#he isn't even ashamed to say it to her face

[dishia]

how they sound in bed

featuring: albedo, childe, ei, navia, kazuha, arlecchino

content: sub!genshin characters, dom!reader, begging, mentions of overstimulation + biting (arlecchino), a bit of degradation (childe)

albedo:

gentle and pure, like freshly fallen snow. albedo isn't the most reactive by nature, and on top of that he's pretty good at holding his voice back if necessary, letting no more than a few hums and hitched breaths meet your ears. but when the pleasure overpowers his self-control and he does let out a moan for you, it’s pure heaven. his voice is so soft and sweet, he sounds every bit as delicate as he looks. when you take him slowly, he lets out airy sighs that make you eager to push him further and see what kind of noises you can coax out of him. when you go hard and fast, tiny little whimpers rise in the back of his throat that surprise the both of you. they build up higher and higher in pitch until anything he tries to say makes his voice crack and his cheeks heat up a bit.

albedo doesn't talk very much unless you prompt him to, but every now and then he catches you off guard with the most sinful, filthy plea for more. he does have a smart mouth after all, and he knows exactly how to beg with it while sounding as princely as ever. his curious nature never stops for even a second, so the entire time you're picking him apart, he's trying to study you too, so he can see what reactions of his turn you on the most. everything he does, right down the noises he allows himself to make, is all for approval. he's not very loud when he cums. rather, he chants out frantic little "ah ah ah"s when his high approaches, sucks in a sharp breath as he reaches his peak, then lets out a long, feather-light moan that's like music to your ears. it's rare to get an intense reaction out of him, but the way your name sounds on his soft-spoken lips more than makes up for it.

"use me," he breathes, quietly resolute. "i was made for you."

childe:

insanely vocal. not just in the sheer amount of sounds he makes, but verbally, too. childe is one to moan, whine, gasp, grunt, groan, whimper, and make every noise under the sun, all while trying to stutter out sentences in between because he can't keep his mouth shut to save his life. the more worked up he gets, the more he starts to babble, almost like a puppy wagging his tail in excitement. his attempts to tease you range from endearing to unbearable; usually in the form of throwing out weak, breathless taunts just so you can go harder and put him in his place. he makes it no secret when something feels good, and unless he's being a brat, he’s not ashamed to beg for you. even if his face starts to flush a little when he hears the pathetic noises coming out of him, childe gladly chases the pleasure you dangle in front of him, moaning and whimpering for you like a dog in heat.

he has a filthy way with words that drive the both of you wild, and the way you degrade him for sounding like such a whore just makes him throb harder. he swears a lot and repeats words over and over like a broken record. when he gets close to cumming, his speech starts to slur together into one long, incoherent whine, only made worse by the drool pooling on his tongue. you can cover his mouth with your hand to try and quiet him, but even, then his muted whines still break through. he'll almost definitely start licking and biting at your palm like the little freak he is, too.

“please, please, please—ah, fuck! please, lemme cum ‘m a good boy," his frenzied whines echo off the walls. "been so g-good for you. so so—mmph—good!”

ei:

a combination of elegant and cute, ei’s true voice is a stark contrast to the cold, commanding tone of her shogun puppet. she’s not very loud or vocal at first—especially because she has a tendency to suppress herself, it can be hard for her to let her voice ring out naturally. so when she holds her breath to try and keep in a gasp of pleasure, she ends up making muffled squeaking sounds instead that are painfully cute. it flusters her a bit when she can't control herself like she normally would, but she feels more encouraged when you coo over how pretty she sounds, even if she doesn't quite understand why you're so enamored with something she finds to be an embarrassing lack of composure.

if ei is service topping (which she often does, she’s very obedient and will bottom if you ask her to, but she gets antsy if she feels like she’s not working hard enough to satisfy you) she lets out soft but enthusiastic grunts of effort, so concentrated on making you feel good that she doesn't worry about keeping her voice down. her breathing gives away how turned on she really is, as it grows more labored every time you praise her for doing a good job. when she's on the receiving end of pleasure, especially when she’s close to climaxing, she breathes out quick little "oh oh ohs" that are as sugary sweet as the desserts she loves so much. even when ripples of pleasure are shaking her body, she has a certain poise and grace to her, moans spilling out of her as soft as flower petals followed by blissed out sighs so gentle that listening to them could soothe you to sleep.

“please…i-if you keep going so fast," she murmurs breathlessly. "i still want to please you, too. let me be of good use to you.”

navia:

passionate. navia is so expressive in anything she does and this is no exception, so controlling her volume is the last thing on her mind when you’re making her see stars. she’s receptive to your every touch, eager to let you know how good you’re making her feel with sharp gasps of pleasure and the most irresistible, high-pitched whines for more. it's very hard to deny her what she wants when she begs so sweetly. playfulness is a given for navia, she loves making cheeky remarks to spur you on, though usually not to the point of full-blown brattiness. communication is a big part of sex to her, it eases her nerves to have a comfortable back and forth with you, knowing she’s safe to fall apart in your hands.

sure enough, though, her banter slowly fades out along with her boldness once you take things further, replacing her teasing with moans so pretty you’d think they were practiced. but navia is far too focused on your mouth and fingers to force any of her reactions, and it shows with all the cute, involuntary squeaks every new sensation earns from her. her glossy lips fall open and stay parted the entire time your fingers plunge in and out of her, spilling out pleas so primal and desperate that they send shivers up your spine. she’s so lost in the pleasure that she doesn’t notice how loud she is until you murmur "listen to yourself" in her ears, but even as her face flushes with embarrassment, she can’t help how vocal she is. when she reaches her high, it’s a burst of passion, crying out your name over and over until her voice breaks and trails off into tiny, satisfied mewls. having to muffle her volume with a kiss as she cums is a very common occurrence, and it always leaves her blushing up at you with a shy pout.

“don't tease me! y'know i-i can't...help it," her protests lose effect when she’s stammering over every word. "you just m-make me so crazy. please, baby, i’m so—ah!—close.”

kazuha:

angelic. it’s almost unfair to you, how every word, every sound that leaves this man's mouth feels like a silk blanket draping over your brain. his voice is gentle and melodic as a songbird's, and though not very loud, kazuha is incredibly vocal. he wants to appear calm and composed in front of you so badly, he cherishes being able to spin together the most beautiful sentences for your ears, but all of his eloquence effectively crumbles to dust the moment your lips find his neck and your hands roam his body. he’s sensitive. his unique constitution has all his senses perfectly in tune with the natural world, after all, which is something he typically considers a gift until a simple touch from you elicits the most pathetic whimper from him. you’ve gotten used to having to tug his hands down when they fly up to cover his burning red face, mortified by his own mewls echoing off the bedroom walls. kazuha isn't much of a whiner, but embarrassing him like that is one definite way to earn the cutest whines from him, pleading shyly for you to let him muffle himself.

broken whimpers and hums rise in his throat over every little burst of stimulation you give him, and he’s hyperaware of every single one. he bites his lips a lot in an attempt to hold himself back from moaning, turning them into breathy squeaks just like the ones he lets out after giggling. it’s hard for him to get words out between all the sounds he makes, and when he does manage to speak, it's all stuttered and slurred together in a whirlwind of “please” and “more”. the complete contrast to his usual poetic word-weaving makes it all the more satisfying to see what a mess you’ve made of him. when his orgasm hits, kazuha’s honey voice almost always cracks because he’s not used to crying out with such intensity. he doesn’t swear very often, even when you’re fucking him senseless, but sometimes when he cums, a few hushed curses slip out in between his moans. it’s a crime how even the filthiest words can sound so sweet and innocent on his tongue.

"p-please, my love, i can't take much more," he begs, voice turning up in a helpless whine. "you make me feel s' good, so, so good. i really...hah...won't last."

arlecchino:

the epitome of discipline and self-control, arlecchino has spent her whole life ensuring that she always has a secure handle on her emotions. it makes her the perfect sub if she’s willing to obey you, but it also means she’s not very expressive. the most reaction you typically get out of her is long claws digging into the mattress or a few shaky exhales through her nose, even when you've pushed her to her limit. it takes a while for arlecchino to unlearn the belief that being vulnerable in bed isn’t a sign of weakness, and that you want to know what makes her tick. she doesn't exactly get it, but she's willing to comply, for your pleasure, if nothing else. when she first allows herself to let a sigh slip out, she's a bit stiff, almost awkward in a way that you probably shouldn’t find so endearing. if it weren't for your consistent orders for her to let loose, she'd revert back into old habits immediately and go quiet.

she relaxes her breathing little by little until every exhale starts to hold a bit of a rasp to it, letting you know that her guard is gradually lowering. her voice is so seductive without even trying. it's low both in pitch and in volume, a husky, rich tone that only makes you more determined to get some proper reactions out of her. sinking your teeth into her skin is one of the best methods to achieve that, the way her breath hitches in her throat, followed by a soft grunt, is addicting to you. her exhales get heavier the more the pleasure creeps up on her, as do the content hums bubbling in the back of her throat. with the delicious edge her voice has, it almost sounds like she’s purring for you. as her peak draws closer, the heat in her core combined with the feeling of your mouth sucking marks into her neck becomes all-consuming. her groans rumble under your teeth when you bite down on her flesh, and when you swirl your tongue over her skin, she hisses softly. her orgasm comes with a quiet warning and a sharp inhale. then, she goes silent for a moment before a deep, sinful moan rings out. but the best part comes when you keep going without giving her a chance to recover from her high, overstimulating her into louder, less controlled reactions. it leaves her panting heavily, voice hoarse and a trembling plea for mercy on her tongue.

"am i...doing this right?" she mumbles. "whatever you desire, just say the word and i'll obey."

[vulpesaureus]

Earlier in the game he wanted to sacrifice himself to protect us, now he wants to sacrifice Yelan, that's character development

[sungbeams]

MIDNIGHT IN MILAN — lhs

they say love makes you do stupid things...surely fucking your boyfriend in the bathroom at the prada after party when your relationship isn't even public and neither of you can afford a dating scandal isn't that stupid, right?

⟡ ┆ pairing. lee heeseung x fem!reader

⟡ ┆ genre and tropes. MDNI 18+ ONLY, smut, established relationship, idol AU (both heeseung and yn)

⟡ ┆ warnings. semi-public sex, unprotected sex, mirror sex, mild choking, creampie, fingering, tiniest hint of degradation (he calls her a slut like once), one singular spank, some hair pulling, not really any aftercare

⟡ ┆ word count. 6.4k

⟡ ┆ note. i know the hype around tipsy hee already died down but i simply couldn't let this go. started writing it literally the same day the pictures dropped, then got hit with a massive writers block and only recently managed to finish this. biggest thanks to @jayparked who listened to me complain about this fic and contemplate just deleting it all. this fic wouldn't be here without her :(

"Fuck, Hee—" your broken moans echo off the dark walls around you as you throw your head back at the feeling of his dick sliding in and out of you, hitting that perfect spot that has your hips chasing after his, "feels so good. Don't stop, please don't stop."

"Not planning to, baby," Heeseung grunts out his reply, his fingers digging into your flesh as he pulls you back to meet his sharp thrusts, sending shockwaves up your spine all the way to your head, making you feel woozy at the intense pleasure overwhelming your senses.

Your gazes meet in the mirror in front of you, your arms shaking as you try to hold yourself up. One of his hands moves up your body, his fingers wrapping around your throat and applying slight pressure to it to cut off the needy whines spilling from your mouth. Your eyes roll back at the sensation, head falling forward and your body crashing into the counter beneath you, your arms too weak to hold yourself up anymore. 

"That's my good girl, so desperate for my cock, huh?" Heeseung smirks to himself, continuing to roll his hips into yours. He wants to tug on your hair, hold you in place so he can look at your fucked-out face, but he knows he needs to be careful not to wreck you too much, not to leave any marks — or at least none that leave no doubt as to what you're doing here.

Truly, the two of you should be ashamed about what you're doing, but neither of you can bring yourself to care — not in the slightest. Right now, the only thing you're concerned about is Heeseung's cock repeatedly drilling past your folds into your soaked heat, how snug your walls feel around him, hugging him, molding to his shape with each snap of his hips. Maybe come tomorrow when you wake up and you think back to this moment, you'll bury your head in your hands and wonder what drove you to make such stupid, such careless decisions. 

After all, you are currently having sex with your boyfriend in a private powder room at an afterparty you had been invited to as brand ambassadors. You should be professional. Mingling with people, maybe having a drink, getting some of your pictures taken, but no, instead you're getting your guts rearranged by a man barely anyone knows is your boyfriend.

In your defense, the past few days had been beyond stressful, and you hadn’t been able to get any alone time with Heeseung in what feels like forever. Not during the busy days ahead of your flight to Italy, not during the 14-hour plane ride from Seoul to Milan for Fashion Week, and certainly not during all the schedules you had the past two days. Moments of privacy had been sparse, reduced to rare bathroom breaks since you shared a hotel room with one of the other members of your group.

----

Stepping out of the van to attend the afterparty, you force an effortless smile onto your face, repeatedly reminding yourself that this was your last schedule of the night and then you'd get a night of sleep just to hop onto another seemingly everlasting flight back home where you’ll be greeted with at least a few days without any public appearances. So you push yourself to ignore the ache in your feet from wearing heels all day, ignoring the throbbing in your head from the lack of sleep, food, and water, which only intensifies from the flurry of flashing cameras greeting you, or the pinch in your lower back from where you assume a safety pin must've come loose.

Hours pass by in the blink of an eye, pictures being taken with either your fellow group members or other celebrities and influencers also attending the party; a drink gets pushed into your hands, and the alcohol momentarily numbs your body and washes the pain away, allowing your shoulders to relax and your breaths to deepen as you take in your surroundings. Lo and behold, a few feet away from where you are, you find him standing: Heeseung. Hands in his pockets as he's talking to some unidentifiable celebrity in front of him.

Almost as if he feels your gaze on him, he glances away from the man before him, your eyes meeting for a brief moment. You take an involuntary step forward, like he's drawing you right in, before your manager steps in your line of sight, "They want a picture of you girls with Enhypen, something about wanting the two K-Pop groups attending in one picture together."

You nod your head at her words, trying to steal one last look at your boyfriend, only to see him walking right in your direction, together with Sunoo and Jungwon trailing after him, their manager leading them right to where you're walking to.

A staff member pushes and pulls you all into position, telling you where to stand and how to pose, and by some sort of miracle you end up right next to your boyfriend. Your manager shoots you a quick look, and you teasingly roll your eyes at her as she's silently warning you to not make your relationship too obvious, seeing as your company has been pretty outspoken about not wanting the public to know about what was going on between Heeseung and you.

While the photographers look over their pictures, trying to decide if they need more or if they're satisfied with what they got, you lean slightly to your right, close enough so the man next to you would be able to hear your hushed whispers, "You know...I heard some people talking about there being private restrooms at this venue. Just thought I'd mention it in case you'd like a moment alone to take a bit of a breather from all the socializing."

"Oh? Is that so?" you can hear the slight smile in the low rumble of his voice as he leans down, masking his closeness by adjusting the leg of his pants, "Guess I'll have to check them out in a bit then."

"Alright, everyone, we'll take a few more pictures and then you can go back to the party," one of the photographers interrupts your conversation, drawing all attention back to the front. You position yourself slightly to the left again, creating more space between your boyfriend and you to avoid angering your managers.

A few more pictures taken, and you're finally released. Almost instantly, you excuse yourself from your group, beelining towards the aforementioned restrooms, making sure not to draw any attention to yourself despite your heart beating rapidly in your chest at the thought of some alone time with your boyfriend, sending blood rushing through your ears, loud enough to drown out the quick click-clacks of your heels against the tiled floor underneath you.

The anticipation is killing you as you're waiting for Heeseung to show up, staring at your phone just to see the status of your message to him with the details of exactly where you are change from 'delivered' to 'seen' right in front of your eyes. Minutes feel like hours as you tap your foot nervously against the marble floor beneath your feet, trying your best to ignore your throbbing pussy, your folds covered in your slick and clinging onto your underwear already — all just because of the mere thought of what he would do to you within these four walls.

You glance at your phone again when three rapid knocks followed by two more taps against the wooden door next to you startle you. Opening the door with a smile on your lips, you lean out slightly, your head turning left and right to scan the hallway, "Are you sure no one followed you?"

Wordlessly he nudges you back inside and closes the door behind you. His lips are on yours in an instant, moving with familiar desperation as he pushes you against the closed door. His hands are all over you, grasping onto your hips, pulling them flush against him and allowing you to feel the growing bulge in his pants press against your lower abdomen. Your heart beats erratically in your chest — the sound almost drowning out the soft clicking of the lock turning behind your back — hands scrambling to find something to hold onto as lust takes over you, clouding your mind. His lips work against yours in a beautiful frenzy, rushed but still taking his time, nipping at your lower lip, entangling his tongue with yours in a passionate dance that wordlessly tells you everything you need to know.

Your body relaxes right against his, all tension melting away with each movement, the space between you charged with tension, thick and hot, as Heeseung pulls away. 

"Don't worry, we're all alone, baby," he breathes against your lips as his mouth trails down to your neck, eagerly covering your skin in wet kisses as your hands reach up to tangle themselves in his hair. 

The tiny voice in a deep, dark corner of your mind tells you not to mess it up, not to leave a single trace for people to suspect what the two of you left the party for, to avoid any scandal at all costs. But your need to be as close as possible to your boyfriend overrides any and all logic left inside you, so you ignore it, pulling him closer to you instead and letting him graze your skin wherever he desires. Contrary to you, he seems to still have some care for the consequences of your escapades, seeing as he moves down the collar of your dress to continue the path of his lips there, sucking and softly biting the supple flesh, leaving marks easily hidden. 

With his hand pressing against the small of your back, he pulls you away from the door, and the two of you stumble over towards the massive mirror situated behind the vanity of the powder room. Your ass digs into the cold marble of the counter as he crowds you against it, fingers holding your hips in a bruising grip — enough to almost hurt, the sensation just the right mix of pain and pleasure to pull a whimpered plea from your lips — before moving lower. His hands massaging your round cheeks has you biting your lip, whining as he lifts you up, and you instinctively wrap your legs around his waist just to feel his hard cock straining against his pants and press right into where you need him the most.

"Hee...please—" you cut yourself off with a moan, louder than you had anticipated, and he quietly shushes you in response.

“Shh, baby, we don't wanna get caught now, do we?"

His lips form into a smirk against your skin as you shake your head with a slight pout on your lips. You really don’t want to get caught; you don't want to even think about what it would mean for both of you if people found out about what the two of you are up to in here, but your mind is begging, screaming at you to let it all out, let him know how good he's making you feel.

"You can be loud in the hotel; how about that, sweetheart?”

Oh, screw him. Getting you worked up over the possibilities the future holds for you before even having you now.

Your reply comes in the form of a quiet whimper, mind wandering off to all the possibilities your soundproof hotel room offers. His hands snap you out of it, interrupting your train of thought as they push underneath the bottom hem of your dress, reaching for your soiled underwear to press his fingers right against your cunt, feeling just how absolutely soaked he has gotten you.

"Fuck, baby, what's gotten you this wet, huh?"

"You, Hee—" you exhale, chest heaving up and down as he toys with your clit through the damp cotton of your panties, hips bucking up to chase his fingers, "please...please just fuck me already."

“Love when you beg for me like this. Shit," he groans, eyes closing for a brief moment in a hopeless attempt to compose himself, panting like a dog as he pulls away from you. His hands move over the buckle of his belt in a frenzied rush, fumbling slightly before he manages to undo it, opening his zipper with shaking and twitching fingers. His pants hit the floor with a thud, joined by the black briefs he had been wearing underneath, and he's back on you before you even have a chance to gawk at his cock, thick and heavy, with an angry tip, red and leaking precum already. Despite having seen it multiple times, it still never fails to take your breath away each time you get a chance to look at it. 

His lips crash against yours in an almost bruising kiss, distracting you from his fingers hooking underneath your underwear, pushing it to the side as his other hand finds the base of his cock, pumping himself a few times until he lets his head kiss your entrance. In one fluid movement he pushes himself inside you, both of you letting out synchronized moans as you feel your walls stretching around his girth. His size still surprises you, despite this not being the first time together with him, and even though your cunt is dripping — your slick arousal running down your folds just to pool underneath you — you're still having trouble taking him wholly. His throbbing length fills you up so well you swear you feel him all the way in your belly, gasping as you spread your legs wider to grant him even more access to your wet pussy.

His fingers find their way back down to your clit, no longer obstructed by your underwear, massaging it slowly to help you relax around him. And it works; your body lets go, tension melting from you as you allow him to pull back slightly and thrust back in again, slowly managing to push further and further into you until he fills you to the hilt, his hips making contact with your ass. Pressing your face against his shoulder, you try your best to muffle your moans. Your cunt molds itself around him with each clench of your walls, desperate whines tumbling past your lips as his cock pulsates deep inside of you, as you feel every ridge, every vein, every inch of him. 

"Taking me so well, baby, such a good girl for me. You ready for me to move, sweet girl?"

You nod breathlessly, almost unable to reply to his words at all, mind fuzzy with pleasure. 

And he hasn't even started properly fucking you yet. 

