress and all.”
“Oh,” you feign surprise as if you've noticed the setting for the first time. “This old thing? The one that costs a quarter of my salary?”
Charles nods, humming. “That’s the one. Keeps taking my damn breath away.”
You look down at yourself, an innocent, girlish smile draped over your lips, the pink shades of the sunset painting themselves warm over your cheeks. A gust of wind blows through the space, the breeze gently blowing through your veil, through the fabric of your dress.
“Are you ready?” You ask, watching the sun creep closer to the horizon, be swallowed up inch by inch into the sea, using your hand as a shade-visor. “No time like the present, right?” You add, downing what’s left in your glass. “Our second dance as newlyweds.”
“Our second dance,” Charles nods, holding out his hand, waiting for your fingers to interlock with his. “Let’s go.”
#charles leclerc#charles leclerc fic#charles leclerc imagine#charles leclerc fanfic#charles leclerc x reader#formula 1#f1#f1 fic#f1 x reader#cl16#cl16 x reader#cl16 imagine#f1 fanfic#f1 fandom#ferrari#technically a cameo from#carlos sainz#but mostly just#charles leclerc fluff#charles leclerc x you#charles leclerc smut#tell a friend to tell a friend
758 notes
·
View notes
Text
AT YOUR EX’S WEDDING - LN4




summary : Getting invited to your ex’s wedding isn’t ideal. Going with a douchebag from your highschool is even worse. But meeting a very attractive man in the deep of a garden? That might just make it all worth it.
listen up : suggestive comments! alcohol! wrote this forever ago and never finished but suddenly got motivated so here ya go! no part 2!!
words : 2621
⋆。‧˚⋆
I wasted the prettiest dress I own for my ex’s wedding and a guy who’s staring at my tits. “You look upset…” His grubby little hands rub my arms, “We can leave.”
I eye the guy, blonde and pale. I shake my head and down my champagne, “I’d bet you would love that…”
I don’t look back as I walk away, just grab another glass of champagne and walk out into fresh air. My heels are hurting my feet and the setting sun is blinding me.
As soon as I get into the garden though, I feel like I can finally breathe. I can’t lie, this place is beautiful. The sky is pink and blue, the gardens are green and I can’t see them ending anytime soon.
I walk slowly, letting the cool air wash over me. I’ve got to hand it to him, his dream really did come true. He used to talk to me about a picture perfect wedding, big and white. Something that showed the value of his marriage.
We disagreed a lot after that.
I sigh and sip my drink, turning a corner to see a huge fountain. It’s surrounded by flowers, an array of colors that compliment the bright green and setting sun.
I walk slowly around it, listening to the water and faint music from the wedding.
I stop when I see someone sitting on the grass, his head leaning back on the stone of the fountain. I can’t see his whole face, just his side profile.
He’s got dark hair, curly and cut into a messy mullet. He’s wearing a suit, some buttons undone and his tie loose around his neck. In his hand lies a bottle of champagne and when he brings it to his lips, his jaw goes sharp.
I take another step and he clearly hears me because his head cocks towards me quickly. “Sorry.” I mumble as he stares blankly at me.
“Uh…” He stands quickly, looking disheveled and surprisingly attractive, “Don’t worry.” My gaze goes to the bottle in his hand and when his eyes follow, he laughs a bit, “Want me to top you off?” He eyes my own empty glass. He has an accent and I don’t know why it catches me so off guard. Maybe because he got instantly hotter?
I hesitantly smile, he’s oddly welcoming and when I step forward, he pours the sparkling drink into my glass, “Thank you. I did not want to go back in there just for a drink.” I joke but the expression on his face makes me nervous, “Shit, you’re not one of the groomsmen are you?”
He shakes his head, clearly finding this funny as a smile tugs at his lips, “No, Lucky for you, I'm just a plus one.” I nod slowly as he plops himself back down, sitting on the fountain's edge this time. He looks up at me, holding out his hand, “I’m Lando.”
Something about him feels familiar. His grip is strong and his ring makes a noise against mine. “Y/n.” I sit down next to him, sipping my drink and breathing out.
“Why are you so adamant on not going back in there, Y/n?” He says my name softly and with his accent it makes me want to melt.
I can’t help but laugh, “My ex is the groom, My date has tried to kiss me four times, and the groom's mother is drunk and won’t stop asking me why I broke up with him.”
