#i could talk about this forever but it's v long and i don't know everything. just some theories and observations | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

sceletaflores · 7 months ago

Text

"Dependence Is Weakness, Darling."

pairing: older!patrick zweig x fem!reader

summary: it wasn’t just the cigarettes or the lighters. it was the way you still find yourself thinking about him. patrick, with his tangled emotions and overwhelming presence, had left an inescapable mark on your life. and as much as you wished it, he wasn’t someone you could easily erase from yourself.

—or: it's been a little over twelve years since you've seen patrick zweig.

word count: 7.8k (hopefully this is long enough lol)

contains: 18+ SMUT MDNI, p in v, rough sex but in a loving way, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it y’all!), semi-public sex (fucking in a car, you know i had to...), angst, swearing, cigarette smoking as a love language, slight mommy issues lmao, hints of mean!reader cause i still live for that shit, love confessions, rain scene cause i'm corny as hell, porn with SOOOO much plot, no use of y/n.

author's note: this might me the filthiest thing i've ever written lols. i actually DID get a couple asks for some more angsty patrick fics and ofc i love writing angst i'm just a girl i live for that shit. look at me doing what was asked of me and not just whatever i wanted! i'm a giver, what can i say. this fic was revived because of a few anon's who demanded it and i'm so glad they did. you guys got me to give this a second chance and i'm so proud of how it turned out. extra special shout out to @bii-aan-ckaa who fiercely advocated and waited very patiently for this! i'm so obsessed with you and your beautiful kind words. hope you love it! mwah xoxo.

Fifteen minutes.

That’s how long you can stomach sitting in the sticky booth of the bar watching Patrick Zweig flirt with a woman you don't recognize across the dimly lit room. Fifteen measly minutes until you were giving your friends some lame excuse of needing fresh air and leaving the table to escape out into the alley.

It’s been a little over twelve years since you’ve seen Patrick. A little over twelve years since you turned your back on him with tears spilling down your cheeks and your favorite racket a mangled, smashed mess gripped tightly in your shaking hand as you walked out of his life forever.

Or at least what you thought was forever, you guess you were wrong.

To put it lightly, your relationship with Patrick was…complicated. You met him the summer before you started at Stanford. He was tall with green eyes and curly hair and he was kind of an asshole but he made you laugh, so you let him fuck you anyway. At the time, you thought that was it. One really good fuck with a really hot guy you’d never see again.

You thought you were hallucinating when you saw him on the campus courts two months later, when he sauntered up to you with an unmistakable “I know what you look like naked” smirk on his face. He was just as tall and had the same green eyes and the same curly hair and was an even bigger asshole than he was before. You still let him fuck you anyway.

You never thought you’d get sucked into the storm that was whatever the fuck was going on between Art, Patrick and Tashi. Never thought that it would completely ruin your self esteem, your tennis, your everything.

You weren’t particularly close to Art or Tashi in college. Sure, you were all in the same circle. That didn’t make you best friends. Art was nice enough, but he never went out of his way to talk to you. You and Tashi were on the same team but that didn’t mean anything. You respected the hell out of her and her game, and you could tell she felt the same. Even with that respect, there was still a tiny part of you that resented her.

She was number one, the pride and joy of Stanford, had a constant slew of brands and scouts up to her ears. It seemed like no matter how hard you worked that she would always be number one. It felt like you were always just inches behind her.

Clawing and scratching your way through the ranks since you were twelve to be second best was never the plan. Your mother made sure to remind you of that every chance she got.

Then slowly, she started beating you at more than just tennis. Patrick wanted her, it was more than obvious. At first you didn’t care, he wasn't your boyfriend. He was just a guy you fucked, he could do whatever he wanted. You were friends. There wasn’t a problem.

When you realized you knew more about Patrick than just how he worked dick, then there was a problem.

At first, all the things you knew about him were boiled down to the vulgar little tidbits you’d notice when he fucked you. You know that he has a birthmark on his lower back. You know when he’d be close because he’d always bite your shoulder before he came. You know his favorite position was really missionary even though he told everyone it was doggy.

Knowing all that was fine.

You also know that he’s allergic to kiwi. You know that he only holds his cigarettes with his thumb and his pointer finger. You’d always know when he was nervous because he’d start tapping his fingers on his thigh. You know that when he’d listen to music he loved, that his right hand would drum along to the beat just a little bit faster than his left would.

You knew all those things because you were falling in love with him, and Patrick Zweig is not someone you fall in love with. Especially not with Tashi Duncan in the picture.

You tried your best to push it down, to pretend you weren’t hurt every time Patrick chose Tashi over you. When he’d miss your games because he was with Tashi, when he’d blow you off to go meet Tashi, when he started to stop returning your calls or replying to your texts. All things you never cared about before started slowly eating at you. You felt awful most days, holed up in your room wallowing in self-pity. Your GPA was steadily dropping as the semester went on. Even your tennis started slipping, and you lost your winning streak to a fucking scrub. When you finally cracked and broke down to your mother over the phone one night she just scoffed.

“Well what did you think would happen when you started to depend on that boy? Dependence is weakness, darling.”

Dependence is weakness. You blocked Patrick’s number that same night.

It all came to a head when he blew up at you after Tashi’s injury. Everyone was pretty shaken up about it. You’d never forget the way it buckled, the way the sharp snap rang through the court, the way she fell to the ground screaming. You’d never seen her cry before.

Patrick found you later that night, all alone on the practice courts trying to burn the day out of your mind by serving balls till you collapsed. It was the first time he talked to you in weeks. He was pissed. Screaming at you, calling you every nasty thing he could think of, getting up in your face. It was a fucking mess. You both said some things that should have never been said, but it ended when Patrick accused you of somehow being the cause of all of it.

��You hate Tashi, fucking hate her. You wanted something like this to happen. I bet you’re just over the fucking moon that she’s finally out and you can take her place. You can finally be number one seed and you're fucking ecstatic, aren't you? You’re so fucking pathetic, so desperate for validation. Maybe if mommy paid attention to you for once, you wouldn’t be so fucking needy. You're just a sad, delusional fucking runner-up, grasping at whatever shreds of importance you think you still have.”

You stood there, stunned by his outburst, each word hitting you like a physical blow. It was insane, nothing but Patrick blowing things way out of proportion in the midst of his anger.

You wanted to scream, to deny it vehemently, but the hurt and frustration choked off your words. Tears welled up in your eyes, a mixture of anger and heartbreak swirling in you. Vision blurring out everything but Patrick's face twisted up with rage as he glared at you, his words lingering in the air like poison.

You told him about your mother because you thought you could trust him. You thought he was the only person that really understood you, his dad was a piece of shit too. Him using something so delicate as material to hit you where it hurts was the last straw.

You blew up, all the things you’d been keeping bottled up for months finally boiled over in you swinging your racket down on the green concrete over and over until there was nothing left of it to break. You didn’t even look at Patrick as you walked away. You never saw him again.

You’d love to say it was also the last time you thought about him, but that would be a lie. As much as he hurt you, and as much as you hated him for it, your mind refused to let you forget him.

You still smoke Camel Blues because that was your guys’ brand, even when you should have quit years ago anyway. You still buy the same color lighter, pink. You tell yourself it’s nothing more than an easy choice, that it’s a good color. It’s not at all because you can still hear Patrick’s teasing voice in the back of your head bitching, “I can’t believe you make me use a pink lighter.” when he always forgot his and had to borrow yours.

It’s not based on a compulsive need to be reminded of him every single time you use it. It’s just convenient, okay.

You know deep down that they were the only remnants of a past that you still couldn’t fully let go of. As much as you tried to bury those memories, they lingered, melded into the corners of your mind like stubborn stains.

It wasn’t just the cigarettes or the lighters. It was the way you still find yourself thinking about him. Patrick, with his tangled emotions and overwhelming presence, had left an inescapable mark on your life. And as much as you wished it, he wasn’t someone you could easily erase from yourself.

Even twelve years later you’re still trying to convince yourself that dependence is weakness, that you were better off without him. But sometimes, in the quiet moments like this when the smoke curls from your cigarette and the pink lighter flickers in your hand, you wonder if he ever thinks of you, if he regrets how things ended between the two of you.

Maybe it's not that you can't escape Patrick's grip on you after all these years, it's that you just won't.

You’re so lost in your own thoughts that you don't hear the heavy door to the bar swinging open, or the sound of gravel crunching underneath approaching footsteps.

“Holy shit,” a deep voice rings out from your right, “someone pinch me.”

Your whole body tenses, your cigarette freezing a few inches away from your lips. Something like fight or flight starts to quietly buzz beneath your skin. You’d recognize that voice anywhere, even despite the gruffer, more grown up tone that wasn’t there the last time you heard it.

Your heart’s already kicking into overdrive when you finally start to hesitantly turn your head, time almost slowing down as your eyes sweep over the alley. You kind of don’t want to believe that your luck is this shitty. That maybe it was all in your imagination, that you were thinking about him so much you were starting to hear things that weren’t really there, that he was still back in the bar feeling up that blonde girl. But it can never be that easy, and sure enough, there he is.

Patrick Zweig is standing a few feet away from you with both hands shoved in the pockets of his jeans and a wide, achingly familiar grin lighting up his face.

You’re quiet for a few long moments, completely shocked into silence. Your mind races with a million different things you want to say but can’t find the voice to. You should be causing a scene. You should be losing it, screaming, crying, throwing things, slapping him hard across his unfairly handsome face. But you don’t, too surprised to even move.

Patrick speaks again, taking several steps towards you. “It is really you, right?” he asks, eyes wide and mouth pulling into an easy, lopsided grin. To anyone else, the laid back, carefree tone he was going for would sound genuine. You can barely pick up on the stunned, almost breathless edge lacing his words, like he also can’t believe you’re standing right in front of him.

He steps into the light shining from a dingy lamp above the door, it basks around him in a yellow orange glow.

Same eyes, same ears, same Patrick.

For years you’ve thought about this exact moment, what you’d say if you ever saw him. You lose all of that practice the closer he gets. He’s less than a foot away from you now, an expectant look on his face. He’s waiting for you to say something.

You feel like running, like stubbing your cigarette on the pavement and making a break for the door. You already ran from him once, but old habits die hard.

You don’t run, you refuse to take the easy way out. You’re a grown woman, you’re stronger than you were in college, you’re going to the goddamn Olympics. It’s only Patrick for Christ’s sake.

“What are you doing here?” It sounds harsher than you meant, but that’s probably for the best. He doesn’t deserve kindness from you.

“Tennis.” Is all he says, fishing out a pack of cigarettes from his back pocket. Camel blues. “What are you doing here?” He parrots back, smacking the bottom of the carton, plucking the one that shakes out between his long fingers. “I’d think that Miss. Team USA would be too busy for bar crawls.”

You bristle, eyes narrowing skeptically. You can’t tell if he’s making fun of you or not. “It’s not a bar crawl,” you shoot back childishly, feeling defensive under his heavy gaze. “We’re celebrating.”

Patrick just nods, letting out a small hum in lieu of replying. He's close enough now that you can see gray strands streaked through his hair. He looks older, a few barely there wrinkles creasing his skin as he pops his cigarette between his lips. “Got a light?” he asks around the filter, holding his hand out expectantly before you even answer.

It’s still just as annoying. You roll your eyes, sighing dramatically as you fish your lighter out of your skirts pocket. You place it in the open palm of his hand, ignoring the fireworks that go off at the base of your spine when his fingers catch on your wrist as you pull away.

He mumbles out a half-assed thanks, cupping his hand around the flame to shield it from the wind. If he notices the color, he doesn’t say anything. It feels wrong that he doesn’t tease you about it, staying silent as he tosses it back to you when his cigarette finally lights. You ignore the hurt blooming in your chest as you pocket it.

Patrick takes a deep inhale, the tip of his cigarette burns bright red. The way his lips wrap around the filter has heat spreading through you. “Shocked you’re still smoking,” he waves his free hand at you vaguely, smoke flowing from his lips as he speaks. “It’s not super admirable.”

You let out a dry laugh, shaking your head in disbelief. “That’s really how you want to start this?

“Start what?” he asks coyly, leaning his shoulder too close to you against the brick. He’s playing dumb, the smirk on his face gives him away.

You say nothing, not trusting yourself to speak. He has a beard now, sort of patchy and fairly new looking. You wrinkle your nose up at it.

It doesn’t surprise you that he’s acting like this. All calm and collected like he’s catching up with an old friend, like he didn’t say all those horrible things to you. As if every single word he said that night isn’t still engraved in your mind and carried with you through your whole career.

Patrick’s quiet for a bit, taking another slow drag. “Have you seen either of them?” His voice is hesitant, like he’s treading the water of your boundaries by bringing this up. “Or am I your first?” He lets the innuendo hang in the air, trying to joke his way through something neither of you really want to talk about.

You don’t look at him, keeping your eyes trained on the part of the street you can see through the alleys opening.

You don’t need to ask who “them” is.

You just shake your head no, not wanting to have to say anything out loud and make this into a whole thing. The smoke from your cigarette swirls through your lungs, warm and familiar.

You’ve seen them both at multiple tennis events. Things like matches, and galas, and charity auctions. Hell, they watched from the stands when you won Wimbledon for the first time. You just make sure and avoid them like the plague, always running the other direction the second you see a short bob and cropped blonde hair.

You’ve been in the same room with them countless times over the years but you might as well have been in separate worlds. The only “contact” you’ve had with them since you all graduated was weirdly ominous.

Art followed you on Instagram after you got your third career slam, but he doesn’t like any of your posts. You’re one of the mere twenty accounts in his following. You never followed him back.

Then, when your career first started taking off, the press somehow learned about your past with Tashi. They started using it to their advantage when picking headlines for any pieces written about you. “The only woman in the world to beat Tashi Duncan!” It pissed you off to no end. It was stupid, a way to get clicks on their sad little gossip sites. And it wasn’t even fucking true.

They finally stopped when you threatened to sue their asses. Apparently, Tashi noticed.

She sent you flowers. You threw them out.

Patrick nods back, taking his own slow drag. The sound of traffic hums in the background, the music from the bar bleeding through the wall mutely.

“Congrats on that,” he says casually, looking you up and down slowly. You fight not to squirm under his gaze. “On making the team. That’s some serious shit. I always knew it’d be you, out of all of us.”

It’s a blatant lie. You were always four out of four in college, the one person in the group with the least potential for stardom. If it wasn’t for Tashi’s injury, she’d definitely be in your place — on top of the world.

He’s trying to pacify you, to butter you up. All it does is grate on your nerves and leaves a sour taste in your mouth.

“Did you just come out here to interrogate me? To mess with me?” you ask sharply, frustration starting to get the better of you. “Do you want a fucking autograph or something?”

Patrick laughs, throwing his head back. “Nope, I wanted to catch up. It's been a while.” he shrugs, eyes darkening ever so slightly. “I just know how much you like talking about yourself, that’s all.”

You pause, picking up on the clear implication of his words. “Excuse me?” you question, turning towards him.

“Just saying,” he says, raising his hands in surrender. “When we were younger everyone always thought I was this arrogant, cocky, self obsessed prick…” he trails off, an infuriating smirk still playing on his lips. It does nothing to soothe you, only adding fuel to the fire of your anger. “And they were all right, I was. But, that’s also exactly what you are right now.” he finishes, tapping the ash off his cigarette.

You feel it, all the emotions swirling inside you of at seeing Patrick again threatening to burst. Anger and misery waging a war in your stomach. The wind is starting to pick up around you, making goosebumps break out over your skin. The fabric of your skirt swishes around your thighs. You feel clammy, but it has nothing to do with the temperature drop.

“Was?” you ask, condescending and mean, crossing your arms across your chest defensively. “You really don’t think you’re still all of those things?”

Patrick chuckles, shoulders shaking with amusement. He goes to say something, but you beat him to it. “I’ve changed, Patrick.” you say sternly, brows furrowing in displeasure. Your tone is hard, frustration seeping into your words. Considering the last time the two of you spoke, this was almost going well. It’s just like Patrick to ruin something before he needs to.

You know distantly that you could deescalate the situation, but maybe you’re more alike than you thought. Maybe you’re just too greedy to keep the peace. “So fucking sorry that I’m not the same person I was in college, but I actually chose to grow up.”

Patrick snorts, exhaling a plume of smoke through his nose. “Yeah, clearly.” he mutters under his breath, it’s condescending and sarcastic. It pisses you off.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” you ask sharply, cigarette now forgotten and steadily burning away at your side.

Patrick shrugs, like it’s obvious. “You’re still so lost. I sure as shit don’t have a red, white, and blue track suit hanging in my closet, but at least I know who I am.” He doesn't sound angry, only sure of himself, like he may have been thinking about this for a while. His face is passive, body relaxed as he leans against the hard brick.

Your jaw clenches, anger running hot through your veins. He doesn’t know anything about you, hasn’t for over ten years. He doesn’t have the right to try and talk down to you, not after all the hard work you put in to get to where you are.

“My wrist alone is worth ten million. What are you worth now, Patrick?” You’ll be embarrassed about bringing up status later, you always try to stay as humble as possible, but you’re too mad to care. You just need to hurt him, to hurt him like he hurt you. You’d heard from a friend of a friend that Patrick’s parents cut him off a while ago, that he’s been slumming it ever since. “I know exactly who I am, I’m a fucking Olympian.”

The venom in your tone is sharp, each word from your lips like a knife stabbing through the tense air trying to draw blood. “You’re a fucking nobody, Patrick. You’re irrelevant. Washed up. Buried. Forgotten.” You pause when your voice starts to shake, taking a deep inhale of smoke to try and calm yourself. Your hand is shaking too, ash falls from the burnt out tip down to the gravel. Patrick just watches you, his expression doesn’t change. Smoke billows from between your lips, blowing away with the wind. “We’re not on the same level, not anymore.”

Patrick’s unfazed, staring back at you with his cigarette dangling from his lips. He takes it between his fingers, letting his arm drop to hang at his side. “I’ve been thinking about you.” he says casually, head lolling to the side lazily. He looks at you through his lashes, eyes sweeping over your face slowly. “I was just thinking about you, and now you’re here. Right fucking in front of me.” he shakes his head with a dry laugh. “You look…” he trails off, green eyes taking in every inch of you. “You look amazing.”

Your pulse flutters wildly, you feel so light headed, like you could pass out any second. “I’ve missed you, missed you everyday since that night.” His expression is that same half cocked grin from before, all smooth bravado and easy smiles as if he’s not staring at you like you’re the very blood coursing through his veins. All the air drains from your lungs, mind racing what feels like a thousand miles per second.

He sounds like he means it. He looks like he means it. He can’t possibly mean it.

A loud chant ringing through your skull is the only coherent thing screaming through all the mess. Don’t fall for it, don’t fall for it, don’t fall for it, don’t fucking fall for it–

“Well I don’t miss you.” A lie. “You were nothing to me, Patrick.” Another lie. “You were just easy dick.” Your stomach twists painfully, like your body is physically trying to stop you from lying to yourself any further.

His face stays neutral, it frustrates you to no end that you can’t tell what he’s thinking. Patrick had a terrible poker face in college, you could read him like a book with a single glance. It was one of your favorite things about him, how expressive his face always was.

Now he’s just staring down the bridge of his nose at you passively, the picture of indifference. It’s another reminder of how long it’s been, that he’s lived a whole life without you in all that time. He takes a long drag off his cigarette, never breaking eye contact with you as he does.

His lips are slick and pink, just how you remember them. The beard isn’t so bad, it makes him look more rugged, more like a man. It’s the most drastic change in his appearance, far different from the smooth skinned pretty boy he was before.

He exhales, a long stream of smoke blowing past your ear. “What are you still doing here then?” he muses with a small shrug. He leans in even closer, slowly, like you were a cornered animal he didn’t want to spook. You can smell him, something woodsy with a hint of musk. You can see the clusters of freckles scattered over the bridge of his nose, almost completely faded. “If I’m nothing,” he clarifies, simple, easy. “Why are you here?”

It’s a loaded question, one he obviously knows the answer to. It’s a dick move, forcing you to confront what you’re really feeling. Your eyes start to sting, complicated emotions welling up in your throat. “Fuck you Patrick.” you whisper weakly, all the bite in your tone getting lost in your dejection. Your lip wobbles warningly, you try your best to stifle it. You refuse to cry in front of him.

Patrick’s face does something funny, turning his eyes to the sidewalk. “I need someone like that again. Someone that isn’t afraid to fucking check me, that wants me to do better and not because they just see a check or a legacy or whatever the fuck else my parents expected from me. Someone that wants me to do better because they actually believe in me.”

The honesty in his voice takes you by surprise. He gets more worked up the longer he talks, chest rising and falling a lot faster than before. Rare vulnerability slipping through the cracks of his hardened exterior. “I fucked up that night, I know. Now my life’s a fucking mess, and I need someone to help make it make sense again.“

You scoff thickly, shaking your head in disbelief as you fight back tears. “And I’m that person?” you ask skeptically, brow raised in question.

“You always were,” he replies easily, his face forming into a sad smile. He almost sounds like his old self. Your brain flashes the image of Patrick leaning outside the door of your science lecture, waiting to walk you back to your dorm. He’s smiling wide enough to show teeth, looking down at you with brilliant green eyes, just like he is right now.

Suddenly, he wasn’t the boy that broke your heart on a tennis court twelve years ago.

He was the boy that held your hair back when you threw up after drinking too much at a frat party and still stayed the night even though you didn’t hook up, his chest pressed against your back like a security blanket the whole night. He was the boy that let you make friendship bracelets on the handle of his favorite racket, and secretly kept the one you made for him braided around the neck for weeks until you finally noticed the fraying blue strings still in place when he forgot his tennis bag at your dorm room one night.

Suddenly he wasn’t anything but the boy you fell in love with when you were eighteen years old.

You swallow hard, heart pounding against your ribcage. Your cigarette falls from the slack grip of your fingers, plummeting to your feet where it burns out on the pavement.

It’s like you lose control of yourself, like all your morals get shot out of a cannon into the sun. You’re lunging forward before you know what you’re doing, fisting the fabric of Patrick’s shirt and pulling him down to meet you halfway. Your first kiss with Patrick in twelve years.

It’s a mess of teeth clashing together roughly, with way too much tongue and spit to be classified as romantic. It’s desperate. It’s angry. It’s fucking filthy and it’s exactly what you need.

Your tongue forces its way between Patrick’s lips when he gasps in shock, mapping out the familiar territory of his mouth like muscle memory. His big hands fly up to hold onto your hips as he eagerly returns your kiss, pressing you up against the brick and sucking your tongue lewdly. He tastes like smoke and bottom shelf whiskey. You moan into his mouth, wetness starting to seep through the thin material of your panties.

You stay like that for a while, just kissing until Patrick slides the hard line of his cock against your hip strategically. You moan at the size of it pressing onto you through his jeans, breaking the kiss to inhale a couple lungfuls of air. “You’re not fucking me in an alley.” You say bluntly as he trails wet kisses down the side of your throat.

He laughs, nipping at your collarbone teasingly. “My car’s a block away,” he offers between kisses.

You think about it for a second. Deciding on whether or not you’re going to let Patrick fuck you in the backseat of his car like you’re two horny teenagers and not full grown adults.

“Lead the way.” Is all you say, finally letting yourself smile when Patrick starts to drag you away from the bar.

You shoot your friends a quick text letting them know you decided to head home early, already in the uber you ordered when you’re actually letting Patrick drag you across a blessedly empty parking lot to an old SUV parked in the middle. A completely one-eighty from the Porsche he used to drive.

He takes a second to press you against the door, capturing your lips with his again. It’s a slower kiss, sweeter than the one you shared outside the bar. You feel butterflies erupt in your stomach when he cups your face, gently rubbing his thumb over your cheekbone. He fumbles blindly for the car door with his other hand, pulling it open and pushing you into the back. He follows closely, climbing in and shutting the door behind him.

Patrick’s back on you in less than a second, yanking at the buttons of your shirt impatiently, fingers too big to work them through the holes as fast as he wants to. He lets out a frustrated growl, grabbing both sides and pulling hard. The buttons all go flying in different directions, landing in different spots around you.

“That was three hundred dollars,” you mumble against his lips, not wanting to stop kissing him for even a second. He looms over you, broad and all encompassing. He sits up to yank his own shirt over his head, tossing it aside and popping open the button of his jeans.

“You can buy another one,” he says simply, shucking his jeans and boxers off all in one go. His dick is long and lovely, tip red and drooling pre-cum that drips all the way down to his balls. Your mouth waters, desperate to taste it, to feel the weight of it on your tongue and down your throat. You push it to the back of your mind. There’s no time for that, both of you too keyed up to do anything other than fuck.

Patrick leans down, biting your bottom lip hard enough to make you moan. He turns his attention to your pulling skirt down, panties going with it and getting tossed onto the floorboard carelessly. His eyes zero in on your bare pussy, wet and on display. The cool air shocks your system, making you want to press your thighs together but Patrick’s hands keep you spread open.

“Fuck,” he whispers quietly, moving to roll the knuckle of his right index finger over your slick entrance, just barely rocking it into you. You gasp, your whole body trembling with need. “Just like I remember.” He mutters to himself, pushing in the smallest bit deeper.

Your leg kicks out, patience starting to wear thin. “C’mon, Pat.” you mewl sweetly, bucking your hips up in a clear invitation. “Fuck me.”