Heeseung presses a gentle kiss against your lips, already swollen and raw, his bruising kisses lingering on them, before he begins to move, hips thrusting into your greedy hole as you cling to him, holding on tightly as best as you can. His forehead falls against yours, labored breaths mixing together and becoming one as you pant into each other's mouths, a needy blend of curses occasionally interrupted by your names tumbling from both of your lips. Your eyes meet his, losing yourself in them as they pull you in further and further. His gaze makes you want to shy away, intense and all-consuming, while at the same time it just as well makes you want to throw your head back, moan his name for everyone in this building to hear just how good he's making you feel.

"So good—fuck, feels so good, Heeseung," you whimper, squeezing your eyes shut as you lean further into his embrace, his arms holding you upright as the control of your own body slips further from your grasp.

You feel so full of him, having him exactly how you wanted him all night, his cock brushing right against your cervix with every thrust, his hands all over your body in a desperate frenzy, his mouth latched against yours, tasting you like a starved man. The feeling of having him all over you is overpowering your every sense, hopelessly trying — and failing — to keep your moans at bay, choking back a desperate whine in the back of your throat.

Heeseung can't help but coo slightly at you, your urgency going straight to his ego, as well as his cock, twitching deep within your spongy walls as he moves your legs to wrap them around his waist tighter as he grunts and groans, "Such a dirty thing, letting me fuck you right where anyone could hear us. Shit, gonna let me use your pretty cunt, gonna walk out there with my cum dripping down your legs like the little slut you are?"

Your answer comes in a whined 'yes' as you throw your head back, eyes screwing shut, hot sparks shooting through your whole body. Your legs twitch around his hips, nerves tingling as you start clamping down around him. Lust clouds your judgment, wanting to draw this out as much as you could, not wanting to cum just yet. Staying in here any longer than absolutely necessary wouldn’t be the smartest thing to do; in fact, it would be the complete opposite of smart. With every second the two of you are together in this restroom, his cock pressed deep inside you, brushing against your cervix, you risk the chances of getting caught, of someone hearing you moan out his name.

Fortunately for you, Heeseung seems to have a similar thought process. Slowly, his thrusts come to a halt, and he pulls out of you. The emptiness he leaves behind rips a pitiful whine from you, and he shushes you by pressing his lips against yours in a quick, gentle kiss before moving you off the counter and turning you around. You don't mind him manhandling you — you enjoy it even — his touches soft but forceful as he makes your back collide with his chest, your eyes meeting in the big mirror in front of you.

"Be a good girl and bend over for me."

His breath is hot against your ear, voice low and drenched with desire oozing off it thick like honey as you feel his cock dig into the flesh of your ass, the combined sensations sending shivers down your spine. His fingers graze your thighs as he lifts the bottom of your dress above your ass, letting it pool around your hips. Slowly, he pulls your underwear down your legs, his blunt nails scraping your burning skin, leaving trails of goosebumps in their wake. The ruined cotton falls to the tiled floor beneath your feet, transparent and sticky with your arousal, as you lean your torso onto the counter, holding yourself up with your shaking arms. You step out of them, blindly kicking them to the side to allow yourself more freedom to move.

Impatiently, you look over your shoulder, wiggling your ass to silently urge him to hurry up and get back to fucking you again. He can't resist the temptation, even if he would’ve attempted to try, running his hand over your bare ass, caressing your soft, round globes before landing a slap against your smooth skin — not a particularly harsh or painful one, not nearly as forceful as you know he’s capable of, but hard enough to send a wave of electricity through your body, a muffled sob falling from your lips at the sensation — before placing them back on your hips, his fingers digging into your soft flesh with a bruising grip.

Not wasting any more time, he slides right back inside you. The different angle pulls a moan from you, mixing with the low groan falling from Heeseung's mouth as your warm pussy embraces his cock. One of his hands presses against your back, pinning your front against the cold marble counter underneath you, your arms shaking as you scramble to find something to hold onto. The sounds tumbling past his lips make you clench around his length, the low rumble of his groans bouncing off the walls surrounding you, his chest heaving up and down with each erratic roll of his hips turning you into a panting mess as he repeatedly hits that one sensitive spot within you. You try your best to hold eye contact with him through the mirror, wanting nothing more than to see the pleasure clearly written on his face right as you cum, but you simply cannot. 

Your head falls forward, eyes screwing shut as you let pleasure take over you — your mind, your body, all of your senses.

His hand on your shoulder snaps you out of your stupor, looking up briefly just to see his eyes trained right on where you're connected, watching his dick disappear within your creamy hole again and again, laser-focused as if he was in a trance. He pulls you back to him with each of his thrusts, making you meet him with even more force. You let out a fervent moan at the sensation, your sobs joining the squelching sound of wet skin slapping against skin reverberating around the room. He drives inside you at a merciless pace, each thrust harder than the last one, making your entire body jolt at the force of them.

Heeseung steadies himself, taking his hand off your hip to place on the counter beside you, quickening his pace just slightly as his cock twitches inside of you in response to a particularly pornographic moan of yours.

"Hee-'m so close," you whine, fingers clawing at the marble counter, legs shaking as you feel yourself inching closer and closer to the edge with each drag of his heavy cock inside of you, each snap of his hips against yours.

Heeseung throws his head back at the sensation of your cunt fluttering around him, groaning out as his nails bite into your skin, "Just a bit longer, baby, almost there."

His hand on your shoulder pulls you up, your back colliding with his chest as he continues the merciless pace of his thrusts. The angle at which he keeps fucking into you feels overwhelming, consuming your whole mind and body, yet pleasurable in the best way, and you swear this is the closest you've ever been to heaven before. Your soft whines and pants turn into moans, growing louder with every passing second as you hold onto Heeseung's arm wrapped around your front, pressing you into his chest.

In a moment of clarity, Heeseung notices just how loud your moans have gotten, and as much as it pains him, he knows he quickly has to think of something to silence you unless you want someone to hear you on the outside of the door, resulting in a guaranteed scandal. His solution: his hand wrapped around your throat.

A gasped whimper escapes your mouth as you feel his fingers pressing into your skin, the slight pressure and the weight of his hand against your throat causes your head to spin, his grip not strong enough to hurt or leave marks but send dizzying pleasure right to the depths of your belly. Your breath hitches as your airways constrict, eyes rolling into the back of your head, hand reaching up to hold onto his wrist, making sure his hand stays right where it is, already addicted to the feeling.

The lack of air combined with his relentless thrusts sends you into a frenzy, you feel like you're floating, your limbs tingling, and the world around you blurs, your only focus on Heeseung's gaze that meets yours in the mirror in front of you. He's attentive, watching you closely and making sure you can still breathe — which you can, but the thrill of it all leaves you light-headed and gasping for air — while chasing his own high, pressing his lips into your shoulder to muffle the desperate groans threatening to escape him. 

His grip on your throat tightens, just barely, but enough to cut off your air supply for just a short moment, the rush sending a brand new wave of arousal pooling in the depths of your belly. It feels like he's everywhere — his cock thrusting into you at a merciless pace, his hand wrapped securely around your throat while his arm winds around your waist, pulling you flush against his front, not allowing you to move in the slightest. The intensity of it all is overwhelming your senses, the lack of oxygen making everything sharper, more intense, and you're reveling in the sensation of him pounding into you and sending every nerve in your body buzzing with electric pleasure.

"God, so greedy, couldn't even wait until we were back at the hotel, could you? Just had to have my cock buried deep inside you, can't get enough of it, right, princess?” he grunts lowly as he loosens the grip on your throat, lips pressing into your ear, sending shivers down your spine as your walls clamp down on him while you suck in a desperate gasp of air. 

You're too far gone to respond, your mind clouded with lust, hazy and floating like a cloud on a balmy spring day. All you can do is moan out his name, over and over again, a prayer falling from your lips as he continues thrusting into you, your body pushing against his tight hold of your waist, instinctively moving to meet every snap of his hips. His pace is relentless, Heeseung's thoughts replaced by his need to cum, desperately chasing his own high as he drives you closer and closer to the edge of blissful oblivion. The coil inside you winds impossibly tight, your legs shaking, and if it weren't for your boyfriend holding you upright, you know you'd be a mess of tangled limbs on the cold tiled floor beneath your feet already.

"Cum inside me—fuck, Heeseung, please," you plead breathily, your voice cracking as desperation takes over it, insatiable hunger and need setting your insides on fire.  

"Shit, you want me to cum inside you, yeah?"

His hand rubs over the mound of your ass, soothing your raw skin, sensitive from the slap he delivered to it just mere moments ago. His fingers dig into the flesh of your hips with such force you're sure to find bruises the following day. 

“God, yes, Heeseung!” you cry out, your voice breaking as you feel the knot inside you tighten rapidly, coiling tighter and tighter until it's a white-hot ball of pleasure, ready to explode and set your body alight.

He leans down slightly, his breath tickling your ear as he whispers into your ear, “Be a good girl and cum for me, then you’ll get what you’re asking for. Come on, let go, cum for me, pretty girl."

And just like that you find yourself tipping over the edge, his words breaking the dam inside you and allowing your high to crash over you like a tidal wave, destroying everything in its wake. Pleasure courses through every inch of your body. Every vein, every nerve is set alight and dragged along the powerful and overwhelming waves of your release. Your slick walls clamp down around him like a vice, spasming with every drag of his cock, every brush of his mushroom tip against that one spot that makes stars explode in front of your eyes.

His grip on you loosens enough to allow your upper half to fall forward, catching yourself as you lean on your forearms, left panting and completely undone as you gasp for air, lungs burning and desperate for the sweet taste of oxygen.

Heeseung lets out a strangled moan at the feeling of your dripping cunt tightening around him with even more force, his control slipping as his thrusts become urgent and uncontrollable. He murmurs something underneath his breath, but the rush of your heartbeat echoing in your ears is too loud, drowning out his words, which you assume are mumbled curses of your name.

You lose yourself in the sensation, barely able to form any coherent thoughts as your climax drags on. Each wave drags you deeper and deeper into the current of pleasure, leaving you gasping for air, body twitching and trembling as Heeseung prioritizes his own pleasure, chasing his high with renewed fervor.

Heeseung has never been a selfish lover, always putting your pleasure first, making sure you got to cum at least once before even letting himself think about the possibility of his own release. And maybe that’s part of the thrill for him, repeatedly — intentionally — edging himself until he finally gets what he wants from you, driving himself to the edge of his release over and over again until he is so sensitive he feels like he’s about to explode from just the slightest stimulation.

“Oh fuck, baby—“ he pants with a strained voice, his chest rising and falling rapidly, breaths ragged as he finally allows himself to let go.

With a low guttural groan, Heeseung spills himself inside of you, thick spurts of his warm cum shooting deep into your pulsing cunt, painting your insides white and oozing out of your pussy past his cock. The heat of it sends tiny aftershocks through you; your body shakes as you try to catch your breath, looking into the mirror to see him working himself through the last dredges of his orgasm, jaw slack and body trembling. His face is glistening with sweat, beads of it rolling down his throat and disappearing beneath the neckline of his black shirt.

The sight of him is enough to make you ache with need all over again — his face twisted in pleasure, his eyes dark and unfocused as he watches his cum leak out of your wrecked pussy around his length. You cannot help but think of the folder on his phone, password protected to keep it from the wrong eyes and filled to the brim with pictures you hope never see the light of day: his cum dripping out of your ruined cunt; his cock shoved into your mouth, the lower half of your face messy with a mix of spit, cum, tears, and lipstick; love bites scattered across the skin of your neck and the insides of your thighs like the constellations of the night sky. If you had more time, you’re sure he would add to that growing collection of his, pulling out his phone and snapping multiple pictures until he was satisfied, moving your body into various positions to get the best shot.

Instead of allowing your small daydream to become reality, Heeseung pulls out of you, the sudden emptiness leaving you whimpering and clenching around nothing, the squelching wet sound of him slipping his cock out of you echoing around the room.

He takes another moment to admire the mess he's made of you, leaning back slightly as he watches his cum drip from your drenched hole. He reaches out, letting his fingers run between your folds to collect his cum just to shove it back into you. The sight of your pussy swallowing his digits, your puffy lips embracing them with ease makes his cock twitch again, overstimulated and sensitive but still aching for more.

“Hee—fuck, please,” you’re not even sure what you’re begging for, mind fuzzy and eyes heavy as you watch him through the mirror in front of you. 

You try to drink it all in, wanting this moment embedded in your memory until the end of your days. His dark hair falling into his eyes, focused on the white globs of his cum slipping out of your cunt from around his fingers and running down your thigh. His skin is flushed, sweat beaded on it like little gems glued to reddened satin. It trails down his neck to his chest, revealed by the undone top button of his shirt. 

Heeseung interrupts your little ogling session when he pulls his fingers out slowly, savoring the way you shudder at the loss. 

You catch a glimpse of yourself in the mirror before he gently turns you around to face him: lips puffy and swollen, eyes watery and completely wrecked despite your combined effort to prevent just this from happening when you were still able to think clearly before your minds were clouded with lust. 

“You did so well, baby,” Heeseung murmurs, his voice thick with a twisted mix of pride and possessiveness as he angles your head so his lips capture yours in a kiss that sends another wave of burning heat through you, igniting the glowing embers lingering deep within you.

His hands slide to your hips, fingers digging into your flesh as he effortlessly lifts you up, your bare thighs resting on the vanity underneath you, the cold marble biting into the raw and tender skin of your ass.

“Made such a mess, can you feel it dripping out of you?” — you nod at his question despite knowing he didn’t ask for you to answer — “Want me to clean you up?”

“Fuck, yes,” you breathe out your reply, eyes glossing over at the intention.

A smirk tugs at the corners of his lips, the unspoken meaning of his words written as clear as day on his face as he slowly lowers himself to the tiled floor beneath his feet, spreading your legs in the process to make room for him to fit between them. He looks up at you from between your spread thighs, leaning forward slightly to press his lips against the insides of them, alternating between nibbling and sucking, sure to leave marks for you to find the next day. A whispered sigh of his name slips past your lips as you throw your head back slightly, his lips ghosting closer and closer to where you need him, to where his cum was still dripping out of you.

His warm breath fans over your wet center, lips just a hair's width away from your pulsing cunt when a gentle knock interrupts you. Heeseung jumps up at the sound, back on his feet in an instant. Your eyes are wide in panic as you meet his gaze before you both turn to the door.

“Shit,” Heeseung mouths as he rushes to grab some paper towels to wipe your mixed juices from between your thighs, hoping that whoever just knocked on the door isn’t aware of the fact that there are currently two people in this bathroom. Two people who certainly could not afford to be caught in a position like you are currently finding yourselves in.

“Heeseung? It’s me, Jay.”

The sigh of relief leaving both of you could almost be described as comical if not for the tension still lingering between you, all the worries and anxieties of a secret relationship almost coming true. Haphazardly, Heeseung pulls his pants up, the undone belt still hanging from his hips as he helps you down from the vanity, hands tugging at the hem of your dress to give you at least a slight bit of decency. He takes one look in the mirror, letting out a small groan before shuffling over to open the door.

The moment the door opens, Jay turns towards both of you, hands buried in the pockets of his pants as he awkwardly shifts from one foot to the other. The redness of his ears confirms your suspicions that he most likely heard more than you would’ve liked, immediately sending your blood rushing to your head, face burning with embarrassment at your friend catching you in such a precarious position. He clears his throat once, trying — and failing — to subtly take in Heeseung’s appearance before shooting a small, albeit flustered, smile at the two of you.

“We gotta leave, like,” he takes a look at his phone to check the time, “right now, actually. I already bought you both some time, told them you weren’t feeling well, and Heeseung wanted to make sure you’re alright. You should…clean yourselves up a bit. Meet us at the entrance in 5?”

You both nod as you watch Jay turn to leave after looking your boyfriend and you up and down once again, shaking his head as he deeply sighs in disappointment — a sound almost eerily similar to one you had heard your parents make several times when you were younger — and you swear as he walks away you can hear him mumble to himself about how you were like two hormonal teenagers, not able to keep it in your pants for even one night.

“Well, guess we gotta get you cleaned up, huh, sweetheart?” 

“Oh no, we don’t!” you jab your finger into his chest as he chuckles at you, “I get cleaned up, and you can go meet up with everyone. It’ll be less suspicious if we don’t show up at the same time.”

Heeseung holds up his hand in fake surrender, a smile still playing with his glossy lips as his eyes roam over your body with one last hungry gaze. Despite the burning ache inside him, the quick kiss he presses against your lips is nothing but sweet and gentle, tenderness quickly replaces the darkness formerly taking over his eyes, “I’ll text you later. Maybe we can manage to sneak you into my hotel room later.”

“Sounds like a plan,” your hands wrap around his arms, giving his biceps one last affectionate squeeze before ushering him out of the bathroom and away to join his group members, giving you a few more precious minutes to clean up, make yourself look somewhat presentable — or at least presentable enough to not have any fans or press question just what exactly happened over the past hour — and find out where you had kicked your underwear in the heat of the moment.

You take a moment to watch your boyfriend walk away, the slight bounce in his step is a dead giveaway for the people who knew him that he just got laid, but lucky for both of you, no one of importance should be able to figure him out and turn this whole thing into an issue for the two of you. Just as you’re about to turn around and assess his damage in the big vanity mirror, Heeseung turns around one more time, eyes twinkling with mischief as he takes you in, watching the way your eyebrows rise on your forehead in a silent question at his sudden halt.

“Oh, and baby?” you nod your head in response, “Make sure to wipe the lipstick from your chin. We wouldn’t want anyone to find out what a greedy slut you are for me, would we now?”

© sungbeams — all rights reserved. i do not give permission to copy, repost, modify or translate my works.

[dilf-docs]

All Roads Lead To Rome

pedro pascal x younger!reader

summary: your boyfriend swears he isn't annoyed at your little surprise visit on the set of gladiator II; you might have to help him release his anger, one way... or another.

warnings: 18+ (minors dni), age gap (BARK BARK BARK), smut, p. in v., bit of exhibition kink cause they fuck on his trailer, he swears he's mad but he just wants head, oral (m. receiving), he also uses his armor and skirt while at it bc its hot and not bc i totally want that to happen to me or smth!!!, brat taming, orgasm denial, breeding and daddy kink lowkey, i'm so down bad for him so there's fluff!!! + pedro being whipped cause that's exactly what i want in my men, the cast makes cameos bc i love them!!!, use of spanish (i'm latina so don't even try me)

word count: 3,519 words

side note: i'm about as FERAL and horny as much as one could be!!! damn u pedro, making me walk out in the middle of class and walk on foot to the nearest theather for an early gladiator II screening (bc they're cheaper and i'm a jobless broke student lmao) that mind u it's my first solo trip to the movies but it's okay!!!! nobody interrupt me on my horny dilf hours amirite I TELL U that cinema was almost empty: just me, pedro and hey there's a spot if u wanna join mescal (look at my blog banner IYKYK) so yeah!!!! enjoy this porn lovechild that steemed from it; my pedro renaissance that'd been asleep since tlou dropped AWAKES (u don't get it, i literally watched narcos just for him) i'm so fr i need this man BIBLICALLY!!

"Lemme guess, that's her, right?"

Pedro looks up from his phone, slightly red and embarrassed. He would blame the color on the sun, and as an actor, fake his way out.

"No idea what you're talking about, Paul"

The young man chuckles.

"I mean, every break we get, you take your chair, sit the farthest and pull your phone with the most ridiculous grin I've ever seen. I'm afraid to tell you, friend, you aren't as slick as you think"

He leans back against the chair, covering his face with his large palm.

"At least I tried" he finds no point in lying anymore, "seems like I'm addicted, but if it wasn't for y/n, I wouldn't touch it"

"I'm curious, though" Paul scoots his chair closer, "who texts who? You or her?"

"Me" he answers, but then corrects himself quickly, a bit ashamed of how that makes him sound, "but it's mostly her first".

"Right" he doesn't sound convinced, rather curious and annoyed, something he's too old and tired for, "I don't believe you"

He's about to lock his phone, but the wallpaper (a selfie with you) would probably earn him another mock from Mescal.

"Too bad I don't need you to"

Before he can do so, the irish man yanks his phone away.

"Give it back!" he shouts, earning a few glances from the crew around them, "what are you, ten?"

"No, twenty-eight" they look like kids bickering. "No need to fight me, Mr. Pascal, they haven't taught us the new fighting choreography yet" he mocks, before the phone chimes; they both stop at the sound.

"What does this mean?" Paul asks. "Malta's nice" he reads out loud, "were you talking about possible future vacations? I might have to tag along"

He doesn't follow the man's joke, instead, looking at the message on your chat. Malta's nice, says the little cryptic message, and yes―it is cryptic, because you were just talking about missing each other and some other corny stuff he'd take to his grave. Not vacations, and certainly, not about the european island, which happens to also be the place were he's filming his latest movie.

"No, we weren't" he replies confused, "what do you think it means?"

"Well, obviously, you boys don't know anything" May pops up from behind, laughing.

"Were you eavesdropping?" he asks playfully, albeit, a little offended.

"No, you guys are just too loud" she replies nonchalant. "Besides, you aren't very good at hiding it, either"

"That's what I said!" Paul backs, laughing on his face.

"Stop being misterious and just drop it"

"It means" she pauses―laughing at her own little dramatic effect, "that you're getting a visit soon"

When you met Pedro, you were working in The Last Of Us. Nothing fancy, just part of the technical cast of the show: helping with the filming and stuff.