He lets out a big laugh, “Fuck. Those are great reasons to not go back.” Shaking his head, he takes another swing of the champagne, coughing a bit.
“Why are you hiding out here?” I ask, pushing my hair behind my shoulder.
“My date knows the bride but has left me for a groomsman.” He shrugs, “Not too upset though, just wanted something to do tonight.”
“Very interesting. Normal people would go out and see a movie for entertainment, not go to the wedding of someone you don’t know.”
“Well, I've met you so it worked out for the best.” He gives me a little glance and I notice his eyes. The sun is almost down but the light still shines in them, green and a bit brown.
I shake my head, “You don’t even know me.”
He scrunches his nose, keeping eye contact, “Yet my nights looking up.”
I take the bottle out of his hand because my glass is empty, bringing it to my lips and letting the liquid into my mouth. “Something about you is familiar.”
He raises a brow, taking the bottle back. “Oh?”
I would have to remember him, he’s too pretty for me to forget. “I can’t figure out what. Maybe you just have one of those faces. But then again I think I would remember you.”
He laughs, “Well clearly not because you recognize me from somewhere.” I frown, looking at his face intently, “Come on… think about it.”
So he must know me then. Otherwise, where else would I know him from? “I definitely haven’t met you, the accent alone would stick. So what is it then? Do we have mutals on instagram?”
Lando just smiles softly, “I’ve never met you. I can say that for sure.”
“So what is it? God don’t tell me you’re a model-”
“You think I'm hot enough to be a model? I’m flattered.” I roll my eyes but secretly I bite back a smile.
“You’ve definitely got the attitude of a model. Are you famous?” A slight change in his expression gives it away. “You are! What do you do? Is it embarrassing that I don’t know you?”
Lando shakes his head, “Unless you know the sport.” So he’s an athlete. His build sort of gave that away, even under the suit I can tell. But he’s not very tall and I honestly hate sports so I don’t think I'm going to get this one.
I sigh, leaning back on my hands, “I give up.”
Lando laughs again, the type of sound that makes you feel accomplished because you made it happen, “Maybe i’ll tell you later.”
“Mysterious.” I look him up and down, “That’s hot.”
He gives me a funny look, like he’s trying to figure me out, “I like you.”
I laugh a bit, looking around at the now dark gardens, the moonlight shining and matching with fairy lights around us, “Probably because you still don’t know me.”
“Fine then, Y/n.” His eyes sparkle as they land on me again, scooting closer to me. “Tell me about yourself.”
“That’ll be easy, I love talking about myself. What do you want to know?”
“Why did you and your ex break up?”
“Getting right into it I see…” I take another sip, “I broke up with him because he was obsessed with our future, not even in a cute way like genuinely wanted me to drop out of school. We dated in college after being friends for all of highschool.”
“So… why were you invited? I mean, no offense, but I wouldn’t invite my ex to my wedding.”
“Who knows? I was drunk when I replied to the invite and clearly did not think it through. My ex is nice though, it’s not like I'm getting champagne drunk because I'm sad, I'm happy for him.” I drink more from the bottle.
“Where did you go to college?”
“Charleston. How about you?”
“I didn’t go, I barely finished mandatory school.” I pull my heels off as he says, “I’ve never been to Charleston, I heard it’s pretty.”
“Very.” A chill washes over me as the night seems to rest over us, “How do you know your date for tonight?”
He scratches the back of his neck, looking sheepish, “Sort of a one time thing…” Hookup. Got it. “But she was talking about how she didn’t have a date and how it would be sad so I just said I could go. Got a bit awkward when she paraded me around just to ditch me.”
“Well it all turned out well didn’t it? Now that we’re here.” His eyes are so soft and endearing as he listens to me speak.
“Why do you keep swerving your dates kiss attempts? Bad breath?” I laugh and bury my face in my hands.
“God it’s so stupid. I knew him in highschool and he always wanted to hook up with me so I knew he’d say yes… But he’s a total tool!”
Lando thinks this is quite hilarious, “Well then,” He holds up the bottle, “To our shitty dates and weird ass night.”
He pours some into my mouth, misses a bit and swears before holding my jaw and pouring more in as I’m about to start choking on my laugh and champagne.
“Fuck.” He giggles as he tries to wipe my mouth but ends up just rubbing his hand over my face, “Sorry!” He drinks as I swallow and let out a much needed laugh.
“I should handle champagne better at this point.” I raise a brow at Lando’s words and it reminds me that I truly know nothing about him.