Patrick shifts up onto his knees, silently shuffling closer to your spread thighs. His cock juts out from his body, so thick and heavy that it doesn’t point straight up, instead hangs angry and red between his legs. His big hands slide halfway up your thighs, you shiver at the way they skirt across your skin lightly. He presses you backwards by them, leaning over you with your legs slung across his shoulders.

His cock drags across your inner thigh, trailing a sloppy line of pre-come as it does. You nearly wail, wrapping your arms around Patrick’s broad shoulders as you beg for him to give you what you want.

“God Patrick! Put it in. Please, put it in. Let me have it, please, fuck–,” you beg frantically, arms tightening around his shoulders like you’re trying to drag him impossibly closer to you. He goes willingly, burying his nose in the soft skin of your neck. He presses a small kiss directly over your pulse.

“I’m gonna give you this cock, baby.” he whispers lowly, hot lips brushing against your skin with every word. He slides the head of his cock through your wet folds, stopping to rub it over your swollen clit a few times. “Gonna get all up inside you and fuck you exactly how you like.” He slides the length down, letting his tip catch on your empty, clenching hole.

You’re so damn worked up, writhing and pushing back and begging Patrick to just fuck you already, that you can’t take anymore teasing. Your hole contracts around the tip of his dick like it’s trying to suck him in. He sinks in deeper, slowly feeding every thick inch into your aching cunt.

“God,” Your name falls from his lips in a shuddery breath that fans over your fluttering pulse. “You still smell the same.” It’s the same stunned, breathless tone from when he first saw you. He presses his face cheek to cheek with yours, the rough texture of his beard scraping against your skin.

Patrick moves his hips against you slowly, deep strokes that drag every thick inch of him against the walls of your cunt. The tip of his cock stabbing that sweet spot inside you that makes stars glow bright on the ceiling of his car each time you blink. The angle has his balls pressing against your cunt as he fucks into you, the excessive pre-come leaking from his tip mixing with the sticky wetness of your juices leaves an obscene ring of creamy white around the spread hole of your cunt. It sticks wetly to the base of Patrick’s cock with each thrust, shining back at you on his skin when he pulls out.

The slow thrusts feel amazing, but you know it’s not enough. You need him to pound into you, to bully his big cock into your cunt like he’s getting back at you for shutting him out. You need him to fuck you.

“Harder, Pat…” you whine breathlessly, clawing desperately at the polyester seats.

He groans loudly, hips immediately speeding up, getting rougher, meaner. He leans up to get more power behind his thrusts, breaking your tight hold on his shoulders. “This is where you belong,” he grits out, sweat dripping from his forehead to fall onto your heaving chest. The sharp smack smack smack of his hips bruising your ass gets louder, the lewd noise filling the car. “Where you should have been this whole fucking time, spread open on my cock.”

The only thing you can even get out anymore are pleading whines and loud moans of Patrick’s name as he pounds into you like he’s trying to kill you. The harsh snap of his hips inching you further up the backseat until your head’s knocking against the doors handle on each mean thrust. Your feet bounce by his ears, body almost completely folded in half so all you can do is lie there and take it.

The car rocks steadily, anyone who spares a glance at the SUV will know what’s going on inside.

Patrick sneaks a hand between your legs, fingers sliding over your swollen clit. You scream, throwing your head back in pleasure as the calloused tips over his fingers work you over. “Fuck yeah,” Patrick mutters, turning his head to lick and bite at your ankle. “You’re so fucking sexy, so fucking beautiful. I missed you so much, missed this pussy.” His voice is pinched, hips fucking into you impossible faster.

The wet squelching noise of your cunt is filthy, splattering against Patrick’s heavy balls with each thrust. “I know she missed me too, didn’t she baby?” he taunts, eyes wild and blown out. “Taking my cock so well, squeezing me so fucking good.”

“Close,” you gasp out. Patrick pitches forward, licking into your parted lips as he rubs tight circles over your clit faster. He kisses you sloppily, smearing spit all over your lips and chin. His sweat drips onto your face and mixes with your own, it should be gross, but it makes you even wetter. The primal part of your brain overjoyed to be claimed by him. He lifts his fingers up the tiniest bit, smacking them over your clit with the smallest amount of force.

Your orgasm hits you suddenly, back arching off the seat wildly as you gush around his cock. You claw at his back desperately, nails raking down his skin hard enough to leave angry red welts in their wake.

“Shit– that’s good, milk it out of me baby, work for this fucking load.” he groans, hips not slowing down as he chases his own release. His breath puffs over your skin, the rhythm of his hips starting to falter the closer he gets. You whine, trying your best focus on clenching your cunt over his cock in your fucked out state. “That’s it, baby– God – you’re gonna make me come, squeezing me so tight I can barely fucking move…” he growls, teeth sinking into your neck hard.

You hiss sharply, nails digging into his skin as the pleasure starts to become too much. He licks over the bite mark, like he’s apologizing. “Gonna fucking come inside you, fill you up so good, fuck–”

His rambling dissolves into a loud groan, hips giving one last thrust as he buries himself as deep in your cunt as he can. You feel rope after rope of warm come flood your insides, painting your walls with it. It feels like hours, him unloading into you with cut off moans and grunts.

You're still desperately trying to catch your breath when he finally starts to pull out of you as gently as he can. The red tip of his cock popping free lets the river of his come leak out from your abused hole, spilling out of you to drip onto the car’s seat.

Patrick curses at the sight, scooping the white, creamy mess onto his fingers so he can fuck it back into you. You hiss at the over stimulation, thighs squeezing together around his hand. Your chest is still heaving, breathing erratic as you slowly come down from your orgasm. Patrick tucks a stray strand of hair behind your ear, smiling warmly as he takes you into his arms and shifts around until he’s sitting up against the door with you curled into his chest.

The windows are steamy, melting all the streetlights outside into a swamp of warm colors on the glass. They shine through the car like sunlight piercing through a stained glass window. You feel light and hazy, like you’re in a dream. Patrick’s body grounds you, firm and familiar against your back. It’s quiet for a long time, only the sound of soft breathing fills the car. You're scratching your nails through the hair on Patrick’s chest when he finally breaks the silence.

“There’s…” he says into your hair, trailing off near the end. He’s idly tracing shapes on your lower back. A circle, a square, a circle, a diamond, a square, a heart. “There’s this challenger in New Rochelle in a couple weeks, I’m entering it. You should come.”

Your heart drops, the delicate cloud encompassing you and Patrick forcefully ripped away in less than a second. You’ve already heard of this challenger, seen all the publicity it’s been getting since Art’s name came up in the conversation surrounding it. The ‘Phil’s Tire Town Challenger’ is all anyone can talk about.

If Art’s there, she will be too. Sitting in the stands in a classy Ralph Lauren two piece, watching her husband and Patrick on the court, looming over the two of them for the first time in years. You can’t stomach the thought of seeing her. You can’t stomach the thought of Patrick seeing her, terrified that the second she spares him a glance you’ll be right back where you were in college, an afterthought left in the dust for something better.

Your stomach lurches violently, you feel nauseous. The heat of Patrick’s backseat becomes almost unbearable, making it harder to breathe. You rip yourself away from him, tearing through the backseat to find your clothes.

Patrick startles, sitting up with a concerned look on his face. “Jesus, what's wrong?” You can feel the warmth of his hands hovering over your back, not sure if he should touch. “What did I do?”

You don’t say anything, you can’t. Your throat feels tight, chest constricted and heavy as you try to take in lungfuls of air. You tug on your skirt and panties haphazardly, grabbing the first shirt you find strewn across the car's floor and yanking it on. You know it’s not yours but you don’t care, too busy trying to shove your shoes back onto your feet and push open the door all at once.

Patrick questions you the entire time, voice confused and insistent as you tumble out into the parking lot. The cool air feels like a life jacket, the smell of rain fills your nose as you try to steady your erratic breathing. You’re still trying to tug your right shoe on as you start to speed walk away from his car.

You can hear the sound of feet slapping behind you on the pavement as you walk. A strong hand wraps around your bicep, whipping you around. Patrick only has his pants on, shirtless and barefoot in his haste to catch up with you.

“What the fuck are you doing? What’s wrong?” He sounds genuinely concerned, his eyes searching your face closely. It makes tears burn hot at your waterline, blurring your vision and falling to trickle down your cheeks when you try to blink them away.

“This was a mistake, Patrick.” your voice is thick with emotion, you try to wrench your arm out of his grip. He doesn’t let go, not squeezing tight enough to hurt but to try and keep you in place. You need to leave, to get as far away from Patrick as you can before you’re in too deep. “Please, let go.” Your voice is small, shaky and weak and so unlike you. The panic from the car is still wrapped around you, growing tighter every second you spend with him.

Patrick shakes his head wildly, raindrops slowly start to fall onto his bare shoulders. “No, fuck no! We can talk about this. We just need to talk–”

“Patrick stop!” Your voice cracks embarrassingly, loud and desperate as you double your efforts to free your arm. “Please just let me go!”

You don’t know if it’s the way you said it or the look on your face, maybe it’s a bit of both, but something makes Patrick let you go. Dropping your arm from his grip and letting his own hang limply at his side.

Rain starts to come down all around you, large drops hitting your skin and soaking the cotton of your shirt. You let yourself meet his eyes, they're sad in a way you’ve never seen before. The green turned dull and lifeless. It looks wrong on him.

When you can’t stand the hurt look on his face any longer, you leave. Walking away deeper into the rain, small puddles splashing up around your shoes with every step. You hope Patrick doesn’t follow you, that he lets you go. You’re doing him a favor by making the choice for him, it’s easier this way.

“You know, I think I really loved you.” He calls from behind you as the rain really starts to pick up. His voice almost gets swallowed by the thunder, you wish it would have.

Against your better judgment, you look back. Patrick hasn't moved, still standing in the middle of the parking lot. The rain is making his hair stick to his forehead, starting to seep into the denim of his jeans to darken the gray.

“I’m sorry,” you say quietly, voice tiny and pathetic. Patrick probably couldn’t even hear you over the wind whipping through the air. He stares back at you, there's too much distance for you to see the look on his face. You turn on your heels and keep walking.

It’s nostalgia in its sickest form, the dark familiarity of the situation washing over you with the rain as you walk away from Patrick again. Ignoring every call of your name and desperate pleas for you to come back is new, you can’t tell if it hurts more or less than the silence of last time.

You wrap your arms around yourself, tears mixing with the trails of rain running down your cheeks. It’ll make it easier to convince yourself later on that you weren’t really crying, that it was just the rain. Tomorrow you’ll wake up and this will all be behind you. Patrick will be fine, he doesn’t really love you. In a few weeks he’ll go to the challenger and forget all about you.

You hear your mothers voice ring out in the back of your head as you walk.

"It's for the best, my love. Dependence is weakness."

You hope to God that she's right.

tags are now in the comments! if you want to get tagged for any of my works just fill out this form!

547 notes · View notes

eveningepiphany · 23 days ago

Text

pirates gold, H.S series part 4

series masterlist

my masterlist<3

summary: another day on the ship with your captor turns into him teaching you a thing or two about the pirate life. but as controversy’s of your past come up, somehow the captain and the princess wind up back in his bed- with anything but sleep on their minds.

warnings: mentions of violence, talk of unconsensual past experiences (not descriptive!) swearing, SMUT: f!rec oral and fingering, m!rec oral with slight edging, p in v penetration, dirty talk, lots of sex, anyways oopsie enjoy

a/n: i genuinely can’t believe how long this took to write and publish. thank you all for your patience, i like to think the sex they have makes the three million year wait worth it. can’t wait to hear what you all think<3

———

Nothing can prepare a person for realising they don't know themselves as well as they thought.

There's a mixture of disappointment, shame, dread. But sometimes, deep down—despite not ever admitting it to oneself— there's can be an element of excitement.

Not always, but occasionally. There’s that moment of wonder, who really am i?

It’s a bewildering spiral of good and bad feelings, you hardly know left from right, or up from down.

Rarely did you do things for yourself purely for the sake of it. Back at home there was someone for everything, not only to do things for you, but to make sure you weren't stepping out of line.

You couldn’t experiment. No finding out who you are deep down. There was never the chance for self discovery.

Now, you’ve landed in a situation where somehow you’re supposed to be more trapped. Yet you don’t think you’ve ever been more free.

No more straight posture at the dining tables of the banquet hall, being left to sit with a cautious mouth for hours upon hours. Engage in colourless and dull conversation while you imagined freedom.

Funny to think of it now… the picture in your head. Neatly pulled back hair. A spotless dress without a hunch of what was past the waters you stared out at every night. It was like trying to explain what something tasted like, yet having never tasted it yourself.

You knew nothing of freedom.

Not until you felt the sea nearly swallow you, the wind whip your hair a mess, the heart in your chest pounding as you ran out of Sintir— a place you’d only ever seen on a map.

Indulging in late night caressing with a pirate, something that selfishly bled into early morning, in his own bed. Hands on bare skin, hands in hair, hands wherever they could feasibly touch without crossing some sort of invisible line. Definitely not something that would’ve flown back in Kelna.

Yet that is exactly what you did a few days ago, and your head has been a complete mess since. After you stooped as low as to beg the Captain of this very ship to stay with you, he did just that. For how long, you dont even know. Long enough a crew mate of his was rapping his fist upon the locked door, calling out in bemused annoyance.

“You're either so hungover you cant move or tied up in there by our supposed-to-be prisoner.”

The heave of his chest underneath your head is ingrained into your memory. A strong huff, perhaps annoyed, but something you hope was from sadness. A regret for having to leave at any point, for not being able to stay forever.

"Free of any ties, Tanner. Just... tired." He calls back, tone rather harsh.

You'd moved yourself off him, "I'm embarrassed i didnt think to do such a thing."

The quip lacked all venom it used to, and you scolded yourself internally. You were screwed.

---

The days since were as bipolar as the weather at sea. You craved him, his touch, his voice of silk. It was like a drug. But you knew better for yourself.

After the hangover wore off, and the reality of what you had done set in. You forced distance between the two of you. He saw it coming, even he played along with it.

You two never stopped the game. You just went from a chess piece on his board to being the person opposite him.

Meant to be playing to win.

Up on deck, now the sun has come back out, everyone is saying the good weather is to return from now. Unsure whether to trust it— like many other things on this ship. You keep your gaze trained on the distance, where the waves ripple and swell. There is still a gusty wind, but the sun is hot on your skin.

Slowly, you chew on the fish roll you made in the kitchen with Zayn. He is a gifted cook, you on the other hand, are far from it. Used to it ‘being done for you’ he'd scorned playfully.

He'd shown you a few things this past week, stuff you feel envigored learning about. Knowing how to live independently for yourself is freeing, just as you knew it would be.

Wiping the crumbs off the sides of your lips with the back of your hand, you wonder how you are to go back to living the way you used to.

Before you could spiral into that rabbit hole, someone interrupts.

"Y/N." Harry said, his tone unreadable.

Tearing your gaze from the far horizon, your eyes met his.

The purple silk top covering him today has a typical amount of ruffles for a fashion heavy pirate. He looks tragically good in purple.

"Yes, Captain." You kept your own voice level.

The past week your walls have gone back up, albeit, haphazardly. You still struggled to stay on your side of the bed. And the few brief moments the connection between the two of you has festered in the air, and you’ve allowed it to linger.

Or better said, the moments you didn’t have the strength to resist it.

Like brushing past him in the kitchen yesterday, his hand coming to your waist as you attempt to squeeze through the gap. He wasn’t holding you, but you stopped dead in your tracks.

For but a second you both sucked a breath in. No longer than that, and then you cleared your throat and pushed past him.

Either way, he's noticed it, obviously. Feeling like he should regret the night after taking you into Sintir. But he selfishly cant.

He can’t regret it when the sensation of your skin is burnt into the pads of his fingers. No part of him is strong enough to forget the way your body felt pressed against him, leg thrown over his waist and curled into his chest.

Yet, despite all of that, back to the game you both went, head first. Your bickering was more contained, but his title of mean pirate was attempted to be restored in your mind.

Maybe he couldn’t forget the imprint of your skin against his, but he did love a good game.

Who was he not to feed into that?

A chuckle rumbles in his chest, “Captain, aye? We back to that are we. Two can play at this game Princess.”

The name makes your stomach stir, a small punch of adrenaline tingling in your limbs. How far can you push this before someone gets hurt?

He leans down to you, the blouse is loose on him and falls at the front. He’s eye level with you but your gaze locks onto the view of his chiseled chest between swirls of purple fabric, the tattoos you can vividly remember tracing with your fingers.

His tan skin is glistening between his pecs… a light sweat over him, making your mouth dry.

Suddenly his hand lifts your chin, “my eyes are up here, dove.”

“Don’t be disgusting.” You scoff, despite being caught in the act.

“What is it you want. Why are you pestering me?”

“Such a princess thing t’say, that im bothering you. You’re on my ship, need I remind you.” His fingers tap your cheek with a smirk.

“Need I remind you, that’s not to any choice of my own.” Your voice is indignant, and you pull your chin from his grasp, turning your face away with a scowl.

He’s pressing your buttons, winding you up exactly the way he knows how.

“Well, I haven’t heard much about how deeply y’long to be back home.”

It works a charm, because you’re quick to snap back at him.

“That is none of your business. And frankly I would rather keep that matter to myself than share it with the people who are responsible for kidnapping me.”

He loves hearing your accent when you argue like that, the pompous royal tone returning briefly to you. So stuck up, said always like a challenge.

Letting out a breathy laugh, his hands suddenly coming to under your arms. He hoists you off the floor like you’re but a parcel of feathers, standing you upright.

“Won’t you leave me be!” The raise in your voice causes a few crew to turn their head at the scene.

“‘M trying to make y’useful ‘round here.” He chides, his hand snakes down to one of your wrists, a smirk pulling at his lips.

The feeling takes you back to the first day on the ship merely weeks ago, when that was the only way you got around.

His hand wrapped around the rope tied around them.

You think back to when you threw yourself off the ship, When he swam out to retrieve you, when his hips pinned you to hull of the ship and he cut the ties free.

“Instead of jus’ leeching our supplies,” his voice draws your attention away from the tan hand wrapped around your wrist. “And laying around not carrying y’weight.”

“Maybe you can just starve me then. That way I won’t be taking away from your precious supplies.”

“So much sass on y’today,” The smirk that comes across his face is devilish, walking you over to the bass of a mast, “c’mere”

He pulls you infront of him, his chest to your back. Forcing himself not to take any notice to your figure, the white blouse covering your top half and the black fitted pants that are tight around your bottom.

“See this rope, how it’s worn?”

Your head turns over your shoulder to catch his eyes, and your heart lurches in your chest as you clock how close his face suddenly is to you. The green in his eyes is captivating in sunlight. With his captivating eyes burning into you, his mouth is still holding a smirk.

You give a swift, forced nod, but you’re not even looking. You’re pretty sure you haven’t even blinked.

This causes a laugh to bubble from his chest, suddenly he’s leaning in.

What the fuck?

Your brain is racing as his body leans towards you, and face is inching closer.

There is no way he’s about to kiss you.

Suddenly he’s placing something in your hands, and his body is going back to its original stance.

He was handing you the rope.

Your cheeks feel like they’re on fire, and he’s surely seen the flush that’s spread across it. It’s making you overheat, and your lungs are rising up and down in your chest ten times as fast compared to just five minutes ago.

What is wrong with me?

You snap your gaze down, hoping that your hair falls enough to cover your flaming cheeks.

“It’s…” your voice falters— great— you’re so embarrassed right now.

“Princess, has a cat got your tongue?” He chides with sarcasm.

“It’s frayed, feels weak, yes.” You nod hastily.

“Good girl,” he watches you purse your lips at his silky praise, and focuses on purely the amusement riling you up stirs in him. Not any of the other emotions that arise.

“Y’gonna help me replace it.”

“Like hell i am. Do you want your ship to fall apart?” You scowl, there is no way you can do that without something going terribly wrong.

“That’s why I’m teaching you, y’could do with a bit of hands-on work.”

Your eyes trail up to what the rope connects to, it’s holding down a part of the sail, helping to pull it taut.

“Taking this off won’t do much since we aren’t on too rough of waters, so it’s a good time t’change it.”

He steps a few feet away from you and retrieves a wad of fresh intact rope. A lot of it too, metres upon metres.

Your body remembers the sensation of it wrapped around your hands and your feet with a slight shiver.

“Firstly, we’re gonna untie and remove the old one.”

“Harry, I don’t know what im doing.” You whine, wishing to be anywhere but here, immediately frustrated.

He tuts, dropping the pile of new rope down next you both, “Zayn did tell me y’were bad at this.”

“Excuse you?” You scoff, shocked at his audacity. Slightly offended.

He steps back behind you, ushering you forward so you’re close to the metal bar that the worn tie is wrapped around.

“Told me y’don’t like being bad at things. Don’t like not knowing how to do stuff.” His voice is smug, like that is a fatal flaw.

“I—“ you’re so annoyed right now.

“I am not!”

“Y’defensiveness only proves m’point.”

You don’t even know what to say to him right now. Truthfully— ego aside— you don’t know if that’s how you get. You have gone laps around the sun without knowing this kind of stuff about yourself.

In defiance, you don’t admit this to Harry. But you stay silent as his hands reach for the knot in front of you.

“Now, princess. Look at this.”

“I’m looking.” You huff.

“Where do you think we’re gonna start untying this, what kind of knot do y’think this is?”

“I have half a clue of what kind of knot this is, Captain.”

“This is a water bowline, angel.” The words mean little to you, but your stomach does a weird squeeze at his confident words, the way his accent makes the word angel sound.

“I’m going to guess this loose end here,” Your right hand extends out, tugging at the few inches of rope that extends out the middle of the knot, “has something to do with untying it.”

He smiles at the way you’re starting to soften at the idea of what’s happening. Yes, you’re still standing tense and your tone is still veering on irate. But you’re indulging, playing along at the least.

A small sense of pride bubbles through him, “Smart girl, it does.”

“You’ll see these knots everywhere on the ship, in many different forms. They’re nice and secure, can take a lot of tension but aren’t hard to tie or untie.”

“This here,” his fingers trace a loop in the top of the knot, “is what you’re gonna pull on first.”

You grab it and he brings his hand to your waist. The action makes you flush as you try and focus.

“Fold it forward, this is gonna loosen it against the standin’ end of the rope.”

You don’t know what that means, but you pull the part he’s directing you to towards yourself, applying a bit more pressure when you see it needs it.

He hums in approval, and your lips purse together, “Now that loose end, feed it out of the wrap in the middle there.”

You do that, and he reaches forward to add tension on the upper section of the rope as you now use both hands to untie the rest of the knot— unhooking it.

“Tha’s it. Now we can replace it, and I’ll show you how to tie the knot.” He takes the old rope and figure 8’s it around a metal hold, so it’s still holding the sail.

He sees your curious eyes at his action, and explains, “We could cut it, but just incase it’s better to have it handy until y’know you’re ready to replace it.”

You nod, and he grabs the fresh rope and sets it up for you.

Grabbing your hands, he walks you through the process first himself, then he unties it to make you do it.

You curse for the first few minutes as you try to tie it properly, but once he guides you again, you’re staring at the tied knot.

“There you go, look at that princess. Jus’ tied ya first water bowline.” He comments proudly, and you can’t help but smile.

“Thanks…” you feel good, accomplished.

“I’m gonna secure it in the eyelet up there now, y’stay down here.”

He leaves you down there. All while you watch him bring the sail in, so he can reach it from the mast. Rope tied to his belt loop, he unties the old one and lets it drop.

You’d stepped back so it could fall without nearly taking you out by the head. Staring with hardly enough shame as Harry worked his fingers to create a new knot through the eyelet of the sail.

His brow furrowed in concentration, unbothered by the metres between him and the deck of the ship as he balanced entirely unsuspended.

His strong thighs are tensed as he holds himself stable, black pants look good on him.

He cut the excess rope off with a dagger and climbed down with ease. Unbelievable how good he can look doing something like that.

Once he’s back down, he walks over to where you stood and admires the new rope alongside you. You aim to pretend you hadn’t been checking him out the whole time.

Nudging you with his shoulder, “And who said princesses couldn’t learn pirate things.”

“I’ve learnt plenty of pirate things.” You state.

“So, what are you, more princess or pirate then, dove?”

With a frown your eyes slant to him, trying to search in his gaze the motive behind the question. So many tricks are up his sleeve, he never fails to remind you that.

“I’ll leave that up to you.”

His eyes scan your face, flickering over you. A tick of silence, and then he curtly nods, “Well, they say practice makes perfect, so don’t think we’re done yet.”

He intends on spending this afternoon with you, regardless of what other things he should be doing.

“I thought it was my turn to teach you something.”

“What? Like how to manage my table manners?”

You can only roll your eyes.

And to be fair, you did plenty of that as the blue sky bled into sunset.

“No, you dolt. If you picked up that fork first they’d barrate you on the spot.”

“Whatever,” he’d sighed, “I find getting your hands dirty with a good meal is the only way to eat something.”

The evil smirk on his face as he’d said that was all telling.

The two of you did both lots of thinking and lots of talking. Lapsing between periods of comfortable silence and discussion.

A part of you wondered if this was his tactic to pry your guard back down. You hated yourself for letting it work, the fact you somewhat allowed him into the works of your brain again.

After finishing the last rope he wanted to replace, you’d stretched out your shoulders.

"Do y'feel accomplished?" His own arms reaching above his head.

"I feel productive, which is rare that happens.”

He starts walking in the direction towards the communal quarters, in presumption that you'd follow.

You do just that, wasting no time matching his pace.

"Thanks. For showing me." The words are hard to push pass your lips, they're clunky and almost shy. But they pack the same level of meaning.