During those months, it was easy to find yourself falling for the main star (alongside Bella Ramsey), especially when you spent months behind a camera, capturing all of his perfect features; learning them by memory until you could draw them without seeing his face.

Yes, you had fallen for the older man, because it was as natural as breathing; easy as being alive―the fall so gentle and so easy, it was hard to know when the feelings started. You just woke up one day, feeling different.

You liked to act up―always had what you wanted, and times had changed (so it's not like he had to ask first): why not? Which is why during your last day of shooting you took some liquid courage on your veins and went up his way. It was at a little gathering the crew you've grown to call family organized, while wearing your favorite and tightest dress, that you approached him.

It surprised you that he even recognized you, but that's who he was: warm, welcoming and caring.

To augment the surprise, turns out he had eyed you already, but was too shy to do anything. Yes, the worlds most famous Chilean man. It did stroke your ego, and maybe that's why you feel like most of the time, you've got the upper hand on your relationship, despite the years in between.

Still, you feel like the last message you just sent was a bit too blunt. Now you sit at the tiny airport, pondering your next move.

You know your boyfriend isn't exactly the type to scold or get mad―despite his strong figure, but going against the only thing he asked you might test him. Which is why you feel nervous, despite the happiness around you, everyone in the airport looking straight out of a picture perfect summer edition magazine.

And your theory is proven exactly right when you arrive impromptu at the Gladiator II set: making heads turn and guards almost kick you out, thinking you're a fan.

"You don't get it!" you protest, "he's my boyfriend".

"Sure", they laugh on your face. "you're not the first to say that".

"She's not lying" oh, how you love that gravely voice. But not today: not when he sounds like a parent scolding a naive child. Not when his eyes bore into you, slightly irritated.

So now he's dragging you among the set, right to were his trailer is.

"Aren't you going to introduce me?" you ask, puffing your cheeks out in annoyance. He keeps dragging you by the arm, without sparing a glance in your way. Who does he think he is? "I wanted to tell Paul he made me cry―twice. You know I don't play about Normal People and Aftersun"

"But you do seem to play about my orders" he grunts out, opening the door to his trailer. The sunlight reflects against the white, slightly bothering your eyes with its shine, contrary to your boyfriend's gloomy behaviour.

"Are you being serious right now? You're not my dad to scold me. I just wanted to surprise you" you stand still, refusing to get inside. Pedro knows your character tends to be stubborn, and thought he finds it hot to reel you up sometimes, there are other times where he can't just stand that juvenile spirit of rage you tend to have when things don't go the way you want them to. "What's gotten into you?"

"I could ask you the same" he mocks. "Get inside. Now"

"Rude" you scoff, but obey regardless, and he breathes out relieved you didn't do a scene like last time; he still can't show his face on that restaurant to this day.

"I thought you'd be happy to see me" you say a tad bit dissapointed, and Pascal feels the pissed off feelings clouding his brain start to dissipate.

"I do, amor" he sighs, "just hate to see you do things I tell you not to; waltzing in here like you own the place".

You don't see the mistake, though. What's wrong with wanting to do a little surprise? It's not like you were a stalker or something; just a very clingy girlfriend who happens to miss her boyfriend.

"So, you're not mad?" you venture, "tell me you're not embarrassed"

He looks at you, the fondness of his gaze betraying him.

"I'm not the one wearing a skirt while trying to sound intimidating" you joke while caressing the crook of his nose, knowing you always get on his good side. Being mad isn't something that lasts, "if anyone should be embarrassed, that's you"

"Are you saying I shouldn't wear one because I'm a man?" your boyfriend looks offended, "Have you forgotten the movie I'm starring in? People feared the skirt-wearing Roman army"

"Well, I'm not intimidated" you stand defiant, and something dark tints his brown eyes. You can feel the excitement begin pooling in your stomach.

"You're not?" he grips your wrists and yanks you to him, then holds your chin, tilting your head between his calloused fingers. "Well, cariño, you should be"

Your body slams against one of the trailers walls, and you have to suppress a whine.

"You must be punished for what you did today"

You give him a doe-eye look, pretending to be all innocent, as if you weren't enjoying the punishment.

"I don't know what you're talking about. I've been a good girl"

"You know exactly what I'm talking about" he clicks his tongue, "don't play dumb with me"

"I just came to visit you" you murmur, voice husky against his ear. He grunts, and with the proximity, his hard-on rasps against your bare legs, only partly covered by the flowy summer dress you're wearing, "is that so bad?"

"It is. Has sido mala, cariño" his hand travels down under your dress, carresing with his large palm the silhoutte of your ass. The rings on his fingers create a shock, cold metal against your warm sun-bathed skin. "Naughty girl"

"I promise I'll be good, papi" you purr, using that honeyed voice of yours that makes it hard: hard to say no and hard between his pants.

Pedro sits on a small couch he has inside the trailer, guiding you with his hand enveloped around yours, motioning you to follow with a care so soft, you'd doubt he's about to do to you what he is about to do to you. He pulls you across his lap, smiling (God, you love his smile) as your stomach presses against his tights.

"Don't worry" he breathes low, his voice barely above a whisper. "I'll make you a good girl. Tell me, aren't you?"

You swallow, "I am"

He moves the panties easily to the side, rubbing your pussy a little. He then spanks it softly, making you mewl at the sting.

Pedro continues to trace over it, "Are you sure about that?"

"N-no" you shiver in delight, resolve dissolving as quick as it came. "I'm naughty"

"It's good to be aware" he murmurs, "Dilo otra vez"

"I'm a naughty girl"

He lifts your head by your hair. "Tell me what you did"

"Disobeyed your orders, coming to the set" you whisper. He lets go of your hair, his hands traveling down again, slowly teasingly rubbing your pussy while he humms.

"You were a little brat, amor"

You whimpered and mewled in delight. "I was a very naughty brat"

He pushed his fingers inside you, plunging his fingers into your pussy.

"Look at you. You're soaking wet" he pumped his fingers in you, making you moan, "Is that why you came to see me? Couldn't wait any longer for daddy to be inside of you?"

You bucked a little, making him stop. He drags his fingers out, causing you to beg for him to go back.

"Answer my question you greedy thing" He leaned closer to your ear. "Did you need my cock this much?"

You whimper, "I do! Missed you so much"

He pushed his fingers back into you, provoking a moan out of you.

"You're always so needy for me" your core tenses, making you shiver. "How badly do you want me? Tell me"

You whimpered "Badly, papi"

"Say it" his face contorts in satisfaction at your pathethic display; crying little mess, "Who's cock, fingers and mouth make you feel good?"

You can't think at this point, your brain fuzzy and pussy hot, leaking. You kiss his lips, moaning against them, "you!"

"Just me, yes? Nobody else can make you feel this good?"

"No one!"

You involuntarily roll your hips to aid you in pleasure, yet Pedro stops you just before you can reach your orgasm.

"Little brat." he tuts, making you groan. "Did you think I'd let you? You were naughty today, baby"

You huff in annoyance, used to having your way.

"That's your punishment"

"But I'll behave" you mewl against his ear, "I promise"

“Good, because I'm planning on fucking your brains out” his hot breathe whispers in your ear seductively, trying his best not to slur the words at the drunken haze that your arousal provokes in him, "but you have to help me first"

You get on your knees, looking at the garment he's wearing. The skirt and general costume makes this all the more hot, mouth watering at the sight. You raise the skirt, glancing at the briefs; just seeing his dick strained against the fabric makes you wet in anticipation.

He sees the pleasure bore into your orbs, and before you do any dirty idea of yours, he's already warning:

"You have to take this off, what if we-"

"Alright" you cut him off, "but the skirt stays"

"Sigue, pues" he growls, voice low yet demanding, following you in your little game.

As you pull the briefs down, his erection springs out enthusiastically, slapping up against his lower abdomen. You shifted your gaze up to meet his, his eyelids heavy and his proud smirk driving you absolutely wild.

"That's right" he chokes out, "show me how much you missed it"

You give him a proud lick, and Pedro hisses at the moment his preseminal fluid goes in between your hungry lips.

Your tongue darts to the head of his cock, running over it several times before bobbing your head down, taking most of him in your mouth. He keeps praising as you pump the base of his cock with your hand. Your head bobs, yet you peek up to hear Pascal's little sounds and facial expression, a motivation so intimate in the way his brows furrow and eyes roll, mouth agape at your movements while his lip suck on those pretty lips of his. It makes you keep going. With every bob you take as much of him in your mouth as you can, before slowly moving your way back up to the tip, increasing your suction the closer to his head you got. A throaty moan escapes the man above you when you now focus on the final lick, making him closer to coming, all while maintaining eye contact the entire way through.

"Don't do that" he rasps, yanking you by the hair again, as of punishment, but he knows you enjoy it, "you promised you'd be good"

You can't answer, so instead, you reach the head of his cock again, and now his eyes roll back, mumbling profanities that sound like heaven.

"Do you want them to hear us, brat? Qué necia eres" he manages to chastise while moaning.

You feel his dick stuck in your throat, and the way he's about to come; you think that after some time dating, you know him well enough.

You're about to leave with your mouth when he stops you.

"No" your eyes open in shock, "what? Did you think your punishment is over?" Pedro laughs, "don't look at me like that. Like you have never done it before"

He keeps you in place by the hair, the rings prickling against your scalp. You feel his muscles tense up, and before you can think anything else thick and hot shots of cum invade your mouth, making it sticky and warm.

"Don't pretend you don't like it" his voice goes dark, husky. "Swallow it all. Te han enseñado a no desperdiciar nada, ¿verdad? Show me your good manners, then"

When you pull out, your throat feels raspy.

"You gotta reward me" you cough out.

"I promised, didn't I?" his fingers trace your face delicately, with adoration.

"It's all about duty, General Acacius" you purr, and the dick springs out again. Hard.

"Princess..." he warns.

"For the glory of Rome" you joke and laugh, then cough, as your throat is still sore.

"Have you been reading my script?" as you avoid to answer, he just chuckles, "ay, nena"

"C'mere" he motions, and you sit on his lap again. Pedro lifts your dress, exploring the curve of your ass. There's anticipation as he hooks his finger around the waistband of your panties, pulling them down to access your core.

"Fuck" you squirm at his touch, grinding your freed cunt against his hard cock. He grabs you by the hip, adjusting you right on his lap.

"You taste so good" he kisses down your throat, ending at the chest were your tits peak.

"Want them?" you offer, pulling your dress down. He kisses them, gently nipping at your perked up nipples.

A wave of pleasure courses through you, and with whines and moans, you show how desperate you are, the hunger making the meal taste better. After all those weeks missing him, you just want him to fuck you senseless.

His lips are rosy and swollen against yours, mouths clashing; starved of the yearned contact. Truth is, no matter how much you know how to touch yourself, it'll never be the same as having his hard cock tear through your tight folds.

Pedro easily aligns his leaking cock with your uncovered pussy, all while mantaining the kiss. He pushes down on you, your dripping cunt taking all of his rock-hard cock, fingers holding onto the soft brown grey sprinkled locs.

"Pedro" you cry out his name, full of ecstasy as the stretch burns so sweetly. His low grunts only fuel your desire.

You trace with your eyes his body, now bare without the upper part of the costume: his pecs and abs, flexing with every pump. With now free hands, your fingers travel to softly caress his stomach, even if your tits are jiggling and the pace is rather frenetic.

"I missed you so much" you pout.

"I missed you too" he whispers out, getting tired.

He's reminded of his old age, forgetting about it as soon as you two kiss, because you bring out a stamina he thinks he doesn't have anymore; almost animalistic. His bones creak and adding the tiring filming day under the hot sun, he feels his body start to give up, the orgams closer and closer.

"Missed how you look" you clash your lips onto his, the adoration translating through the smile you press against, a trail of saliva that symbolizes how interwined you are, "you always look so fucking good"

He blushes, feeling like a stupid school boy with a crush. What did he even do to deserve you? Never thought a pretty young wild thing like you would even spare a glance on his way, but now you're taking all of his cock inside with such greed yet loom into his eyes with a love he's only dreamed of.

You're real, and his.

As soon as those words leave your mouth your orgasm spills over him, some of it dripping onto the skirt, making him curse. You can't stop, still meeting his thrusts halfway, despite your trembling body after reaching your high.

"Mierda" he groans against your mouth,

You feel yourself collapsing on top of him, the weight of the jet lag catching up.

"Getting tired, baby?" he coos. "Shit, and I thought I was old"

"You are" you reply back; you can never not have the last word. And he lets you, because, God, doesn't he love you? He pretends to look offended by it, but the way your eyes shine tell him you didn't mean it that way. "You and your white hairs" tracing over his moustache, a soft hand combing through his locks, "These wrinkles... don't you know how much I love them? how much I love you?"

"And you have no idea how much I love you" he squeezes his eyes shut, feeling it coming through. "God, wanna make you mine. Sólo mía" his pace slows. It's coming, and yes, you will take it all. "Wanna make you a baby, mami. Want you to take it all like the good girl you are"

When he comes, filling you with burning hot cum until you feel like you might burst, you're numb. But there's a feeling so content that pools warmth in your chest, that you can't say anything else, resting your head against his bare chest, both covered in sticky sweat.

"No sé cómo voy a explicar esto" he speaks through ragged breathes, and you can only smirk, "a squirted and cummed roman skirt".

"That isn't my problem" he scoffs, and you feel your head rise against the movement, earning a laugh out of you, "I'm not part of the movie"

"You'd sure think so, with the way you walked in here"

You roll your eyes, face hidden against his chest, "can you let that go?"

"You're right" he pulls you closer to him, hand enveloping you behind your bare back. The quiet doesn't bother you as you lie closer to his chest, his heartbeat the only thing you need to be at peace, "I think punishment time is over. Think you've learned your lesson"

"Then, how about we go out? I've heard Malta's beaches are pretty"

"Relájate, cariño. Seems you've gotten your energy back" he quips, then kisses your forehead. "We need to wait for everyone to get out"

"That embarrased you are of me?" you joke.

"No" he can already imagine his fellow cast members making fun of him, starting with Paul and Joseph when they see you and Connie who will totally notice the fun sticky stains on the costume, "but embarrased of the explanation I'll have to give"

cr: divider @kodaswrld / gif @a7estrellas

[allpiesforourown]

Okay let me tell you guys about one of my fav bingyuan aus.. bingge having a one sided rivalry with shen yuan

He had to get a scholarship and work his ass off to afford college, had to put on a fake smile and network like crazy.. so naturally when he sees shen yuan, this guy who was born rich and is naturally extroverted, he hates it

Shen Yuan on the other hand, thinks binghe is super cool! He looks like what he'd imagine a stallion protagonist to look like! Not to mention he's athletic, intelligent, beautiful, just perfect in every way!

Binghe is always trying to rile up shen yuan and "expose" him as a terrible person pretending to be good, so their interactions go like this:

Binghe: so you're entering this contest too? Ha, don't waste your time. You know youre leagues behind me

Shen yuan: you're also entering? Great! I can't wait to see you perform :)

Binghe, flustered: FUCK YOU.

Ning yingying is binghes childhood friend and binghe barges into her apartment every other day to rant about this guy.

Binghe: I hate shen yuan!!! Who does he think he is!! Acting all high and mighty !!!

Yingying, who doesn't understand but wants to be supportive of her friend: yeah a-luo, fuck that guy

Binghe: and then even after I rubbed it in his face that I won, he had the audacity to say "I hope I'll get to see you perform next year" can you believe that!?!??!

Yingying: ...?

Shen yuan gets seriously sick before a competition one day and binghe wins by a landslide. He's looking around the whole time, wondering where shen yuan is. He can't make fun of him for coming in second if he isn't here...

Binghe finds out shen yuan was hospitalized and he leaves before they can award him his trophy. Shen yuan wakes up to binghes panicked face saying "how dare you, you didn't come just because you knew I'd win? You were that ashamed of how superior I am to you? You better get better soon or else..!" Shen Yuan is do confused because why does binghe look like he's about to cry? Why is binghe visiting him everyday with healthy boxed lunches "to help him recover quicker" ??

Shen yuan returns to school and he's crowded by classmates asking where he's been/how he's doing. Binghe is off to the side, refusing to come over, but obviously sneaking glances at him. Shen Yuan smiles and waves and binghe looks away but his face is red

[witchthewriter]

𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐋𝐚𝐬𝐭 𝐊𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐝𝐨𝐦 𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐬 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐚𝐧 𝐚𝐫𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐝 𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐫𝐢𝐚𝐠𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐰𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝 𝐢𝐧𝐜𝐥𝐮𝐝𝐞

⤷ female, ambiguous race, and any size reader. Requests are open, thank you for reading!

Also this is 18+ ... we acting like grown ups.

ᴹᵃˢᵗᵉʳˡᶤˢᵗ | ᴹᵃˢᵗᵉʳˡᶤˢᵗ ᴵᴵ

𝑼𝒉𝒕𝒓𝒆𝒅

“Destiny is all… but you were never part of the plan.”

・This marriage is a strategic alliance. An act to broker peace between two warring factions.

・Even though Uhtred wants this peace, he isn't thrilled about it.

・At first his mindset was to keep you alive, but the more you got to know each other...the more he was in denial:

“I don’t care about her. I just need to make sure she stays alive… for the alliance. That’s all.”

・What started as a simple sword lesson had turned into him pushing you harder than he intended. Wanting you to see the true strength of opponents.

・He didn't want to sugarcoat what war and battles were. (Not that you had been fantasising about them anyway).

・Uhtred thought his lesson was going well until you finally knocked him to the ground.

・For a split second, he was shocked...stunned and then he stared up at you, breathing heavily. And then he smirked.

・Showing indifference, Uhtred trains you to fight. And adorns you with proper fighting gear, a shield and gets a blacksmith to make your very own sword.

・Even in the early stages of your marriage, Uhtred would subconsciously protect you - no matter where you were or what you were doing. E.g., even at the tavern, he never let anyone get too close (his men were like three other bodyguards)

・You were glad for Finan, he became like a brother to you. Always making things lighter, bringing the humour.

・Because you were constantly on the road with the four men. And Uhtred didn't trust anyone else to take care of you.

・But he would never say that...

・Sihtric barely spoke to you, but he held a lot of respect for you.

・Over time, Sihtric becomes one of your fiercest defenders, in battle and in life. Like a quiet shadow, a forcefield ensuring no harm comes to you.

・Osferth; he's your first friend, real friend, although he was a bit awkward. You become the sister he's always wanted. And he becomes that little brother who wants to follow you everywhere and do everything you're doing...

・The truth of Uhtred's feelings comes out during a heated argument. After nearly getting himself killed...again, you accuse him of putting too much at risk to gain Bebbanburg, that he cares too much about gaining that castle back.

・Shocked, ashamed, embarrassed that you would say that. Uhtred's face heats, and what you say is truth. Well, it was truth, until:

"I have spent my whole life fighting for Bebbanburg! But then you came along, and now I’m fighting for something else. For you. Don’t you see that?”

𝑵𝒊𝒄𝒌𝒏𝒂𝒎𝒆𝒔 𝒇𝒐𝒓 𝒚𝒐𝒖:

“My Heart” uses this one when you have private moments and when he feels vulnerable. I.e., after a battle or during soft, intimate conversations.

“Shieldmaiden” is used in front of his men, showing his pride in you.

“Wife” is both teasing and affectionate, often said when you’re being stubborn.

𝑹𝒆𝒍𝒂𝒕𝒊𝒐𝒏𝒔𝒉𝒊𝒑 𝑻𝒓𝒐𝒑𝒆𝒔

Shared Vision and Purpose

Closed Off (Uhtred) x The Person They Warm Up To (You)

Brave Warrior (Uhtred) x Self-Assured Damsel (You)

Places His Wife Above Everyone

𝑷𝒍𝒐𝒕 𝑻𝒓𝒐𝒑𝒆

Home Is Wherever You Are

The Parents Of The Group

Reluctant Allies to Lovers

𝑻𝒉𝒆𝒎𝒆 𝑺𝒐𝒏𝒈

Kingdom Dance by Alan Menken

Scotland by BBC Scottish Symphony Orchestra

I Had To Do That by James Newton Howard

𝑭𝒊𝒏𝒂𝒏

“I didn’t want this, but now? I wouldn’t trade it for the world.”

・Your marriage was a political alliance to strengthen ties between Ireland and the Saxons. Finan, as Uhtred’s right hand, was seen as a valuable connection.

・How else could Finan endure this other than with humour?

・As soon as you met him, he was cracking jokes. Sometimes he was funny, other times you were annoyed - because he was constantly making light of ... everything.

・When you called him out on it, he sighed, "I'm sorry lass. It's ah...the only way I know how to cope sometimes."

“She’s alright, I guess. I mean, for someone who can’t keep up in a fight…” (He says this right before throwing himself in front of an arrow meant for you.)

・Day by day, you were slowly opening up to each other. Learning through talking by the fire, on horseback, walking through the forest.

・Soon Finan began to lean close while talking to you, staring into your eyes, moving a piece of hair behind your ear, brushing past you "accidentally", etc.

・Finan was always looking to see if you were okay. Even in a crowded hall, his gaze would flick to you every few moments, but if he was ever caught, he'd smirk and look away.