“Can I try to guess what you play?” A slow smirk tugs at his lips, turning to me and nodding.
“Go ahead, love.” I pretend I don’t hear the nickname and try to think.
“Well it’s not football.” I screw up my face and sit criss cross to look at him better, “Tennis?” He shakes his head.
“What’s your favorite color?” I guess it’s a sport for a question then.
“Green.” Looking into his eyes and saying that feels oddly intimate. “Volleyball?”
He makes a face, “No. Favorite hobby?”
“Reading.” I shiver a bit at the cool air, “Does it involve a ball?”
I think he’s going to say yes but when he shakes his head, I frown. “Skateboarding?”
“Nope. What do you like to read?”
“Romance and mystery. Is it swimming?” That could make sense, he’s fit enough but not exactly slim.
“No. Have you ever dyed your hair?” I laugh at the question because it’s so out of the blue.
“When I was really young I had blue and pink highlights.” His eyebrows raise at this, “Oh shut up it was a great phase!”
“I’m sure it was. And I can't judge because I had a buzz once.” I cover my mouth at his words. I can not imagine that. His hair is like the cherry on top.
“I will be needing photos of that later… My last guess is gymnastics!”
“Still no.” He smiles as I groan and take another drink of champagne, “I drive.”
I sit up straighter and I'm dead serious when I say, “Monster trucks?”
He laughs out loud again, “Formula 1 cars.” My jaw actually drops at this.
“I would never have guessed! I mean, I don’t know a lot about Formula 1 anyways… but doesn’t that mean you’re like really rich?” He looks a bit shy at this which means i’m 100% right.
“And humble.” I nod.
“You really didn't know?”
“Nope. My family is into soccer and soccer only, so I never really cared about anything else.”
“I like that.”
“You like that I know nothing about your job?”
“Absolutely. I hate when people know it… Especially women.”
“Oh? So I'm a ‘woman’ to you now?”
A little smile settles on his face while he looks anywhere around the garden but me, “I think I'm a good judge of character. And I like yours.”
I’ve never had a guy express his interest in me within an hour of meeting, especially one that I found in a garden like a fucking fairy.
“Does that usually work on women?” I decide to tease him a bit.
“Not sure, I’ve never tried it. Is it working on you?” I suddenly have the feeling that he’s being serious. I can tell he’s a flirt, that’s obvious enough with who he’s here with.
Yet I just stand up and take the bottle with me, walking away from him. He follows, a rustling of his clothes and the sudden warmth of his jacket over my shoulders surprises me.
I don’t thank him, I just watch him walk quietly next to me, his eyes scanning the night sky. “What’s your last name?”
“Trying to figure out how you’ll sound with it?” I roll my eyes, “Norris. Don't lie though, Y/n Norris sounds good.”
“You’re ridiculous.”
“I get that a lot.” We continue walking, my feet feeling the grass as I realize Lando’s holding my heels. I had left them with the intent to go back, but he just took them.
I turn to him, “So, Lando Norris.” I start walking backward, watching the way his eyes trail up and down my body. “You’ve got a good name.”
He nods, slowly walking with me, “Thank you, love.” His shirt is well fitted, his arms pressing against it and the sleeves rolled halfway up.
His eyes get wide as I'm checking him out, causing me to turn to see what he’s looking at. My jaw drops at the sight. “That’s-”
“My date!” we say in unison. I whip my head to him as he raises his brow. The two are in the midst of pulling off each other's clothes while their lips stay attached.
I slap my hand over my mouth as they turn to us. His date is very pretty and her lipstick is smeared over her mouth. My date doesn’t look embarrassed at all, just annoyed we interrupted.
“You two carry on.” I hear Lando say as he grabs my hand and pulls me out of there. We start running then, laughing and out of breath.
“I need to bleach my eyes!” I scream as Lando slows, his breathing labored.
“I think his hand was up her dress!” He looks scarred for life.
“Oh my god!” I stop, “Our dates!” I’m practically bent over laughing, “Lando, Our dates!”
“Fuck this weird ass day!” His hand tightens over mine, reminding me that he’s holding onto me still. “I need something stronger than champagne. Come back to my hotel?”
I raise a brow, teasing him, “Why Norris, I've just met you.”
His smile is slow and sexy, “I’ll save you from a one night stand and raise you whiskey and netflix. I promise I'll keep my hands to myself.”