He stops the few steps in front of you, right next to the wall of the communal quarters. He turns around so his full front is facing you. The sun has dipped below the horizon of the sea, the warm golden hour glow sinking with it.

Now it's lingering in that space of inbetween, where it’s not quite dark, but not light enough to class as sunset still.

You can almost relate.

His green eyes have pinned you to a stop as well, your hands falling to the front of your white blouse. The wind is toying with the loose material, gently, your fingers ring the ruffled bottom that cuts off midway down your ribcage.

He's been forcing himself to hold his eyes strictly to your face, not anywhere near the sweetheart neckline thats dipping to show the swell of your chest.

Can’t believe I bought that for her and thought I’d be able to not stare, he thinks internally.

"You dont have t'thank me." He answers truthfully. Despite the fact he may have mocked your lack of gratitude he wholly believes you did him a favour today.

"You showed me how to do something. Something useful, and practical." You remark cautiously, watching your tone doesn't give away too much sentiment, "I cant tell you the last time i've had that."

"Y'can read right?" he chuckles, stepping forward.

"I went to school Harry."

His eyes rolled playfully, finally breaking off you, making you feel like you can suddenly inhale again.

"What do they even teach you there."

"Table manners, exactly the knowledge I so kindly imparted on you earlier." you dryly joked, despite it being entirely true.

"How to talk, how to act, what to do, what not to do." You sigh as you think back on it, walking to go lean against the wall.

"Ooo” he hums, intrugied, "what not to do?"

You prattle off the first ones that come to mind, "Dont get caught lying, it brings dishonour. Dont curse, it displays immaturity and impurity,” a pause, and you scoff— one drilled into any royal in the court, “dont engage in any premarital relations."

His pupils are the only part of him that reacts at the mention of the third rule you listed, they dilate and almost shake with the intensity he’s staring at you with.

A shrug of your shoulders, "That one gets surpassed all the time though.”

At your words, his brows twitch, he thinks you're talking about yourself. The look that passes over his face is unmissable. You can't pinpoint the exact emotion, and honestly, neither can he.

You are old enough to make your own decisions, he reasons. Old enough to decide if you want to...

His brain crafts a million different scenarios. They flash past faster than he can keep up with. Lingering heavily on whether or not it was consensual.

You had spoken about how men in Kelna acted around you. Whispering disgusting things, touching you. He thinks they’d be people similar to Garret, dirtbags who would’ve forced anything if they wanted it bad enough. The thought makes him livid, to his very bones.

"You look worried." You comment ambiguously, toying dangerously with the curiosity surrounding his reaction.

When he doesn’t reply, you take it a step further,

"Does my value decrease if i cant be labelled as a pure, untouched little angel?" Your tone is sarcastic, but the second the words fall from your mouth, he reacts.

His whole body tenses where he stands, and he steps closer to you.

"Y/N." A stern but bordering protective voice comes from him, a way he’s not spoken before. "Do not ever talk ‘bout yourself like that on this ship, or I swear..."

His throat tightens with anger, voice faltering and eyes fluttering with tension. A hand grabs the wall you're standing near. Knuckles white as his fingers dig into it, "I swear t’god, it makes me want to break something."

"If somethin’ happened to you in that fucking ring of psychotic royals—” He spits it out like the thought disgusted him, “You're a human being, not a slab of meat."

It’s not often he feels the need to genuinely punch something. Someone. But right now anyone that has ever done something to you is on his immediate black list.

In the back of his brain, he recognises that in your eyes he’s equally a bad person for what he’s done to you. He stands here a hypocrite.

Furious at anyone whose ever hurt you, yet being the very person that’s holding you somewhere against your will.

The tension rolls around in your stomach, almost making it ache with the sudden anxiety. You’re so utterly confused with how to feel in this situation you force your mouth to move,

"For the record, i was not talking about myself." The clarification comes out meek despite trying to keep your tone unbothered.

He doesn’t attempt to hide his feelings, face contorted into a sneer, “Wouldn't put it past those pigs."

“No one did that to me.” You amend again, this time, your own tone stern.

“Alright Y/N, what did they fucking do to you then?” His question forces you relive every unwanted advance you’ve had to uncomfortably sit through.

Every ‘accidental’ hand placement, every provocative comment directed to you, every situation that made bile from your stomach rise into your throat.

Somehow, you find it in you to argue back, even though you don’t believe Kelna is even a shred better than a ship of pirates, "Its not like im safe in your world either."

It’s clear this is his tipping point.

The heart in his chest clenches and his body is moving before he can register it.

Because suddenly, the space surrounding you is being entirely filled, he grabs you with his hands. There’s not a sliver of violence in it at all, but it does make you jump.

Regardless, he sinks his hands into your hair. He can’t help it, curling them gently into the soft strands at the nape of your neck.

Despite how pissed he is, his touch is nothing but gentle.

It causes you to shudder, unsure if it’s out of unease or somehow a little bit of pleasure— the feeling his ringed fingers graze across the nerves that typically lay behind your hair untouched.

They ping around in your muddled brain, electromagnetic signals making you light headed. It’s overwhelming, how did this even happen?

Even with the soft touch of his fingers, the look behind his hard gaze makes your skin prickle with goosebumps.

“I…” you try to make words, yet nothing comes out. Hands against skin are all you can make sense of.

It’s tangible, they’re there. If your strip everything else away, it’s just someone holding you.

Someone touching you softly. Someone who you—deep down, no matter how hard you try to feel otherwise—are okay with touching you.

You can swallow that pill. If only you could make it that simple, of course.

“Harry.”

One thing he’s learnt since having you around is that he can’t handle the way his name sounds when it comes out of your mouth.

Especially not with that whined tone. When it falls from your lips like a plea.

He can’t seem to find the words either. Your feet are planted between his and your own hands are braced on his hips.

“Dove, y’can’t keep bloody doin’ this to me.”

“I’m not doing anything to you,” his hands slide to your face, they cradle your cheeks, “Harry im just standing here. I’m telling you the truth.”

His face feels so close to yours, you swear you can feel the breath that passes through his lips meet your own.

Intimate almost, if you think about it hard enough.

“I don’t care about that, I care about you.”

“You can’t do this to me!” You whine, pushing his hands away, stumbling back. Breaking that connection by force if you have to.

You don’t remember how you ended up like this, with your blood pulsing in your ears and your chest heaving so hard your ribs could break.

Exasperated, “I am fine! I am okay!”

He is at a loss for words. You are so complex, so intricate. His curiosity for you deepens, even when he thinks it can’t anymore.

“I do not need any kind of pity, there is nothing to pity!”

“They made you not trust people.” He says with disgust.

You cant believe he can say that when he literally kidnapped you. And although he’s right to a degree, this experience hasn’t been great for your trust issues either.

“This world made me not trust people.” You gesture out to the ship around you, in sheer disbelief, “I’m standing on a fucking boat in the middle of nowhere because nothing is okay!”

Yelling against the wind, “Because the only thing people care about is themselves, and what they can gain from exploiting others.”

“I am a fucking object to everyone I’ve ever met.”

A part of his heart cracks hearing this, he has to physically restrain himself from stepping closer to you.

Space, give her space, his brain urges him— despite his physical body begging to do the opposite.

“Y/N,” his voice attempts to stay level. He watches your reaction.

Like a timid yet fired up animal, your hair is being thrown by the wind, pupils wild.

“There’s nothin’ i can say that will justify any of this. I know tha’.”

“There’s not.” You snapped, eyes threatening an emotion you can’t imagine letting out around him.

Crying is another thing frowned upon in the court, not unless the circumstance is so dire it warrants it.

You think for a second that you’re going to have the strength to pull yourself together, but suddenly, a wet and salty tear slips past your waterline.

The humiliation inside you that followed the single tear that just slid down your cheek would be enough to crush a grown man.

You knew he’d seen it, your face is flaming with embarrassment.

“This— this conversation is over.” You curtly reply, voice worn as you force out a tone reserved for Kelna.

The way you’re speaking to him like an associate causes him to move, “Y/N, stop—“

But your feet are suddenly moving, “Do not follow me.”

The warning is clear, he hesitates into a stop. Debating what to do.

Give you space or force you to stay in his company?

The conflicting thoughts on his face are clear.

Yet he swallows, and nods.

Then you turn around and walk away.

———

He forced himself to wait an hour. An excruciatingly long one.

After he watched you walk away, he went into where his crewmates were. Predicatably, they were sharing pints and throwing darts. The room was warmly lit, filled with chatter that echoed inside the dark wooden walls. A few of the boys asked where you were as Harry passed them. He could only lie.

“Tired after working.” Was his chosen reply, hoping now was the time more than ever that the crew just took his word for something.

“Probably the hardest she’s ever worked aye?” Tanner drunkenly joked to him, patting his back and throwing another sip of beer back.

Harry had to refrain from shooting him a look. Despite it being something he’d likely say himself, right at that moment, all he felt was worry for you. Even a shred of defensiveness, but that’s a feeling he has to shove down for the moment.

Making way to the cupboards that held their fair share of staple pirate beverages, he pulled a metal flask out and leaned against the bar top.

He forced himself to act as though he was unbothered, and that he was interested in the games of darts unfolding.

However his brain was heavily preoccupied,

Is she okay? Did I do the right thing letting her have time to herself? Is she mad at me?

Questions ran on loop, running a hand through his curls he struggled to reason with himself.

A hand was placed on his back, that interrupted his spiralling thoughts as he sipped at the flask of whiskey. A short sideways glance revealed his blonde haired crew mate.

“Y’seem off.” He quietly remarked.

Niall, often unserious, was surprisingly good at knowing when something was up. And even better at handling it discretely.

Due to that, Harry let out a short sigh through his nose before admitting a shred of truth.

“May have struck a cord with her.”

“Go too far with something, mate?” He asks quietly, curiously.

“No,” he frowns, unsure if he’s insinuating something else, he quickly clarifys, “was talking about the courts, got her upset.”

Niall’s blue eyes dart to meet his captains. Allowing a curt nod before looking back out to their crewmates that are fake tackling eachother over a stolen swig of beer.

“Y’checked on her yet?”

“Givin’ her space. She’s not too happy w’me at the minute.”

He lets out a light snort, “Good choice. Unless she’s thrown ‘erself off the ship, then t’was a bad one.”

“Ha-ha.” He fake laughs and rolls his eyes at Niall, taking a moment to swallow down the anxiety that’s built in his throat.

He can’t avoid stressing about you.

After a few ticks of silence, Niall clears his throat,

“Jus’ careful wit her. For both your sakes.”

He adds on with a pat on the back, “here if you need cap. It’ll be alright.”

Anyone else he would’ve been annoyed for saying that, but Niall is probably wiser than Harry himself. So his advice is taken with gratitude.

“Thanks mate. I’ll be careful.”

After another half hour, he’d had enough of the ill feeling that stirred in his stomach.

He left the room to find himself outside in the now cold but still windy air. It took a second for his gaze to adjust to the darkness, immediately scanning the deck around him for you.

Without any sight of you, he checks all the places he can think you’d be. His room, the cells, the kitchen.

His heart doubles in pace every time you’re not in a place he thought.

Coming out of the kitchen, his quickened pace. Starting to walk along the deck that leads him along the perimeter of the boat.

As he gets closer to the stern of the boat, he feels genuinely sick.

What if you had—

“Y/N!” He gasps without any thought the second his eyes spot your silhouetted frame.

You’re leant against the edge of the boat, staring out into the black water that swirls beneath the ship. He thanks the stars you’re not in it right now, given he was starting to think the worst of the situation at hand.

He doesn’t give you any time to talk before his long strides are invading your personal space. Warm hands coming to your cheeks, turning them to inspect your face for any damage, as though you are some kind of treasure to him.

“Im sorry.” He immediately begins.

“I shouldn’t have pushed m’luck.”

Your eyes scan his, taking in his face as his hands have come to rest in the crook where your neck and shoulders meet.

You still haven’t said anything, which isn’t working in his favour because his words are filling the silence, becoming more risky with each passing second.

“Jus’… the idea of something like that happening to you made me…” his thumbs stroke upwards along the valley of your throat subconsciously, “makes me fuckin’ sick.”

Your lips part as he begins to spill things he probably shouldn’t. Swearing that he can probably feel your pulse in your neck where his fingers lay.

He can’t stop now, “hearing you talk about y’self like that, like y’an object... I know I am no better than any average person in the Kelna courts for what I’ve done to you. But I promise you that I’d take a dagger to my own hands till there was nothing left of them before I ever let something of that nature happen to you…”

A deep breath and he shakes his head, “Not without your permission, darling.”

He doesn’t even care what that’s insinuating. Never does he want you under the impression he has control of you in a sexual regard.

The thought of you even believing that made him sick.

The air around you feels pressurised, and it’s like you’re about to spill even more out to him.

“I am being held captive, yet I’ve never felt more fucking free. How fucked is that?”

He is silent to your admission, shocked into it almost.

“You don’t understand how it feels to go from having to watch your every move, every word, just to stay alive. You are loved with conditions.”

Your voice suddenly heavy with anger again, “People cannot be trusted, everything is always two-sided, no matter what they say to portray otherwise.”

His hands have slipped from you, you’ve started pacing the deck and throwing your own hands out as bouts of sheer outrage wash over you.

“Here, god— you’re atleast half fucking honest with me. I don’t have to conform to any stupid rules to how I speak or sit or dress. I can swear at you, and you only raise the stakes.”

He can’t really fathom that you’re not speaking less of him. That you’re admitting that the life you lead on the ship as a hostage is better than as a princess.

“And I go against every promise I made to myself when I woke up here. I would let you do anything to me, Harry. Do you not understand that? How hard that is to live with everyday?”

“y’implying a lot right now…” he answers.

“You have my permission!” You spit out, pissed off now. At him, for being so charming and handsome that you’ve wound up as the lamb that fell for the lion. And pissed at yourself for being so unable to halt your snowballing emotions for him.

You’re self aware enough to know you’re an idiot, yet you’re still in the same position nonetheless. You’re also going to blame it your lack of education on how to handle sexy pirates that kidnap you for ransom money.

All the same, you’ve come aware that you’d let him do anything to you. You’d do anything to him.

God forbid the day you would do anything for him.

You’re terrified because whether or not this is some kind of fucked up situation of Stockholm Syndrome, you’re too deep in it to turn back now.

“Fucking Jesus Christ…” he curses to the sky, stepping towards you where you’re pacing.

“I hate you, you know! For putting me in this position.” You point at him, stating with contempt once you lock eyes.

“Y/N. Stop.” His voice has dropped several octaves. The wind has urged the curls that usually sit pushed back to fall over his eyes and forehead. Standing over you, his gaze is pinning you to the spot.

His brows are furrowed in an unreadable expression, but you don’t care. Right now, everything you have is about to go on the line.

“Stop what? Telling you that there’s something going on with me— with us here?” You gesture between the two of you.

“Am I meant to tell you that I—“ His hands come to your waist and urge you backwards against the edge of the ship.

The low of your back is pressed into the wooden beam, something you should be scared about realistically, but his hold around you is tight.

“Don’t fucking say it.” He says, “whatever you’re about to say, keep it to yourself.”

“Can’t handle the truth, Captain?”

He tips your chin with his hand, bringing your head on an angle to look him in the eyes, “You won’t be able to handle what comes after that, Princess.”

You’re unsure when both of your breathing became short and laboured. His panting chest made your head physically spin.

“What? Are you gonna put me down in the cells, hang my by the chains on the walls?”

His exhale stutters out of parted lips, “Don’t even joke about that.”

“Ignoring your problems does nothing, Harry. They keep getting bigger while you hide from them. Out of sight out of mind doesn’t work the way you think it does.”

Your frustration easily spreads to him, pushing him closer to a point neither of you can come back from.

His hands grab yours suddenly, they wrap around your wrists and hold them tight between you both. Like he’s grasping for any element of control he has left before everything spirals.

“There is no problem here, Y/N.” He whispers into your ear, voice stern, “do not make one.”

The tension between you both is absolutely palpable, his body is so close to yours it’s spinning your senses haywire.

“So we what? Go back to your room and act like nothings going on… I go get into your bed, and I let you wrap your hands around me like it’s just— it’s just…”

There’s not even a word for it, your voice trails off. His breath hot against your ear, and his one hand still tight around your two wrists.

Fuck it, fuck this, you think.

You turn your face to his, noses bumping.

It’s like the pull between your lips is so strong it’s easier to give in than put an inch of distance between them.

Your body squirms against his. It’s making him wild, he needs you so bad it’s going to break him.

“Not doing it.” He pants out, voice so deep it sounds like he just woke up.

“Not kissing me?”

“Nope.”

“Im giving you permission.”

“Numbing your problems doesn’t make them go away. Feeding into them only makes them worse.” His eyes fluttered shut, brows in a deep frown as he holds himself back with every part of his being.

“So you admit there’s a problem.” Your voice sounds dignified.

The metaphor of your situation has taken on a nickname clearly, and you’re not sure if it’s helping at all.

You nudge your nose into his again, his head falls into a tilt. His mouth so easy to access…

A dance between you ensues. Your mouth moves forward but his moves back.

“It’s so wrong…” he whispers, tongue jutting out to wet his lips. They’re left parted open, air escaping and fanning onto your own.

“I want to rip your shirt off your body right now, how’s that for wrong?”

“if I kiss you, Y/N,” he begins, breath stuck in his throat, “I’ll never be able to send you back.”

And how wrong is it for you to admit that’s beginning to become exactly what you want.

A stretch of silence, and you finally just lean into him. The second your lips meet his, your whole body melts.

Air empties out of his lungs in sweet relief, he swears for a moment he feels so lightheaded that he’s dreaming this whole moment up.

The hand wrapped around your wrists slides off and finds refuge on your waist. A voice in his subconscious is selfishly begging your own soft fingers to touch him wherever they can.

It appears words are suddenly useless to you both, and all that’s important is the kiss that is finally happening.

The meaning behind it weighs like a tonne of bricks, yet somehow makes it all the better. It shows in the way his mouth moves against yours like velvet, kissing back into your upper lip like he’s desperate for you.

He still recalls the first time he caught himself thinking about kissing you.

You were down in the cells, playing the waiting game after pushing him one step too far. It’d been over a day since he’d pulled you out of the water you’d thrown yourself in.

The sun was hot on his skin as he thought of your fully soaked body that he pressed into the hull of his ship. He remembered looking up to your lips as he untied your bound wrists.

They were glossy with water from the sea.

As he thought about, he only could imagine tasting them. Kissing over the salt water until they no longer shone with ocean drops, but with his saliva instead.

He had to physically shake his head at himself. Blaming it on not having been laid in so long.

Didn’t take long to release that was far from the problem when it came to his unseemly attraction to you.

A deep whine sounds from your chest, drawing him back to the present, and he pushes his body as far into your space as it can. You’re physically pinned against the edge of the ship. Theres not a care in the world at the endlessly deep swell of water thats just past you.

You don’t even remember when tongue started getting involved, nor when exactly you worked up the courage to lick into his mouth.

It’s hot, so hot.

His body feels like it’s on fire, and your hands feel that tangible warmth as they slide underneath the purple silk covering his chest.

That heat isn’t just budding in chests, it’s striking hot between legs. Only growing worse by the minute.

“My fuckin’ god…” he groans into your mouth, hands squeezing the swell of your chest.

“You taste devine, angel…”

His words make you tipsy. You smile and kiss him harder, letting his hands roam your body like you’ve never touched eachother before.

Despite the nights he’s dragged a delicate touch along your back and the skin over your waist, it’s nothing compared to this. It’s like you’ve never felt him before. The way his tongue glides against the roof of your mouth skilfully, and firm yet gentle hands are palming the flesh between your ass and thighs.

He’s wasted no time roaming and squeezing every inch of your skin, even over clothes he’s desperately trying to commit it to memory. Rubbing over the swell of your ass like you’re the only thing in the world he wants this bad.

“Harry.” There it was, his name.

The way it falls from your kiss swollen lips in that same pretty plea that sends him spiraling every single time. Yet it was so, so different in this moment.

Sheer pleasure courses through him, and he pulls your leg up to bracket his hip, letting him push himself closer into you. Imagining what lay between the peak of your thighs.

Wishing to see the state of you, wondering if this situation has worked you up to the same extent as him.

You can feel him, every inch. Every hard slab of muscle is pressed into you, warmth radiating off him like rays of the sun.

“My name.” He murmurs into your lips, “Say it again.”

His kiss trails down your neck, sucking gently over your pulse before licking a stripe back up your throat. His saliva leaving a hot, wet trail behind.

“Harry, please… more.” You don’t even have to try, the words all come from your mouth like it’s your only purpose.

His prick is swollen in the black trousers he’s in, shamelessly being pushed into your thigh. The feeling, it’s like heaven. You don’t have any single other way to explain it.

He’s behind layers of clothing and he’s pretty sure this is better than any sex he’s ever had.

Your little experience with genuine sexual interactions has not stopped you at all. And reflecting on every past experience of a sexual nature, they fall incomparably flat to this.

Despite the majority of them being unwanted advances, even the few you engaged in— mostly with random strangers at ballroom parties— were nothing to this.

They took place in dim hallways and in secluded gardens, the kisses were always slimy, laced with the intention of taking anything from you they feasibly could. You always stopped it when you released you felt no desire to go further.

This, however, was happening because no matter how hard you both attempted to deny it, you both wanted it. Wanted eachother.

And this time, all you felt was desire.

Your hand comes down to suddenly cup the bulge of his cock between you. He moans at the feeling, rocking into your palm shamelessly.

“Fuck— I could come jus’ like this. Against your innocent little hand…” he curses into your neck, making your mind swirl with his lustful and dirty words.

“Tha’s no fun though.” He amends, swollen lips coming up to your ear, “Not when I could take you back to our bed…”

Our bed… your hazy brain notes, trying to commit it to memory as his tongue drags lightly over the shell of your ear.

“I could leave your hands free, so you could lace them into my hair. Pulling on it like I know you would while I lick into you, Angel.”

“Or would you prefer them bound up against the headboard? Just as we’ve always joked, all tied up. At my mercy.”

“Please… Harry.” Your whole body feels like it’s been set alight, the pulsing between your legs so intense it made your knees weak.

“Please what, dove? Or you don’t care? As long as someone is looking after that pretty place down here, hmm…”

His hand meets the fabric between your legs, both of you now rutting into each others palms.

You can’t help but whine, “it hurts… Harry. Fuck…”

He shakes his head, leaning in to kiss your lips. He can’t believe you’re so worked up you’re telling him its physically hurting you. He thought it was just him, with his cock so hard he is bordering on being in pain.

“Cmon,” he starts to pull you back, your body leaving the dangerous edge of the boat.

But you hardly can figure out how to walk, almost like a little spring doe. Knees struggling to function.

He picks you up effortlessly by your thighs, wrapping them around his waist. Your arms naturally draping over his broad shoulders, tangling into his messy brown hair.

You whine and push into his chest without any thought. Attempting any kind of friction you can, causing his to laugh. His eyes finding yours, “you’re so needy you’re grinding against my chest…”

His long legs make quick distance across the boat, out of the cool wind and through the winding halls below deck.

Thankfully not running into a soul as he enters his room with you, locking the door swiftly behind him.

The second the latch flicks in place, his lips are back against yours. The kiss is sloppy and desperate, open mouths pushing against eachother like you’ve been apart for weeks.

You’re moaning into his mouth as he squeezes your ass in the dark room. Walking over to his bed, still holding you against him as he climbs atop the mattress.

He lets your back drift down until it meets the plush comforter, but your legs still elevated by his. Ass against his thighs, and his erection tightly pushed against you.

He follows your lips the whole way down, hands rolling up and down your body, lingering against your breasts as he nicks your bottom lip with his teeth.

“This okay?” He breathes out, making sure you’re alright.

“Yes…” You nod, responding without even a second between his question.

He soaks up the feeling that swells in his chest as you consent to him. You said it without an ounce of hesitation. He’s almost feeling honoured.

“This is on your terms, my Princess… you tell me to stop and I stop.”

My. Your brain struggled to compute his possessive words.

My Princess.

You drag your hands up his back, sliding them all the way to his cheekbones.

Your eyes find his.

They lock with intensity. Green gaze piercing into your soul.

Silence ticks over between you, only filled by the panting of your breaths.

Your thumb slips down to his plump lips, pulling down his bottom one. The pad of your finger tracing over its fullness, dipping into the wetness that coats it.

He allows it, eyes fluttering at the gentle yet seductive touch.

He is so gorgeous.

When your thumb is wet with his saliva, you bring it back down to your mouth. He watches you, the action so small yet so utterly filthy as you draw your finger into your mouth. Taking it between your own lips and sucking it clean.

Once you draw it out of your mouth, you keep your big eyes looking at him, “You have my permission, Captain.”

He curses at your words, and they kick him back into gear. His body folds over yours again, meeting your lips with his— fuelled with a fever that makes his head spin.

He tastes like whiskey, and you feel simply drunk off of it. You want to drink him up. He is the warm, tingly feeling in your throat after throwing back a shot of the brown liquor.

His mouth moves down your neck again, kissing and licking as far as your clothes will allow. He gets to the very top of your chest before the fabric gets in the way. Having half the mind to just mouth over your nipple anyway.

But, it’s the satisfaction that’s to come with stripping it off of you. The very clothes he bought.

Fingers shuck the material up over your chest, and your arms lift up instinctively to help him get it off. He’s surprised to see you were without a bra.