・Whenever you feel down, Finan doesn't mind making a fool of himself to make you laugh

・If talking doesn't help, he'd happily slip in the mud during training or let Sihtric carry him around bridal style.

・One night, as a joke, you tied a small braid into his hair, saying it makes him look more "noble." He laughed it off but didn't take it out... he wore it for days afterward.

・His feelings are brought to light during a drunken night around the fire. The others were sharing stories about what they fight for; land, honour, family, ... fun.

・Someone asked Finan and as he was about to make a joke, he glanced at you.

・Your face was illuminated by the light of the flames, and it hit him like a punch to the gut.

"Her."

Silence fell. He looked to you who was wide-eyed, "I'll always fight for you."

𝑵𝒊𝒄𝒌𝒏𝒂𝒎𝒆𝒔 𝒇𝒐𝒓 𝒚𝒐𝒖

“Lass” is his go-to—light, teasing, and affectionate.

“Trouble” slips out when you’re bickering or challenging him (which is often).

“Little One” is playful, his everyday teasing, often when he’s trying to make you laugh.

𝑹𝒆𝒍𝒂𝒕𝒊𝒐𝒏𝒔𝒉𝒊𝒑 𝑻𝒓𝒐𝒑𝒆𝒔

You Fell First, But He Fell Harder

Constant Banter

The Sarcastic Duo That Can Finish Each Other's Insults

Places His Wife Above Everyone

𝑷𝒍𝒐𝒕 𝑻𝒓𝒐𝒑𝒆

Height Difference

Bickering and Banter

Timeless Love

𝑻𝒉𝒆𝒎𝒆 𝑺𝒐𝒏𝒈

Say Yes To Heaven by Lana Del Rey

Valerie by the Midnite String Quartet

Happily Ever After by George Fenton

𝑺𝒊𝒉𝒕𝒓𝒊𝒄

“You make me feel like I belong… like I'm worth loving.”

・For Sihtric, he was forced to marry you. The King willed it so. It was a cruel decision. the King wanted to somehow split up Uhtred's group - make it harder for them to be connected.

・It didn't turn out how the Monarch intended...the group just kept you with them.

“I don’t care if she notices me. I’m just here to protect her.” (He says while carrying a pouch full of the random trinkets you’ve given him.)

・You were trained by all of them in battle; how to defend, attack, how to do a shield wall etc.

・Spending time with the men was fun; even if Sihtric was silent most of the time.

・Finan always made you laugh, and Osferth made you feel comfortable no matter what the context was.

・In time, you truly thought of Uhtred as your leader. And you too called him 'Lord.'

・Sihtric constantly lingered in the background. He was always nearby, however, he was never imposing. Just ensuring you were safe.

・You were very different to what everyone thought. There was a softness in you. A heart of gold.

・When you became comfortable around Sihtric, you started to give him things.

・Particularly things you found on your journeys. E.g., many many rocks; smooth river stones, shiny pebbles (anything shiny really), beautiful feathers from birds, flowers that have specific meanings etc.

・And he keeps every single item.

・His pockets are completely full.

・Sihtric is constantly staring, but instantly looks away when he's caught. A small blush dusting his cheeks.

・Another thing is his quiet gestures...he'll fix your armor, puts extra supplies on your horse, sharpens your sword without saying a word.

・The love you hold for each other comes out during the aftermath of a brutal fight.

・You were tending to Sihtric's wounds, hands trembling as you stitched a deep cut on his arm.

・Sihtric couldn't help but watch your face, the concetration, the look of concern.

・You were both silent until you uttered, "You...you could have been killed," your voice was soft but full of emotion.

・Sihtric caught your wrist, his blood-stained fingers entwining with yours.

In a voice so wrapped with truth, Sihtric whispered, "I would die for you. Without hesitation. "

・This marriage wasn't duty anymore. Now...it was love.

𝑵𝒊𝒄𝒌𝒏𝒂𝒎𝒆𝒔 𝒇𝒐𝒓 𝒚𝒐𝒖

“Little Blade” pops up during training sessions or when you sass him.

“Mine” is possessive, intense, and usually slips out during high-stakes moments.

“Angel” when he’s overwhelmed with how much he adores you.

𝑹𝒆𝒍𝒂𝒕𝒊𝒐𝒏𝒔𝒉𝒊𝒑 𝑻𝒓𝒐𝒑𝒆𝒔

Madly In Love (Sihtric) x Ridiculously Oblivious (You)

Sun (You) x Moon (Him)

Always Bringing Them Rocks They Think They Would Like (You) x Keeps The Rocks (Him)

Places His Wife Above Everyone

𝑷𝒍𝒐𝒕 𝑻𝒓𝒐𝒑𝒆

Healing and Redemption

Unbreakable Bond

Emotional Intimacy

𝑻𝒉𝒆𝒎𝒆 𝑺𝒐𝒏𝒈

Me and Your Mama by Childish Gambino

Sex On Fire by Midnite String Quartet

Fire In The Water by Feist

𝑶𝒔𝒇𝒆𝒓𝒕𝒉

“You make me brave. Brave enough to be yours.”

・The marriage was to save your life. Many Saxons wanted you dead, but a marriage to a religious Saxon meant you'd be safe.

・Early on in the marriage Osferth would blush at everything you did. From compliments to teasing, he was constantly red-faced.

・But as your time together grew, he started seeking out those moments.

・Even though he’s usually mild-mannered, if anyone speaks poorly of you, Osferth is the first to step up; sword in hand, voice shaking, but unwilling to step down.

・Osferth would give you thoughtful gifts. Small items like a bunch of wildflowers, a smooth stone, etc. But never admitting they’re from him.

“She’s just being friendly. That’s what this is… right?” (As he turns red after you compliment his sword-fighting.)

・Both of you faced your feelings when he thought he lost you.

・It was after a battle; a close one where you all were separated from each other. You were missing for a few hours, and Osferth had been searching unrelentlessly.

・With each moment his panic had risen. His heart beating so fast he thought he might die.

・But he did find you. You were unconscius but alive.

・Osferth cradled you, tears in his eyes while whispering his feelings:

“Please, don’t go. I… I love you. I should have said it before.”

・You stirred at his words, opening your eyes, smiling lightly.

・Blinking slowly, you hummed. Moving to hold onto his arm.

"I love you too."

𝑵𝒊𝒄𝒌𝒏𝒂𝒎𝒆𝒔 𝒇𝒐𝒓 𝒚𝒐𝒖

“Sweetheart” is his everyday term — filled with gentle love.

“Dearest” slips out when he’s overwhelmed with love — often in moments of shyness or soft confessions.

“Braveheart” is used when he’s overwhelmed by your strength, often after emotional or dangerous moments.

𝑹𝒆𝒍𝒂𝒕𝒊𝒐𝒏𝒔𝒉𝒊𝒑 𝑻𝒓𝒐𝒑𝒆𝒔

He Confessed His Love When Thinking You Were Unconscious 

Black Cat (You) x Golden Retriever (Osferth)

Menace To Society (You) x Living Moral Compass (Osferth)

Places His Wife Above Everyone

𝑷𝒍𝒐𝒕 𝑻𝒓𝒐𝒑𝒆

Trust and Dependence

Intertwined Destinies

Love Conquers All

𝑻𝒉𝒆𝒎𝒆 𝑺𝒐𝒏𝒈

Running Up That Hill by Kate Bush

The Train by James Newton Howard

Let The Light In by Lana Del Rey

𝑺𝒊𝒈𝒕𝒓𝒚𝒈𝒈𝒓

“I would follow you to the ends of the earth—because without you, none of this matters.”

・There was constant tension whenever you were around Sigtryggr.

・He rarely spoke to you in the early days of your marriage.

・Seeing it only as a way for him to gain more power

・And in return, your family would be safe - your village, kingdom, would not be harmed by any Dane.

・You kept your own beliefs and wore your traditional family clothes, even though you did not know when you would see your family again.

“She talks too much… but I don’t want her to stop.”

・Watches you when he thinks you aren’t looking.

・His stoic exterior hides it, but he studies you. Including how you smile, how you move, how you speak.

・Sigtryggr knows what your favourite colour is, what you like to do with your time - all because he notices things. And he wants to know more about you.

・He lets you in; allows you to see glimpses of his vulnerable self.

・He shares stories of his past, things he’s done, things he regrets and waits to see if you’ll turn away. You never do.

・And in a world where he controls everything...he lets you make decisions. E.g., about where to travel, what to eat. He values your opinion.

・When both of your feelings were revealed, it was during a difficult situation.

・You had confronted him after a harsh decision in battle. He had executed someone who defied him.

・It shocked you. But ... you understood. Traitors had to be punished, maybe he went a bit far this time but you understood.

・In the comfort and seclusion of your shared bedroom, you spoke your thoughts.

"Don't you think that was a bit ... brutal? I mean, yes he was a ... traitor but you could have done anything else-"

"I know you think I'm a monster," he replies, his voice low. He wasn't facing you, almost as if he wouldn't. Or couldn't.

"A monster?" You replied, shocked.

"Yes! Do you think I wanted this? To be this man?" His words came out like venom.

You soften, and step closer, "No. No, you aren't a monster. Sigtryggr, I have seen the good in you!

His gaze turns to you, utterly and completely. Gently taking a hold of your wrist, voice low and vulnerable: “I’ve done terrible things… but I would burn the world for you.”

・No more pretending. You had the realisation that...he is completely, undeniably yours.

𝑵𝒊𝒄𝒌𝒏𝒂𝒎𝒆𝒔 𝒇𝒐𝒓 𝒚𝒐𝒖

“Beloved” used during rare, emotionally charged moments e.g., after a battle, during confessions, or when you’re vulnerable together.

“My Flame” is used when there's passionate, heated arguments or intimate moments.

“Little Chaos” he calls you this when you’re being unpredictable or teasing him.

𝑹𝒆𝒍𝒂𝒕𝒊𝒐𝒏𝒔𝒉𝒊𝒑 𝑻𝒓𝒐𝒑𝒆𝒔

Soulmates

"I've done terrible things in the past" (Sig) x "All i care about is who you are in the present" (You)

The Hyperactive (You) x The Unheeded Voice of Reason (Sig)

Places His Wife Above Everyone

𝑷𝒍𝒐𝒕 𝑻𝒓𝒐𝒑𝒆

I Can't Exist Without You

Healing and Rebuilding Together

I Go Wherever You Go

𝑻𝒉𝒆𝒎𝒆 𝑺𝒐𝒏𝒈

One More Hour by Tame Impala

Margaret by Lana Del Rey

Dance Me To The End Of Love by Leonard Cohen

[vanteguccir]

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ5 CUTE LITTLE MOMENTS * CHRIS STURNIOLO

SUMMARY　::　where Chris is deeply in love with Y/N and isn't ashamed to show it; OR, 5 cute little moments between Chris and Y/N.

FEATURING　Chris Sturniolo x reader　REQUESTED?　yes.

WARNINGS　::　none.

AUTHOR'S NOTE　::　that is my work, I DON'T authorize any form of plagiarism; copy, "inspiration" or translation! | english isn't my first language, so I'm sorry if there's any grammar error.

1. Surprise on tour

A mixture of nervousness and euphoria coursed freely through Chris's veins as he prepared to enter the stage. The boy discovered after his first tour alongside his brothers that the sensations of being on a stage, surrounded by people who adore him, were very similar to the sensation of an orgasm. And he loved it.

As soon as the lights came up and the opening song started playing, he found himself fully immersed in the energy of the crowd.

While he and his brothers went through their usual fan interactions, Chris couldn't get Y/N out of his mind. He wanted her to be there with him, sharing this special moment with him and his brothers.

When it was time to take the break to talk to the fans again, Chris took a few seconds to survey the crowd in front of him, sweeping his blue eyes over each head he saw.

Until he founded her.

He frowned automatically, squinting his eyes into thin lines to try and see better, quickly realizing that it wasn't his mind playing tricks on him, Y/N was really there.

"Wait! Wait, can I- Oh my God." Chris interrupted Nick, who was speaking into his own microphone, raising his right hand towards his brother and holding it in the air, telling him to shut up silently. "Baby? Is that... Is that really you?"

Y/N - who was surrounded by fans who recognized her the moment she appeared there - felt her cheeks take on a reddish hue almost instantly, her eyes filling with tears from being able to interact in person with Chris after so many weeks apart.

The girl knew he couldn't hear her even if she screamed, so she just nodded, a huge smile decorating her face.

"Is Y/N here?" Matt's voice sounded over the speaker, his body moving closer to his brother's as he tried to find her in his line of sight. “Oh, hey, Y/N!”

"Guys, my amazing girlfriend, Y/N, is here with us tonight!" Chris shouted into the microphone, raising his free hand and waving his fingers in the air in euphoria, holding himself back from jumping in place.

The crowd erupted in applause and cheers as Chris explained how Y/N wasn't going on tour with them because of her studies. His voice could barely hide his excitement when talking about her, the volume having a constant fight with the loud volume of the fans' screams.

"Wow, it feels like I haven't seen you in weeks." Chris teased, throwing a wink her way.

Nick's laugh was heard right next to him, his voice echoing through the speaker with a random comment that Chris didn't try to understand, his eyes fixed on his girl as his heart overflowed with love.

"You look prettier than ever, babe." Chris flirted, his tongue escaping between his lips and wetting them as his ears were filled again by the euphoric screams of the crowd.

Y/N could only laugh out loud in nervousness and shyness, her red cheeks glowing under the colored lights. Some fans around her made funny comments about the situation, joking - or not - about how they wanted to be in her place.

It was safe to say that the night of the show was filled with comments and flirtations from Chris directed at Y/N, the boy having to hold himself back for long minutes to not run down the stage towards his girl arms.

　　　　　༻﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡༺

2. Mispronounciation

"Is that açaí, Nick?" Chris's question caught Y/N's attention, who took her eyes off the nugget shelves she was analyzing in one of the freezers a few steps away from the triplets, now focusing on them.

"Did I hear açaí?" Her voice echoed in excitement, her hands quickly grabbing the package of nuggets that she liked the most before returning to the boys, placing it inside the cart with the other frozen products before standing next to Nick, analyzing the container in his hands. "Oh, it is! I want it, please?"

"Of course, we'll take it." Nick quickly responded, nodding his head as he turned, facing the cart and allowing the freezer door to close behind his back.

"Can we have condensed milk and milk powder to put in it? Oh, oh, and banana too!" The girl pleaded, her voice full of excitement as she clasped her hands in front of her chest, raising her eyes towards Chris and widening them slightly.

"Sure, babe..." Chris nodded almost instantly, unable to say no to his girl. "I still don't understand how she can have açaí with condensed milk and milk powder." He muttered only for the camera to catch it, failing miserably as his tone came out loud enough for Y/N and his brothers to hear it.

"Hey! It's the only right way to have açaí, okay?" Y/N argued, rolling her eyes playfully and turning back to the cart, arranging the container next to the other frozen products, as she did with the nuggets, being the type of girl that liked to organize her groceries.

"Guys, look! It's prepackaged, but we did find some asparagus." Matt interrupted the silence seconds after, rescuing the medium package of asparagus and quickly showing it to the lens with a proud smile on his face.

"I love aspargos so much. Your cooking will be the best in this series you guys are making, Matt." Y/N murmured, smiling big and pointing with her chin at the package while Matt put it back on its place.

"What did you say?" Nick asked with a frown. Being a little away from the three made it difficult for him to understand what they were saying, and it worsened with her pronunciation.

"Um... aspargos?" The girl repeated, frowning in confusion.

"The pronunciation is wrong, babe. You say it like s-par-gus." Chris corrected gently, lowering the camera slightly and watching her with caring eyes.

He loved the little pronunciation mistakes his girl made. He understood that she was still learning English and that her Brazilian accent could make it difficult to say one word and another, and all that made him fall in love again every day.

"Oh." Y/N bit her lower lip lightly, feeling her cheeks heat up in embarrassment, receiving an encouraging smile from Matt, who watched them silently while Nick was still collecting products from that aisle.

"Hey, it's okay, pretty girl. It's just one word, let's try it together, okay?" Chris assured her, handing the camera to Matt and approaching his girlfriend, taking her hands and squeezing her fingers gently.

The girl nodded, maintaining her eyes on her boyfriend's face before focusing them on his lips, watching him saying the word again before trying it herself.

"S-par-gus. Asparagus." She repeated slowly, trying to imitate the pronunciation and accent Chris had shown her, finally saying it correctly.

"That's it, babe. You did it!" Chris smiled big, his voice echoing louder than before and euphoria exuding from his body. He quickly pulled her into a big hug, sealing the right side of her forehead with his lips for long seconds.

extra - comments:

"It's so incredible to see how Y/N has evolved every day with her english pronunciation 🥺"

"the way Chris is patient and kind in correcting her 😭"

"Chris helping Y/N pronounce the word in the right way was the best thing I've seen today 😔✋🏻"

"I agree with her, açaí with condensed milk and milk powder is the best thing in the world 🤭"

"have a boyfriend who supports you like Chris does for Y/N 😫😫"

　　　　　༻﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡༺

3. Euphoric mood

It was a busy day for Chris and his brothers. They were rushing from one appointment to another, trying to keep up with all the demands of the channel and their brands. However, what would normally be a busy day became even more chaotic due to Chris's uncontrollable euphoria.

From the moment he woke up, Chris was in full hyperactivity mode. He talked nonstop, jumping from one topic to another with dizzying rapidity. His brothers were beginning to get irritated by his incessant energy, unable to keep up with the frantic pace of his thoughts.

"Chris, bro, you need to calm down a little." Matt muttered, frowning as he tried to keep up with his brother's rapid-fire conversation.

"No, wait! I spoke to a friend who is going to medical school, Josh, you know him." Chris ignored him, continuing to speak without slowing down, his words coming out jumbled. "And if you had a broken bone or a sprain, you'd know already, you know? It's been so long since-"

"Chris, slow down." Nick shook his head, pinching the bridge of his nose with his index finger and thumb, feeling overwhelmed by the torrent of information coming out of Chris's mouth since hours before.

Chris stopped abruptly, looking at his brothers with a mixture of surprise and confusion.

"What? I'm just trying to help!"

Matt sighed, straightening in his seat on the couch, trying to find the right words to express his frustration.

"Chris, we understand you're trying to help me with my ankle, but you're driving us crazy with all this energy. We need a moment."

Before Chris could say anything, Y/N - who was in the kitchen preparing an afternoon snack for them - turned from her place and walked slowly into the living room, her hands holding a metal tray with the food, watching the scene with understanding eyes. She had noticed Chris's agitated state since the beginning of the day and knew it was time to intervene.

"Chris, honey." She called softly, placing the tray on the television stand and approaching him. "Why don't you sit down for a bit and relax? You're stressing yourself out."

"But baby, Matt has been in pain for days and doesn't want to take care of the problem, so I'm coming with the solution." Chris directed his gaze at her, frowning and crossing his arms like a child.

"I know, my love, and I think the boys understand that too. Why don't we watch something for a while? Your day was tiring as well. Maybe a little rest will help everyone, okay?" Y/N smiled gently, placing a comforting hand on his shoulder.

She guided him to the couch and made him sit with his back against the soft backrest, sitting next to him and raising her right hand, taking it to his head, stroking his hair gently with her long nails. Chris felt instantly calmer, his frantic mind slowing down.

Nick and Matt watched in surprise and amusement as Y/N calmed Chris with her simple presence and caring gesture. They never got tired of seeing the gigantic effect the girl had on their brother.

"Are you a magician or something?" Nick teased, earning a middle finger from Chris and a laugh from Y/N in response before finally grabbing his lunch from the tray.

　　　　　༻﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡༺

4. Making out session

Chris and Y/N were lying together in their bed, wrapped in a soft blanket as they watched an old romantic comedy movie on the television. The soft light from the screen illuminated their faces as they snuggled together, enjoying the tranquility and intimacy of the moment.

As the movie progressed, Chris felt his heart beating faster as his closeness to Y/N seemed to be more palpable. No matter how many years they had been together, Chris always felt like it was still the beginning of the relationship, or, as they say, the honeymoon phase.

His blue eyes found her side profile, admiring the softness of her features and the sparkle in her eyes as she was absorbed in the story of the couple in front of them.

Without thinking, the boy moved his hand, reaching for hers and intertwining their fingers. Y/N smiled softly at the gesture, lightly squeezing his hand, conveying comfort and affection without saying a word.

The girl turned her face towards him, feeling his eyes burning into her for long minutes, ready to question him if he was still interested in the story, but her words caught in her throat when she saw the intensity of his gaze.

She knew that look.

Their eyes remained connected for long seconds, the sound of the television becoming muffled to their ears. With one smooth movement, Chris slid his free hand up to Y/N's face, caressing her warm cheek with his fingers in an almost ghost touch. He felt the softness of her skin under his, losing himself in the comforting sensation.

Y/N sighed softly, closing her eyes and pending her head against his hand, enjoying the gentle affection. In one quick movement, Chris got closer to her face, leaning towards her. Their noses met lightly, the boy caressing the area lightly in an eskimo kiss before adjusting his position, their lips finally meeting in a slow and gentle kiss, filled with tenderness and desire.

They explored each other gently, their kiss slowly gaining a rhythms as they gave in to the intimacy of the moment. There was no rush, just the sweet feeling of being together.