“I weirdly have trust in you.”
He wraps his arm around me, our hands still attached as we leave the grassy area, “It’s not weird. We’re just two friends who happen to be very pretty and a tad bit drunk at an ex and a random wedding.”
Lando and I spent the night laughing over drinks, room service, and how to lose a guy in ten days. He didn’t touch me besides his arm comforting me as I fell asleep next to him, and even shook his head when I joked about it being a one night thing.
His promise was never broken… more like expired and loopholed by me. I kissed him in a bookstore and he gave me a new favorite version of his smile. Soft and romantic with his eyes focused on me and his hand in mine, “And to think… it all started at your ex’s wedding.”
He sighed as we walked into the elevator, I elbowed him, “Lando, that was yesterday.” His hands went to his pockets but not before slipping his arm around mine so we’re intertwined. I looked up to see him biting back a shit eating grin as if we’ve been married for years.
I just shake my head and stare at the silver doors in front of us. Yet still, I couldn’t help but smile.
#fanfic#formula 1 fanfic#f1 imagine#f1 fanfic#f1 x reader#f1 fic#lando norris fanfic#lando norris#lando x reader#lando imagine#lando norris fluff
874 notes
·
View notes
Note
I think first make out session of Simon and his mail order bride happened because she wore sundress all day ~~ i'm a bit addicted to the way you writing Simon
mail-order bride
reader described as curvier/plus-sized 18+
simon has gotten away with a lot of things ever since he married you. he's kept a respectful distance; gentle touches, affectionate ones, sure, but it's been easy to brush off the itch in the back of his head ever since he scratched it just enough when he kissed you for the first time.
when the itch becomes too severe, he's been able to hide away for a little while; running it out of his system working out, shaking it off in the field, drinking so it quiets when he makes his way to the pub.
but it's gotten a lot harder lately to pretend he doesn't see you for what you are.
a pretty girl.
he tells you that you're pretty all the time. in the mornings when you're still waking up. sitting at the counter as you watch him make sandwiches for lunch. pushing the cart in the aisle at the market, picking out the right cuts of meat or seeing which crisps you both can enjoy for movie night. and you are pretty all those times, all the time, in fact, and you were pretty when he kissed you, too.
but fuck. you're also...you're also so fucking pretty.
simon kicks off his boots at the front door, holding a few paper bags in his hands from his trip to the store. the weather has been getting warmer, summer creeping by (his most dreaded season since it forces him to take off layers he'd rather keep), and you had been begging simon for some sweet icy treats and a water fountain for the cat (it'll keep her from drinking out of your water glasses, simon).
when he steps into the kitchen, you're coming in from the backyard, flowers in your hands that the neighbor must have given you.
and you're wearing the cutest little white and red sundress (and suddenly he doesn't hate summer so much anymore).
it's got a cherry pattern on it and puffy sleeves. the bodice hugs you until the middle, where it fans out in a pillowy skirt, stopping just above your knees. there's a soft bow tied around the back, but simon really can't help himself from his eyes that narrow in on your figure and how incredible you look with the sunlight behind you.
"hi, simon," you coo, and simon glares, fucking tease. he has an inkling you don't even know what you're doing to him, you can't, not with that sweet little smile and the way you rock onto your toes. you even tied your hair up with a bow, and simon can't help but feel like you're his little gift, all wrapped up just for him.
one he wants to pluck, unravel until you reveal whatever you've been hiding underneath it all--
"oh! look it! oh, simon!" you giggle, grabbing the bag from him when you see the box that pokes out of it. you pull out a sweet, red ice lolly, cherry-flavored, and you lean up on your toes to give simon a big, wet kiss on his cheek before sucking it into your mouth. "mmm...thank you...just what i needed, it's so warm today."
bloody fuckin' christ.
your tongue is so pink. it's sliding up the edge of it until you suck it back into your mouth, and simon lets out the shakiest breath. it's unlike him, and you turn to face him fully when you notice the way he's staring at you. he looks good today, dark denim jeans and a wrinkled white t-shirt that stretches around his big arms, and your eyes dart to his tattoo sleeve for just a moment before you smile back up at him.