There you lay, arms up above your head, back arched against the mattress, and your beautiful chest on display for him.

“Oh, dove… you are a work of art.” He coos, hands immediately coming to run against the soft skin of your breasts.

He stares intently in the dark, suddenly asking, “Can I light a candle?”

His voice is hasty, “I can see you, but not s’well as I would if there was a bit of light.”

“Want t’see your skin coated in that warm light,” he leans down, voice dropping into a whisper, “and so I can watch y’nipples harden when I wrap my mouth ‘round them.”

You nod quickly as you speak a desperate yes, squirming at the idea.

It would be unfair for you also, not to see his chest and tattoos while you two did whatever this was together.

He pecks a chaste kiss over your lips.

“Thank,” kiss.

“…you.” another gentle kiss.

He slides upright, struggling to tear his eyes off of you as he fumbles for a match to light the candle on the sconce mounted to his wall.

You hear the match flick alight, and the room suddenly being cast on a golden glow as he brings the flame to the wick.

Discarding of the match, he wastes no time coming back to where you lay— hair fanned out underneath you. He stands at the edge of the bed, staring breathlessly at you.

He had hummed the second he saw you—properly saw you. Your cheeks are flushed red, beautiful brows upturned into an expression of sheer want.

“Let me take yours off,” you gesture with your eyes to his own shirt, “please?”

“C’mere then.”

You bring yourself up, knees to the edge of his bed. Your hands lift the purple fabric over him, and suddenly the tan, chiseled skin you eye off so often is finally yours to freely touch.

Tattoos and muscles, fine hairs and freckles, he is the embodiment of beauty and sex.

You run soft hands over his abs, the muscles almost rippling as he feels the skin to skin contact. Throwing his head back, he groans into the tension filled air.

Hands wrap around your bare waist, pulling you flush against him, chest to chest.

He follows through with exactly what he’d said moments earlier, kissing a trail down to your breasts before wrapping his soft mouth around the peak of one of them.

Wet and hot, his tongue sucks and swirls until you’re moaning embarrassingly loud. You react like you’ve never felt someone like this before, because truthfully, you hadn’t.

Your spine arches, pushing into his mouth and lacing your hands around his neck.

He pulls away, smirking at the hardened nipple he’s looking after, while you catch your breath.

“My turn.” You whispered, and despite your legs feeling like jelly, you kiss your own way down his chest until you meet his defined pectoral muscle.

Your lack of experience doesn’t show, you’re so eager to please him it makes you only confident. You lick against the warm skin of his chest, lulling your tongue over his own nipple— something a girl has never done to him before.

“Fuck—!” He bites out, teeth clamping down onto his lower lip.

You pay some attention to it before trailing up his shoulder, sucking the skin above his collarbone. Biting against it and making sure to leave a mark.

He slaps lightly at your ass, still covered in tight black pants, just as he is.

“You are so filthy, dove.” His voice lilts, dripping with honey,

“Who would’ve known… to look at you, no one would know you’re the kind of girl that’s going to wrap her hot little mouth on any skin she can.”

“Innocent thing you are, ready to do anything, hm?”

His nose nudges yours so he can get better access to your mouth, kissing into it again.

Merely minutes since he last had his lips on yours, and it feels like the first time all over again. It strikes and stirs hot in your stomach. Making you arch into him again, pressing your chest against his.

“So needy… you must be soaked…” his thoughts spill from his lips out loud.

“Panties that I bought you are probably wet through by now, little cunt all weepy for something it’s never had.”

“D’ya want it, baby?” His sultry voice asks.

“Harry, I want it, I want you.” You plead, and he unbuttons your black pants.

The zipper is pulled down by him, and he slides his hand in between your legs. Cupping over the fabric, it’s almost hot to touch.

“So warm in there, I can feel y’clenching around nothin’.”

He rubs softly over you, and you moan out, rutting into his hand.

His lips kiss you hot and slow as he runs tedious circles over the top of your panties.

Once you’re moaning and arching into him, he slowly retracts his hand out, “get in the middle of the bed.”

You follow his instructions moving to lay in the centre of his mattress as he shucks his pants off.

He’s in nothing but boxers as he climbs above your legs, “No one else has ever made you come, have they?”

His green eyes lock with yours,

“N-no.”

“No one’s ever wrapped their lips around your swollen clit and sucked until you finish against their tongue? Or fucked their fingers into you until you are almost crying?”

You can’t even verbally answer, only able to shake your head side to side.

“Mm, okay,” he hums, lowering down to kiss your belly as he slowly pulls your pants down from your legs.

A smirk rises on his lips as he kisses below your navel, “Then I take it no one’s ever pushed their cock into you?”

Your cheeks were burning as you squeezed your thighs together, only in black lacy panties that he bought you.

“Alright baby,” he smirks, “look at you then, in this little pair of black underwear I got ya. Did you think about what was going through my head as I picked them out?”

“Never thought I’d be privledged enough to see y’in them.”

The warm candle highlights the goosebumps that have already prickled over your skin, each kiss he’s pressed to your bare body has made them spread like wildfire.

He takes his time to tease you, lips lulling over your lower stomach, tongue tracing the upper band of your underwear.

This continues until you’re begging him for anything, “I can’t— h— fuck… Harry.”

Your speech is slurred like you’re half awake, “Please touch me.”

“I am touching you.” He stated, green eyes flickering up to yours, face with devilish intent.

“More…” was the only word you could sigh out to him, unable to hold eye contact with him for longer than a second.

His hand comes to the back of your knee, pushing it up so your legs spread. He licks a slow, pleasing stripe against the dip between your thigh and where you want him the most.

Your hips jut upwards, and his fingers trace over your centre above the fabric covering it. As you whine wordlessly into the comforter, he tucks his finger into the edge seam of your panties. Pulling the elastic back and letting it snap back against your skin.

Not enough to hurt, but enough for the vibration to ripple through your core.

“Jus’ say the words, dove.” He murmurs, kissing over where your clit is.

“Take them off.” Your own hands start frantically pulling the sides down your thighs.

“Tha’s my girl.” He taps over where he just kissed with his thumb, laughing at your attempt to get them off, helping you get them all the way down. Tossing them over his shoulder, leaving them somewhere behind him to be dealt with later.

His eyes finally lock onto your bare body. Entirely naked.

How badly you want him is evident, and his fingers immediately move to run down your dripping centre.

“You…” he speaks, voice raspy and dripping with desire, “are a fucking angel.”

“Prettiest little cunt I’ve ever laid my eyes on. Fuckin’ hell. The things im going to do to you if you’ll let me.”

The second they glide down you, grazing over your entrance, all conscious thoughts and conscious movement disappear. Almost like a magic trick. Suddenly everything you do is automatic, like your breathing or your heart beating. You have no conscious play in it.

This includes the words coming from your mouth.

“Finger me.” You moan shamelessly, clenching around nothing as he touches you.

He almost groans at your request, “Mm, well I gotta stretch you out, hey?”

Taking a few moments to rub over you slowly, he eventually slides his middle finger into you. It glides in so smoothly. Even just the idea of his hands touching you this way has you completely melted, your back arching off the mattress as he moves in and out gently, the subtle rolling inside you enough to send you insane.

“C’mon dove, let me taste.” He pushes your legs open wider.

No part of you registers what he’s saying until his lips attach to your clit, licking over your arousal that’s spread entirely over your core.

“God!” You cry out as he flicks his tongue and curls his finger, the combination heavenly.

It’s bliss for him just watching you, the way your body reacts to every little touch he administers.

Another finger pushing into you and you’re already a mess around his hand and mouth. At whatever point he thought you couldn’t get any wetter, he was entirely wrong.

“Y’gushing around me, baby. Two fingers and you’re clenching like you could finish jus’ like this— so tight too.” His words are spoken against you, and the vibration just makes you fall deeper and deeper.

“Feel so good, Harry.” You moan out, hands finally finding his soft curls. Wrapping around them and tugging his face into you.

The scene is erotic. Pink lips against you, fingers pushed into you. Same tan arm holding onto your leg that you’ve stared at many times before.

His cock is aching while he does this to you, hearing you whine his name like a broken record as he picks up the intensity. Tongue and fingers forming a rhythm, one that quickly is building an intense heat in the low of your stomach.

Sitting up, he removes his fingers without warning as he repositions himself. You immediately miss the feeling of him inside of you, somewhere in the back of your head wondering how you’re ever going to go without the sensation.

It blips suddenly to wondering what the fuck you’re both going to do after tonight… something that would make you overthink into a deadly spiral usually. But it’s quickly forgotten about again when he rests on his knees between your spread legs, and pulls your ass up onto his thighs.

Your legs are spread open completely, he has a view of you he’s only ever dreamed of. Your wet glistening cunt in front of him, entirely his to please tonight.

You’re still babbling out his name like a mantra, mixed with a few different sighed words. Varying from “please” to “fuck” to “touch me”.

They get lodged in your throat when you watch him dip down and lick along you completely. Spitting onto your clit once he gets to it.

Fucking filthy.

You loved it.

His free hand reaches to touch your chest, rocking his tongue against you. Mixing spit and arousal together over your swollen core.

“Taste so fuckin’ good.” He moans into you, flicking his tongue over your entrance.

He’s eating you out so damn well you want to suck him off desperately in attempt to thank him.

It doesn’t take long before the same hand that was pressed into your breast, tweaking your sensitive nipples his sliding back down along your waist.

“Three,” he murmurs into you, “reckon you can take that like a good girl?”

“Yea… yea!” You eagerly nod, your own hand coming to squeeze your breast, “need to feel you.”

“You are so fuckin’ dirty… beggin’ t’take more n’ more of me.”

He holds the back of your thigh as he works to push in a third finger. This one burns, you never put more than two of your own fingers inside of you. And compared to his— size wise— they don’t measure up in the slightest.

The pinch you feel is a mixture of pleasure and pain. But your body registers the sensation that feels otherworldly as you stretch around him.

“Harry!” You whine out, hips stuttering as he slowly curls his three fingers inside of you, “Holy shit.”

He moved feverishly, showing clearly how bad he wants you to come. He wants to watch you entirely unravel between his touch.

Everything is starting to build up in your stomach, the pressure twisting and clenching. Your hand comes up to your own hair, fisting through it at the intensity.

He pumps his fingers in fast, quick movements, curling them quickly inside of you as he watches in complete awe at your bodies reaction to him. Your back is arching, lips whining out beautiful sounds, a light dusting of sweat shines between your chest.

“Taking it so well,” he murmurs, leaning down to attach his lips to your clit as he continues fucking you with his fingers.

The second his tongue swirls over you, you realise you’re about to loose it.

“H-harry—“ the sheer desperation in your voice tells him all he needs to know, along with the pulsating of your entrance.

“Don’t stop…” pleading to him, “i— im gonna come.”

He smiles against you, sucking harshly as you start to squirm and pant underneath him.

“Want to watch it,” he presses a kiss above your clit, “want to watch every second of it.”

You nod feverishly, head starting to spin and body starting to feel like it’s floating.

“Are you gonna show me, dove? Show me just how good im making y’feel?” His voice is seductively low.

“Don’t want you holding back, I want to hear you.”

“Harry.” The thrust of his hand is beginning to tip you over the edge, his words only bringing you closer.

He leans his body over yours, mouth coming to kiss over you. Trailing up your chest until his lips meet yours.

The kiss is open-mouthed and desperate as you moan into it.

You want his fingers as deep as they can possibly fit into you, and you suddenly are verbalising this, “harder, deeper, please…”

“Want it rough, baby. I’ll give you rough.” He chuckles against you.

All the sudden, his pace quickens, and he’s pushing them in and out of you at a rate your brain can’t even keep up with.

The feeling of the palm of his hand slapping against your clit makes your whole body seize up, you cry out in pleasure as he talks in your ear.

“Cmon, let it all out baby.” He coos, voice soft compared to his movements.

Your moans are loud and stuttered out at each thrust. Starting to shake as your stomach tightens, “Please, please!”

His movements don’t falter for a second, and suddenly your orgasm hits you like a train. Whole body shaking as you clench around his fingers.

He even moans as he feels you finish, imagining how it would feel to have your cunt squeezing his cock instead.

You cry out his name so loud it echoes through his bedroom, all while he rocks his fingers through your orgasm.

“That’s it angel,” palm hitting your clit to make you clench again, drawing out the pleasure, “fucking gorgeous…”

“So beautiful, letting me watch your face screw up as you came all over my hand.”

“Can’t wait to have my face down there someday.”

The thought makes you writhe against him, “maybe later, hm?”

“I’ll get my tongue inside of you, play with that pretty clit until you do that all again… finish on m’face.”

He’s dirty talking you as you come down, and even when he finally draws his fingers out of you, you can’t help but want more.

Unsure if it’s just him telling you all the stuff he wants to do, or just how badly you want him in general, you realise how worked up you still are.

Not often would you orgasm and still be craving more, but right now you swear you could be doing this all night with him.

His soaked fingers run up between your chest and come to his mouth. His green eyes finding yours as he sucks them clean, humming as he tastes you.

“Fuck me—“ a sudden burst of energy comes to you, hands coming to push yourself to sit up. During it all, you’d slid off his lap and back down onto the mattress.

“Let me suck your cock.”

He’d straightened upright along with you, sitting back on his knees as he had been earlier.

His brows shot up in surprise as you suddenly had this new found energy, “baby— you haven’t even fully come down yet, just have a moment.”

“Harry.” Your gaze snaps to him, “im going to suck you off until you decide you’re going to fuck me, okay?”

“I need you to fuck me.”

“Jesus Christ.” He curses, throwing his head back. His cock is aching, and he can’t even imagine saying no to that.

“I’m gonna struggle not to finish the second you wrap your lips around me, princess.”

“You can hold it, captain. I want to taste you.”

It doesn’t take you long before you’re pushing him backwards, making his legs stretch out as you kiss him quickly.

He hums into your mouth as you palm at his briefs, squeezing the fabric over his hard cock.

You move to pull his briefs down his thighs, listening to him groan once he is finally out of the tight confines. Pulling away from his warm lips, you look down between you.

Jesus Christ.

Of course the Captain was heavily equipped.

The tip of him was flushed and swollen, you just knew how well it would fill your mouth. He was the embodiment of pure sex. Everything about him.

“Can i?” You glance up, looking at the way his plump bottom lip is taken between his white teeth.

He nods quickly, fluttering his eyes as he pictures the mental image of what you’re about to do to him. How much this is about to fuck him up.

Not having to imagine long. Your body sinks down, knees pushing back on the comforter as you half lay between his legs.

“God—“ he draws out, you haven’t even touched him, but the sight of you is enough to make his head spin.

Your bare ass and the arch of your back is all he can pay attention to as you rest on your elbows between his thighs.

“You look so…” he struggles to find the word, and the thought will never be completed. Your hands wrap gingerly around him, and although you’re unsure how to go about pleasing him, you waste no time licking along the underside of him.

“Fuck!” He spits out immediately, hips flexing upward at the touch.

Lips wrapping over his head, you just go with what feels natural, sucking the tip gently, careful not to nick him with your teeth.

“Y/N.” He sighs out your name, letting you envelop his senses entirely.

He doesn’t know how long he’s going to be able to hold out from finishing in your mouth. He’s already feeling that tightness spread across his abdomen, and you haven’t even been on him for a whole minute.

You hum around him in response to your name, hands sliding up his thighs and meeting the muscles of his chest. Selfishly you palm over the hard slabs, watching his brows furrow in pleasure as you slip further down his length.

Hollowing your cheeks you suck around him, moving up and down gently as his hand laces into your hair.

“You… your mouth is like fuckin’ heaven.”

“Could sit here all night with that thing wrapped around me.”

You revel in the idea, saliva dripping down his cock as you draw back up to having only his tip between your lips. Gently pulling off to talk, “I’d do it.”

He feverishly lets his head fall back, pulling at the hair he’s got between his fingers.

“You’d be a good girl and warm my cock all night with that mouth of yours?”

You nod as he leans down to pull your face up to his, kissing your lips without shame of where they’d just been.

He slides his tongue into your mouth, drawing across your bottom lip, “Another night baby. You wanted me inside of you, so you’ll get that.”

“A little longer on you, please.” You whine, wanting to please him with your mouth just like he had for you.

The briefs hanging onto his thighs get pulled all the way off before your body leans back down, kissing over his length and sucking harshly at certain sides of him.

Who is he to say no to you.

Licking along him, you drag your tongue over his tip before sliding your lips down him again. This time you move faster, and he is trying to keep his thoughts controlled as you fill your mouth with as much of him as you can without gagging.

“Good girl,” he moans, watching your ass rise and fall with each bob of your head.

His prick is practically dripping with your saliva, and he don’t think he’s ever felt a better feeling in his life.

So good that he can only go so long before he’s swearing, and pulling at your hair, “Fuck— Y/N I’m going to come if y’don’t stop.”

You hum around him, having half the mind to just keep going so you can taste him fully. Somehow he finds the strength to hold it off, “No, baby, take your mouth off— please.”

You slide off him with a pop, looking up at him with swollen lips.

The sensation of your mouth trailing up him had him teetering on the edge of his high, “Fuck,” his hips stuttering against nothing as his head is thrown back. Attempting to push down the feeling he was so close to giving into.

Its so hot. Watching his frown get deeper as he screws his eyes shut, all the hard muscles on his body tightening.

His hand comes to his hair as he pulls on it, the orgasm he was so close to was finally receding. You’d just unintentionally edged him.

“Y’so fucking horny.” He pants, “can’t even wait to have me inside you.”

He lifts you up by your arms and pulls you on top of him, chest to chest. You can feel his length curving against your ass as his lips come down to suck on your nipple. Licking over it harshly without mercy.

“Want you to fuck me senseless, Harry.” You moan, back arching into him as you grind down against him, arousal practically dripping down onto his cock.

“Please,” you begin to beg as he works over your breast. You can’t seem to stop the words flowing from your lips, “I want you so bad.”

His mouth moves off your hardened nipple, looking you in the eyes, sighing out a deep breath.

You search his unreadable gaze, and there’s a sudden blanket of silence that falls over you both. Maybe a hint of realisation has set in, in that what you’re about to do is irreversible.

“I jus’ want y’to be sure.” He says, sobering the intense moment.

“Think about it for a moment, okay? Just take a second.” He kisses your cheek, hands rubbing delicately on your back, “I don’t want this to be something y’regret.”

You nod slowly, pursing your lips as you genuinely take the moment to consider everything. You are about to fuck a pirate. Which isn’t even the worst part.

Still, even as you think about the situation, and all the potential repercussions, you can’t find it in yourself to want to stop.

“I know we don’t know where this is going, and we both know we shouldn’t be doing this.” You speak quietly.

He hums in agreement, his pink lips pursed as he lets you talk, “but… no. I still want this.”

“And I rarely ever get to make decisions for myself… so thank you for letting me do that.” You say, voice sounding certain.

“Don’t thank me for that, that should be your right.” He states, brows furrowed.

“Shh, let me thank you anyway.” You nudge his nose to the side, kissing him gently. Lips clicking as you both take a moment to do just that.

“I think i have condoms,” he begins.

A laugh bubbles from your chest at his uncertainty, “You think,”

Shaking his head in a sort of amusement, “I haven’t used them in a long time, dove. I don’t bring girls in here.”

“Yet here I am.”

“Yet here you are.” He hums, hoping you pick up the underlining statement in his words. You are special. Much more than just a girl he’s got in his bed for the night.

“Wanna feel you.” You whispered, implying you don’t want to use anything. And honestly, your whole body ached to feel him for the first time without a condom on. Especially since you knew it wasn’t an issue with it.

“The court mandates us to have a rod…”

He frowns, “what do you mean?”

“So I don’t get pregnant before I’m married. It’s fine it’s reversible… they can take it out. They do it to most girls incase we start fooling around behind their backs.”

“Fuckin’ Hell. I hate them.” He spits, “Always controlling other people bodies.”

“If you’d prefer to—“ the sentence doesn’t even make it out of your mouth before he interrupts,

“No baby, that’s your choice.“ His tone is entirely certain, not wishing to have any influence on your decision.

“As long as you don’t have some kind of pirate STD, i wanna feel you, harry.” You tease, but tone still genuine.

It causes him to laugh, “No STD’s here.”

“Alright, good.” You nod, mouth forming a grin, “I trust you, if you trust me.”

His green gaze searches yours, and you feel the weight of your words for a few seconds until he breaks the silence, “I trust you.”

Nodding, you bring your lips back to his. Giving him a chaste kiss of appreciation that he smiles into.

But now that you’ve committed, that sense of need is rushing back into you. But this time, it’s like the flood gates are open, your movements starting to get quickly eager again.

That gentle kiss quickly turns heated as you grind down over his length, excited he gets to feel you skin against skin.

He mutters into your mouth, “Perfect baby, every inch of you.”

Immensely tired of waiting, your voice whines out a plea, “Fuck me harry, please.”

“M’gonna fuck you, don’t worry.” He whispers, grabbing your hips and flipping you around. Leaving your back pressed into the pillows as he pulls your waist to his.

He looks down at you, hair fanned out and big eyes looking at him with parted lips. His own gaze dips to the supple flesh of your tits, inexplicably excited to watch them bounce as he fucks you.

You can’t help but take the opportunity to commit his stance above you to memory, the muscles of his tan chest and the dark ink of his tattoos. The thought of scratching your nails along his laurel adorning hips…

He can’t take you staring at him like that. He leans down to pepper kisses along your neck— finally grabbing himself, a hiss coming from his teeth as he rubs his tip along you and over your clit.

“Tell me if it’s too much okay?” He says, lining his head up to your soaked entrance.

You sigh out several words of agreement, clutching his shoulders as he slowly starts to push into you.

With how turned on you are, and his early preparation with his fingers, his tip slides into you with some ease. There’s still some tension as he pushes in, “Relax, dove…”

His voice is so deep. He’s still clutching onto every ounce of his control, praying he can hold himself together when he hears you whine as you’re being stretched out by his cock.

“I won’t last long if you keep squirming like tha’.” He screws his eyes shut, holding you still by the hips.

“Fuck—“ it feels so different to anything you’ve ever felt. He curves into you like it was fate, like every inch of him was tailor made to you.

“Deeper, go deeper please…” you beg, nails scratching at the messy curls on his head.

His brain works on overdrive to process the fact he’s the first person to ever do this to you. That you’re experiencing this with him for the very first time.

Virginity is a tacky term for him, in the pirate world it’s regarded as the best thing you can take from a girl. The way it’s treated disgusts him. But the only thing for him that’s important is that your first experience is the best he can give it, and that you feel safe— treasured even. Exactly how you should.

“Takin’ it so well…” He sighs out, finally all the way inside of you.

“Kiss me, Harry.” You say, and he wastes no time leaning down to capture your mouth.

Kissing him with his cock fully pressed into you is an entirely different experience. As your tongue glides against his lower lip, he stutters his hips inside of you. Hand coming to play with your clit as he starts to move gently.

You roll your body against his uncontrollably, wrapping your hands into his hair to pull his lips further into yours.

“Feels so good—“ you groan into the corner of his lips, the stimulation you’re getting feels like it’s coming from all angles. Like you could float away.

“You feel so good. So tight around me, Y/N.” He thrusts a little harder as he speaks, moving back down to kiss you. It’s also harder this time, both your tongues clashing against each other as he starts to build a pace between your legs.

He can feel how coated he is with your arousal, your cunt only growing wetter as he ruts into you.

“Do what you want to me.” You pant out, your body aching for anything he’s willing to give to you.

His green eyes are almost swallowed entirely by his pupils, “Fuck.”

“Can y’take it rough y’think?” He asks, nose bumping yours as you hold eye contact.

You nod feverishly, and it causes his head to throw itself back as he starts to work himself into you harder. Taking the opportunity, you bring your lips to suck against the arch of his throat.

He never wants this to end. He wants to take you like this all night. Change locations, fuck you on the floor, against the wall, bent over his bed, even with you pressed into the counter of the bathroom so you can watch it all in the mirror.

His throat is vibrating as he moans, you can feel it against your lips. You’re licking over his tan skin with your tongue, swearing you can feel the beat of his pulse underneath.

You start to loose yourself in him again, hands drawing down to scratch against the muscles of his chest as you clench around his cock. He is captivating at the best of times, even when you’re 5 feet apart you can get swept up by him.

It’s like a hold down under a wave, you can’t get up above the surface long enough to catch a breath. You don’t know what way is up or down, you’re spinning and all you can feel is him, he is the water glistening with rays of sun that fully surrounds you.

Now amplify that by a hundred and maybe that begins to cover how he feels while he’s inside of you.

Moans start bubbling out of you with each thrust, you feel him hitting that spot inside of you everytime he ruts back into you, balls slapping against your ass as he gives you himself exactly how you’d asked.

He moves his hand off your clit and grabs your hips, angling them up, pulling you flush against him. Entirely rough as he fucks into you at a slightly new angle, this on its own sends you wild.

Your back arches off the bed, crying out as he slams into you, your wet cunt taking him as deep as it allows. Squeezing around him so hard his jaw is going lax, curls on his head sticking to his forehead.

“Good girl,” he groans out, “taking my cock so fuckin’ well.”

“Knew how good this would feel. M’gonna want you all the fucking time.” Slapping your ass, he keeps the filthy words coming from his mouth, “Gonna be bending you over any chance I get, angel.”

“Please…” you nod feverishly, “Need you all the time, need your cock.”

His tattooed arm comes from your hip and runs up along your side, hand cupping your bouncing tits. Squeezing one of them, he then trails up your neck and coming to cradle your jaw. His thumb slides past your lips and presses into your wet mouth.