Chris's warm tongue caressed her lower lip in a silent request for entrance, which was quickly granted, their tongues intertwining in a wet and skillful kiss.

The boy raised his free hand to the back of Y/N's head, his thumb pressing the tip of her jaw, caressing the hot and flushed skin tenderly, feeling drunk by the natural scent of her body as they surrendered to the heat of the moment. Their hearts beat in unison, a symphony of love and desperation.

In one swift movement, Y/N moved under the blanket that covered their legs, strategically climbing into his lap and sitting on his gray sweatpants covered thighs, her legs wrapping around his hips securely. She moved her hands to his shoulders, tilting her torso slightly and deepening the kiss with the new position.

External sounds disappeared for the two, only the sound of their rapid and choppy breaths echoing in their ears, creating a warm bubble around them.

Chris's hands traveled over Y/N's body in a slow and sensual way, finding home on her hips and tracing imaginary shapes with the tip of his fingers above the thin fabric of her panties, lightly squeezing the area, a low moan escaping the girl's throat.

When the air began to run out, they reluctantly separated, their eyes closed while their tongues still savored the fresh taste of each other that predominated their mouths. Y/N leaned her forehead against his, lightly pressing their noses together as she caught her breath.

When her eyes finally opened, her first sight was Chris's swollen-lipped smirk.

　　　　　༻﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡༺

5. Trying to match my boyfriend eating

Y/N's phone camera was already open, and the device rested on the nightstand on her side of the bed, propped up against the pink lamp so that the screen pointed towards her and, consequently, Chris, who would sit next to her.

The girl smiled at the front camera after clicking the red record button, settling back down on the mattress, waiting for Chris, who would return soon with the burgers they had ordered for delivery to eat while they watched a movie.

The sound of the door opening echoed through the room some minutes after, and the girl quickly lifted her gaze towards the source, smiling widely when she saw her boyfriend with the large paper bag in one of his hands.

She quickly took it from him, opening it in one quick movement and taking out the burgers, fries, and sodas, individually separating the ones that were hers and the ones that were his.

"Hungry, babe?" Chris asked with a smile in his voice, a nasal laugh following his sentence as he settled into bed next to her, retrieving his burger quickly.

"You have no idea." The girl murmured, taking advantage of the fact that Chris was unwrapping his lunch as if it were the most precious thing in the world to quickly look at her phone, winking at the camera, unwrapping her own burger.

Y/N wasted no time, noticing from the corner of her eyes her boyfriend already taking the first bite, quickly following him. She tried to bite off a piece in the same size as his, but her attempt was futile, only getting half of it, which was already too much for her.

Chris chewed the piece without any problems, leaning forward slightly and reaching for the remote control that was in the middle of the bed, quickly picking it up and clicking the play button, resuming the movie where they stopped before the food arrived, his mouth working on taking another bite without even looking at his burger.

Y/N's eyes widened, forcing herself to swallow what was still in her mouth so she could take more, this time a little bigger than the last. She found it difficult to chew as quickly as Chris did, closing her eyes tightly as she tried, futilely, to concentrate on swallowing as quickly as possible.

A cough escaped her throat, muffled by her closed lips, but catching the boy's attention, who looked up at her with his brow furrowed in confusion.

His blue eyes widened comically at the sight of her cheeks inflated because of the food and trying to chew, a loud laugh escaping his lips.

"Babe, what the fuck are you doing? Slow down." The brunette adverted, wrapping his burger again and leaving it on the bed - away from his legs so as not to run the risk of crushing it.

He leaned toward her, patting her back lightly with his right hand while his left reached for her Diet Coke, touching the end of the straw to her closed lips.

Chris watched her carefully and with worried eyes, waiting for her to swallow the food, finally taking a few slow sips of the sweet drink.

"I'm sorry." Y/N whispered, a small smile decorating her face along with her cheeks flushed in embarrassment. "It was supposed to be a TikTok, but you eat too quickly."

The boy shook his head in confusion, running his eyes around the room and quickly finding his girl's phone recording them.

"Your food will run away or something?"

"Shut up."

© vanteguccir

[seeleybooth]

What are you doing out here? - I was... - No. In fact, do not answer that. It is clear I found you in the midst of some... secret dealings. I do not wish to know. And what "secret dealings" have I found you in the midst of, all alone the night before our wedding? What right do you have to ask me that?

/

"He tried to picture a life without Penelope. It was impossible.

Just weeks ago she'd been ... He stopped, thought. What had she been? A friend? An acquaintance? Someone he saw and never really noticed?

And now she was his fiancee, soon to be his bride. And maybe... maybe she was something more than that. Something deeper. Something even more precious.

"What I want to know," he asked, deliberately forcing the conversation back on topic so his mind wouldn't wander down such dangerous roads, "is why you're not jumping on the pet-fect alibi if the point is to remain anonymous."

"Because remaining anonymous isn't the point!" she fairy yelled.

"You want to be found out?" he asked, gaping at her in the candlelight.

"No, of course not," she replied. "But this is my work.

This is my life's work. This is all I have to show for my life, and if I can't take the credit for it, I'll be damned if someone else will."

Colin opened his mouth to offer a retort, but to his surprise, he had nothing to say. Life's work. Penelope had a life's work.

He did not.

She might not be able to put her name on her work, but when she was alone in her room, she could look at her back issues, and point to them, and say to herself, This is it. This is what my life has been about.

"Colin?" she whispered, clearly startled by his silence.

She was amazing. He didn't know how he hadn't realized it before, when he'd already known that she was smart and lovely and witty and resourceful. But all those adjectives, and a whole host more he hadn't yet thought of, did not add up to the true measure of her.

And he was.... Dear God above, he was jealous of her.

"I'll go," she said softly, turning and walking towards the door.

For a moment he didn't react. His mind was still frozen, reeling with revelations. But when. When he saw her hand on the doorknob, he knew he could not let her go. Not this night, not ever.

"No," he said hoarsely, closing the distance between them in three long strides. "No," he said again, "I want you to stay."

She looked up at him, her eyes two pools of confusion. "but you said---"

He cupped her face tenderly with his hands. "Forget what I said."

And that was when he realized that Daphne had been right. His love hadn't been a thunderbolt from the sky. It had started with a smile, a word, a teasing glance. Every second he had spent in her presence it had grown, until he'd reached this moment, and he suddenly knew.

He loved her.

He was still furious with her for publishing that last column, and he was bloody ashamed of himself that he was actually jealous of her for having found a life's work and purpose, but even with all that, he loved her.

And if let her walk out that door right now, he would never forgive himself.

Maybe this, then, was the definition of love. When you wanted someone, needed her, adored her, even when you were utterly furious and quite ready to tie her to the bed just to keep her from going out and making more trouble. This was the night. This was the moment. He was brimming with emotion, and he had to tell her. He had to show her.

"Stay," we whispered, and he pulled her to him, roughly, hungrily, without apology or explanation.

"Stay," he said again, leading her to his bed.

And when she didn't do anything, he said it for a third time.

"Stay." She nodded.

He took her into his arms.

This was Penelope, and this was love."

Romancing Mister Bridgerton, Chapter 17

[doctorwhoandfairytaillover]

Loving Arms (2)

Summary: The children of Viserys I from his wife Alicent Hightower had always been lacking in affection from their parents. They simply didn't realize how much until their widowed aunt was brought into their lives. (AU where Alicent has an older sister and her kids get the love that they deserve, takes place some time after the Driftmark event)

Part II: Family Dinner

A/N: No pairings as of right now as I want to focus on the familial and platonic relationships with Greens when they're still quite young. (credit for the divider goes to @kawaii-lau)

The royal family were not ones to eat a meal together often; typically dinner consisted of Alicent, Helaena, and Aemond. Or Otto and Alicent, even simply Aemond and Helaena. But rare was the occurrence that Aegon would sit at the table to dine with his family and that all members, apart from his Majesty the King Viserys, would choose to eat with one another.

Of course, the elder Hightower daughter was unaware that it was solely due to her arrival that all were seated at the table.

The meal itself was sumptuous; fresh venison on a bed of roasted vegetables, bread straight from the oven, a hearty stew, and a variety of sweet cakes and treats. All things that (Y/N) did not hesitate to eat from her plate, famished from her weary travels.

It was quiet, save for the occasional scrape of knives and the clink of forks or spoons.

"Well," Alicent smiled. "Isn't it lovely that we can all come together and eat as a family after so many years apart. If only Gwayne was here as well, then it would be similar to our youth, don't you think (Y/N)?"

Her older sister offered a tense smile, "I suppose it is a bit like our childhood. I am surprised you still remember any of it since you were quite young at our last family gathering."

"It comes and goes, because as you say, I was quite young when... when our mother passed," Alicent smiled at her children and all three straightened. "But I am reminded of it when I spend time with my sons and daughter."

"Then I am sure she barely remembers then," Aegon muttered and earning himself a kick to leg from Aemond.

"Behave!" the younger scolded.

Otto cleared his throat and the boys sat up in their chairs once more.

"Let us move past all this," the Hand said. "No need to trouble ourselves with the nonsense of remembering bygones and look to the future. Keeping our family strong and well established.

"Hear, hear!" Alicent agreed while lifting her chalice in agreement.

His oldest daughter couldn't help but laugh at her father's words and shook her head.

"Did you find any humor in my words, daughter?" he asked.

The tone in which he spoke, seemed to trigger something in Alicent as she shrunk back in her seat and looked to the meal in front of her. Her older sister, on the other hand stared straight ahead to their father.

"I find it amusing that you say that, Father" (Y/N) said while cutting into her venison. "You didn't seem to find the notion of family all that important when you left behind two orphaned children in Oldtown for your elder brother to deal with."

A sweeping silence fell over the table.

"Or am I wrong?" she asked. "Mother had recently passed when you left Gwayne and I behind at Oldtown, taking only our dear Alicent with you. She was your favorite after all."

"Do not start with me, (Y/N)!" Otto scolded. "You know your brother was being raised to someday lead Oldtown in my stead."

"What about your recently disfigured daughter? Why was she left behind?" she asked. "Or were you too ashamed that my face would make you a laughingstock. When as your oldest daughter, I should have also been allowed to accompany you to find an advantageous marriage as well."

"Do not speak nonsense, (Y/N)." Her father grumbled, "It was to your benefit that you stayed behind, otherwise you would have never been able to marry your husband. I have always looked to ensure our family would be well off."

She scoffed and rolled her eyes, a soft frown marring her features. Her father's response seemed to aggravate her more than she let on, as she stood up from her seat, scraping it heavily against the floor.

"I think I will retire to my chambers for the evening," she turned to smile softly at her nephews and niece. "I will see all of you early tomorrow morning, I have a few things that I brought you three from Dorne."

She turned stiffly to her younger sister and father, "Good night!"

The clicking of her heels against the floor echoed as she left the room, and the Targaryen siblings looked to one another before turning their gaze to their mother and grandsire.

"May we be excused, Mother?" Aemond asked politely.

Alicent looked to be apprehensive, but her father wanted to have a word with her and waved the trio off. Muttering to himself in annoyance over his eldest daughter's words and behavior that evening.

Aegon was quick to pull his younger brother and sister from their seats, hoping that he could avoid either of the adults minds from allowing them to step away. Knowing that they would attempt to stop the siblings if they knew that they would chase after their aunt.

"Come on, come on!" Aegon urged with a giggle, hurrying to catch up with (Y/N).

Something soft bubbled beneath Aegon's chest and he could not remember a time he had felt this way since his childhood had been marred by maltreatment, neglect, and unkind words. But seeing his own aunt stand up for herself, not letting his grandsire excuse himself for his callous actions of the past, it lit a small feeling of hope that perhaps someone could understand.

And he didn't want to let that feeling go.

Aemond was struggling through his own internal torment and insecurity. He did not want to get his hopes up that his aunt would understand his feelings about feeling othered and scorned for his appearance that was he felt was no fault of his own, but he knew that he truly wanted to know.

No, he needed to know if there was someone else like him.

Helaena, perhaps did not feel as conflicting emotions as that of her older and younger brothers, but she also felt that things would soon change with the presence of their outspoken aunt. Words had often failed her, those closest to her rarely were able to understand the young princess even when she was direct with her words. But now... now here was this woman, that was clear and did not mince her words and let her thoughts be known.

She wanted to learn from this woman that was not afraid to be herself.

And there, standing alongside her sworn guard was (Y/N) as she intended to ready herself in her chambers.

But almost collectively the three shouted, "Muña!"

She turned to them and as soon as her soft eyes fell on their figures.

She smiled.

And it was then, the three were absolutely certain that they needed her to be a permanent fixture in their lives.

A/N: And that concludes part 2! 🥳 Please let me know what you all think, I am honestly super pumped to continue this series.

PS. If your name doesn't show up highlighted, I am not able to tag you properly for some reason.

Tag List:

@minaxcarter, @hotleaf-juice, @pikomin, @deltamoon666, @cococrazy18, @firefairy, @dracaryxzs, @snowbunny58, @lacherrysouldy, @only4thefics, @queen-luna-007, @ambrivertenergy, @kayllineb12, @minejungwoo, @delaynew, @agustdeeyaa, @hueanhdang

[lovely-peace]

Embarrassing!

Summary: The marauders are popular in school, sure. But that doesn't mean that they are really nice. In the end you are just living the basic high-school experience.

Pairing: Remus Lupin x Gryffindor!reader

Warnings: Low self esteem, past bullying?, This is no bully! Marauders fic!!

Part 2 Part 3

"You four back there, pull yourselves together now or I'll break you up!"

James' laughter could be heard all the way to the front, to my ears, along with the giggling of the girls next to me.

Great. So I must have been wrong again.

Professor McGonagall was now looking at me, teachingly. "To get back on topic. You have the right idea, but it's not quite that simple. To transform a body, it is of great importance…"

~

"Oh come on, it wasn't that bad. You weren't that far off the mark." Lily tried to comfort me. That was easy for her to say, she would never be wrong.

And the golden git Gryffindors would never make fun of her.

"Maybe."

"Evans, will you come here?" There stood the loverboy James, ready to have another go at her.

Lily rolled her eyes and smiled apologetically at me. "Don't take these idiots seriously, okay?"

With that, she walked in his direction, and did just that.

But I shouldn't be so hard on her because she was really trying to cheer me up, even though we're not really friends. She's clearly, well, more present than my friend Amy and me.

Amy was Gryffindor just like me, but didn't have transfiguration. She called the subject "A walking unnecessary babble".

Oh how I wish I had thought that when I chose my subjects.

I could still see Sirius grinning as James talked to Lily, Remus just stood there ashamed and Peter patted him on the shoulder.

Sirius noticed my look and whispered something to Remus, who flinched and turned away. I snorted.

Sirius' laughter was still ringing loudly in my ears, long after I had escaped to Amy's and my dorm.

~

"Well, I think they're really annoying. That's all." Amy pushed a plate of dinner towards me. She immediately realized something was wrong and I wasn't ready to go to dinner. I was very glad she was so good at the invisibility spell.

"Yes, but everyone likes them. Even Lily likes the four of them, even though she's always upset about them!" I groaned loudly and accepted the plate gratefully.

Amy looked at me with a smile. "Well, I don't really like them. They're entertaining, but I think they lack empathy."

"I think they're all stupid ego centers who only make themselves so important because they actually feel so bad about themselves." I took a big bite.

"And yet you can't stop talking about the four of them." Amy was grinning now. "I thought you said the other day that 'Remus isn't actually that bad and nice to talk to'?"

I almost choked at the mention of meeting the quieter boy of the group. It had been three months since we had met and talked in the library.

"That was something else. He just watches and lets the others get away with everything." I quietly turned to my food and Amy dropped the subject.

Oh, how I hated this cycle. Getting up. Eating at a house table where I know everyone and yet no one really. Subjects in which I will eventually make a mistake. Skipping meals to avoid the stares. Sleeping.

Hogwarts isn't that different from other schools. The same faces making fun of the same things. But we're all supposed to be adults soon, aren't we?

I should stop before I sound like an angsty teen.

~

Breakfast. New day, same course. I sat down opposite Amy and a laugh escaped my lips at one of her jokes.

But then another girl sat down next to me. Marlene McKinnon.

"Hey, you two, how are you?" she smiled, but something made me uncomfortable.

"Good, good." Amy laughed. "And you?"

"Oh, just fine." Marlene looked at my plate as if to check something. Suddenly I felt uncomfortable having a few chocolate cookies in the morning.

She turned to me. Oh no.

"Hey, this might be a bit sudden, but I'd like to know something." There was this twinkle in her eye that I didn't like at all.

I looked at Amy, who just shrugged her shoulders.

"Okay?" Very carefully. Don't make any big mistakes.

"If you had to date someone from Gryffindor, who would it be?"

I looked confusedly at Amy, who had to pull herself together not to burst out laughing.

"What?"

Marlene shrugged her shoulders. "Oh, I was just a bit curious as I've never seen you in a relationship with anyone before."

I saw her eyes twitch briefly to the right. When I looked in that direction, not very inconspicuously, I saw Sirius whispering something to James. He grinned at Remus in response.

Oh.

"Well, I can't really think of anyone right now, sorry Marlene."

She looked at me in surprise and wanted to say something, but Amy gasped in shock. Shocked, she clutched her chest. "After everything we've been through!" she didn't exactly say that quietly. To my dismay, quite a few heads turned towards us. Including the idiots.

"Amy-" I began, but she talked herself into her theater rage. "Hush! I don't want to hear any excuses! I thought we were something special! But no. In the end, I'm just another one of the many picks that will never be taken." She stood up. She skillfully looked away and took in the audience. "I can reassure you. I was prepared for all of this."

"Amy, it's not what you think!" I played along a little now. "I couldn't be so open about something so… Say something like that!"

Amy furrowed her brow. "Girl, no homo."

The Gryffindor table laughed and we fled the room.

Outside, we also laughed a bit, but Amy quickly composed herself.

"Did you see how he looked at you?"

I furrowed my brow. "Who?"

She rolled her eyes. "Remus, of course."

"Maybe it's because you made a big show," I said playfully, heading towards our next class.

"Hmm, but I think then he wouldn't have looked at you so longingly-"

"Amy!"

"With red cheeks and big heart eyes!" I walked faster while she laughed.

"That's all nonsense. Marlene only asked because one of those idiots requested it."

Amy looked at me confused. "Why would they do that?"

"Oh, they were looking at us too. And yesterday they were whispering among themselves. They probably find me really funny."

Amy became very quiet after that.

The only sounds were our footsteps and voices in the distance.

"You know," Amy began quieter than usual. "It's not like it used to be. We're all slowly growing up. We're not the odd ones out anymore. I think," she took a deep breath. "That the four of them won't make fun of us, of you, anymore."

How much I wished I could believe that. But I won't be able to, even if Remus talks to me in the library or Peter asks me if I like certain creatures.

Because in the end, I gave up on that a long time ago.

[tricksh0t]

★ need a ride

☾ aegon targaryen x dom m reader

𝘱𝘳𝘦-𝘵𝘳𝘪𝘤𝘬𝘴𝘩0𝘵 ⛥ truthfully this should've been ready like two weeks ago but i put off doing the finishing details (exposition and conclusion) bc i've been busy (tests n stuff!!)

𝘴𝘩𝘰𝘵𝘴 ⛥ 1.28k

cw: thigh riding, comparisons to a dog, humping, finishing untouched, clothed s*x, unspecified but mentioned age gap, light praise kink, sweet thing as a nickname

It's a usual day in the Red Keep. You can only tell that today's King's Landing afternoon is humid and sunny because it streams through the windows. You are kept inside, hidden away, by the Dowager Queen's idle duties after your refusal of the position of Hand and her former sworn protector's ascension.

That is, until the King summoned you.

"Need me to take care of you again?" Aegon replied with a small nod. He's ashamed of that. You shake your head, "No, it's alright."

You settle onto one of his couches comfortably. Any servant would say you are behaving in a way unbecoming of a royal servant, a King's Guard. Neither of you care. "Come here, Your Grace."

Aegon takes his usual spot upon your lap. He doesn't even need any instructing for it.

You'd call your lap a second throne, if it weren't for the fact it was not glorious, not in his eyes. You're his respite, someone to fall back to time and time again, but he can never forget what it is that brings him to you. He can never forget how dependent he is on this.

And, despite all that shame, he always keeps crawling back with every slight inconvenience.

"They're not listening to me, Ser. Not my mother, not my brother, not my Hand. Not my Masters." Aegon huffs, trying to keep his emotions down. It's a valiant effort, for the man you know that he is. "It's so frustrating, Ser."

"You know you don't have to call me Ser." You say, already holding the back of his head and tilting his head up towards you.

"Yes, but..." It almost looks like he's pouting. You're trying to change the subject, he knows. "well, it feels wrong, you know."

Of all the manners lost on him, you're surprised this is what sticks. You suppose it's the fact you've been a knight well before he'd been born. You've always been "Ser".

"A-And you don't have to call me Your Grace." He stuttered. Was it exhaustion? No, he was nervous to say that.

"I should refer to the King with utmost respect." You say, proudly, and that makes Aegon scoff.

"You don't really mean that. I'm a shadow compared to you!" His eyes stray from yours.

You, of many feats. You, of many stories. Yes, you know he respects you, you know he admires you, but you have to make sure that crown doesn't fall from his pretty little head.