"what?" you ask him gently. "you want some?"
instead of offering him his own lolly, you simply tilt yours in his direction. he huffs, letting out an irritated laugh before he leans forward a licks a fat stripe up the side of the cherry ice.
you smile a little as he does, and you don't even realize your gaze has dropped. you're eyeing the way his mouth moves, taking in the hinge of his jaw and the light stubble along it and the scar that stretches across his whole face that you kiss sometimes when he falls asleep before you.
he groans a little as he takes a bite of the lolly, and you seize at the sound, dropping the lolly into the sink on accident as you scramble to look up at him. you stare at each other, lidded brown eyes just piercing into your own. you're quiet for only a few more moments before you're throwing yourself at him.
he nearly slams you against the closest wall. your back hits it firmly, rattling the pictures that hang there, and you throw your arms around his neck as he kisses you feverishly. his hands slide down your waist to your lower back, and you stand on your toes, his palms cupping your ass before he picks you up with ease, guiding your plush thighs to wrap around his waist as he holds you there.
you don't know how long you kiss against the wall, but you're breathless when he pulls away. you chase him, kissing along his nose, his cheek, any of the skin that you can get, and simon grunts lowly, cradling the back of your neck.
"we shouldn't," he mutters.
"why not?" you whine, and he hisses, looking into your eyes, hungry, big man, struggling to keep himself away from you. but it isn't what you want, you want him to kiss you, you want more, more, more--
you stand back on your toes, pushing him backwards. simon follows you, his hands bunched around the skirt of your dress as you walk him further into the living room until the couch hits the back of his knees, and he sits with a heavy breath. you bend to go sit in his lap, and simon curses under his breath, leaning his head back against the couch as your cleavage crowds his line of sight.
"fuckin' christ, baby," simon says lowly, running a rough hand over his face. he grunts when you take a seat in his lap, stretching your knees to straddle him, and you cage him in with your arms as you guide his chin back down so you can kiss him. you slot your mouth over his, kissing him lazily, and when you press your chest against his, he breathes out heavily when he feels your pebbled nipples through your dress. "fuck--fuck, fuck--"
"not yet," you giggle between kisses, and simon groans audibly as he slips two big hands under your dress and grabs both sides of your ass, his fingertips slipping under the lace of your panties so he can get a warm feel of you. you sit yourself down deeper in his lap, and you pull away slowly when you feel him underneath you.
he blinks his eyes open slowly, and you tentatively sit a little more in his lap, your eyes widening a little when you feel him between your thighs.
holy fucking shit--
"jesus," you stutter, and he looks away from you, ears reddening, and you're quick to cup his cheeks to bring his eyes back to you. you smile a little, leaning in again, and you press your forehead to his before giving him the gentlest grind of your hips. "oh--simon--" you kiss him again, soft, whispering against his lips, "s-so...you're so--"
"mhm," he nods, and you move so your lips are against his ear, giving him a light kiss where his jaw and neck meet.
"i'd say you're too big for me," you sigh, closing your eyes, "but i'm a riley now." you giggle. "'n we can handle anything..can't we, simon?"
"shit--"
you squeak a little when he wraps a hand in your hair and tugs, pressing your pelvis to his as he ruts his hips up against yours. you kiss him hard, slipping your tongue into his mouth, and he chokes on his moans, big arms keeping you pressed to him as he pants into your mouth.
he stills, face a little scrunched up as he sits there with you. you keep kissing him lazily, exploring the way he tastes, licking over his teeth and bottom lip, up until he pushes you just that much away and groans in frustration.
your eyes open, and you giggle, and simon smooths his hands up the bodice of your dress, his eyes blown wide as he takes in how pretty you look in it. pretty little angel in his lap, a nice weight to ground him as he tries not to think about the mess he's made of himself.
"i assume you like the dress?" you ask, and when you laugh, simon can see the red on your tongue from the lolly. he knows if he kisses you again and sucks on your pretty tongue, you'll taste like that awful cherry, taste as sugar-sweet as you really are. simon leans back a little, propping you up on his thighs, shaking his head as he runs a big hand down his solid middle.
"well," simon mutters. "'aven't cum in my fuckin' pants since i was a bloody kid, so i'd say so."
"w-wha--! simon!"
you cover your eyes, overcome with shyness, with warmth, not believing really that anyone could you want that much. that anyone could really want you at all.
but when you laugh, he does, too.
#simon ghost riley#simon riley#simon ghost riley x reader#simon riley x reader#simon riley x you#ghost mw2#ghost cod#ghost call of duty#ghost mwii#ghost x reader#cod#call of duty#simon ghost riley smut#ghost smut#simon riley smut#order up
4K notes
·
View notes