You don’t need him to even tell you, you just suck on it, letting saliva pool around his warm finger that’s rubbing circles against your tongue. He draws it in and out, rubbing over your plump lips and tracing a line down your chin. Eventually coming to flick his thumb against your nipple— your own spit coating it.

All of this, and you start to feel the pressure build in your stomach, of course you couldn’t last long as he fucked you like this.

“Harry!” His name started to come from your lips over and over again. Legs beginning to shake, heart racing in your chest.

“Gonna come?” he grunts out, “this sweet pussy gonna come around my cock? Drip all over it?”

You cry out as his body pounds against you, his hands guiding your hips into the movement as your eyes physically can’t stay open. You swear stars are beginning to explode behind them.

They squeeze shut as your whole body almost stops working. Your heart and lungs feel like they completely seize as you hang onto the peak of your orgasm for a breathless moment.

“Fuck—“ he hissed out, feeling how tight you’ve gone around him, “I’m gonna finish with you, cmon baby.”

His fingers come to quickly rub over your clit— a few fast, tight circles, and that is all it takes.

Your moan reverberates around the four walls of his room as you come for the second time, bouncing against his cock as your whole body writhes in your climax.

“Harry, I’m coming!” Your voice is pitched so high, half whine half cry as you state the obvious. As if he missed the fast clenching of your entrance around him.

“Fuck— fuck, im—“ He can’t get the sentence out as his cock starts to pulsate, his balls tightening as he realises he’s about to follow along with you.

He gives a final, deep and hard thrust that brings him to his orgasm. You feel the heat of his come inside of you as the movements of his hips become sloppy with each squeeze of his cock.

The strength of his climax is only amplified by you edging him accidentally earlier, he feels this in his bones.

“Yessss—“ The feeling of him emptying out in your cunt is like heaven, “give it all to me, Captain.”

“Want all my come huh, fuckin’ filthy thing?” He rasps, body hunched over at the heat still bursting through his whole body.

You both ride out your highs with eachother. Hands coming to touch eachother all over as your bodies begin to slow down. His palms skate over your breasts, and your own fingers run up and down his tensed arms. The two of you start to stop shaking and squeezing as the high of your orgasms naturally close out.

The sound of panting is all that fills the room. Breaths laboured and exhausted.

“Baby,” he says, sounding entirely out of breath, “took me so good.”

He leans down to kiss you gently, and you whine against his lips, unable to find the words for anything that just happened.

Slowly, you make out with eachother. Tongues licking gently along lips and against one another. An entirely different sort of intimacy from the sex you just had, and a silent form of a thank you as he slides his cock out of you.

He groans into your mouth as he does it, feeling sensitive as he slips out of your warmth. He pulls away to look at the state of you, something he’s not willing to miss.

The sight was something he wish he could capture forever— no matter how filthy it sounds. Your pussy is swollen, all fucked out as his come is starting to drip out of you.

You watch him stare, a prideful smirk on his lips at the mess he’s made of you. Chocolate curls over his forehead, cheeks and lips flushed a warm red, and his tan skin glistening in a sweat.

Looking at him is like looking at a painting.

He longs to lean down and clean you up with his mouth, but it’s clear how exhausted you both are, so he gets up instead— despite you begging him to stay, he kisses your forehead, “Just getting a cloth to clean y’up. I’m coming back.”

Running water over a washcloth in the bathroom, he comes back out to wipe the fresh and damp material over you. You whine at the touch, the area sensitive from two intense orgasms. Despite the dirty nature of it, it makes him smile softly.

Tending to you after he’s fucked you breathless is almost half the treat. Watching you smile back at him, how content you look. Knowing you’re safe in his company.

Once you’re cleaned up, he chucks the dirtied cloth back in the bathroom to be dealt with later, not wasting any more time and coming to lay back down with you.

“Thank you.” You whispered, now that your brain is clearing you’re becoming unsure what to do now. Do you act as normal? He senses your sudden unease like instinct, wrapping a hand around your waist and tugging you into his chest.

“Don’t be shy, y’fine dove.” He kisses you again, hand running over your side comfortingly, “just had m’cock in you, no room left for that.”

You nod into the gentle kiss he’s giving you, pressing your body to his as you feel less anxious now he’s affirming everything is okay.

As you both lay with eachother, softly touching skin, you wonder what this will change. How the after effects of this will alter the future.

You’re hyperaware standing on top of a precipice of change. Despite wishing you could act naive, and attempt to believe that everything can go back as it once was— you know that will never happen. It’s something you’re both excited and terrified of. But in this moment, with the way the captain of this ship is holding you, touching you, kissing you— you can’t help but feel like everything is going to be alright.

———

taglist:

@saturnheartz @slap-me-harry @ilovehsstuff @ameerakane20 @matildasatellite @harrysslut7 @sunflowersey @styleswiftie @anotheryoutubefanpage @straightontilmornin @oknothanks26 @closureesny @angel-upon @brother-lauren @maddie7writes @tenaciousperfectionunknown

let me know if you want to be added to the taglist for the next part<3

another a/n:

wow!! so hello

mini catchup on me being absent for literally half of last year!! 2024 I was sooo busy with my studies, but you’d all be proud since I pulled some really good grades last year, so my absence in creative writing field on tumblr did have a reason and at the very least paid off. but I missed posting soo much and I’m so happy to be back. unbelievably grateful for how many messages and inboxes I got about my writing over last year as well, I love you all so much.

i literally can’t believe it’s been so long since part 3 of pirates gold was released. really left yall high and dry😔 hopefully not after this part, I swear this is the longest piece I’ve ever wrote on tumblr, so I hope you all have enjoyed it. I have plenty of plans for part 5 in my notes app so yall keep ur eye out for that.

thank you for not only reading my silly authors note, but for reading this next part. your support means the world, and I am planning on being much more active this year so get excited for heaps of oneshots and other tidbits.

much love to you all, stay safe and hydrated I’ll see you very soon!!

P.S ALSO IM SO SORRY FOR ANY TYPOS I MISSED💔 I have reread this as much as my brain will allow me the last week, I will be making edits over the next little while to fix those mistakes but hopefully there’s not too many x

171 notes · View notes

wososcripts · 8 months ago

Text

Face to Face (V)

Fridolina Rolfö x reader; Barça x reader (platonic)

Summary: Frido has to confront that she could lose you forever. Will she act?

Warnings: some mildly suggestive content but that's about it

A/N: the final part!! let me know if you guys want a short epilogue or something :) thank you for sticking with this little series I hope you enjoyed it! as usual everything I write is fiction and does not reflect players' real lives

Word Count: 2.9k

PREVIOUS PART

You suspected that Alexia was planning something to make you feel better. You had cried through the night, and although she hadn't come to check on you, her face when you saw her the next morning let you know she was worried. She silently slipped you breakfast and gave you a hug, still not fully aware of the issue but willing to be there for you nevertheless.

You were in better spirits for practice that day. Mostly you were just happy to be cleared for play. Jona was still being careful with you, but the med team green lit your participation on Friday. That meant you had been practicing a lot with Patri when you could, wanting to be in good form. She was taking it easy on you, you knew, but it still helped to get you back into the swing of things. Plus, it was difficult to be depressed with Patri around. She kept you laughing constantly with her stupid jokes and teased you just the right amount to make it feel like your problems weren't insurmountable.

At break you spotted Alexia and Mapí chatting quietly, glancing over at you now and then. After a few minutes you excused yourself from your conversation with Salma and went over to investigate.

"Hola Mapí, Ale," you smiled, knocking lightly into Mapí's shoulder. "What are you two up to?"

Mapí grinned at you, but said nothing. You could tell whatever she was hiding had her pleased with herself.

"Are you free Friday after our match with Athletico?" Alexia asked.

You nodded.

"I don't have any plans."

"Keep it that way." Mapí replied, winking at you.

You rolled your eyes good naturedly and smiled back.

"I don't even want to know…" You muttered.

You had kept your promise and left the evening after the Athletico match free. Ana Maria had come over for dinner, seemingly in on the plan Alexia and Mapí had cooked up. You brushed it aside, however, because you missed the Swiss national like crazy. Just getting to talk with her for a night made you realize how much you benefitted from talking to her about anything. She had some of the best advice of anyone you had ever met.

At around ten Alexia arrived at your door, ready to pick the two of you up. She praised your outfit as you stepped out of the apartment, causing you to blush bright red.

The club Alexia took you to wasn’t one you had ever been to before. It was fairly small, but clearly popular as there was a line to get in.

“We don’t have to wait,” Alexia said to you, waving to the bouncer as he let you all through, “The other girls are waiting for us inside.”

The inside of the club was stylish, you had to admit. It was somewhere between an 80s dive and a modern dance club. Disco blared from the speakers, and the entire place was drowning in purple light.

It didn’t take long for you to find your way to the dance floor after saying your hellos and accepting the drinks Mapí pushed at you.

At first Patri had accompanied you to the floor, the two of you laughing and fooling around to a few songs until she was called back to the table. You could take care of yourself.

Not ten minutes after Patri left you found yourself dancing with a woman whose eye you had caught a couple of times. She was beautiful, that much was obvious, and you didn’t mind in the slightest when she slid behind you and began to match your movements.

You felt the woman's hands on your hips as she held you close to her front. The two of you moved fluidly together. She smelled citrusy, her hair was long and dark, and her accent suggested Italian. Either way, you were interested.

She seemed interested in you too, if her eyes were any indication. Her hands gripped your ass firmly as she turned you around in your embrace. She was taller than you, so you had to lean up to capture her lips in a kiss. You vaguely heard someone cheer in the background but decided to ignore it.

"Your friends seem to approve," the woman said close to your ear.

You laughed.

"Well, I know how to pick them," you flirted back.

You were having a great time, honestly. It was refreshing to be out and a little drunk and not worry about any of your shit. It could wait until tomorrow.

The woman pulled you back into another kiss, letting her hands roam across your back and into your hair. She tasted of alcohol and something sweet, maybe watermelon or cantaloupe. You made your mind up then that if she asked, you would go home with her.

"I'm gonna get a drink, do you want another?" She mumbled into your ear.

"I'm all good," you smiled, moving a bit of hair from her face. "I'll wait for you."

She smiled at you, teeth slightly crooked in an endearing way. The way she unabashedly wanted you made your heart soar. It was more than just her, it was the confirmation that this was possible. You didn't have to be hidden.

You glanced back at the Barça girls who were dancing and chatting not far from you. Patri gave you a thumbs up, as did an enthusiastic Mapí. You let Salma take your hand and spin you around playfully. Everyone seemed to be having a great time. Except Frido.

You didn't notice her at first. She was with Ingrid, dancing, though she seemed distracted and a little drunk. Her eyes flicked to yours, then away quickly. You didn't know she was coming tonight. Alexia hadn't said anything, though it was probably not to hurt you. You felt your heart clench at just the sight of her. Immediately your mood had slightly deflated. Was it impossible for you to go one day without being haunted by her?

You saw Salma notice where you were looking and she turned you so you were facing the opposite direction.

"Don't worry about her, she's just in a mood. That Italian is so into you. You should totally go for it."

Soon enough your dancing partner had returned with a drink. She pressed the back of her fingers to your cheek affectionately. "Do you want to keep dancing?"

You nodded, shooting her a smile.

This time, as you hung onto the Italian’s hips and let her run her hands across your skin, you couldn’t help but have your eyes flick back to Frido’s. Too frequently for it to be an accident. And she was always, always, looking back at you. Her face was somewhere between fury and heartbreak. Let her come and stop me if she wants, you thought to yourself.

The Italian’s hands drifted to your ass, pulling you closer until you were practically grinding on her thigh every time you moved. You would never normally do something like this, not anywhere where someone could see you. Surely even your teammates were a bit surprised. You were usually quite controlled and sweet, nothing that suggested the way you were dancing right now.

“If you want her to stop, you’ve got to talk to her. Now.” Alexia said in Frido’s ear.

Her moping was obvious now. Everyone had noticed.

You needed some fresh air. The lights were beginning to irritate you, as was the heat of the bodies surrounding you. You leaned up to the Italian’s ear and let her know that you were stepping outside for a second. She grinned at you and promised she would be out soon, after she used the restroom and grabbed her bag from coat check.

Frido saw you heading for the door. She saw the woman you were with smile at you, saw her wave, knew what was going to happen if she let the two of you leave together.

“What are you doing here, Frido?” you snapped as the blonde called your name.

She looked distraught. You had to swallow your concern.

“Please,” she took a steadying breath, “please just listen to me. Then you can go if you want. But please.”

You looked at the door, nervous that your Italian would walk out at any moment.

Frido was still looking at you with that face, that face you found very difficult to say no to.

You sighed.

“Okay.”

“I’m so sorry. I know I already apologized but it wasn’t what I wanted to say. I messed it up, like I’ve messed everything between us up for the past year.”

Frido moved closer, you felt your back hit the brick wall of the alley. There was a group of people smoking who ignored you completely.

Frido sank to her knees in front of you.

“I want to make it up to you,”

She was begging, and that wasn’t an exaggeration. You sucked in a breath, looking around you again for people who might be watching. The ground beneath you was filthy. You tugged on her hand, trying to pull her up, but she stayed put.

“Fridolina…”

“I’m serious. Not just for what I did to you during the game. All of it. I treated you like shit and you didn’t deserve it.”

“No, I didn’t.” You said harshly, the anger back all at once. “You acted like I was just some kind of dog who would come bounding up to you every time you threw it a bone. I’m not gonna do that.”

“I know—”

“I don’t believe you. I won’t believe it, either, until you show it to me. Your words mean nothing to me.”

Frido sat back on her knees, mouth shut. Now you were the one who was letting everything you had wanted to say this whole time pour out.

“You didn’t want anyone to know about us. I can’t do that anymore. You didn’t want us to be seen in public, ever. I don’t want that, not long term. You wouldn’t let me meet your family, or your friends. You wouldn’t let me stay in your apartment. I can’t do any of that. I want to be treated like your fucking equal. Because that’s what I am.”

Frido nodded.

“You are. You’re better than me.”

You shook your head.

“I’m not better than you. We’re peers. If we’re going to do this I want to be your partner, not your doormat, not your idol.”

You pulled her up until she was standing before you, not close enough to reach out and touch, not quite. You tilted your head to look in her eyes. The seconds seemed to drag on for hours.

She brushed the dirt from her knees, massaging the one she had injured for a split second.

“Come here.” You said softly.

Frido took a step forward, hesitant.

“I missed you.” She whispered.

You could barely hear it, but you nodded just the same.

“I thought you hated me.” She continued.

You waited, not sure what to say.

“Please, don’t hate me.”

Suddenly you caught a glimpse of the Italian out of the corner of your eye. She was by the front of the building looking for you.

“Wait here.”

You didn’t check to see if Frido nodded or not before you went to find the Italian woman. You weren’t going home with her, but you felt obligated to at least explain. Besides, she seemed to understand when you told her it was an emergency with one of your teammates, simply pressing her number on a piece of paper into your palm and kissing your cheek.

You turned back to the alley, catching Frido’s eye.

The cafe you arrived in was tiny, a true hole in the wall. You had been there many times with your seemingly unbreakable night owl habits. The staff knew you by name, and your order often arrived on your table before you had to say a word. The interior was a bit run down: the upholster was cracked on the leather couch, a few quilts thrown over it in an attempt to hide the fact. Miscellaneous chairs were positioned at small glass tables, many of which had newspapers and dried flowers stacked on top. It was homey and hardly anyone knew about it since it was tucked in an alleyway in a relatively quiet part of the city.

You hadn’t taken Frido here. The only person you trusted with it was Patri, and she had been sworn to silence. You had insisted that she put her phone away and refrained from putting it on her story. The last thing you needed was a million fans infiltrating the one space except from your apartment you felt was really yours.

“This is nice,” Frido said softly, treading cautiously even with her voice.

She took a look around, absorbing all of the little details of the room before her. It smelled lovely—mostly of tea and sugar from the pastries in the display. It was mostly empty except for the couches in the back where a few college students were still working.

“It’s my favorite place in Barcelona.”

Frido shifted her gaze to you, her lips curved in a small smile. The olive branch wasn’t lost on her. The fact that you had brought her here at all was a chance, a door cracked open slightly and waiting for Frido to push it all the way open. You wanted things to work too, the two of you just had to figure out how to make that happen.

You ordered for the both of you as Frido chose a table.

“Thank you,” Frido said as you placed her tea and biscuits in front of her.

She took a small sip of the drink, preparing herself for the conversation. You could feel the difference from the last time the two of you met. Now Frido seemed determined instead of scared.

“I want to try to make this work, if that’s what you want too.”

You took a breath, trying to tamper your joy a little bit.

“I do. But I hope you can understand why I’m hesitant. What happened before really hurt me, Frido.”

Frido put her hand on the table with her palm facing upwards, leaving the invitation open to you.

“I can’t apologize enough for what I did to you. I was horrible. But I want to change. I will change. I’m not afraid anymore.”

“Can you just tell me why you did it? At least something? I think if I understand how you felt, I’ll be able to move on more.”

You took her hand in yours, giving it a light squeeze.

“I was being selfish. I was terrified of how I was feeling—I told myself I wasn’t queer if it was just sex, no attachments. I didn’t want to deal with soul searching. Every time I let myself consider the fact that I wanted more than sex I started to question everything. I wasn’t sure who I was or what was real attraction and what I made up… I just couldn’t let go of that fear. And I let that control me: it was more important than our relationship, it was more important than what you felt, it was all I was clinging to.”

You took a moment to process that. It made sense, though you obviously hadn’t known Frido felt that way.

“What changed?”

You were afraid to ask, but you needed to know.

“I realized what we have is more important than the fear; and I don’t have to have everything figured out. I want to be with you, that’s what matters.”

You honestly couldn’t believe what you were hearing. It seemed like a dream come true. All you had wanted for months was this conversation. Frido had finally said it: she wanted to be with you. She had feelings for you. She cared.

“I’m not sure what to say…” Frido rubbed the back of your hand with her thumb comfortingly. “I wanted to hear this so badly for so long. It seems too good to be true.”

“It’s not. I’m here, I was an idiot before and thankfully I woke up before I lost you completely.”

Frido scootched her chair around the table so she could be closer to you. She put a hand gently on your thigh, giving you a smile. You place yours overtop of hers, feeling giddy. Your pulse was racing as if you had consumed too much caffeine. You finally saw a future between you and Frido, something you had lost months ago. Maybe this could really be something. Maybe the two of you could be happy. Maybe you could make this work.

“So what do we do now?’

“I guess you let me take you on a date so I can do this properly.”

#woso imagine #woso fanfics #woso x reader #woso community #woso #barca femini x reader #my writing #fridolina rolfö x reader #fridolina rolfo x reader #fridolina rolfo imagine #alexia putellas x reader

380 notes · View notes

ayyy-pee · 11 months ago

Text

Chapter 11 - Kickflip

Discord 18+ - Twitter

Pairing: Suguru Geto x Female Reader, Choso Kamo x Female Reader

Summary: You and Choso take things to the next level.

Genre: Skater AU

Chapter Warning: Smut,P in V Sexy Time, Cunnilingus, Phone Sex, Profanity, Mutual Masturbation?, Masturbation, Unprotected Sex (don't be like them - WRAP IT UP), Creampie (at least we're on bc), Possessive Sex, Possessive Behavior

A/N: thanks for your patience on this one! i took my time because i REALLY wanted to do this chapter justice. it's been a LONG journey to get here. this chapter ended up being JUST under 12k words omg. I hope yall enjoy!

When Choso pulls back, you find yourself chasing him, a small whine falling from your lips before you can even try to stop it. It’s pathetic really, how eager you are to be close to him after just this short time apart. He’s traveled for competition longer than this and yet, now that you’ve gotten a small dose of what life would be like without Choso within your reach, you’re positive that you never want to experience it again.

He chuckles softly, thumb caressing your cheek as you stare up at him. Those beautiful brown eyes of his seem to almost glow in the dark, hypnotizing you. You're not sure if you’d ever gotten lost in anyone's eyes the way you do Choso's. You’re so lost in them you barely notice when his lips begin to move, calling your name quietly. You only snap out of your daze when Choso cups your jaw in his hand and leans forward to press a soft kiss to your cheek.

“So…” He looks away for a moment. Like he’s wondering if it’s worth asking. But it must be because he asks anyway, “how did the conversation go?”

Ah, right. With everything that had happened tonight, and the intensity of it all, you had forgotten you let Choso know you would be heading to Suguru’s to talk.

Earlier that evening…

You’d called Choso before texting Suguru that you were heading his way. He was a little taken aback since the first thing that had left your big mouth after Choso said “hello” was “I’m on my way to Suguru’s place”.

“Huh…” was all Choso could muster.

You quickly scrambled to recover. It probably wasn’t the best idea to start off your first conversation in days by telling him you were heading to the apartment of the man he despises.

“Sorry! What I meant to say is I’m heading over to Suguru’s…to end things. For good.”

“Oh.”

The silence hung heavily between the both of you and you wondered if maybe you’d gotten the wrong idea from the voice message Choso had left you. Perhaps when he said he wanted the chance to sit down and talk, he truly meant he simply wanted to talk, and maybe end this messy affair you had dragged him into. And if that were the case, could you really blame him?

“He’s here by the way,” Choso mutters, pulling you out of your anxious thoughts. “At the park…” It’s then that you can hear the distant sound of wheels on pavement, so familiar to you after all this time.

“Oh, that’s awkward.”

And for the first time in what feels like forever, though it’s only been some days, you hear that cute little puff of air that you know as the sound of Choso trying to hold in a laugh. It makes you smile. You wonder if he’s smiling with you.

“Will you be okay going alone?” He asks.

Would you? You were nervous, of course. You’d become accustomed to having Suguru in your life regardless of how awful he was. But you had no doubt in your mind that this needed to happen. In order to secure your future, in order to show the man on the other end of this call that you were serious about him, you needed to do this – alone.

You inhale deeply, trying to steel your nerves. “Yeah. I– It’s gonna suck, but I’m ready to let this go…to let him go.”

You hear Choso hum distantly on the other end, followed by a light tapping noise just before you feel your phone vibrate. Oddly enough, it’s a text from Choso.

ChoCho: It’s getting weird. He thinks I don’t see him watching me from across the park.

ChoCho: I’m gonna hang up. Good luck over there. Come meet me here when you’re done? We can talk.

The line goes dead…

You shake your head, bringing yourself back to the present. Choso’s question echoes in your thoughts. “How did the conversation go?”

“Not well,” you finally answer. “But that’s not my problem anymore.”

To this, Choso hums. “No, not anymore. Are you alright, though?”

Choso’s voice is gentle when he speaks, concern evident in his tone. He’s still holding your cheek, eyes scanning your face and your hand comes up to hold his wrist. You nod.

He is so perfect. You wish you had realized it sooner. You would have saved yourself, but more importantly Choso so much pain.

“Yeah, I’m fine. Just…” Your words are failing you now, at the worst moment and you bite down on your lip as you try to gather your thoughts. Choso waits patiently for you, as always, and it makes you bite down just a bit harder. You know you don’t deserve him. You’re the lucky one here; the real winner between this fucked up love triangle you’ve been forcing everyone into over the last few months.

His dark, piercing eyes bore into yours, and the kindness and care you see in them makes you tear up. The tears prickle along your waterline and you almost want to throw your arms around his neck so you can bury your face and hide your tears there.

“I’m so sorry, Choso,” you breathe shakily. He holds your gaze steadily. He’s always steady. Never wavering. The security he provides you only makes you more emotional and you have to swallow down the sob that's threatening to come. “Really…I can’t even begin to tell you how fucking sorry I am.”

“You have no reason to be sorry.”

“Stop, I do!” You argue, voice rising. He always gives you grace, always finds a way to make it seem like you weren’t a piece of shit stringing him along. He’s only ever truly been upset with you once, that you know of - the day of the photoshoot. It was the first time you’d seen Choso lose his composure, really show how upset he was with you and this whole situation.

And while you want to tell him to yell at you, stop excusing your actions, to be angry with you – because honestly, he should be furious with you – you know better than anyone by now that Choso wears his heart on his sleeve. What he feels in the moment, you’ll see, without hesitation. So, you inhale deeply, calming yourself before you continue. The last thing you want to do is turn this into some big spectacle, although there’s no one around to actually witness it this late at night.

“I’ve been dragging you along all this time, Choso. And you…you’ve been so patient and so kind and understanding when you didn’t have to be. I’m just…so sorry.”

Choso purses his lips as he takes your hand in his and squeezes softly. “I chose to stick around because I wanted to.” He brings your hand up to his mouth, presses his lips gently to your palm with a sweet kiss. “Because you were worth it.” Another kiss to your hand. “I just needed you to realize you were worth it, too.”

Your vision blurs, hot tears falling from your eyes and rolling down your cheeks. You don’t want to cry in front of Choso. You don’t deserve to cry in front of him, but when you left Suguru’s and rushed to the park, you didn’t have much hope. You fully expected Choso to tell you he was done with you, that this was over.

You’d expected a “thanks for ending it with that loser, but it’s too late”. And you would have had to swallow that and accept it. It would have simply been your karma. So to be sitting here with Choso who sprinkles kisses along your skin…Well, the overwhelming thought of the night ending very differently has your emotions running wild.

Heat rises to your cheeks as you meet Choso’s gaze. His eyes have hardly left yours for a moment, even as he places delicate little pecks to your wrist, up your forearm. He leans forward, lips continuing their path as he kisses your shoulder. You tilt your head to the side so he has the space to trail those sweet kisses up your neck. And then he’s running his lips along your jaw, up your cheek.