"You cast the shadows upon Westeros." You say, gripping his jaw so that he looks at you, correctly. "You, Aegon Targaryen, are the King. Not me, not your mother, not your brother."

You can see that your words are of little effect. You sigh, lifting one of his legs to make him straddle one of your thighs.

The usual position has his cock rising in his pants already.

"Go on." You coo, cupping his cheek. "Take what you need."

It's an art, almost, being able to cum just by grinding down against your thigh, clothed even. It's another art to be the one to arouse him enough for such a thing. With anyone else you'd imagine there is a little shame to this, but Aegon humps your leg like it's the best prize in the world.

What a selfless little dog, he is.

He tries to hide his face into your neck, but you won't have it. You tug his hair to stop him, causing a wince to fall on heedful ears.

"Ah ah," You tut disappointedly. "I'm sorry, my King, but I'll have none of that. Let me see you."

"Y-Yes, Ser." Aegon says shakily.

"There you are, sweet thing." You cup his cheeks, brushing your thumbs over his eyelids to make sure he knows that you do not need him to see you, that he can do anything he wants so long as he sits pretty.

The little gesture makes his cock twitch in his pants, against your thigh. Or maybe it isn't the gesture?

"Good. You're doing good."

Aegon whimpers. His teeth clamp down onto his lip soon after, to quiet himself.

He can't see the amused look on your face, with his eyes closed. He can't even hear it in your tone, mind numbed as it is. You sneak a thumb under his teeth and pry his mouth open. "Don't hurt yourself, my King."

He shakes his head. No, he'll continue biting down, hurting himself. Or..?

"No, not my King?"

Aegon's lips close around your thumb. He suckles lightly, as if in affirmation. No, probably not in affirmation, just sheer instinct and comfort. Maybe you just know how to read him.

"You'll make yourself bleed one day, sweet thing."

That gets a reaction out of him. So it's the nickname, or maybe it's how caring you sound, or maybe it's both.

Whatever it is, Aegon's hips do not stall. He has humped himself dumb on your thighs in much worse cases of exhaustion and fatigue. Tonight, he will do just fine.

Aegon has felt dragonfire before—well, at least near him; close enough to boast at taverns. Though he has never been burned, he knows the feeling of heat upon his skin.

It is not the same as heat in your muscles, not the same as the heat in his thighs begging him for a break.

He'll endure, though, wrap his arms around your neck to stabilize himself and keep going. Not because of the pleasure, no, though it numbs all rationality, but it is because that is what a King should do: endure, because he must.

"There you go."

Aegon's mouth falls open, and though it is a loss to not pacify himself with your thumb, he can't help the moans that befall him.

"Thank you."

He's all but humping your thigh. Selfish in the way he's using your body for it, selfless in the way he does not ask for more.

He's good for you, Aegon the Magnanimous.

Head tilted down, his neck gone slack, Aegon finds himself further undone the closer he gets to release. His hands don't lock together behind your head anymore. Instead, they find themselves upon your shoulders, which he grips tight to push himself closer.

The friction of his cock against each layer of clothing is like dragonfire too. It makes his cock, hard all swollen, he can feel it, burn with rough friction, but he can't get enough, anyway. In contrast, your armor is clean and smooth, befitting of your white cloak yet also making it easier to hump against. He yearns to spoil it, one day.

It burns so bad, but it also burns so good.

Aegon is so so close.

"Please what, lovely?"

Had he said something?

"Please." His lips follow along like they know what to say better than his mind does. "Please, I wanna finish." He blabbles on.

You're amused, if anything, that he thinks he needs permission. "Go on, you've been so good. You deserve it."

The praise, the permission–he is borne of ash and fire, but his nails do not dent your armor as they dig into your shoulderplates, nor do his thighs squeeze like a vice around yours, nor are his teeth upon your flesh.

He's a soft thing, a good thing. You wonder, when the Gods flipped his coin, which side he landed on.

Aegon moans one final, strong time, hips jerking then halting abruptly, then stuttering. He pants, regains his breath, your sweet thing to dote on.

"There. Feels good, sweet thing?"

He'd just finished in his pants, like dirty dog, humped you to release, like a dirty dog; but all he can think to do is collapse in your arms. "Yes."

𝘱𝘰𝘴𝘵-𝘵𝘳𝘪𝘤𝘬𝘴𝘩0𝘵 ⛥ anyone notice aemond's is "need a ride?" and aegon's is "need a ride" ? i think im so clever

[thebearer]

please please please need a part two of the fight blurb 😭 what happens next 😭😭😭

should i make it into a full fic omg?? maybe?? lol

but on the real, i think that he would have to take a leave from the restaurant, which truthfully, everyone needed. this is just what broke him. the one time he actually tries to deal with his shit and not just blow up, get embarrassed, try to make it up, and repeat the cycle with no real change. i mean, you took his babies? anchovy and teddy. you're not returning his calls. richie, fak, and sweeps are alternating wellness check watches because they're terrified he's going to hurt himself, especially after the way he spiraled when he found your wedding ring.

he knows where you're at. he managed to become technologically savvy all of a sudden and figured out how to see your location, that you shared with him when you first started dating. fak wouldn't let him take his car. richie had put him on a full blown "psych ward type shit" lockdown until he "got his shit together, cousin".

"richie said-"

"-richie's a fuckin' moron, give me my fucking keys, fak!"

"carmen," fak frowns. "i-i can't."

so carmen walked. he walked to sugar and pete's house. nearly an hour walk through chicago. smoking so much he felt sick.

pete answered the door, face falling as soon as he saw carmen.

"carm, h-hey, man-"

"-where is she?" carmen wasn't interested on any sort of small talk, tunnel visioned to get to you.

"uh, i-i don't-"

"-pete, i really don't want you to fuck with me right now, alright." carmen took a deep breath, throat burning with tears. "i need to see- i-i need to see her pete." he couldn't bring himself to even say your name.

a tiny meow came from behind pete, anchovy skippering towards carmen with bright eyes, tail raised. it made carmen's jaw clench, tears blurring his vision. he knew you had to be close by. looking at the time, you were probably feeding teddy, maybe putting her down for a nap. he should have been more considerate, came later in the day, carmen thought.

pete looked at the cat, down the hall, then back at carmen. "carm..." pete hesitated, gripping the door, letting it shut gently, shielding something behind him. "you know i can't."

"what the fuck? pete that's- just let me in." anger surged through carmen's chest, trying to swallow it down. all he'd been was angry. angry and sick and distraught, a never ending cycle for weeks, just amplified by your leaving.

"you want to get her back? quit actin' like a goddam baby." richie sneered one night, just days ago, when carmen was especially awful and mean. "quit actin' like this isn't your fuckin' fault. like you didn't do this to yourself. take some fuckin' accountability, grow the fuck up, and get your motherfuckin' shit together. and maybe-maybe you'll get your family back."

carmen turned, running a hand over his face, trying to calm himself. keep himself from crying, from screaming, from pushing pete down and running back there so he could see you himself- throw himself at your feet and beg for forgiveness.

"pete, please? please?" carmen's voice wobbled, breaking gently. "please l-let me talk to her. just let me- let me tell her i'm sorry. don't-"

"-carmen?" sugar's voice came from behind pete. her face dropped, different than pete's, her's was angry. "what the fuck are you doing here?"

"why do you think i'm here, natalie? huh?-"

"-oh, you've got a lot of fucking nerve showing up here." natalie sneered, pulling the door open and stepping out. "pete, go inside."

"nat-"

"-i got it." natalie hissed, eyes narrowing at carmen. she waited until pete left, shaking her head at him. "you should be fucking ashamed-"

"-i am-"

"-mortified." sugar continued. "do you know what i came home to the other night? i came home to pete taking care of your baby because your wife came here sobbing- sobbing, because you screamed at her? what the fuck is wrong with you? huh?"

"i don't know." carmen's voice was tight, fighting a tremble. "i-i don't fuckin' know. i didn't- i-i didn't mean-" a tear fell, the final crack in his demeanor. carmen wasn't sure how he had tears left, how he could sob anymore. yet here he was, on his sister's porch, tears flowing again.

sugar didn't comfort him, didn't move, just watched him through glaring eyes. "please let me s-see her. let me se-ee teddy, sugar, don't-don't keep my kid from me-"

"-i'm not keeping your kid from you." sugar snapped. "i didn't take teddy away. you know who did? you. you did carmen."

carmen flinched, he knew it was true but it still stung. "i know you don't remember dad very well, but you're acting just like him." sugar sneered.

"and before you try and come up with an excuse-"

"-i-i'm not-"

"-i want you to know, that every day. every single fucking day, there's days i want to drink myself to sleep. that mj or maggie make me want to pull my hair out and scream, or pete does something that infuriates me, but you know what i don't do?" sugar stepped towards carmen, arms still crosses. "i don't yell at them, i don't drink myself incoherent, i don't fucking act like mom or dad because i know how that felt." sugar jabbed a finger in her chest, eyes holding carmen's gaze intensely.

"i know how that fucked me up, i know how it fucked them up, how it fucked you and mikey up too- how it fucked everything in our fucking life up!" natalie laughed humorlessly. "and the last thing, the very last thing i would want, is to do that to pete, to my kids, to anyone."

carmen felt sick and yet eerily calm all at once. his chest was tight, he was sure he couldn't breathe, but he couldn't stop listening. a damning realization- a shameful one.

"you need to make up your mind, right here, right now, before you see anyone else." natalie stepped back towards the door. "you need to decide if you're going to continue to be a selfish piece of shit, or if you're going to change. and i can tell you, change is uncomfortable- it's not easy. you have to fight for it every single day. but i would rather do that than not have my family."

she looked down at carmen, twisting the knob. "you decide that, then maybe- maybe you can see them." carmen flinched at the door slamming behind her, not moving from his place on the porch, head in his hands.

fak showed up nearly an hour later, wide eyed and rambling about "how the fuck did you just leave? i was playing ball buster and-and then you're gone-"

carmen ignores him, sliding into the car slowly. "carmen?"

"you uh," carmen's voice is hoarse, staring straight ahead. "you said that, uh, that richie's got.... got someone for me to talk to?"

fak blinks, nodding slowly. "the therapist? yeah-"

"-take me there." carmen looks over at sugar's house. he isn't sure if it's his imagination or not, but for a moment he swears he can see you, peeking through the blinds.

"a-are you ok?" fak is worried, a little rattled at the sudden change. especially since carmen had been so adamant about not seeing "your stupid fuckin' therapist, richie, clearly she's no fuckin' good because look at you! you're still fucked up!" carmen's enraged words from days ago.

"no," carmen admits, throat swelling with a growing lump. "but, uh, i-i wanna be." he admits quietly, looking over at fak. "i gotta get my shit together, fak. i-i gotta be better for them."

fak doesn't deny it, doesn't console him. just goes quiet with a nod, driving away. carmen watches sugar's house disappear in the rearview, his heart aching, breaking, but he knows natalie is right. he knows he'll be back once he's better, that he has to be better. for teddy. for you. for your family.

[ekkkkey]

there will be games! (chapter II)

summary: Cassandra, a quiet and loyal wife to the much older Senator Tiberius, accidentally attracts the unsettling attention of Emperor Caracalla at a lavish feast hosted by Senator Thraex...

warnings: 18+ minors dni, noncon, dub-con, non-consensual drug use, when the emperor is a bit insane, mommy issues, daddy issues, every kind of issues—this little shit has them all (he’s so cute)

word count: 5k words

chapter I

«No woman could feel safe if her beauty or name aroused the emperor's curiosity.»

-Suetonius, The Twelve Caesars (Caligula, Chapter 36)

⋆ ⋆ ☼ ⋆ ⋆

She didn't want to get out of bed, didn't want to leave their room, all she wanted was to go home. Not to their new villa in Rome, not even to her husband's old house. Cassandra longed for her childhood home, with her father and sisters, where she could always be the little girl.

"You're an early bird today," Tiberius said, waking and stretching towards her.

Her heart skipped, her palms sweaty with worry.

"Those who apologize properly deserve forgiveness, don't they, little bird?" - another voice, deceptively tender but promising nothing good, echoed in her mind.

Cassandra wrapped herself tighter in the sheet, licking her lips, hiding her body from her husband, not wanting his touch.

"I slept poorly. And I don't feel well. When will we return home?"

Tiberius got up, his brief morning tenderness replaced by his usual sour mood.

"When the games end. Not before. I've got business."

Normally gentle and shy, she never argued with him, but this time, she tossed the sheet aside and jumped up, chasing after him, desperate to talk face-to-face. Her hands shook. She pictured herself – pale, nervous, dark circles under her eyes, hair a mess, more like a madwoman than a loving wife. Ashamed of her sudden anger, Cassandra covered up again.

"I feel awful, I'm nauseous, could it be a child, Tiberius?" she tried to elicit some sympathy, pressing her hand to her stomach.

She couldn't stand another moment in the palace.

"Tell me, wife, what troubles you so much?" - he took a step forward. She had never truly feared him, but suddenly realized that after yesterday, both he disgusted her and she feared him. It was his fault! Everything that happened to her was his fault!

"I'm really not well."

"And where better than the emperor's palace to find a good physician?"

Realizing her words were futile, she slumped back on the bed's edge, and Tiberius knelt in front of her, resting his cheek against her leg.

"The emperor," he began, "Emperor Caracalla, he's ill. His mind is rotting, just like his body, so you won't find better physicians here. Should I call someone for you?"

Cassandra couldn't breathe, pulling away from her husband, standing up in a daze, not caring about her nudity. Even when servants walked in, she didn't cover up, lost in dark thoughts.

Emperor Caracalla's mind was afflicted by a disease? What kind of disease? She knew nothing about medicine and couldn't even guess. Did this make him more dangerous, or was his nature already cruel and violent? His smirking face flashed in her mind, his mood swings, his smile turning to a sneer...

Cassandra flinched when someone touched her from behind. She quickly scolded herself.

"Stop, he won't burst into your chambers while you're with your husband!" - she repeated, but she didn't believe it, if he wanted, he'd take her right in front of Tiberius, and no one would stop him.

She spent the entire morning trying to comfort herself, but her anxiety only grew. First, Tiberius noticed the purple bite on her skin. She managed to excuse it, saying he'd had too much wine and hadn't been gentle with her in bed. He believed her.

She was horrified again when the slave girls began to dress her.

"This isn't my clothing!" - the fabrics were too vivid and fine, and they...they smelled of aromatic oils and powder.

"Not yours, true, but we'll be here for some time, and until your clothes arrive from the villa, you need something to wear, don't you?" her husband murmured, looking at her like a piece of art. "You can't just walk around naked, can you?"

She would have preferred to parade through the palace entirely naked rather than willingly wear the clothes and jewels Caracalla had sent her, fully aware of how pleased he would be. Yet, the problem was, her nude debut would have left him equally pleased.

The stands were louder than ever, and only when they entered the imperial box did she understand why. The Colosseum was flooded!

They were late due to her distraction and sluggishness; if she had her way, they wouldn't have come at all, but there she was, seated behind Lucilla once again.

Despite the excitement of the ship battles, the clanging of metal, her eyes kept falling on the red-haired head before her.

Neither emperor acknowledged their arrival, too absorbed in the spectacle, and while Geta later gave her husband a nod of recognition, Caracalla didn't even turn around. Anger simmered in her chest. For him, last night was nothing, but for her...For her, it had haunted her all night and morning. All her thoughts were trapped in those wretched, humiliating moments.

Why did he seem to have forgotten while she, cursedly, remembered every touch? Remembered his hands were soft and hot, his scent sweet, almost intoxicating... And, of course, she remembered the bitter humiliation from his words, from how he touched her, and that Emperor Geta had watched it all.

Cassandra pressed hard on her palm where the wound was healing, trying to push away the memories. She wouldn't let him occupy her mind as well.

Yet, she couldn't relax, pandemonium broke out in the box when the ships came too close and an arrow hit the column between the emperors' chairs. The last thing she heard before Tiberius pulled her out was Emperor Geta's piercing scream.

The palace was buzzing with unbearable noise, the feast meant for evening had transitioned into the day, though the servants were not fully prepared.

Cassandra stood by a column, wine cup in hand. Her husband had left her again, off with General Acacius. The emperors were nowhere to be seen, nor were most of the Senate.

"How many do you think will be executed today?" she heard a quiet female whisper.

"I wouldn't be surprised if the emperor ordered all the gladiators on the field to be gutted," another voice answered, "you know how he is, insatiable!" A burst of giggling followed, and Cassandra stopped listening, embarrassed by the direction of their conversation.

She understood that for many, winning the emperors’ favor was a dream. But for her? She was a married woman who had spent her youth cultivating a sense of duty, loyalty, and responsibility. Why, then, had the gods abandoned her? Faithful and devoted as she was, they had thrown her to their earthly incarnations to be torn apart.

"More wine, domina?" a slave girl dutifully refilled her goblet.

The girl was young, dark-skinned, and beautiful, with large, intelligent eyes. Cassandra noticed the gilded collar around her slender neck and suddenly felt an invisible, soft, and hot hand squeezing her own throat. In a rush, she took a large gulp, wincing at the bitter taste, then handed the cup back.

"No more, thank you," she said, licking her lips nervously, knowing she wouldn't find peace in this cacophony.

"Are you not well, domina?" the girl asked, worry in her voice.

"I just...I need some time alone," she muttered quickly, stepping away from the column, only to stagger and clutch her head. What was happening to her?

"Do you want me to take you somewhere quiet, domina? You can rest and come back later," the girl didn't wait for an answer, guiding her by the elbow out of the room. Such audacity from a slave was unheard of, but Cassandra was too rattled and her head was spinning.

"Where are we going?"

They navigated past the throne room into a small, almost secretive chamber. The ceiling wasn't as high, the columns much less grand, the lighting dim and gloomy, and in the center stood a white altar, adorned with gold. In her parents' home, next to her room, there was a similar one, much more modest, of course, but dear to her heart, where she had prayed to her late mother.

"Wait outside," the words were both a sentence for her and an order for the slave.

She wanted to scream. Of course, he was here. No one was to be trusted, even the slave's kindness was a trap—cruel and painful. Was she truly nothing more than a prisoner here, a powerless plaything to entertain the young emperor?

Every time she saw him, he seemed like a different person. He was dressed in black and gold, with a golden laurel crown and an earring. Gold, gold, gold! She despised its gleam, for in it, she saw him.

Huddled against the wall, she stood frozen, afraid to move. The emperor did seem different this time—melancholic and contemplative. His pale eyes were unusually clear and sober as they met hers.

"What did you tell your husband?" His voice was different too: calm, measured. That made it all the more terrifying. Cassandra couldn’t read his mood from his face.

"Nothing, Caesar," she whispered, afraid to speak louder, as if his calm depended on it.

Caracalla turned to the altar, studying it as if seeing it for the first time. She held her breath, watching the golden laurel shimmer in the torchlight.

"Come closer."

His tone was pensive, his light brows furrowed, his lips pressed into a thin line. The moment she stepped closer, the emperor’s gaze shifted to her. It slid from her neck, lower, along the colorful tunic she wore.

"My mother used to wear this," he said. To her surprise, his right hand was bare of rings as he brushed the fabric over her chest lightly, almost tenderly. His eyes stayed locked on hers.

Though still afraid, it felt different from yesterday. Worse.

Why had he forced her to come here? Why had he dressed her in the clothes of his dead mother? Cassandra cast a desperate glance at the door, but he noticed immediately. The corner of his mouth twitched.

"She often came here," he continued, "prayed to the gods," his words were vague, her thoughts growing heavier, "do you pray often?"

"Yes, Emperor," she replied, though her mind was growing heavier, duller, as though lulled into a haze that numbed her fear.

"When was the last time?"

The conversation was bizarre, so unlike what had happened the night before. Feeling almost drunk, she answered without thinking, and that's when everything started to spiral.

"Today, when that arrow almost hit you," she said, breathing heavily, it was hot, like under the midday sun, "I prayed for the next one to hit."

Her tormented mind knew he would kill her now. That Caracalla would carry out his threats, destroy her and her family. But instead, he laughed.

Grinning, he patted her shoulder as if she’d told an excellent joke. Then the sharp pain of his hand striking her cheek brought her back to reality. He had slapped her! Tears welled in her eyes, her lips trembling, but she didn’t have time to cry. The emperor grabbed her face, squeezing her jaw painfully.

"You did drink it, didn't you? That wine they brought you?" Caracalla whispered, his voice low as he leaned closer, still holding her face. "Oh, you did! I can see it. Your dilated pupils, that empty stare, struggling to think straight, hard to control your tongue? I get it," in a mock tender gesture, he caressed the cheek he'd just slapped, "for those words, your pretty head should be on a spike outside the palace, shouldn't it? But you know the rules, if you apologize properly, I forgive."

With his thumb, he drew circles on her reddened cheek, moved to her lips, tracing their outline, forcing her to open her mouth by pressing down.

"You understand now, don’t you? The aphrodisiac in the wine you drank," he pushed his finger inside, making her lips encircle it, "I wanted to play differently, but..." his face twisted with anger, "everything went terribly wrong."

Her already rapid heartbeat quickened further, she whimpered helplessly, wanting to cry. He had made her take the drug and was now exploiting her helplessness, shamelessly tormenting her mouth.

"You should say thank you, shouldn’t you? Or did you enjoy last night more? Shall I call my brother?" he chuckled, once again reverting to his usual self.