The skatepark is empty, the only evidence of anyone around being the soft sighs from Choso and your quiet gasps when his lips touch the spots he knows make your knees weak.

And even in this wide open space, the air inside the little bubble that you and Choso reside in already feels thick with desire. With the way Choso licks at the most sensitive areas of your neck, groans quietly against your skin, you have an idea of where this night is soon to be headed.

You’re ready.

“Cho–”

You don’t have the opportunity to finish, the sound of Choso’s broken name falling uselessly between you as Choso seals his mouth over yours. Every kiss is tender, almost hesitant. It’s careful.

Just so Choso.

And that’s all that’s on your mind; the incredible man before you – Choso…

…who cups your cheek so gently as he pulls away and he asks…

“Will you…” A whisper into the kiss, and your brain is still stuck on Choso…

…whose soft lips caress yours again, just for a moment before he speaks once more…

“Come…”

You’ll go anywhere with him. Anywhere with Choso…

…who kisses you again, more passionately this time.

“Back to my place?”

And you nod without delay, because you have only a single thought rattling around in that head of yours…and it’s Choso.

- - - - - -

The air seems to have only gotten thicker between the two of you.

Choso had offered to follow you home, waited for you to pack your things and take you back to his place. It was then that the mood truly began to shift. From the moment you’d slid into the passenger seat of Choso’s car, it became a matter of whether or not you and Choso would even make it through the threshold of his home without tearing the other’s clothes off, the unspoken anticipation slowly eating at both your patience.

After placing your bag in the back of his car, Choso leaned over to grab the seat belt and buckle you in.

It wasn’t as if that was the first time Choso had done that for you. He always made sure to get the door for you, strap you in, ensure your safety. But this time, as Choso pulled the belt around your body, hand lingering so close to your chest, there was this spark of electricity between you that felt so intense, you could swear you heard it buzzing throughout the vehicle, felt it tingling along your skin. You know Choso felt it, too. You could see the way his Adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed thickly, and how he was careful not to touch you when he quickly secured the belt around you and clicked you in before putting the car in gear and driving off.

It happened once more when you finally pulled up to Choso’s house. Too in your own head and not paying attention, you’d opened your car door without looking only to run straight into Choso’s hard chest. He caught you easily, both arms wrapping around your waist to hold you steady while your palms rested flat against his pecks.

And there was that buzz again, radiating heavily between the two of you. The spark had always been there between you and Choso. This low, constant hum that kept steady. But tonight…tonight, this electricity felt dangerous, in the most exciting way.

You watch Choso’s gaze drift to your mouth, watch how his tongue pokes in his cheek. He’s kissed you already tonight, but he seems hesitant now. His hands grip onto the fabric of your clothes like he wants to pull you into him but he’s resisting the urge.

Maybe he thinks you’re not ready to take the next step with him. Or maybe he’s trying to take things slow for his own sake. Knowing Choso, he probably doesn’t want to give you the wrong idea. Doesn’t want you to think he only asked you to stay over because he’s trying to sleep with you. Another thing you really like about him, but you don’t give a shit about that right now.

Your heart is racing, pounding against your ribcage in anticipation. You’ve only got eyes for this man and you want him to wreck you. And it’s apparent he wants to do the same. You see the desire in his eyes, the way his pupils are so dilated his eyes are practically black as he stares down at you.

Your pulse quickens the longer you match his gaze. Then you finally speak, a hushed “I’ve been thinking about you all day.”

“Yeah?” Choso asks. You feel his hands tracing up and down your spine and your skin ignites with goosebumps.

“Yes.”

“And what exactly were you thinking?” His voice comes out rougher, raspier than normal and it only sets the small fire in your core ablaze.

“That I couldn’t wait to be with you…be alone with you.”

“Hmm.” His tongue slides along his bottom lip and your eyes snap down to the motion.

You want to kiss him again, taste his tongue on yours and have him taste you.

“Do you want me?” He questions. His hand slowly slides down to rest on the small of your back and just his touch has you so turned on you have to bite your lip to keep from moaning out into the night.

“So badly, Choso,” you confess. Choso watches you squirm beneath his touch, trying to contain yourself. He’s trying to do the same, but he’s slowly losing the battle.

Every time you speak, every time you peer up at him with those pretty eyes and even prettier lips, he’s that much closer to losing himself to you. And he knows he will lose himself in you once he has you completely. Your taste has haunted Choso since spending your first night together. The memory of your mouth on him has taken over his thoughts more times than he can count. He daydreams of you constantly.

He needs you.

Choso releases his hold on you, then reaches into the back seat of his car and grabs your overnight bag. “We should get inside then.” He tells you. He swiftly turns around and you practically run after him, following him towards the entrance.

When you reach the front door, Choso lays his hand on the doorknob. Instead of turning it, he pauses briefly, then turns to you. And his stare shoots straight to your core. It reminds you of the very first time you’d ever been intimate with each other. Your cheeks warm and your heart thrums excitedly in your chest. You don’t dare look away.

Time seems to stand still, even as Choso pushes the door to his home open. Even as he takes your hand in his and lifts it to his lips, eyes still locked onto yours.

And your head swims once again with nothing but thoughts of Choso…

…who has never been anything but patient, kind and gentle with you…

…which is why it shocks you just a bit when Choso roughly slams his bedroom door, pinning you between it and his large body. His lips capture yours hungrily, greedily, desperately. Like kissing you is what keeps his heart beating. Your thoughts are foggy, Choso the only thing on your mind. You feel lightheaded from the intoxicating way Choso kisses you right now. You think you’ll float away if he stops.

He breaks the kiss, groaning when you take his bottom lip in your teeth and suck lightly. “Can I ask you something?” He mutters when you release him. There’s a crimson hue that has now appeared on Choso’s cheeks and spread to the tips of his ears. It’s so cute.

You make a mental note that it seems when Choso is feeling shy or nervous, that’s where he blushes the hardest.

“Anything,” you answer easily.

Choso bites down on his lip, looking you over. When his eyes settle on yours again, there’s something different in them, something hungry. His gaze falls back to your mouth and your breath hitches in your throat when you feel Choso gently press his thumb to your lips. You hear his sharp intake of breath, thumb gently caressing along your bottom lip.

Then he kisses you, his thumb still on your lips, like he’s so desperate to taste you that he couldn’t be bothered to move it. It’s quick, one or two pecks and then he’s back to absentmindedly watching his thumb stroke along your mouth again.

Every kiss is becoming more and more dizzying, has your heart beating so fast, and so hard that you think if Choso leans just an inch closer, he’ll be able to hear it.

And if only you knew that if you leaned just an inch closer, you would hear his own heart clawing at his ribcage as he asks, “Are you mine now?”

Your hands find Choso’s chest and you ball the fabric between your fists, confident when you answer him. “Yes.”

And it’s true; you’re his.

But your answer doesn’t satisfy the man before you just yet. You see it in the frown line that forms between his brows, in the way his eyes stare into yours, searching.

“I need you to say it,” he demands. His large hands grip your waist now, and he’s leaning forward to press his forehead to yours, eyes drifting shut as he inhales deeply. “I need to hear you say that you’re mine now…just mine. Nobody else’s…” Choso’s hold tightens, only slightly. “Because you have no idea how much I want you right now. I want…” He pauses, taking another deep breath. “No, I need you to be mine. I won’t share you again.”

Your pulse picks up, the need in Choso’s voice only making your heart slam faster, if that’s even possible. You loop your arms around Choso’s neck, pulling him down just enough for your lips to touch. You want him to hear it when you say it. You want him to feel it when you say it. Feel it against him, feel it in him. And know that you mean it.

“I’m yours, Choso,” you whisper against his lips, and you can feel him melt into your embrace, a heavy sigh leaving him as he presses himself into you. “Only yours.”

Choso’s mouth finds yours, lips slotting against you, greedily swallowing every moan you let out as his hands trace a path to your waistband. He toys with the fabric between his fingers for a while, his lips now busy kissing and sucking what you’re sure are marks into your neck. This is a side of possessiveness you haven’t seen in Choso before.

It’s so fucking arousing. The way Choso tugs at your waistband, how he nips at the skin on your neck just before he runs his tongue over the mark to soothe the sting. You’re whimpering with every bite. You’re so painfully turned on, you can’t help but to push your hips forward, meeting Choso’s hard length confined within his pants. Then it’s Choso’s turn to whimper, face buried in your neck as he meets your hips, pressing himself into your groin again and again.

Choso wants to have you so badly, he can’t think straight right now. All he knows is that he wants you, and you want him. That you told him you’re his, and he’s always been yours. His heart swells with this news. This type of happiness is foreign to him, but he wants to get used to it…with you.

He kisses his way down to your collarbone, where he sucks new marks as his hips continue to grind into yours, pressing you harder and harder against the door. Your skin, your sweat, your taste on his tongue is intoxicating, and he only wants to have more.

“There’s so many things I wanna do to you,” he rasps, as he tugs at your waistband again.

“Yeah? Like what?”

To this, Choso hums as he leans back to look at you. “Honestly?”

Your brow arches, a slow grin spreading along your face. “Have you ever been anything but honest?”

“No.” He chuckles. “I always say what I mean. I always mean what I say.” He’s kissing along your neck again, pulling moan after moan from you as he breathes into your skin, “I wanna taste you, love.”

Love.

It’s not like Choso is telling you he loves you. It’s simply a term of endearment. And yet, the pet name has your silly little head spinning.

“Wanna make you cum on my tongue again.” He trails kisses down your throat, your chest, talking to you along the way. “You know the first time you did it?” He scoffs to himself, like he can’t believe that happened. “I couldn’t stop thinking about it for weeks. I still think about it.”

You sink your teeth into your bottom lip, watching Choso’s slow descent along your abdomen, where he leaves sweet smooches along the way.

“I’ve been thinking about doing it again…” He’s on his knees now, fingers still hooked into the waistband of your pants. He kisses your left hip and your mouth falls open with a quiet sigh, clearly a sensitive spot for you. “Been hoping to do it again. So please…” Choso leans over, kisses your right hip and you can’t help the broken whimper falling from your lips. He peers up at you, brown eyes blown out with lust as he asks, “Will you let me taste you?”

You don’t know if you’ve ever seen a sexier thing. This man who has quickly become everything to you, on his knees, begging for you to let him have a taste of you…

Suddenly you’re very aware of the extreme wetness pooling between your legs. You feel self-conscious for all of a second before you meet Choso’s lustful stare again. How could you deny him when he so clearly craves you?

You place your hands on top of his, pushing down and letting Choso drag your pants and panties all the way to your ankles before you kick them off to the side.

“You can have all of me,” you breathe. “I’m yours.”

Choso feels his heart skip.

“I’m yours.”

The words echo in Choso’s head, over and over until he can think of nothing else but you. Which is not unusual for him, but it feels like now that you’ve confirmed you’re his and his alone, he has this strange urge to also claim all of you.

Choso sits back on his knees, admiring the view as he cards his fingers through his loose hair. Is that all it takes to make you putty like this? Have you absolutely drenched with arousal? A few kisses to your neck and your chest? Your panties were drenched when he pulled them down. And the apex of your thighs, your pretty lips…they’re all soaked with evidence of your desire for him.

It makes Choso think that Suguru must not have been that good to you. Which is a pity because you’re so fucking beautiful when you look so disheveled like this. But that’s okay. He’ll treat you right. He’ll worship you like you deserve to be worshiped.

But he needs to pull himself together first because he’s not much better off than you. Clearly, a few kisses to your neck and your chest are enough to make him putty as well because he’s so turned on by just the sight of you. His dick is screaming to be released. He can’t seem to pull his eyes from your core, and he’s not sure if he wants to. He wants to taste you desperately. Even more so when his eyes drift up to yours and find you already looking down at him, chest rising and falling rapidly with heavy breaths of anticipation.

You want him just as badly as he wants you. And he doesn’t want to keep you waiting for another fucking second.

Choso closes the distance, pressing a soft kiss to your bare pussy and you shiver, the coil forming low in your belly already getting tighter by the second. You blame it on all the teasing looks, and the building tension on the drive over. The coil only grows tighter when Choso fully dips his tongue between your folds and begins lapping at your core. Your head falls back against the door, eyes closed tight as you concentrate on simply trying to keep yourself from crashing to the floor the moment Choso’s tongue immediately finds your clit like it’s muscle memory for him, licking light circles.

“Ah, Choso–” Both your hands hold onto his brown locks.

He opens his mouth, presses his tongue flat against your clit, and places loud, wet kisses to your pussy. You quickly lose yourself to the incredible feeling of his tongue lapping at you. He’s as amazing as he was the last time he was between your legs. Just as skilled, just as attentive, finding any and all spots that make your legs tremble even in the slightest. And he enjoys every reaction you give him. Every cute little sigh, every broken moan of his name…Choso loves when you say his name.

Because it’s his name on your tongue, no one else’s. Because it meant you were only focused on him. His name falling from your lips was honest, gentle, and seductive. And each time you sighed it, moaned it, or whimpered it, it made Choso work harder to bring you closer to your peak.

A guttural groan comes from deep in Choso’s chest as he hooks an arm beneath your thigh and puts your leg over his shoulder and you gasp because now he’s somehow even deeper. His tongue teases at your entrance and you feel yourself clench around nothing, the light taps against your hole prompting it to seek for something to enter. Choso hums, the vibrations running straight through to your clit and you whimper softly.

His tongue is incredible, skilled as it runs flat across your cunt and sends shivers up your spine every time it rubs the bundle of nerves. Your mind is working overtime trying to keep up with your body. Every lick and smack of Choso’s mouth against you has your skin tingling.

Choso is attentive, carefully finding what spots make your breath hitch and staying there until you’re crying out his name. He wants to make a mess of you before the night is over and he’s going to be sure to do it. And by the way your back arches against the door, and your hands pull at his hair, it doesn’t seem like it’s going to take much anyway.

He pushes further into your pussy, seeking better access while his hands hold your ass.

“Fuck, fuck,” You gasp when Choso sucks hard on your clit just before he flicks that tongue of his over it.

“Shit,” Choso groans into your core. “Taste so…” he drags his tongue through your folds. “...fucking sweet, baby.” Choso’s cock is throbbing between his legs. Your fucking scent, your fucking taste. He’s so drunk on you. He never wants to stop devouring you.

You’re panting above him, soft moans rushing past your lips as your legs start to shake around Choso’s head. And while he doesn’t want you to cum yet, he wants to taste your release on his tongue again. Then he wants to feel your body wrapped around him when you cum again while he’s buried deep inside of you.

With his free hand, Choso runs his index finger between your folds, gathering your slick before he stops right above your hole. He teases at your entrance, reveling in the way you tug at his hair impatiently. You so clearly want him to fill you, stretch your walls in any way possible. He’s happy to oblige. He glances up to see you staring down at him again, eyes half-lidded, lips parted as your chest heaves. Your breaths come harshly. You look so beautiful, so ready to be fucked, so ready to be his.

He keeps his gaze on yours as he presses his finger forward, dick pulsing when your walls clench down on his thick finger immediately. God, he wants to feel you around him so badly. Your mouth falls open with a silent moan, eyes rolling to the back of your head as Choso pushes into you until he’s knuckle deep. He’s grateful he’s been eating you out, the wetness adding to the ease in which he’s able to slip in.

“You’re so fucking tight. So tight, love,” he grits out, being met with a loud moan in response to his new pet name for you. Choso pulls his finger back, slowly pushing it back in and your grip on his hair tightens, making him increase the pace in which he fucks you with his finger. His mouth latches back onto you.

“M-more, baby,” you beg. “I need more.”

“Mmm,” Choso hums into you as he slips a second finger into your dripping cunt.

It’s like music to his ears. The way you cry out his name, the deliciously lewd squelch when you grind yourself against his hand, the slurping sounds from his mouth as he devours you.

You don’t want him to stop, don’t want this to be over, but you’re rapidly approaching your climax. And as much as you’re loving this feeling, you know you don’t have much longer until you reach your peak. Because the way Choso’s tongue runs over your heat, how his fingers somehow find the exact spot that makes your eyes roll to the back of your head, how your heart races when you look down and see Choso staring back up at you, eyes full of all his desire for you, it’s enough to send you over the edge.

And it does, your legs shaking violently as your orgasm crashes over you without warning. You feel Choso’s free hand grip your thigh to keep you steady. It’s so intense, you don’t even realize you’ve bent forward, clutching desperately onto Choso’s shoulders. It’s so intense, you can’t even hear the garbled cry of Choso’s name leaving your lips over and over. All you can see is white behind your eyelids as you ride Choso’s fingers and tongue through absolute ecstasy.

When you straighten back up, Choso pulls back from your core, lazily pumping his fingers into you. You’re still squeezing down on him, so tight even as you’re catching your breath. And he wants to give you a moment to breathe, but there’s this primal part of him whose patience is wearing thin.

So he stands, pulling his fingers from inside of you, crashing his lips into yours and swallowing your whimpers. You can taste yourself on his lips, on his tongue as he tangles the muscle with yours. The kiss is sloppy, a mix of both your saliva and release.

And it’s intoxicating.

It sets you right back at square one, a messy puddle with arousal dripping between your thighs.

All for Choso.

He places his hands beneath your thighs. Gently, he lifts you, carrying you to his bed where he lays you down on your back. Choso slowly crawls along your body, a hand coming up to brush his knuckles across your cheek. His eyes stare softly into yours, silently asking for your consent. Because he’s ready to take that next step if you are. To solidify what Choso intends to be a full on committed relationship.

And you nod, because you believe him. Because you trust him. With your body, but mostly importantly, with your heart.

“I’m going to take good care of you,” Choso promises, still gazing into your eyes before kissing you tenderly. “I’m never going to give you a reason to doubt me. Never going to break your heart.”

“I know,” you tell him. “I won’t ever break yours again.”

It’s a promise you intend to keep.

You cup your hand to the back of his head, tangling your fingers in his hair and bring him down for another kiss. Choso groans softly into your mouth and you take the opportunity to slip your tongue into his. Your tongues dance together as Choso slips his hand down the hem of your shirt and under, his fingers ghosting back up to your breasts.

A quiet gasp interrupts the kiss as Choso’s long fingers find your nipple, taking the soft bud and rolling it between his thumb and his index finger. He pulls back slightly, watching intently as your expression beneath him changes from tender and adoring to lustful, raw with desire as you arch your back to push your breast further into his touch.

Choso has seen this look on your face less than a handful of times. And each time, the look shoots straight to his dick. He releases you for the briefest of seconds before he’s reaching down to hurriedly lift your shirt over your head. He tosses your top to the floor, doing the same with his own shirt right after.

His eyes rake over you and your breasts, drinking in the way your nipples seem to further harden the longer he stares.

“You’re beautiful,” he tells you, now that he can see you in all your nude glory. Just perfection.

Choso dips down to press a kiss to the valley between your breasts before taking your right nipple in his mouth. With his free hand, he takes hold of your other breast, caressing gently as his tongue rolls over your nipple. He tries not to smirk too hard when your hands find their way into his hair again, which Choso is beginning to find to be his favorite part of making you come undone. He loves the feeling of you trying your damnedest to bring him impossibly closer to you.

Your head lolls back, Choso’s tongue flicking over your hardened bud only serving to intensify the pleasure already building up in your core again. At this point, there’s a nagging worry in the back of your head that you’re absolutely soaking Choso’s sheets with your arousal. But you can’t bring yourself to care when Choso releases your nipple from his mouth with an obnoxiously wet pop.

He adjusts himself between your thighs, leaning down to press a sweet kiss to your cheek, along your jaw and back to your lips. You feel him roll his hips forward, his own arousal evident between you. A gasp rushes past your lips when you feel his hard erection pressing insistently against your center, hot, heavy and pulsing. It leaves you breathless.

“You like that?” Choso questions, grinding his hips into yours once again and only receiving your moan in response. “Like feeling how hard you make me?” He dips down to place a kiss beneath your jaw. “Do you?”

Another grind of his hips. And you’re sure you could cum just like this.

“God, yes,” you whine quietly. “I love feeling how hard I make you, baby.”

Choso groans, rolling his hips forward another time, please with your answer. You can feel the smirk on his lips when your grip in his hair tightens as you moan.

“Wanna feel you, Choso,” you whimper. “Please.”

And it’s all Choso needs to hear before he’s lifting his hips, pushing his pants down and kicking them off to the floor in what feels like one swift motion. You spread your legs wider for him, giving him room to fully settle back in. The feeling of his bare cock resting between your slick folds has you both shivering with pleasure.

“This okay?” He asks through gritted teeth. Because of course he does. He never wants you to be uncomfortable.

“It’s so good.”

Choso’s lips find yours and he kisses you hungrily. It feels like hours of you both making out, tongues tangling as you adjust to finally being a step closer to fully having each other.

But when your hands, already buried in Choso’s locks, tug just right, he can’t help the pathetic whine that falls from his lips. Nor can he help the way his hips stutter. And neither of you can help the loud moans that come when Choso’s length slides along your soaking pussy.

“Ah…” You hear Choso exhale shakily above you, jaw taut. You can feel his thighs trembling slightly between your legs, like he’s trying to resist moving.

But you want him to move. So you pull him down to you, crushing your lips to his as you move your hips, grinding his length between you. The ridges of his cock drag deliciously over your clit. You press your hips into Choso’s again and again. You don’t want to stop. And neither does Choso apparently, because he begins to meet every roll of your hips with his own until it’s just the both of you exchanging moans between you as you grind against each other.

“Fuck, babe. So damn wet,” Choso grunts.

“Just for you, Choso. You make me feel so good,” You kiss him sweetly, swallowing his whimper when you praise him.

He keeps fucking himself against you, pulling away from the kiss to hide his face in the crook of your neck.

The heat from your pussy engulfs his cock. And it’s dizzying. He wants to be inside of you, but he can’t seem to pull himself away from just the sensation of your sopping cunt slipping and sliding against him. It feels too amazing. So good, Choso’s afraid he’s not going to last much longer here.

He’s desperate for you, has been desperate for you for some time. And the buildup that he’s had to endure in the span of having his face buried between your thighs, swallowing every drop of your cum and now losing himself to your pussy before even getting to be inside of it has him ready to explode.

It’s almost embarrassing to ask, but he wants to do this with you. If you agree, of course. So before he loses himself, even as the heat rushes to his cheeks and the coil in his groin tightens and threatens to snap, he whimpers out a quiet, “are you on birth control?”

You almost miss it, because your brain is frazzled, overstimulated because you’ve only just recovered from your last release and your next is coming up quickly. But you still hear it.

“Y-yes,” you answer, moaning when you feel Choso’s cock throb between your legs. And he’s thrusting against you just a little faster now, breaths quickening.

“I need to cum in you,” Choso grits between thrusts. “Need to fill you up with me. Need to make you mine.”

Your eyes widen, not because you're offended or surprised at how blunt he's being. Choso has never been anything but honest. You’re more surprised at the immediate flood of arousal that's just seeped between you both, only making more of a mess because of the way he's speaking to you. Your moans only spur Choso on, your core tightening because this new possessiveness Choso has been revealing tonight turns you on to no end.

“Yes. God, please.” You hear his breath hitch against your skin when you moan your response.. “I want your cum, please. Fill me up, Choso.”

“Yeah, baby?” Choso hisses against your skin. “Want me to?”

“Please, please. Gimme your cum, Choso, please. I want it.”

Choso digs his hips into yours roughly, the pressure to your already sensitive nub suddenly pushing you over the edge sooner than you thought. Your cry echoes throughout Choso’s room as your legs wrap around his waist, squeezing shakily as your orgasm rips through you once more.

And Choso is still fucking himself against you, loving the way your pussy is practically screaming for something to fill it. And when the sudden feeling of his own release shoots up his spine in a rush, Choso is happy to do so. You need no time to adjust, Choso dipping a hand between you and guiding his tip to your entrance. He pushes his entire length in, bottoming out easily and groaning hoarsely when your sweet, slick walls wrap around him, convulsing hard. You feel better than he imagined. So hot, so tight, so wet.

Choso rears his hips back, then rolls them forward again, sinking into you, slowly, and your body's reaction is immediate. Goosebumps ignite along your skin. Your heart races and your breath hitches as you savor the incredible feeling of every ridge and vein stroking along your walls, every pulse of his length as you take more of him, stuffing you so full you can hardly breathe. You writhe beneath Choso, moaning when Choso pulls his hips back once more before he’s wasting no time slamming into you frantically as he chases his high.

“Gonna fill this tight little pussy with my cum, baby,” he grunts, balls slapping messily against your ass. “Need to fill this pussy. Fuck, you feel so fucking good. Shit.”

You’ve never seen this side of Choso before. It’s a new feeling to him, too. Choso is certain he’s never felt this way about anyone else before. But he can’t help it. He feels some primal need to suddenly claim you now. Because he has to. Because he can.

He wants to be sure that everyone knows you’re his.

“Tell me you’re mine again,” Choso begs. Because even he’s still having a hard time believing it. He’s got his head between your breasts now, pounding into you desperately. “P– please. Say it, baby. Tell me you’re mine.”

Your back arches, hands leaving Choso’s hair to grip at his sheets when the tip of his cock taps your sweet spot. It almost makes you cum all over again.

“Oh my god,” you gasp as your eyes roll back. “F–fuck!” You can barely form a thought with the way Choso splits you open. “I’m…ah– I’m yours, baby. Only yours.”