Caracalla released her face but immediately pinned her against the altar, tilting his head up and gazing at her from beneath his lowered lashes, as if admiring her, smiling.

The torchlight reflected in his eyes, his tongue flicked between his red lips in anticipation. His hand caressed her shoulder, then he removed the pin holding the fabric.

"Did the old senator fail to notice that his dear little wife isn't really his anymore?" he sneered, his fingers trailing down to the mark he'd bitten into her skin the night before, pressing down, aiming to cause as much discomfort as possible. Caracalla's breath grew heavier, his eyes followed every flicker of emotion on her face, every slight movement she made.

"I told him it was his fault... that he drank too much..." The confession fell from her lips without thought, her mind too clouded to hold it back.

"Ah! How unfortunate, and once again, the Senate takes credit for the emperor's work! But you'll comfort me, won't you?" His lips were so close, she felt his hot, uneven breath, saw his pupils, as black as hers, the smeared shadows making his eyes feverishly gleam with madness. Her gaze only darted down to his lips for a moment... and he pressed against her, pulling her into a kiss.

His hands seize her waist, gripping and tormenting, not just her body but her very soul. If she could cry, she would, but there's no energy left, only his greedy, hot mouth. To her, a kiss was something far more intimate, far more sacred than carnal union, promising tenderness and love...And even that he steals from her, kissing her shamelessly, wetly, pressing so hard she feels his hardness against her thigh.

"Let's continue our lovely conversation," he pulls back, his mouth trailing down to her neck, kissing and biting, "tell me, did Tiberius ever get you this wet?" His hand slides between her legs, rubbing through the fabric. "Even once?"

"No," she whimpers, trying to close her legs.

"Keep acting innocent, and I'll call the Praetorians to keep your legs spread wide, is that what you want?" his rough whisper burns her ear, his earring brushing her lips.

Cassandra shook her head, public humiliation was something she couldn't handle.

"Good. Obedient and well-behaved, just as a respectable matron should be," he purrs, his hand lazily caressing, more relishing her embarrassment than her body, "if you want, you can call me your husband!"

His sharp laugh slices through the narrow room.

"Undress," he commanded, his laughter gone, "I'm not going to fuck you in my mother's clothes, am I?"

She thought after all the pain, the threats, the violence, he couldn't hurt her more, but each time, it still cuts deep. With trembling hands, she hurriedly sheds her tunic, then her undergarments, laying them out as treasures, while he watches. His gaze is fixed, nostrils flaring, Cassandra sees him stroking himself under his tunic. Her cheeks burn, her clouded mind finally grasps it - he's going to take her right here, in this holy place, before ancestors and gods. Her soul will be damned, even in death!

"Touch yourself, feel how wet you are," his voice is husky, breathless, "you should be grateful to me for that, shouldn't you? That's what I've been talking about."

Head bowed, she slides her fingers between her legs, horror dawning as she realizes he's right. But why? The drug? The notion that he aroused her with his aggressive kisses, his sharp bites, his lewd whispers, she dismisses in disgust. She didn't want him, she hated him!

Seeing her shock, Caracalla broke into a smile, fully aware of her thoughts. Abandoning his arousal, the emperor circled her nipple with his thumb, watching it harden under his touch.

"It's not surprising your husband doesn't stir your passions, look at yourself," his hand traces down her body, over her breasts, stomach, to her mound, pausing again between her legs, "you're more his daughter than his wife!"

His fingers gather her moisture, rubbing, making her despise her body's response.

"So, will you take your emperor?" he asks, not for permission but to keep the game going.

She can only nod, there's no other choice.

"Say it out loud," Caracalla whispers raggedly, pushing his fingers deep inside her. Now she understands why he took off his rings.

"Yes, Caesar, I'll take whatever you give me," with those words, the last vestiges of her pride are smashed, her genuine compassion and naivety destroyed.

He takes her with a sudden, harsh thrust, only to slow down to a lazy, almost indulgent rhythm. The air is stifling, hot; sweat drips down her thighs. The only sounds are the crackle of the torch, his ragged breathing, and the vulgar, wet slaps of skin meeting skin.

As if to disgrace her further, he grips the back of her neck, forcing her to look into his eyes as he picks up the pace again. Here he is—the protector and father of his people—bestowing his gifts. He's still clothed, no need to undress; the chain around his neck jingles with each movement, his crown slipping forward.

"Doesn’t this feel good, sweetling? Don’t you feel good?"

"Cassandra," she whispers, "my name is Cassandra."

He stops, looking at her with surprise, as if seeing her for the first time.

"Is it really that important for me to know your name, Cassandra?" he teases, playfully biting her earlobe. "Has the little wife fallen in love?"

How could he think that? Anger surges within her. Her attempt to claim some dignity crumbles! But her thoughts vanish as he thrusts into her sharply, fully, making her gasp and dig her nails into his shoulders. It’s the first time she’s touched him willingly. Her simple gesture spurred him on even more, forcing a quiet whimper from her as she buried her face in his shoulder.

"Next time your senator fucks you, think of me, little bird, understand?" his whisper turns into a moan. She's mesmerized by his parted red lips, his light lashes fluttering, his chest heaving. A few rough thrusts later, his grip on her waist loosens, and his seed floods within her.

He lets her go, adjusting his clothes, his breathing still heavy, but his gaze has changed. Having gotten what he wanted, Caracalla loses interest.

"If you're lucky, my seed will take root, and you'll give your husband an heir!" he chuckles, playfully flicking her nose as if she were a pet. "The wench will help you dress, don't forget, there’s a feast to attend!"

Caracalla leaves her, trembling, bare, and shattered. Tears finally come, and without strength, she slides down the wall, hugging herself. The worst is the sticky feeling between her thighs he left behind. If she were to conceive...

"Domina, you shouldn't sit like this, please stand, I'll help you," the slave girl who brought her here shows no emotion, no trace of sympathy in her eyes.

"Leave me!"

"Staying here is not an option, one must respect the dead," the girl nods at the inscription on the altar.

"Lucius Septimius Severus"

He had defiled her beside his father's ashes! Now, she lets her sobs escape freely.

⋆ ⋆ ☼ ⋆ ⋆

Hey! Thank you so much for the sweet feedback on the last chapter, I didn’t expect so many people to like my work, I’m really grateful! 💋 I promise the next chapter will be up faster (but it also depends on how this one does, your feedback means a lot to me and really inspires me).

[moonchildxoxx]

Hi! I just saw your post and I was wondering if I could have a Tsu'tey with a human mate who is insecure and jealous of the Na'vi women that still like her mate becomes she smaller and in their words ugly and she can't have children but Tsu'tey comforts her but she's still sad because she wants kids she then finds out she's pregnant and you can end how you want.

Thank you if you do this one.

Are we a moment, or a lifetime?

A/N I’m so sorry it took over a year to get to you , I will eventually add in everything else just wanted to get it out, oh and there will be a part two

Pairing: Tsu’teyx Fem!Human! Reader,

Word count:2.986k

Synopsis:

[ Request are open]

Master List

Rules

[Previous] // [Next]

When Tsu’tey returned home he saw that she was no longer dressed in her Na'vi Clothing but back in her human ones. "What is wrong?" He asks softly as she was tucked up in a corner of their marui. "Nothing I was just cold" He nods sitting himself on the bed "Then come here"

He says softly gesturing her into his lap

She rolls herself over and crawls into his lap nuzzling Into him as he wraps his arms around her. "Better?" She nodded. He rubbed her back slowly "You know you can tell me when you're upset don't you?". “ I'm fine Tsu'tey I was just cold" "Then why the change of clothes, we have blankets ?" He asks gently, his hands still rubbing her back “ Because being half naked like her guys isn't exactly practical" she bit out. He chuckles softly "It is to us, you have nothing you need to be ashamed of". "I'm not ashamed " she responded "Then why hide yourself?" He asks curiously, tilting her chin up so he can look at her face. “ I'm not! I was simply cold". "You could have come to me" He murmurs his fingers tracing her jaw. She gently pushed his fingers away, He pauses slightly confused "Do you not want my touch?" He slowly moves his fingers to her waist now keeping his eyes trained on her face for a reaction. She was not looking up at him but rather her hands in her lap. His fingers gently grasp her chin again tilting her head up so she could have to meet his gaze. His eyes searching hers for an answer. When she still didn’t say anything he gently ran a thumb along the underside of her chin, his face coming even closer to hers "Tell me what's wrong" He murmurs his voice now a tad huskier as his lips lightly brush the corner of her mouth.

"It's nothing," she whispered. He groans, his nostrils flaring slightly. "Don't give me that. I know when there's something on your mind " He murmurs now lightly nipping her neck with his fangs "Talk to me" He murmurs his lips trailing over her skin towards her collarbone "why? I'm small, I'm this pink squishy thing.... I can't give You anything like others can ". "You are not a 'thing' and You need to get it out of your head that you are "less than" the other women here. You are so much more" His hands slowly run down her thighs and he pulls her so she’s straddling his lap. He leans in and lightly nips her earlobe "And you give me so much. You are everything I could ever want" He takes her wrists and places her palms on his chest. "Feel that heartbeat?" He murmurs his breath ghosting over her face

"That's Yours, it's been yours ever since I first laid eyes on you" His hand comes to her hip pulling her closer to him so her body is flush against his.

His other hand now rests in the middle of her back "I couldn't ask for anyone more perfect.

You are everything that I want" He murmurs nipping at her lips but not quite kissing her yet. “ We can’t bond we can’t have a family “ she stressed

He goes quiet for a moment and pulls away slightly to look at her face "Is... that what this is about?". “ I can't give You that either Tsu'tey human and Navi can't possibly reproduce together”. He gently cupped her face with his hands, his thumbs gently stroking her cheeks

"Of course I would love to have a family with You but I'm not with You to provide me with children.

You are my mate, my partner, my love. Nothing else matters to me" He bends down slightly and lightly brushes his lips against hers "The Great Mother has given me the greatest gift in you, I would be the stupidest man to let You go over something so trivial" He give her a soft kiss this time. "Please don't ever think there's even a remote possibility of You not being enough".

She kissed him back. He moans softly and pulls her closer to him, his lips hungrily coveringhers. His hands slipping under her top wanting to feel the bare skin against his palms

He kissed her deeply, a possessive nature taking over him now. He pulled her top off in one fluid motion and his lips quickly descended onto her neck leaving bites and kisses as he started to travel down her throat. He makes his way to the tops of her breasts and stops leaving a trail of kisses in his wake. His fingers tracing circles against her back as he looked up at her eyes burning like amber. "You are mine" He murmurs possessively against her skin his fingers digging into her back as he kissed her stomach

He pulled her tight against him and quickly rolls her onto her back so he was now straddling her his legs pinning her body underneath him

He looks down at her, his eyes now darker in color, all signs of his usual composed and calm demeanor gone. He was now looking at her with desire and need as his fingers slowly began tracing the curves of her body.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~<^>~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It began with morning sickness Which slowly turned in to being sick throughout the day

He notices this one morning as she an away after breakfast trying to avoid being sick in front of the others He immediately followed her out of the tent, pulling her into his arms as she nelt hunched over trying to keep from being sick. He didn't quite get human physiology, but he could tell she was not well. "What is wrong?"

He asks softly as she’s tucked up and trying not to vomit "Nothing... it's probably just a flu, a few of the science guys had it I probably just got it from them" He hums doubtfully and comes over, sitting beside her. He gently pulled her against his chest and his hand slowly moved up and down her back. "You have been unwell for a long time. That flu seems to linger." His brow furrows slightly with concern. He gently moved her so she’s sitting with her stomach on his lap, and his fingers start to slowly massage her shoulders

She rested against him. He continued to rub her back and his other arm held her against him, his chin gently resting on top of her head. He continues to rumble low and softly, the vibration traveling through her body

Every inch of him was warm to the touch and he continued to gently move his fingers across her back, slowly getting rid of the tension she felt. His chest rose and fell against herback, a steady and grounding rhythm as his rumbling lulled her closer towards sleep

She fell asleep

He stopped when she fell asleep, still keeping her tucked against his chest. One of his hands lightly ran over her face, tracing the contour of her cheek and across her forehead. He watched her sleep for a little bit, listening to her breathing, listening to her heartbeat

*Weeks later * she had spent the last 5 weeks feeling the same symptoms, always nauseous, always struggling to have an appetite...

Tsu'tey had done the best he could to help her , from rubbing her back, helping her avoid things her could not stand the smell of, holding her at night and simply trying to make her feel better

He was getting worried however, he was worried about why the sickness was lasting so long

He wasn't an idiot, he had a good guess on what it was but didn't want to say it outloud in case if he was completely wrong and he ended up upsetting her

He found her standing in the lab, looking at some samples and she looked pale and unwell. He came behind her , his arms instantly wrapping around her waist and pulling her body against his. He leaned down so his face was by herear, his breath warm against herskin

"You look pale again"

He murmurs, his hands rubbing across her stomach, almost automatically

His rumbling starts up again, the soft vibration making its way through her body as he held er to him. One of his hands slid slightly lower, moving in small, repetitive circles just under her belly button She grumbled " stop that You make me sleepy"

He laughs quietly and tightens his arms around her , pulling her even closer. His head tilted, chin hooking over hershoulder, and his rumbling turned into a low teasing growl

"That is the point. You need to rest more."

He gently turned her around so she was facing him, their bodies pressed together and he studied her face, the way her eyes looked dull and slightly sunken. His hands moved gently up and down, rubbing her hips

"My love... you are still feeling unwell...?"

He tilted her head up, cupping her chin and studying her face, noticing the darker bags under her eyes and the paleness of her skin.

She'd never really looked like this before, aside from when she was sick

His brow furrowed slightly, his thumbs stroked across her cheeks as his frown deepened. He was worried about her . The sickness has been going on for nearly two months, and with each week it seemed like she was only getting worse

He let out a small huff and slowly pulled her against him, enveloping her in a gentle hug. He could feel how tired she was, how thin her felt compared to usual. His hand moved across herback, rubbing in comforting circles as he simply held her to him

He let out a low, worried him as he felt how tiny she was against him. He leaned down so his face was buried against her shoulder and neck, her scent surrounding him

There was definitely something wrong. Humans got sick, she had told him that before, but the fact it was going on for so long and her hadn't managed to get better was worrying him

He pulled her body against him even tighter, as if he could envelope her in himself. He was trying so hard to think of what this could be, why she was feeling like this. As a large, warm hand moved across her belly again, he paused in thought. He didn't like the thought of what was on his mind, but it was the most likely reason for this

His hand moved in slow, smooth circles across her stomach , as if he was just rubbing her comfortingly. In reality, his hand was searching for something, anything that would confirm his suspicions He pushed and squeezed lightly, his touch gentle and careful as he searched for any changes. He felt it, a small bump that he was sure was not there a few months ago.

His heart was in his throat as he gently pushed his fingers against the small bump, feeling it through her clothes This couldn't be humans and Na'vi couldn't reproduce together the scientist had been absolutely insistent about that

Everything in his mind was saying that, screaming that what he felt wasn't possible. Humans and Navi couldn't, they were completely different species But that bump was there, he couldn't dismiss it as nothing. It was small, tiny really and could be mistaken for gaining a small amount of weight

He'd take this to the Tsahik; he wouldn't trust the other humans. He was not going to tell the scientists. They would do too many tests and ask too many questions and he didn't want her to get poked and prodded He pulled back to look at her face, his brow creased in worried lines as his hands cupped her cheeks

"Come with me. I need to speak to Mo'at"

“ I uh what Tsu'tey I'm in the middle of something " He shakes his head, gently tugging her away from what she was working on

"No, it can wait. This is more important"

He guides her gently out of the lab and starts to lead her through the trees towards Mo'at's dwelling

He is silent as he walks, keeping his hand on her back or gently guiding her over roots and rocks.

His mind is racing, thinking about the small bump on her belly , trying to figure out what it could be

He looks down at her , keeping her close against his side. The way she stumbled and swayed, as if she was tired or dizzy, worried him. After about 15 minutes, the shelter of Mo'at's dwelling comes into view. Tsu'tey guides her inside, the interior dark and cool compared to the heat of the day outside. “Tsu'tey seriously what on earth has gotten into You "

He ignores the question and keeps his hand on her back , guiding her towards Moat. She was sitting by the side of the room, grinding herbs or some sort of medicine

"Mo'at, I need to ask You something"

Mo'at glanced up from her work, giving Tsu'tey her full attention

"What is it?" She asks, her voice as sharp and strong as usual

He swallows, knowing this was going to sound ridiculous and crazy and Mo'at was going to think he was an idiot "I- I want You to look at my mate. I don't think humans and Na'vi can cross breed properly but I think... I think she might be with child"

Mo'tak's eyes widened as she took in his words. For the first time in Tsu'tey's life, he saw surprise on the older woman's face.

Her gaze flickered over to her , searching her face and body for a moment before standing, crossing the room towards her

She looked her up and down again, her old eyes slowly scanning her body, searching for something. She reaches out and pushes at her stomach with her fingers before looking back up at Tsu'tey

"Lift your shirt for me" She says, her voice leaving no room for arguing Her blunt command made her eyes widen, but Tsu'tey gave her a reassuring look as he lifted up the hem of her shirt, exposing her stomach to Mo'at

Mo'at's eyes flickered across herstomach, her hands gently

pressing against her skin. She can make out the small bump he felt, and she felt it herself, her expression unreadable as she presses her hand against it

She steps back, motioning for her to pull her shirt back down, her brow furrowed in thought

"You two, sit down"

She orders, her commanding tone leaving no room for argument

Tsu'tey instantly sits, pulling her down onto his lap so she's cradled against his chest, one of his arms around her waist . His chin rests on top of her head and he looks up at Mo'at, who looks rather deep in thought

Mo'at is silent for a few moments, her eyes trained on her and Tsu'tey. The only sounds are those of the shelter, the insects and animals outside.

Finally, she speaks

"How long have you felt sick, child?"

“A few weeks but i've had the flu it was going around I wouldn't be surprised if I got it again since I work in such close proximity to others "

Mo'at shakes her head, the older woman not buying the excuse

"No, I do not think so. You’re are pregnant"

That blunt statement makes both her and Tsu'tey freeze. her eyes widen, and his arms tighten around her reflexively, his breath suddenly caught in his chest

“That's not possible we can't reproduce the only way to even get a Navi human hybrid life the avatars is creating one in a lab " she spoke out all in the spand of one breath.

Mo'at just studies her face for a moment, tilting her head slightly as if to ask "are You sure?"

"I'm sure human medical science knows a lot, but maybe they don't know everything. It is clearly possible, because I can see it"

"Even if it was possible it couldn't be viable for long term the size of a Na'vi baby is to large... the body couldn't even sustain it if it could handle the size it couldn't provide enough energy for both mother and baby"

"I did not say it would be easy" Mo'at replies quietly, her eyes flickering across her stomach

"There will be complications, and it will be painful. But I sense it is already well along, so it can only continue."

Tsu'tey had mostly stayed silent, staying in shock as he listened to Mo'at explain. He tightened his arms around her , pressing his long chin into the crown of her head

"How long... How long do you think..?"

He asks, his voice hoarse and quiet. He was still in shock. This had to be impossible. Everyone had said it was impossible and yet here her were, somehow pregnant with his child

Mo'at is silent for a few moments, studying her face . She can feel the tension from both her and Tsu'tey, and her own heart ached slightly for the pair . This was both a miracle and a curse

"I would say two months. Maybe three"

Tsu'tey can't speak, he just swallows. Two months, three if she's being generous. That meant that he would be a father in roughly 5 or 6 months, if he was lucky.

His hands gently shift from her back to her stomach, his thumbs unconsciously stroking the skin. He could feel the slight bump now, more prominent than before

" Tsu'tey....." she trailed off unsure of what to say

*That he shouldn't get his hopes up or that this was extremely unlikely to have a positive outcome "It'll be fine..."

Tsu'tey assured her , although his own voice doesn't sound like he fully believes it. He tries to push the thoughts of complications out of his mind as he keeps stroking gentle patterns into her stom\\\ach.

© Moonchildxoxx 2023 | all rights reserved. do not republish, repost, steal, modify, translate or claim my work as your own.

\\\\\

[tinylilacbun]

Okay, so I had a silly thought. And no pressure to do it, I don’t even know if you’re taking requests lol. But if you are what about sister or daughter reader who wakes Rafe up in the middle of the night because she peed in her dream? I feel like he would be so upset, but then as soon as he saw the tears in her eyes he tells her that it’s okay and that he’s not mad and it’s not her fault and just like reassuring her and stuff like that, and then gives her a bath and gets her all cleaned up, then let’s her sleep in the bed with him?

Rafe groans tiredly when he feels something poke his cheek repeatedly, clumsily using his hand to wipe away what bothers him from his peaceful slumber only to hear a familiar whine.

"Daddy..." You whimper, reaching up to open his eyelids with your fingers gently. "Daddy, up."

He grunts, finally catching your wrist in his hand and pulling it away from his face as he cracks an eye open, glancing at the alarm clock on his nightstand.

3:27am. Fucking hell.

"Why are you up, kid?" He rasps, pinching the bridge of his nose as he starts to wake up some more.

You frown, shuffling on your feet nervously as you're embarrassed to tell him why you woke him up in the first place. "I-I hads ta go potty..."