It’s exactly what he needs to hear. Every rough drive of Choso’s hips has you crying out for him, has you clenching down on him so hard that it’s impossible for Choso to not be overcome with the sensation of his climax violently washing over him. His mouth falls open, loud groans mixing with your cries as he bottoms out once more, pushing himself as deep as he can go before he’s spilling into you, pumping you so full of his seed that he’s sure it’s dripping onto his sheets. But he can’t be bothered to care. Not when your pussy hugs his cock so tight, milks him for all he’s worth.

Choso kisses between your breasts, up your chest, your neck, all the way up until he reaches your lips. His dick twitches with every spurt of his cum. He doesn’t think he’ll be able to stop. Even as you both catch your breath, and he’s quietly moaning sweet words to you, he can still feel himself pulsing with the shockwaves of his release.

He kisses a trail down to what he’s now discovered may be his new favorite spot – the crook of your neck – and moans lowly against you, still fucking into you slowly, draining himself of everything he has to offer. “God, your pussy is so perfect. I don’t think I’ll ever get enough of you,” Choso breathes.

You laugh weakly, unable to do anything but attempt to catch your breath. Your chest rapidly rises and falls as you come down from your second release. Choso presses one last kiss to your neck as he pulls his finally softening length from you with a hiss. He climbs off of you, laying on your side and pulling you into his arms where he buries his nose in your hair.

“Are you okay?” He asks quietly, almost like he’s embarrassed about the way he acted a few moments ago.

You wrap an arm around him, hand finding his back and rubbing light circles. “I’m great.” You gaze up at the man, and he gazes back down at you, a small smirk curling on one side of his lips. You stay like that for a long while, your feelings for each other, and all the words left unspoken finally being seen in each other’s eyes.

It’s Choso who breaks the silence.

“We should shower,” he suggests. He knows there’s a mess to be taken care of before either of you can relax comfortably. “I’ll start it and get this cleaned up.”

You nod, glad you thought to grab a bag before coming over. It’s easy to agree to a shower when you’ve got everything you need right here. You reluctantly pull yourself from Choso’s embrace. You sit up, about to get up to go find where you’d tossed your things when you’d fumbled in together, but you feel Choso’s large hand grab your wrist.

“Hey…” he calls to you.

You turn back to him, brows arched in surprise. “Yes?”

But Choso doesn’t say anything. He just…stares at you. And there’s a tenderness in his eyes that you’re certain you’ve seen before. It’s the same look he had when he met you at the park earlier that night, like he wants to say something, but can’t bring himself to just yet.

Instead, he sits up, presses one last soft peck to your lips. And then he’s out of bed, in the bathroom before you can blink and running a shower for you.

- - - - - -

After your showers, you and Choso lay in each other’s arms in his now clean bed. Choso hasn’t let you go since you’d crawled under the covers. It’s cute, the way he clings onto you like you’ll disappear if he loosens his grip for even a second. But you’re not going anywhere anymore. You’re content here, where you were always meant to be it seems.

“When do you go back to work?” Choso questions suddenly. You can hear the sleepiness in his voice. You know he must be tired. It’s the late hours of the night now, and the next day is slowly creeping in.

“I’ll be off next week and then I’ll go back.”

“So you can spend the week with me, then.” It’s not really a suggestion. Choso says it as if he’s noting that you’ll be with him for the week.

You giggle, and Choso snuggles even closer to you if that were possible. “Oh yeah? What are we going to be doing?”

Choso hums in thought. “I have a competition a few cities away. You could come with me.” You try not to be too surprised by this offer. Because you’ve never received it before. And it’s nice to finally get it. Choso’s hand holds the back of your neck, thumb slowly stroking back and forth along your skin. “I’ll only be there for a couple of days. You can come with me, watch me skate without the looming pressure of getting a good shot. We’ll hang out and come back.” He presses a small kiss to your forehead. “Like a long date sort of thing.”

You think about Yaga’s advice to take the next week off and get your shit together. Breaking things off with Suguru for good was the first step, and you and Choso just spent the entire night taking your relationship to the next level. Now he’s asking you if you want to spend more time taking things further. It’s a no brainer for you.

“Okay. Let’s go.”

- - - - - -

After your night with Choso, you’d spent the week with him as planned. You turned your phone off, resisting the temptation to check on work or see what your friends may be up to. You wanted to be fully focused on Choso and your new relationship. And you were glad you did. It gave you two a chance to truly spend uninterrupted time with only each other.

Choso had won his competition, of course, and despite the little promise you made to leave your camera at home, you couldn’t resist turning your phone back on for a few minutes while he skated. You couldn’t help it. You loved your job, you loved being behind the camera. And there was something just so majestic about the way Choso skated. It would be such a shame to not capture those moments. And surprisingly, you’d managed to get some incredible shots of him on your phone, which you promptly set as your screensaver.

Admittedly, you loved the way Choso’s ears practically glowed bright red when you showed him your screen.

But the week came and went in a rush and now you’re back at work. You thought your return would be awkward, your team having not seen you since the incident at the cover shoot. And yet, everyone was warm and welcoming upon your return. Funnily enough, quite a few of your team members had stopped you in the halls to quietly thank you. For what, you’re not sure, but you guessed it may have something to do with giving them front row seats to watch Naoya Zenin get pummeled.

You made a mental note to pass their thanks along to Choso, who shyly admitted to you one day that he loved the feeling of knocking him on his ass.

It was about three weeks after your return to work that the higher ups switched up your routine. You went from taking on assignments for the skating department of the magazine to researching up and coming athletes for a new department that was being built. This meant you were busier now than ever. It also meant you were traveling more. It started as small trips. You were never gone for more than a day and you’d be back at Choso’s as soon as you were in town again. But the constant travel still meant seeing less of your boyfriend. Thankfully, he was understanding of this. Work came first, but you still felt guilty.

Just when things were starting to become stable between the two of you, work soon became the new third wheel. But you both made it work. When you traveled, it was Choso dropping you off at the airport. And it was Choso picking you up from the airport. You talked so often that you never truly felt like you were away from him.

Until now.

The higher ups set their sights on a new, rising talent and apparently, it had to be you out there getting the winning shot. So they’d sent you out of town. Well, out of the country. Apparently, it's the peak of the season right now and with so many other talents popping up around the world, your higher ups are eager to be the first to capture this particular talent in action.

So here you are, outside of the country, posted up in some fancy hotel room by the beach. It’s pitch black outside, but you can still just barely make out the ripples of the waves on the dark, moonlit water. It’s the reason you’re here, and the reason there’s a rush to get this new department up and running back home. Your higher ups want to start honing in on the surf world the talented athletes, and they are hoping you can be the one to capture the perfect photo for their next cover to introduce the surf segment.

There's a surf competition tomorrow that will be happening midday, but if surfers are anything like skaters, you want to be there in the early hours of the morning. Thanks to the hotel staff, who are local to the area and some even involved in the surf scene here, you had a lead on your target. And if your sources were correct, the person you were hoping to capture in action before the crowd arrived would be there. After much research, you'd discovered the best time to get in the water was right around sunrise, so you planned on trying to beat the crowd.

But for now, you find yourself on your phone on a video call with Choso. Freshly out of the shower, you throw yourself down face first onto your hotel bed. The sheets feel like a warm hug, reminding you of Choso. So soft, so comfortable, and you feel the jetlag begin to seep into your bones. You may even fall asleep like this. Who cares if you're still in your robe?

"Oh my god, this feels like a cloud," you groan into the blankets. Choso's deep chuckle reverberates through the phone and fills the space in your lonely room, fills the space in your once lonely heart and you can't help the goofy grin on your face now.

You miss him.

"Should I be jealous?" Choso jokes, watching as you prop your phone up next to your bed before getting comfortable and snuggling beneath the blankets. "You never cuddle with me like that." He pokes his bottom lip out in a cute pout and your heart leaps. Choso has really started showing his sense of humor. It’s adorable.

You roll your eyes playfully, grinning. "That's hilarious seeing as how you always want to be the little spoon in this relationship. I'm almost never not cuddling you."

To this, Choso shrugs, still laughing when he mutters, "Well, maybe when you get back you can hold me the same way you apparently hold hotel duvets."

"And how is that?"

"Like you lov–" He cuts himself off, lips pursing like he just caught himself about to say something he shouldn’t. But you're not stupid. You know exactly where that was headed. And you’d be lying if you said that word didn’t try to claw its way up your throat on occasion.

But you're not sure if now is the right time. Things are still so new with Choso, so fresh. Because while you've been with each other for awhile now, there's always been one other person lingering. Now that they're gone, it's a fresh start on the story that is just you and Choso. This time around you're not going to fuck it up.

You can't rush to say those words. They need to come when the time is right.

"I miss you so much," Choso breathes quietly on the other side of the phone. He's looking away from the camera and you notice now that he's also propped his phone up next to his bed. He's in a black tank top and pajama pants, sitting up against his headboard. You can just make out that the sun is beginning to peek through his curtains. Suddenly you're reminded of your time difference. While the stars paint the deep blue of the night sky for you, they fade away for Choso as the sun rises.

"I miss you, too, babe."

So bad it hurts.

“When do you come back?”

You sit up in the bed, propping yourself up against the headboard to match Choso’s posture. “In a few days. I’m kind of following this guy through the next few towns to try and get the perfect picture. The sun was already setting when I got to the hotel, so I didn’t have time to check out the beach and find where the best shot would be. I’m hoping he’ll be out there during the sunrise tomorrow.”

Choso nods quietly, eyeing you through the camera. “Watching the sunrise with another man? Romantic.”

You roll your eyes at his little joke. “Jealous?”

He nods immediately. “Of course I am. You’ll be at the beach, watching the sunrise with someone who isn't me, your boyfriend.” He emphasizes the word. You know it’s not coming from a place of true jealousy. He simply loves bringing up the fact that there’s no other man as important as him in your life anymore. Another little sign of possessiveness Choso shows now that you actually really like and find to be very sexy.

If you were with him, you would have crawled into his lap and shown him there was absolutely nothing to be jealous of. Instead, you pout. Because you hate that he’s so close, and still out of your reach. You want to be able to touch him, kiss him, please him.

And then a little lightbulb is going off in your head, an idea forming. You shift around, smirking when your robe loosens and the shoulder droops down, exposing your collarbone and Choso’s favorite little hiding spot. The one place he loves to bury his face in aside from between your thighs.

You watch as his gaze drifts down to your skin and he inhales sharply. One thing about Choso is that on the night you’d made things official and he told you he would never get enough of you, he meant it. Just like he meant everything he’d ever told you. Choso was insatiable, always hungry for you. There was hardly a day when you were in each other’s presence that you didn’t somehow end up tangled in the sheets, hidden away in the bathroom or whatever dark room you could find where you could completely devour each other. All of this time spent apart between both of your travels must have been eating away at him. It was definitely taking its toll on you.

“I really miss you,” Choso repeats. His eyes are still stuck on your bare shoulder, tongue darting out to wet his bottom lip. “Wish I was there with you.”

You hum, gripping the fabric of your robe and sliding it back up to cover your shoulder, grinning when you hear Choso huff. It’s fun to get a rise out of him sometimes. You slide the robe down again, just a little further, a little wider so that more of your chest is exposed. “I wish you were here with me, too, babe.”

You see Choso shift, a hand coming down to palm at his crotch and you can just barely make out the outline of his erection beginning to form beneath the thin fabric of his pajamas. You watch, almost in a trance as he adjusts the bulge in his pants. So unashamed, not even trying to hide the fact that simply seeing your shoulder has him hard. And seeing the effect you have on him makes your own body react, makes your breath hitch your core throb.

“I wanna see you,” Choso states. His eyes settle on the swell of your breasts. You hadn’t even noticed that your robe had begun to slip further.

Your fingers deftly undo the knot that holds your robe together and you let it fall from your shoulders, leaving your nude form fully exposed for Choso. Your boyfriend licks his lips, fist now gripping his fully erect cock through his pants, stroking slowly over the fabric as his eyes rake over you.

You suddenly feel shy, awkward. It’s just you here even though Choso is on the other end of the line. It doesn’t take away from the fact that you’re alone in this room, sitting naked on the phone. You feel a little silly doing this. You reach for your robe again, but freeze when you hear Choso’s voice come from the device, a rough “Don’t” stopping you in your tracks.

Your eyes follow his movements when he reaches to pull his shirt over his head. Then he lifts his hips, hands tugging his pants and boxers down. His cock springs free, already glistening with precum. Now you’re licking your lips, wishing so badly that you were there to take his pretty, tan cock down your throat just the way he likes.

“Baby…” Choso moans as he wraps his hand around his dick.

“What do you want me to do?” You ask, breathily. You can feel your center wet with your arousal as your eyes lock onto Choso’s motions.

“Touch your tits for me.”

You do as you’re told immediately, sliding your hands up to your chest, teasing yourself while Choso watches you. Cupping your breasts, you whimper as you run your fingers over your hardening nipples. You roll the sensitive buds between your fingers, pinching them gently, moaning in response to the grunt you hear from Choso on the other end.

“Feel good, baby?” He asks. Through drooping eyelids, you can see him lean forward slightly in bed just before he spits on the tip of his cock and uses his hand to spread the slick fluid. His head falls back against his headboard as he groans. Then his eyes are back on you through the screen, hot and filled with desire. “Does it?” He asks again.

“Ahh…yes,” you sigh, pinching and rolling your nipples between your fingers. Your back arches against your headboard as you imagine it’s Choso who is touching you, caressing you, squeezing you like this. You want him to be here, pleasuring you like this. The thought alone has more arousal dripping from your cunt and you bite down on your lip to keep yourself from moaning too loudly.

“Fuck– so damn beautiful.” Choso’s hips buck up into his fist, mouth slightly agape while he watches you tease yourself. “Open your legs, baby. Let me see you play with that pretty pussy.”

“I wish I could touch you,” You whine as you spread your legs for him. “I wish you could touch me.” Choso’s stare follows your hand as it slides between your thighs. He bites his lip, gaze stuck on the way your fingers spread your glistening folds and find your clit, gently rubbing the little nub and he tightens his grip as he pumps his hand up and down his length. Your eyes flutter closed as you pleasure yourself.

“Doing s-so good, baby,” Choso praises you through gritted teeth, stroking himself slowly. “So pretty. So…ah…so perfect like this.” He brings his free hand down to his balls, gripping the two orbs in his palm and gently squeezing. “Watch me.”

And you do, knowing that there’s just something so fucking arousing about what you’re doing right now that you don’t stand a chance of lasting much longer. You watch as Choso spits messily on his cock again. You watch as he strokes himself faster. You watch as his face scrunches with pleasure and how that tattooed line across his face crinkles every time he squeezes his eyes shut to focus on staving off his release when he gets too close.

“So hot,” you tell him. “I want your cock so bad, baby.”

“It’s yours,” Choso groans, hands tugging at his balls. “Fuuuck, it’s yours any fucking time you want it.”

Your pussy is soaked, begging for Choso to fill it. You moan as you play with yourself, your other hand coming down to rub light circles around your entrance. And you can feel how tight of a fit it will be even with your own fingers because you so desperately clench with need for Choso.

On the other end of the line, you see the thin line of precum dripping from Choso’s tip and onto his hard abdomen. Every thick vein running along his cock has your mouth watering. God, he’s gorgeous, losing himself to you by just watching you lose yourself to him. The image is so sexy, you want to burn it into your mind so you never forget it.

“Use your fingers,” Choso pants, moans and whimpers falling freely from his lips now. You love it when he becomes a whiny mess like this.

Hurriedly, you bring two fingers to your lips and slip them into your mouth. You suck your fingers, getting them nice and wet. Then you bring them back down to your entrance, the earlier wetness helping when you push your fingers in. You clench around the digits immediately and your eyes close for just a moment.

“Watch me.”

You remember Choso’s earlier request and you open your eyes to find Choso staring back at you. Jaw clenched, nostrils flared. His chest rises and falls with every harsh breath as he fucks himself into his fist. And now you’re a writhing mess, knuckles deep in your own cunt, trying to hide the way your thighs are twitching and how your head is spinning with each movement through your walls.

“Can’t wait to see you,” you tell Choso who can only reply with a low groan.

You’re so close to your end. You feel your thighs trembling with every pump of your fingers, with every tight circle rubbed along your clit. Your fingers just feel too good. Especially when Choso is encouraging you on the other end of the phone, and getting off to you at the same time..

Choso doesn’t seem to be much better off. He’s got his head back against his headboard, hips moving frantically while he drinks in the way you moan for him.

“God, I’m gonna fuck that pretty pussy of yours so good when you come back home to me.”

It’s a promise from him. Because Choso never says anything to you that he doesn’t mean.

“Yeah, baby?” You ask, curling your fingers in your walls to find the spot that takes you over the edge. A quiet gasp rushing past your lips when you reach it, legs quivering at the incredible sensation.

“Fuck yeah.” Choso’s breathing turns ragged, hips slamming into his fist. “Gonna fuck your –” He pumps himself faster, squeezes his balls harder, brows knitting together as his hips come up. “shit…gonna…ah– fucking…shit–” He doesn’t get to finish his thought, hands gripping his balls as they tighten, and he paints his abdomen with thick ropes of cum. The moan that leaves Choso is low, guttural, arousing.

And as you watch Choso’s cum leave his tip and land on his bare skin with a loud slap, you’re sent to your own peak, walls clamping down on your fingers and convulsing as your orgasm takes over. Your eyes roll back, spine arching away from the headboard and it takes everything to not close your legs and stop. Your skin feels like it’s on fire, the intensity of your release making you cry out for your boyfriend.

He’s watching you as you cum, slowly stroking his softening cock while he tries to catch his breath. And he’s never looked more beautiful. Cheeks dusted a rosy pink, chest flushed with a sheen of sweat, loose hair sticking to his forehead.

He’s perfect.

He’s yours.

- - - - - -

In the morning, the chilly ocean breeze greets you. The earliest rays of sunlight are just beginning to peek above the horizon. The waters are fairly calm right now. Not at all what you were expecting. And it makes you a little uneasy. It almost feels like something is waiting just around the corner for you. You’re not sure if you should be worried.

But you don’t have time to give to this feeling.. Not when your eyes land on your target, right where you’d been told he would be. He fits the description you were given to a tee – tall, deep tan skin with what appeared to be purple hair braided back into cornrows. He doesn’t have the look of a typical surfer.

No wetsuit, but instead baggy shorts and a baggy t-shirt, which you weren’t sure would hold up well in the water. Perhaps he only wore it when practicing. But what would you know? Your speciality is skateboarding.

He hasn’t seen you yet. His eyes are glued to the small waves of the water while his board lies discarded next to him. You’re thankful he hasn’t seen you. You’d hate to get an earful this early in the morning if he sees you skulking around. From what you’ve heard, the man is a bit elusive and not a huge fan of getting his picture taken. Which only made him all the more appealing for your company. They were desperate to get this guy featured on the cover.

You take a few steps towards the stranger before you feel your phone buzzing incessantly in your pocket. You couldn’t be more grateful that the gentle roar of the water covers the sound. Quickly, you fish your phone out and check your messages. The most important one lies at the top.

Yaga: Check your email for the next assignment ASAP. Big event for your department, so I’m trusting you with this one.

Yaga: Don’t make me regret it.

Your thumb swipes through your apps until you find your email. You open the body of the email to find the details Yaga was telling you to review. The competition header is the first thing you lay eyes on:

TOKYO SKATE LEAGUE COMPETITION OF THE SEASON

Okay, so it’s for a skate competition taking place in a couple of weeks. You don’t pay it much mind. It’s the list of competitors that catch your eye.

Choso Kamo

Momo Nishimiya

Naoya Zenin

Suguru Geto

Noritoshi Kamo

Junpei Yoshino

There are other competitors on the list, but you’re not familiar with them.

Competition summary: Individual skaters will go head to head in a tournament style competition with scores being graded by judges. The last one standing will receive a five year contract with the sports magazine of their choosing.

You wonder if Choso has seen this list. You’re sure he has. He’s a part of it, so he would have had to sign up to enter. But, your stomach twists. It feels like the photoshoot all over again. No wonder Yaga gave you that warning in his text. No wonder something felt off today. No wonder the sea was so calm this morning. The storm had yet to come.

You inhale deeply, making a mental note to call Choso later about this.

Then you see movement from the corner of your eye, your target moving to pick up his board and leave towards the other end of the beach. So much for your plan of quietly sneaking up and talking with him. You rush forward, shoving your phone back into your pocket as you call after him.

“Excuse me! Mr. Hakari!”

And in your hurry to catch the man, you miss the new text message coming in.

Unknown Number: Looks like I’ll be seeing you and your boyfriend soon. Looking forward to wiping the floor with pigtails

346 notes · View notes

broodwoof · 1 year ago

Text

forever thinking abt solas and sera as extraordinary foils of each other

elven history v. elven modernity is a big thing but just as major imo:

rebellion

solas is the dread wolf, the trickster god of rebellion and deception. we know now that it's more nuanced than all that, but he did lead a rebellion - and with good cause!

sera is a modern rebel, and what does solas do? he tries to share his experience with her. he talks about the tactics of rebellion, the choices to be made, the difficult things that lay ahead. sera listens and then rejects it and he's so confused. she's a rebel, she obviously cares about people, why won't she take it all the way?

but her reasoning is about avoiding his consequence and he doesn't even see it. she doesn't want to kill or ruin all nobles bc to do so would plunge everyone into chaos and she recognizes that. solas plunged all of arlathan into a chaos so profound it destroyed it

in a lot of ways, sera is wiser than solas, wiser about people, about reaction, about cause and effect. he went to extremes in order to free slaves and to punish the evanuris. she knows that nobles are awful and that servants and workers and all the people who provide for them are abused and misused, but she doesn't think wholesale destruction is the answer and she isn't wrong

and what's the difference? imo, community and experience. solas is such an academic, distanced from those he seeks to protect, and can be very paternalistic. sera has lived these things. she talks about how some of the red jennies make enough coin to retire and how the ones who do good are fine but others end up being the target of the jennies. she knows how people can change

also: the red jennies scare the nobles. there's power in that. it's far from perfect, but that doesn't mitigate the very real power in it. what if instead of destroying everything, solas had led a rebellion that put fear in the hearts of the evanuris? what if he forced them to confront that they, too, could face the consequences of their actions? it wouldn't have been easy but it would have prevented the absolute destruction that followed

and he! doesn't! fucking! see it! he doesn't see that sera's reasoning is about avoiding his mistake! he doesn't see that sera's wisdom grounded in experience counters his naivete grounded in an academic pursuit of justice!

which imo is all the more reason to believe he's a spirit. he had, and perhaps still has, a very simplistic view of things like this. if there is an injustice you fix it. you don't live with it and change it by degrees, you don't try to alter it at the root, you just Fix It, whatever form that takes. the evanuris are bad? imprison them. simplistic punitive justice. to sera, the nobles are bad? make them, THESE nobles, fear reprisal. give power and anonymity to the people being hurt. but don't get rid of all the nobles only to have to start the process over again

and we don't know the full form of solas' rebellion, granted. he may have tried many things for a long time. and arlathan appears to have been much worse than thedas is now - even tevinter doesn't seem as bad as arlathan is vaguely implied to have been. but he still destroyed... everything. he killed so many innocents. and yes, again, his situation was different - he talks about the evanuris destroying the world if he didn't stop them. perhaps he's right. it's not a 1:1 comparison, I get that. but they are still very profound foils of each other, and I find his insistence that sera should follow his path to be a fascinating bit of insight into his character, continuing to opt for extreme measures

#broodmeta #solas #sera #sera dai

195 notes · View notes

danaduchy · 4 months ago

Text

all texts from Judy

How's it going? ¡Hola! How you doin, V? Find those voodoo boys yet? * Sure did Hope you found what you were looking for? It was pretty interesting. Helped em out a little * That I did Helped them expand their turf, had a little run-in with netwatch, took a trip down cyberspace lane and met an AI * Didn't think you cared all that much… Course I do! After what you did for Evelyn… You're not just some rando anymore

* Not yet I can imagine * Been kinda busy As are all. Well good luck with your search * You know, same ol' same ol' Uhh… sure, alright O_O Dont really wanna get into details right now Sure, whatever works for you, but V… Take care of yourself, OK? I don't want you to end up like Ev * What about Evelyn? Any improvement? No changes. She's trapped deep in her brain somewhere. Must be goin through hell * It wont come to that Good to know Sorry, gotta run See ya

Ev's send off Hey Buried Ev today Colombarium near North Oak Thought you might wanna know * How do you feel? I intend to get thoroughly shitfaced today * Thanks for letting me know Right, no problem. Take care.

Got an idea Hey, V! Hey. Wanted to thank you again. Ya know, for helping me with Clouds Don't wanna think about what coulda happened if you hadn't been there Anywho, I think I got somethin that might help us Can't go into detes yet, but I'll holler at ya in a couple days Oh, and have a FABULOUS day! ;)

Morning! Mornin, sleepyhead Had to run, didn't wanna wake u Left you some breakfast. Eat up!

Thank you Knock knock Whatup? How's things? * I'm good * You know how it is Why? Somethin the matter? Had a great time in spite of the circumstances. All thanks to you Maybe we could do it again, just without spillin any blood :/ * Anytime Can't wait ;) * But thats what I'm good at… …True. Anyway, still waitin for Maiko to spill the detes on our meet Call you when I know more

Thanks again Heyo, V Everything ok? * Yeah, I'm good * Same as ever * Somethin happen? I'm all right… Thanks again. You know for what ;) You're a good friend. Just want you to know that Maiko still hasn't called. Should be anytime now Let you know when I get somethin fresh

All set Hey V. Maiko just called. We're all set. This afternoon, out in front of H8. Assuming you'll be there? Take care till then. And thanks… Again. It really means a lot to me.