"And?" He looks back at you, lifting an eyebrow in confusion.

"Mmm...I-I dids in bed." You mumble, now feeling ashamed of yourself. "M'sowwy-"

"Goddamnit- not again." He groans, throwing his head back against the pillow, regretting that he caved in when you begged him to go sleep without a nappy because you're 'a big girl now!'.

He should have listened to the doubt in his head but he just wanted to get you to bed finally and it seemed like the fastest way to just give in.

You feel even worse now, the tears falling before you can stop them and a sob forcing its way out. "I s-sowwy, daddy."

At the sounds of your sobs Rafe finally sits up in his bed with a sigh, throwing his legs over the edge as he turns on the lamp on his nightstand to see you better, his heart aching at the sight of your distraught state and the way you make grabby hands for him.

"It's- it's okay, c'mon, let's get you cleaned up, yeah?" He says softly, cupping your face he leans down to press a kiss to the top of your head before he stands up, grabbing your little hand in his and leading you to his bathroom.

He quickly gets the bath set, getting you out of your soiled pajamas before lifting you into the tub, handing you one of your ducks and leaves you alone for a moment to get fresh set of clothes for you, not bothering to change your bedsheets as he'll deal with that tomorrow.

When he come back he sighs at the way you still have your head bowed in shame. "Hey..." He kneels back down beside the bathtub, placing a finger under your chin so you meet his gaze. "I'm not mad at you, not at all. I'm really proud of you for coming to me. You're still my big girl."

You sniffle a little. "Weally?"

"Yeah, you are, I swear." He smiles at you and it makes one finally form on your face as well, feeling him wipe the few tears away that cling to your skin.

After you're all clean and dressed in a pajama again together with a nappy Rafe picks you up, cradling you against as he makes his way towards his bed, your plushie already waiting for you as well as a spare pacifier. "You can sleep in daddy's bed tonight."

You wriggle in his arms slightly with happiness, loving the rare nights where you get to cuddle with him all night and you even got him all to yourself because Sofia isn't here for the night like she usually is.

Rafe carefully throws you onto the bed, chuckling at the way you giggle and roll on the sheets to get comfortable in the middle, sliding in beside you and making sure you're tucked in after you snuggle against his chest, kissing your forehead. "G'night, sweetheart."

"Nigh nigh, daddy...luv you." You mumble into his shirt, grabbing onto it with your hands and let him slip your pacifier in your mouth.

"I love you more..."

[brookediamonds]

can you make an axel + miyagi-do reader where after the tournament he quits the iron dragons and the miyagi-do reader suggests for him to join miyagi-do since he just wants to be in a dojo where he doesn’t get pushed around by sensei wolf? he’s reluctant to, but he joins for her and he could have a hard time adjusting because he feels guilty for breaking robby’s knee and maybe he believes he doesn’t fit in with the others? after the training, maybe the following night he’s frustrated and the reader notices it and he just pours out his feelings to her then the reader could comfort him about it. if it’s realistic to you, maybe as the days go on he ends up adjusting and enjoying his time there, making up with robby for injuring his knee and befriending everyone else basically! sorry if the request is too long! 😭

i was raised on little light | Axel Kovačević x Fem! Reader

Summary: Axel thinks he's lost everything, his dojo, his sensei, his friends. It's been one month since the Sekai Taikai, and he's lost without the sport he loves. But what happens when you two cross paths by chance and you give him the opportunity to find that happiness again?

Word Count: 3.4k Warnings: None, angst, fluff

gif is not mine

You wipe the sweat off your brow as you make your way out of the gym sauna, and take a sip out of your water flask to rehydrate.

Trailing down the hallway, your eyes drift along the glass windows as you pass by the ongoing cycling and pilates classes.

Entering the kick boxing studio, you expect it to be empty when a tall boy with long brown-red hair stood next to the punching bag, striking it repeatedly with familiar combinations.

When he turns to see who's entered the room, your eyes went wide as you recognize those blue orbs.

"I'm sorry," you apologize immediately. "No one usually comes in here."

"It's okay," he responds curtly dropping his hands by his side. "I was just getting ready to leave."

You watch as he picks his shirt up from the side of the room, sliding it back on.

"What are you doing here?" You ask taking a few steps closer to him.

He gives a sideways glance as he picks up his gym bag from the floor.

"I mean, your team is from Hong Kong, I thought you'd-"

"I left them," he cuts you off. He isn't rude, but he states it heavily and lowly. "I was ashamed to be apart of anything that had to do with... my sensei."

You raise your eyebrows stunned someone like him and his age could just walk away from something they've known their whole life. You can see the sadness behind his eyes, and the way he carries himself.

There's a moment of brief silence when he speaks up again.

"I'm sorry for what I did to Robby."

His voice is steady, but you don’t miss the way his fingers tighten around the strap of his bag, like he's bracing for impact.

You exhale softly, crossing your arms. "It’s not me you should be saying that to."

Axel nods, almost like he already knew you’d say that. His gaze drops briefly, then lifts back to yours. "I know."

Shifting his weight, adjusting the strap of his gym bag. He gives you one last glance before stepping forward, his intention clear that he’s leaving.

You watch him move past you, something uneasy settling in your chest. Maybe it’s the exhaustion from training, or maybe it’s the look in his eyes, the kind that lingers even after someone walks away.

Before you can stop yourself, you turn around.

"What are you doing right now?"

Axel halts mid-step, glancing back at you. There’s a flicker of hesitation before he shrugs, voice unreadable. "Nothing."

You chew on your lip for a second before nodding toward the empty mat.

"Do you wanna stay? Run through some techniques I picked up last week?"

His brows lift slightly, as if he wasn’t expecting that. He looks at you for a long moment, scanning your face like he’s trying to figure out if you really mean it.

If you actually want him here.

Then, after a beat, he exhales and sets his bag back down.

"Sure," he says, rolling his shoulders. "I'd like that."

---------------------------------------------------------

It's been two weeks since you came across Axel at the gym. You learn that the day after the Sekai Taikai was his 18th birthday so he decided to stay and live in The Valley.

He wanted to leave Europe and move on from his past completely. You also learn he's not as tough as he puts on, he's actually quite sensitive and sadly, has never really had a life outside of karate.

Which is why you brought him here.

"Just try it," you beg the tall, brooding boy sitting across from you, pushing the milkshake closer to him.

Axel stares at you, unimpressed, arms crossed over his chest like he’s preparing for battle.

"You’re asking me to dip a french fry into a milkshake. It's gross."

You roll your eyes.

"It's not gross, it's delicious," you state, picking up a fry, and dunking it into the thick vanilla milkshake, taking a dramatic bite. "See? Sweet and salty. Perfection."

Axel watches with obvious skepticism, but there’s a flicker of curiosity beneath it.

Slowly, he grabs a fry, hesitates, then dips just the very tip into the milkshake like it might explode on contact.

He eyes it one last time before taking a bite. You wait giddily, watching as he chews and pauses.

His brows lift just slightly, a flash of something that looks suspiciously like enjoyment crossing his face before he schools it into something neutral.

"It’s... not bad."

A victorious grin spreads across your face. "You see, I told you!"

"It’s weird, but good. I still think it should be gross, though," Axel huffs, shaking his head as he reaches for another fry, this time dipping it fully.

You laugh, watching as he tentatively starts to enjoy something so simple, something he never got to experience before.

And it makes you want to show him more, more of these little joys, more of the world outside of training and fighting.

Which is why, after a moment, you set your milkshake down and glance at him seriously.

"Have you thought about coming to Miyagi-Do?"

Axel looks up, mid-fry, caught off guard. "What?"

You shrug. "I mean, you love karate, and you don’t have a dojo anymore. You miss it, I can tell."

His jaw tightens slightly, like he’s bracing himself.

"I don’t think your sensei's would want me there," he says quietly.

"You don’t know that," you counter gently. "And besides... you’re not the same person you were at the Sekai Taikai."

He looks at you, searching for something in your expression, like he wants to believe you but doesn’t know if he can.

"You don’t have to decide now," you add, nudging the milkshake toward him. "Just think about it."

Axel exhales, gaze dropping to the table. And for a while, the only sound is the hum of the diner, the soft clinking of forks and plates around you.

Then, almost absentmindedly, he dips another fry into the milkshake.

---------------------------------------------------------

Axel sits across from Daniel and Johnny, his hands clasped together between his knees, posture tense but unwavering. You sit beside him, offering quiet support.

"You left your dojo," Daniel repeats, studying Axel carefully. "For good?"

Axel nods.

"I didn’t want to win that way. Not anymore." He swallows. "I thought I loved karate because it made me strong. But I was only as strong as my sensei allowed me to be. And he—" Axel exhales sharply, shaking his head. "He took everything from us. He controlled us. I don’t want to fight like that ever again."

Daniel leans back slightly, exchanging a glance with Johnny. His expression is thoughtful, considering.

"It takes courage to admit that," Mr. LaRusso finally says. "To walk away from everything you’ve known just because you believe in something better."

Johnny, however, crosses his arms, his face unreadable.

"Yeah, but believing in something better and being better aren’t the same thing." His voice is gruff, skeptical. "How do we know he’s not just gonna revert back the second things get tough?"

Axel clenches his jaw but doesn’t retaliate. He just looks down at his hands, something flickering in his eyes, something vulnerable.

You shift in your seat, about to say something, but Daniel beats you to it.

"What do you think, Johnny?" he asks, watching his old rival closely.

Johnny lets out a breath, rubbing his jaw. He looks at Axel again, really looks at him. And maybe, just for a second, he sees a reflection of himself.

Because Axel did what he couldn’t do when he was younger.

He walked away.

He was strong enough to leave, when Johnny had been too blind, too stubborn, too scared to.

With a sigh, Johnny leans back, arms still crossed but his stance looser.

"You did what I couldn't," he mutters. Then, more firmly: "You’re in."

Axel blinks, his lips parting slightly in surprise, but he only nods. "Thank you."

Daniel claps a hand on his shoulder. "Welcome to Miyagi-Do."

You grin at Axel, nudging his arm. He huffs softly, shaking his head, but there’s the tiniest pull of a smile at the corner of his lips.

After giving Axel his new white gi, and explaining some of Mr. Miyagi's back history, you two eventually make your way out of the small house.

As soon as the three of you step outside, the energy in the air changes.

The rest of the students are arriving for training, but when they see Axel, everything halts.

Miguel stops mid-step. Tory crosses her arms, her jaw set tight. Hawk looks between Axel and Daniel, suspicion clear in his expression.

Robby stands a little further back, his gaze unreadable, but the way his shoulders tense doesn’t go unnoticed.

"The hell is he doing here?" Hawk demands, eyes narrowing.

"He doesn’t belong here," Tory adds sharply.

Miguel looks at you, confused. "Seriously?"

Axel stays quiet. He doesn’t shrink under the heat of their stares, but he doesn’t fight back either.

He’s letting them have their moment, because he knows he would’ve reacted the same way.

But you step forward cutting everyone off from their bickering.

"Why shouldn’t he be here?" You challenge, looking each of them in the eye. "He left his dojo because he wants to change. Just like most of you did when you left Cobra Kai."

Silence. A flicker of hesitation in some of their eyes.

"No one holds you to your past," you continue, voice unwavering. "Each and every one of you have done something so despicable and yet no holds it against you. So why should he be any different?"

The weight of your words settles over them.

Miguel shifts uncomfortably. Hawk looks at the ground. Even Tory exhales through her nose, her arms loosening slightly from their defensive cross.

Robby is the last one to react. He holds Axel’s gaze for a long moment.

There’s still something guarded in his expression, understandably so, but after a pause, he nods once. Just enough to acknowledge him.

And just like that, the tension in the air starts to thin.

Axel exhales slowly, finally looking over at you. And for the first time, he really feels like he might have a shot at this.

---------------------------------------------------------

"Damn dude!" Hawk shouts as Axel scores a point by performing a roundhouse to his face. The boy with the blue mohawk holds the side of his face, clutching his jaw.

"S-Sorry!" Axel blurts out, immediately taking a step forward, his expression tight with concern.

Hawk exhales sharply, rolling out his jaw. "It’s just a spar, man. Not a tournament."

"Axel, you don’t have to go full power every time," Miguel spoke up, stepping forward with his arms crossed. "We’re teammates, not opponents."

Axel’s hands clench at his sides. "I wasn’t trying to—" He stops himself, jaw tightening.

"Breathe, man," Demetri chimes in from the sidelines. "You’re, like, radiating 'fight or flight' right now."

Axel’s nostrils flare as he looks around at the others, all of them watching him with wary expressions.

Even sensei LaRusso and sensei Lawerence have taken notice from across the dojo, their conversation pausing as they exchange a glance.

Axel can feel the anxiety creeping up, he's beginning to feel cornered as he feels everyone's eyes on him. Like a caged animal.

Without another word, Axel steps off the mat and grabs his gym bag from the bench. The tension in the air is thick as he heads straight for the door.

Just as you and Sam are making your way up the gravel path, still catching your breath from your run.

Axel brushes right past you, his face thunderous.

Your smile falters. "Axel? What happened—"

"This was a mistake," he mutters, not even breaking stride as he storms toward the parking lot.

You whip around, watching him go, confusion twisting in your chest. "What the hell?"

Sam glances between you and the closing gate, eyebrows furrowed. "What was that about?"

Your eyes narrow, heat rising beneath your skin. Without another word, you march inside the dojo, zeroing in on Miguel and Hawk, who are still standing on the sparring deck.

"Nothing crazy. He just—" Hawk exhales, still rubbing his face. "He goes hard, you know?"

Miguel frowns. "We told him it was just a spar, but it’s like he doesn’t know how to hold back."

You glance toward the door, then back at them, frustrated.

"Of course, he doesn’t," you exasperate. "Do you have any idea how he was trained? He’s been fighting like his life depended on it for years! You think he can just turn that off?"

The backyard is quiet, the weight of your words settling over them. Even Hawk looks less irritated and more thoughtful.

"He's trying, guys," you sigh tiredly. "Maybe if you stopped treating him like the enemy for five seconds, you’d see that."

Hawk shifts, glancing at Miguel awkwardly.

"There is no such thing as bad student, only bad teacher," Sensei LaRusso speaks up from the side, his tone calm yet firm.

Everyone turns to him as he steps forward, his eyes settling on Miguel and Hawk.

"It's what Mr. Miyagi said to me once when I was having trouble with Sensei Lawrence, over here," he continues, nodding toward Johnny, who stands with his arms crossed, watching everything unfold.

"Axel walked away from a sensei who only taught him how to win, no matter the cost. That takes strength. And it takes even more strength to try and relearn everything from the ground up." He glances at you. "Some of you have been in his shoes before. Maybe it’s time you remember that."

Miguel and Hawk exchange looks, guilt settling over them like a weight.

But you don’t wait for their response. You turn on your heel and push through the door, already dialing Axel’s number.

---------------------------------------------------------

It's later that night when you find his apartment, knocking firmly against the door.

There’s a long pause before you hear slow, heavy footsteps, and then the door creaks open, revealing Axel standing there, his expression unreadable.

His hair is damp, fresh from a shower, and he’s dressed in a loose black T-shirt and sweatpants, his arms crossed, closed off.

"Can I come in?" you ask softly.

For a second, you think he might shut the door in your face, but instead, he steps aside without a word.

You enter, scanning the space. It was your first time here. It was minimal, nearly empty.

A couch, a small table, a few dishes in the sink. No decorations, no warmth. Just a place to exist, not to live.

Axel leans against the counter, gaze fixed on the floor.

"Miyagi-Do isn’t for me," he mutters finally. "I don’t belong there."

"That’s not true," you frown, taking a step closer to him.

"Yes, it is." His voice is low, but sharp with conviction. "They all hate me. They think I’m some asshole who just walked in and took up space. And maybe they’re right. I don’t fight like them. I never will."

You exhale, watching the way his shoulders rise and fall unevenly, the frustration and insecurity clawing at him.

"You’re exactly where you belong," you say, firm but gentle.

His head lifts slightly, blue eyes locking onto yours with something unreadable, something vulnerable. "Why do you care so much?"

Your breath catches for a moment.

"Because…" you step closer, heart hammering. "You’re not less than nothing, Axel."

His heart sinks in his chest as he thinks back to what his old sensei told him the day of the finals at the Sekai Taikai. "You will be less than nothing."

Your voice is steady and firm as you look him in the eyes. "You never were."

You watch as his fingers twitch, as if fighting the urge to reach for you.

And then, suddenly, he does.

Axel closes the space between you in one swift motion, his hands finding your face as he presses his lips to yours.

It’s not tentative or unsure, it’s raw, desperate, like he’s grasping onto the only real thing he’s ever had.

You melt into him, your hands gripping the fabric of his shirt, anchoring yourself to him just as he’s anchoring himself to you.

When he finally pulls away, he rests his forehead against yours, his breath uneven. His hands stay on your face like he’s afraid to let go.

"You deserve better, Axel," you whisper. "You deserve the good, life has to offer."

For once, he doesn’t argue. He lets you wrap him in your arms and hold him for the first time in his life.

---------------------------------------------------------

Axel decides to give Miyagi-Do one last try. But this time, it'll be different. He's going in optimistic and with a new plan.

As he steps inside the backyard, he gazes around the grass and wood before spotting the person he planned on talking to today.

Robby.

Setting his gym bag off to the side, Axel wipes his palms on the sides of his white gi, slowly approaching the green eyed boy.

"Hey," Axel says lowly. Robby does a double take when he see's the tall boy stood in front of him.

"What do you want?" Robby asks accusingly. It's not aggressive but it's not passive either.

Axel exhales through his nose and forces himself forward, stopping a few feet in front of Robby.

"I need to say something," Axel starts, his voice even but careful. "Back at the tournament ... what I did to you— it wasn’t just wrong, it was, it was unforgivable."

Robby crosses his arms, studying him, unreadable.

Axel takes a breath, pushing through. "I don’t expect you to forget it. I don’t even expect you to forgive me. But I was wrong. And I get it if you still hate me, but I just—"

He exhales sharply, running a hand through his hair. "I just needed you to know I’m not proud of it. And I don’t want to be that person anymore."

Silence stretches between them, heavy but not hostile. Robby takes a deep breath before speaking up.

"Look, man… I get it," Robby speaks up. "You did what your sensei told you. We all did messed up things when we were under the wrong leadership."

Axel's expression softens slightly, not expecting any kind of grace he was showing him.

"What matters is what you do now," Robby finishes.

Then, after a beat, Robby tilts his head, a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth.

"And" he says, arms still crossed, "I did get a sponsorship out of it, so… I guess we’re even."

Axel’s shoulders ease, the tension in his chest loosening just a bit as they both share a small laugh.

Robby gives him a nod toward the center of the mat. "Come on. Warm-ups just started."

Axel hesitates for only a second before nodding and stepping forward. Finally, he could start to feel the weight of the past start to lift.

You watched from afar as Robby forgave Axel and everyone around him began to let him in to the group one by one.

It was the beginning of something new for Axel. A kindest and happiness you knew he deserved.

---------------------------------------------------------

The warm glow of the apartment lights casts a soft ambiance over the space, a stark contrast to the bare, empty walls it once had.

Now, the shelves are filled with little pieces of life, plants you insisted would 'bring warmth' framed photos of scenic landscapes, and a few personal touches Axel hadn't realized he needed until they were there.

The scent of vanilla lingers in the air from a candle burning on the counter, mixing with the salty-sweet aroma of your late-night snack.

Sitting across from each other on the couch, you share a chocolate milkshake, the tall glass between you as you dip a fry into the drink before popping it into your mouth like you always do.

"You’re still making that face," you tease, nudging the glass toward him.

Axel huffs a soft laugh. "It's still weird."

"You liked it last time."

He narrows his eyes but relents, dipping a fry into the milkshake before taking a bite. The contrast of flavors hits, and while he won’t openly admit it, you can tell he kind of gets it now.

A quiet moment passes between you, the comfortable kind. Axel twirls the straw absently, gaze drifting over the space before settling on you.

"You know," he starts, voice softer now, more thoughtful, "I never really had this before."

You quirk a brow. "Chocolate milkshakes and fries?"

He can't help the small smirk tugging his lips.

"No," he shakes his head. "Someone like you.”

Your teasing expression fades, replaced by something warmer.

"Oh," you whisper feeling your cheeks warm up.

He leans forward, resting his arms on his knees, eyes locked with yours.

"You never gave up on me," he murmurs, his voice almost hesitant, like the words are too fragile to speak aloud. "Even when I pushed back, even when I didn’t think I belonged here… you didn’t stop."

You watch him for a beat before setting the glass down and shifting closer.

"I'd never give up on you," you say simply. "Not then, and not now."

His breath hitches slightly. He doesn't get the chance to say anything else before you reach behind his neck, pulling him down to kiss you.

The kiss is soft, and heartfelt, like he’s trying to say all the things he never learned how to.

When he pulls back, you smile against his lips, your fingers brushing over the nape of his neck.

"See?" you whisper. "Exactly where you belong."

And for the first time in a long time, Axel believes it.

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Masterlist

Taglist: @ggrgcribg

(a/n: i've been watching too much 'sex and the city' i feel like i sound like carrie but i kinda fw it lmfao. this was a sweet request, thank you for your patience on me getting it out!)