Waiting on you Something urgent come up? Oh well, I'll just wait. Just be here before 8am

Come back Hey come back! I'm not gonna wait forever!!

We're waiting Still don't have time? We're waiting

Later then… Musta been in a real hurry… I'll try to come up with something, like, doable, but also fuckin mindblowing Be in touch. See ya soon

Umm… yeah So… looks like you weren't into it Oh well. Guess that's that then… About to finish packing and then I'm off. Buh-bye!

Bye Won't keep you long Ditching NC soon… I'm done with this sorry-ass excuse for a city Whatever you're up to right now - good luck [You have been deleted from Judy Alvarez's contacts]

Your payment Heeeyo! Sendin you the €$, just as I promised ;) Thank you, thank you, thank you for your help! Laterzzz!

WTF?! Nicely played, V. Very mature Whatever happened to the fearless merc named V? But you didn't have the guts to look me in the eyes Miserable * I was in a rush * I was really craving some fries Save it, V Don't message me again * Can we just talk about this? I'm sorry OK, I'll leave you alone. I'm really fucking sorry * You're really just gonna ghost me now? C'mon Judy, srsly? Fine, no means no I guess…

Our BD Heya, V Starting tuning our virtu - got me thinkin about you again. Got no idea how much Im digging this right now. Splicing two emotive tracks together is super hard - theres a lotta noise I need to filter out for this to come out baby-soft, but the contrast in our reactions… I mean, it'll give you shivers. Don't even have to amplify the emotional tracks. N O V A * Yeah.. sounds super cool No, it's fuckin AWESOME. And the best thing is, it's not pretentious or nothing. Totally relatable * Thats cute Cuteness has nothin to do with it, mi calabacita * Hehe, looks like someone's havin a good time Laugh all you want, calabacita. Its nova anyway * Calaba-wha? Nvm, nothing xD * Seriously? You callin me a pumpkin? Callin me FAT?! Noooooooo silly XD Nicer than callin you a gonk though Alright, I gotta go. Byeeee

Memory Hey calabacita! Still playin around with our virtu - found a still you might like

* Woah not bad Glad you like it * You enhance this? Just a teeny bit, nothin crazy Dunno, I like it. maybe I'll frame it and hang it up on the wall Could do the same for you if you want * Deffo. I'd love one Alrighty, I'll send it over when it's ready * Not really my thing, sorry Hehe, and you still ask why you're a calabacita <3 Okidokes, don't wanna keep ya. Catch ya later ;)

Helloooo Yooohoooo Know wat rymes with judy? BOOTY uh-huh uh-huh your so cuuuutee * Hey… you OK? You sound… weird * Lemme guess - you're wasted Jus out wit some ferns. frieends. * Okaaay, so you are drunk * Definitely drunk Weeeeeell… maybe jus a littl bit? * You could at least send me some stills * Just don't go too crazy, alright? * Pics or it didn't happen Sure <(((*> …fine, knock yourself out :D

I'm so sorry I'm sorry. And a little embarrassed -_- * How are ya? Sounds like you had a fun night Feel like some took a chainsaw to my brain * Maybe I should start putting you on a leash Start keeping my girl in line xD Try it, go ahead and I'll… I dunno. I'm too tired to come up with a comeback * Anything I can do to help? Nah, I'll be fine. I'm just tired. * I miss anything fun? Nah, not really. Just a girls night out. Couple substances, neverending tequila… you get the idea. Roxanne says hi, btw. Or did she? Talk to you later. Gonna go back to bed Before I forget, I got something for you. Sent it to your apartment. Sorry again… -_-' G'night

Got something for ya Heyoooo Got a lil somethin for ya. Should help get you get on your feet - who knows, maybe it'll come in handy down the line It's waitin for you over at mine - near the kitchen counter ;) * Awesome. Thanks Don't mention it :) * What is it? Not big on surprises, are ya? Nothin super special, don't get your hopes up. Couple of energy bars to keep your battery charged ;) Oh and I found a 12 gauge. Got it some time ago from the Mox. Don't really see myself needin it * Sounds great, I'll try it out * No such thing as too much iron Like a fly to ointment… Shoulda figured :P Watch out for yourself, OK? I know you've got shit goin on and that you're playin a high stakes game… But you're too young for me to be visiting your grave. Just sayin Welp, that got a little darker than I intended. Anyway, just be careful

Noticed something… Just opened my wardrobe and my favorite MaxTac uniform's gone! Someone's been naughtyyy! I'm gonna have to teach you a lesson ;) Hope at least you can put it to good use Errrr maybe I shouldn't say that. Especially when I'm not around ;) Nvm. Forget I said anything!

About the car Here's a good one - how do you know when NC's too crowded? When your ride disappears and you have to fuckin walk. ON. FOOT. Hope you enjoyed the ride. Next time just give me a heads up :P

Later V Hey V I'm leaving, V. For good. Can't stand it here any longer Wanted to tell you before, but you were gone. Sorry I guess it's better this way. Leavin everything behind, old hangups included. Once and for all Hope you come out of your thing in one piece Bye, V [You have been deleted from Judy Alvarez's contacts]

Hello from Oregon! Check this out

Hellooo from breezy Oregon!! * So is that the key to the meaning of life? The beach? xP Nah, more like sittin on my ass and doin nothin for once. It's relaxing Sorta. As much peace and quiet as you can get with my grams * Visiting your grams and gramps? Yeah showed up on their doorstep a few days ago. Dunno if they were happy or confused… Pretty nice being with family. Good people, good food, zero bullshit How's life in NC? Hangin in there? * Peachy as ever Still got that relic. But I'm workin on it * Could be better. Could be worse Still breathin. Guess thats somethin… You'll figure it out, V. You always do Gotta go. The elders are summoning me

On the road

Road's full of adventure

Hey from Seattle!

Seattle's calling! * Why Seattle? * What're you doing there? They got a pretty nova virtu studio here. Wanted to check it out from up close Maybe I'll rent out space for a couple days, play around with their tech, do some experimenting. We'll see But I'm not plannin on stayin long * Why not? Didn't leave NC just to end up right where I started. Least not right now Cuz otherwise it'll just be the same shit, different place * Where to after? Gonna head east. Roam around the country a bit Prolly wont have a sig for a while Hang in there, alright? * I'll try I'm sure you'll manage just fine * No promises Shoulda seen that comin. But I'm sure you'll manage just fine If I'm ever back in NC, we can crack some beers on the roof and you'll tell me everything And I probably won't believe any of it xP Anyway… Bye, V.

random ¡Hola calabacita! Thinking about you <3 Wanna guess what? * Wait, are you trying to sext right now? Because in that case, I'd better find a nice quiet spot… Wow what year is it, 2000? Please, you know braindance gets the job done muuuuch better. * Mmm, think you should show me sometime ;) You got it… Course, it's still not as good as realspace. * Ain't nothin' like the real thing baybaaaay Haha, true true * Yeah, think I saw something like that in an old movie once. Super weird :/ Aaaah, yeah, think I know the one. Classic. And yeah, nothin like the real thing ;) Now I forgot what I was gonna write. Ehhh, maybe it'll come back to me. Talk soon :) * Hmm… Wondering if I can do a double backflip with a full twist? The answer is yes. Good to know! But… no. Was just thinking if you were an animal, you'd be a dog. * Cause I'm cute and cuddly? Yeah, obvi… But you're also loyal. Woman's best friend and all that. * Cause I'm your fierce protector? Yeah. And the best friend I've ever had. * OK gimme a sec, there's gotta be a joke about tongues and licking in here somewhere… … you're the woooooorst I lvoe it xD Anywho, enough distractions, back to work for me * That if I were an animal, I'd totally be a dog. Because I'm cute, loyal and love to lick eeeeeverything wow Not sure if I should be blown away that you read my mind, or offended and disappointed at your crass attempt at a "joke" * Be blown away! I dunno, the licking… Please, you love it ;) I… yeah I do xD * You're complex, you contain multitudes, you can feel both at once. Haha true, I can xD

God pls no Shit Shit on a fucking shit cracker OK so… I uh, I was talking to my grams and I accidentally told her about you I'm just warning you, she might try to contact you… I'm sorry -.- Didn't give her your detes obviously, but she's got mad detective skills for her age. Honestly don't know how she does it. I'm so so sorry. * shiiiit Exactly * Haha big oops. You think it'll be that bad though? Just picture the DataKrash, that's the sort of destruction she's capable of. * Don't worry, I got this. OK…. And I got my fingers crossed for ya You do realize you can't shoot your way outta this one, right? * Hilarious Learn from the best ;) * Ugh, you win Like I always do :P So what can I expect? Basically a 5 ft 2 pitbull trained in advanced interrogation techniques But she's really sweet once u get to know her! * So I can't just ignore her, right? I mean you could try, but… Not really possible with her. * Come on, no way it's that bad I mean it, your little ol' abuela can't be that scary. Yeah… positive thinking, that's the way. Let's just say you've been warned. Please please please be nice and let me knwo how it goes, ok?

So my grams * Holy shit, Ainara Alvarez is one tough cookie I know, just got off the holo with her * You weren't joking about your abuela * Still breathing! Just got off the holo with my grams * Hope she didn't datakrash me She loves you <3 * And? I think she's a bit sceptical. …but she's always like that so :P * Do I even wanna know? Nothin' to worry about Don't think you two really hit it off Man if you two ever meet, it's gonna be good O_O Thanks for talking to her, V. I know she can be alot You're the best Just talked to my grams wow is she pissed. Take it you just blocked her? Yeah, I'm sorry. Hm, ok… * I panicked and blocked her omg Now I get why she compared you to Maiko * I can't deal with this drama right now Drama? OK… I'm sorry Listen… I know you got a lot on your plate right now. My abuela's not your top priority I get it. talk later

<3 So V… I need to tell you something. * Shoot. Just gotta get something off my chest * You're an NUSA sleeper agent And you just got burned. Bad. All you can do now is wipe your files, cover your tracks and flee this city of broken promises, never to return. WHAT?! O_O Great story, but no :P * Sounds like the start of every breakup text I've ever gotten What?! NO! Shit, didn't realize how that sounded Anyway, it's just that… Ok so you know I'm not great with feelings and stuff… But I've been thinking about the past few months and I wanna say thanks, V. For being with me, for everything you've done. And just for being you You're great. Just wanted you to know that. But now I gotta go hide somewhere, I'm all flushed -.- <3 * Awwwww my sweet little vulnerable leelou bean Jesus christ stop xD it's not funny!!! * <3 :) * No YOU'RE great. Quit it with the charm bub You're making it worse!

Yo, what up? * All good The queen of curt replies -_- Ok, well you know where to find me and how to make up for blowing me off. I don't like being taken for granted. * Stuff's been going down - I'm on a super-weird gig in Dogtown. Kay, so two things to unpack - "weird" and fucking DOGTOWN?! Start with the first. * I thought that's what you found attractive about me? ;) I signed up for the full package, so can't complain :) Not even about the expiry date…? You're really good at distracting me from work -_- We're all fucked in the end anyway, right? But I like to think that at any given moment we're both immortal - and those are the moments that count, every single time. Damn, that's deep * I like the idea of immortality in the now. It's like with animals - they don't know they can die until they're faced with real danger. Then they forget. * I don't think I'm in the same headspace rn because I'm working. I'll hit you up when I'm done :) Sure thing. Judy out. * I'm just getting warmed up Cut the foreplay and spill the detes already You're really good at distracting me from work -_- Oh, sorry Miss Professional-all-of-a-sudden I'm at work too - it's just sometimes I need to take my mind off it to not go crazy

* Can I text you when I'm done? * Glad to know I'm what's keeping you sane :) Sooooo… Whatcha doin? Nothing much - on a gig like any other Aaaand her highness has returned. I won't press for detes >.< * Probably shouldn't. Don't wanna put you at risk - better safe than sorry. Ok, putting jokes aside for a sec - sounds pretty serious. You sure its safe? Should I worry? Cuz you know, it's Dogtown - not exactly the safest place, is it? * You dont need to - I'm a big girl. Can take care of myself. I know, I know, I'll stop mothering you. If you say everything's fine, then I believe you :) * I'm chasing a promising lead for the biochip - it's worth a bit of risk. Ok, well, I'd assume that you've got a handle on things, so I won't lecture you. I'll just keep my fingers crossed. But if thinkin nice thoughts about you is any help, then just know that I am <3 Keeping me safe by sending positive vibes? A kind of hobby of mine. I take it pretty serious. Maybe something'll come of it. * Guess we'll see - maybe with your help I'll wrap up sooner…? * It works. Scientifically proven. Initiating transfer of "Positive Vibrations" Level: 500% xD Can feel something already - it really does work <3 Told ya! Lemme know when you get a free evening :* * I'll tell you later. Pros don't spill while on the job. Maybe over pizza and beer when its all over? * I'll let you know, but this one's lookin like a marathon. * You got it ;)

Got this thing… Hey, you ever hear of a case where someone disconnects from their wreath but gets stuck believin they're the person they were reliving in the BD? V, can't have this on my plate right now. Go to a ripper. What happened?? * Actually… nvm. It's nothin. False alarm Oooook, if you say so. But you know I'm here if any real alarm bells go off * So, hypothetically, say someone has trouble returning to their normal self after using a BD… that like a problem? Scale of 1 to 10 * Scratchin my head over here. New choom of mine had an accident recently. A localnet power surge overloaded his wreath and toasted the circuits. Guy's been livin his life thinking he's this BD star ever since * New choom of mine had an accident recently. A localnet power surge overloaded his wreath and toasted the circuits. Guy's been livin his life thinking he's this BD star ever since Sure, yeah, not unheard of. Could be a compulsive user, maybe a massive hardware failure… in my line of work we like to call it Dissociative Identity Defective 'Dance Onset. Or DIDDO for short If the condition doesn't sort itself out you need to use what we call the divided attention method. You show em one thing that's uniquely personal and another that represents the personality they've taken on. The resulting cognitive dissonance should snap em out of it (fingers crossed) Good thing you reached out. DIDDO can become permanent if you let it linger too long

You busy? Heeey, calabacita <3 What's goin on? How you been doin? * Hey, not bad. Same old stuff "Not bad" means "good" in my book! Which is great, cause I was thinkin… * Could be better. Been too long since we saw each other :( Oh no! My poor V, gazing out the window, pining after me! We gotta do somethin about that ;) * Yeah, fine. Johnny says hi Oh wow… didn't know Johnny was even aware I exist :P So anyway, why am I writing to you… Maybe I could come over to your place? * Of course!! Know my address in megabuilding H10? I think so… worst case I just ask a neighbor XD * Definitely! Know my apartment in Northside? Course I do. Watson's my home turf, you gonkbrain :P * For sure! Come to my pad in Japantown <3 Will do, just hope no tygers pounce on me XD * Preem idea! I'll be waiting at my apartment in the Glen! Ooh, the Glen? Swankyyy. Can't wait :-* * Yeah! Come on by my Corpo Plaza setup, y'know, downtown Hot damn, ok! Hope I won't be too underdressed XD * I thought you'd never ask :P I'm in Dogtown! Uhh… Dogtown? Seriously? Think I'll pass. Can we meet somewhere else? See you soon!!

Hola, V :D I've missed you. Can I come see you soon? Hey there :) Can I get another invite to your place? Hey hey <3 Y'know, got a little free time… Wanna meet up? Whaddaya say… Me? Your place? ASAP? * You have to ask?? Swing by my megabuilding apartment! Omw! * 1000%! Let's chill in Northside :) Be there in a millisec! * You. Me. Japantown. Now. Oh hell yeah! * Call your cab now and meet me in the Glen! * Umm, obviously. ;) Meet me at my Corpo Plaza place * If you wanna come to Dogtown…? It's not that I don't want to… I'm just terrified for my life is all. Maybe come back to NC to see me? * Sorry, but now's not a great time. Don't be mad, I'll see you soon, k? :) Oh c'mon, I ain't mad! But I'll hold you to that ;) * Mhm, calabacita… bet you know what I'm thinkin :P

I loved seeing you. Seriously. Thanks for finding some time for me. Gimme a holler when you find some more <3 * Thank YOU for being there for me :) Oh c'mon, stop bein so damn perfect all the time ;) * You know I will, prolly sooner than you think ;) Already got a countdown started :P * HOLLER Haha! Got me blushin so hard it feels like my cheeks are on fire Kisses, hugs and snugs! xoxo

Hey Jude :) Interested in hangin out? Ok, I'm all yours! Maybe I can come over? Can't just this sec, calabacita. Sorry :( I'll let you know soon tho when I'm free! You're the best! Whoa, V! Thanks for the preem ride! Where are we headed? And when?? Will we even fit inside?! Hahaha * Haha, who knows where the road will lead us! <3 * So you like it?? Phew… :D xoxo Thanks, V! This bouquet meant to symbolize our love? Y'know, lasts forever, non-biodegradable, that sorta thing? ;) Aaand you might just be the first person to ever compliment my calves… * It's criminal I don't compliment them more :-* Ok… haha, thanks for preem gift, V :) * And that's plain unacceptable! you ain't wrong there :P

Got a sec? * Hey Judy, doin swell, thanks for askin Sorry… just been shit day. Feels like nothing's going right. * No need to be sorry, was just messin with you * Maybe I can help with that, get your day back on track Where do ya wanna meet? * Sure do I'm at Lizzie's Talk to Mateo when you get here. I'll come up and join you. Roger that, see ya soon * Something wrong? No, why would you think that? Can name a few reasons First off, no enthusiastic "Hey calabacita!". Second, not one :) or ;) to be seen Third, it's rarely just one message and done with you. When Judy texts, my screen blows up in blue lolol xoxo ;) Oh V, don't you know just how to put a smile on my face :) * Dunno, just don't sound like yourself

Hey calabacita :P Thanks for a great night. Hell, thanks for everything you do. I really needed that, V. And I know you could see it… Prolly know me better than I know myself Let's do it again sometime, yeah? Sooner rather than later I hope :) * Anytime! * Can't take all the credit. Had preem time myself. Hard not to when you're around :) Just gimme a buzz when you get the time and the urge again Oh I will. But first… gotta shake this hangover… XD

Heeey, I've missed you! Interest you in a drink or a dance? Hopefully both? Hey hey <3 I ever tell you how fine you are? Whaddaya say, wanna make this city our bitch tonight? Psst… been thinkin about me lately? Cuz you're all I got on my mind ;) I'm free tonight… You? Wanna blow off some steam. Think you can help me with that? * You even have to ask?? Where we startin tonight? Meet me at Lizzie's! Just let Matteo know when you show and he'll ping me! * You know I can't say no to you. ;) Same as last time? Hell yeah! C u at Lizzie's!

A short trip came up Hey, got somethin of a short trip comin up. Won't be in town for a bit. A month max Seriously? :( well, shit, miss you already * But think how happy you'll be once I'm back ;) True, guess that helps… a little :P * The time's gonna fly by, then you'll get to see the new me Like, literally What's that supposed to mean? Fill ya in when I'm back in town. For now, gotta go.

Pick up! C'mon pick up Hellooooooooo Pick up, pleeease V? Hello? Please just pick up! Wanna go somewhere? Yo, V, you ok? Been a sec since I got a buzz from you Got some time on my hands and thought maybe you'd wanna meet up? There's this preem lookin exhibit on 20th century tech. Prolly the only chance in our lives to lay eyes on a VCR :P There's that, plus someone kinda misses you… ;) Helloooo? Can you answer please? Even one word? Got me worryin V? Said you'd be gone a month and it's already been, what, four?… What's goin on, V? Why didn't I ask where you were goin… Said you'd come back 21 missed calls from Judy Alvarez

#cyberpunk 2077 #judy alvarez

47 notes · View notes

migosis · 1 year ago

Text

after a long, hard day at work (erik killmonger x OC)

summary: exactly the title. Nyla treats her man after a long hard day at work.

warnings: D/s, smut, c*ck worship, alladat nasty sh!t, its k!nktober!!!!

When he arrived home, she was to be kneeling at the door upon his arrival.

She figured today must've been very busy for Erik since she didn't hear from him at all since the morning. He hadn't even replied to the lovely photos she'd sent fresh out of the bath. She'd oiled herself up and admired herself in the mirror. She looked so good it that it would be selfish not to share it.

After dressing, she kneeled at the elevator entrance awaiting Erik's arrival, a ritual she performed daily. She was in lounge clothes since she stayed at home today and did some light cleaning. She wore a soft v neck t-shirt that hugged her torso with loose-fitting pajama shorts that tied at her waist. Her back was straight, and she allowed her hands to rest palm up on her knees.

She was thankful to hear Erik's voice on the other side of the door within minutes. She tensed a little, already sensing his frustration from the tone of his voice. He breezed in, acknowledging her with his eyes only. He sat his briefcase down haphazardly and paced the room as he spoke firmly.

"T, I get it, but we're not folding. The terms of the contract stay the same. They will sign it if they know what's best for them."

"We wait it out until midnight. They really don't have a choice unless they want to be indebted to colonial forces forever. Trust me on this. They think they're going to force our hand, and that's not the precedent I'm trying to set."

Now Erik paused in front of her as he listened to the voice on the phone. She proceeded to carefully untie the laces on the oxford dress shoes before he stepped out of them. He sighed harshly and hung up the phone. He ran his hand over his face, and his shoulders dropped a little, decompressing from the day.

He used the back of his hand to stoke her cheek. His knuckle tilted her chin upwards as he leaned over to kiss her intently. Relief flooded through her body when he touched her.

"I'm sorry about that princess." He held her elbow as he straightened his back, pulling her to her feet.

"That's okay. I hope everything works out. Are you really sure they'll sign?"

She helped remove his suit jacket and hung it up in the closet. He nodded.

"You're trusting your gut. That's all that matters." He smiled at her, happy that he had her to come home to.

"How was your day?"

"It was fine, a bit restless. I mostly just organized and cleaned a little. I got some of the holiday decorations out, but there's a couple of boxes I can't get to, so I'll need your help."

"Baby, it's only October."

"Yes, but I need to take inventory of what I have so I know what else I need to buy. They're already putting the Chistmas decorations on the shelves."

"Alright, Alright. Have you talked to Pandora lately?"

"We talked a little last week."

"You should link up with her soon."

"Okay. She's pretty busy with the baby, but I'm sure she probably could use some support." She hadn't seen her best friend since her baby was born 8 weeks ago since they we're hours away from one another.

"How about when I get down those decorations, I pull out your art supplies?"

She didn't want to be disrespectful by rolling her eyes, so she just looked away with her arms crossing her chest. Anything that required much of a creative drive hadn't been on her radar lately.

"I just don't want you in this big ass penthouse lonely and bored."

"I'm not lonely or bored." She defended.

"But you're isolated, and I don't like that for you."

"I get out... I go to.. the store. And on walks." She tried to sound convincing but failed miserably. "I've been filming more book reviews for YouTube."

"You have and that's great. But that same community you're building online is just as important in real life."

She raised her hands in surrender. "Okay, I get it. I'll reach out to Dora."

"Did you see my pictures?" She said with an upbeat lilt in her voice.

"I did. They were real nice baby, made my day." He pulled her close to him, arms resting on around the small of your back. Her eyes sparkled at his praise.

"I can make it some more, that is, if you have time for me, Sir? It seems like you had a rough day."

"I have a few loose ends to tie up, then I'm all yours. Wait for me in the office?"

She kneeled at Erik's desk, but when he walked in, he relieved her, insisting she sit in the armchair near the corner of the room. That meant he'd probably be longer than she wished for. She cozied up with a blanket and a book while Erik typed and took a phone call. After reading two chapters, she glanced at him over the book. He was concentrated on whatever he was doing as he looked between two monitors. She strolled over, settling behind him. Briefly, she looked at the monitors, but the spreadsheets that overflowed with data made her head hurt. Knots of tension in his shoulders began to unravel while her hands worked. Once her fingertips kneaded his temples, he sighed in relief and relaxed in his chair.

"Thank you, princess. I'm almost finished. Please be patient."

Since he said please, she didn't allow her disappointment to show.

"Kneel next to me. Legs open, head down." He kissed her on the forehead before turning back to his screens. The command ushered in wetness between her legs. Her heart beat quickened with so much anticipation that she had to focus on her breath to stay calm. About ten minutes later, she saw Erik's footsteps move around her. The room was still before he returned again. She heard the book she was reading earlier plop closed, then clinking over near the bar cart.

"Look at me." He sat relaxed in the armchair she occupied earlier. He leaned back slightly, chin up, shoulders back, and arms propped up on both sides of the chair. His button-up was untucked, the first few buttons undone, and the tie he'd worn earlier was no longer confining his neck. He beckoned her to come to him with one hand motion.

She crawled over to where he sat, maintaining eye contact with him. He admired her as she kneeled before him. She smelled the bold amber liquor in the tumbler Erik sipped on.

"Would you like a taste?"

"Yes, sir." He held the glass to her lips for her. When he pulled the glass away a few dribbles flowed down her lips. Erik caught them with his tongue before they could even reach her chin. His lips enveloped hers, demanding entrance. She allowed his tongue to survey her mouth, their tongues wrestling like this until they were out of breath. Erik's hands groped her breast, which made her nipples press firmly against the fabric of her shirt. When his lips left hers, she let out a small breathy moan.

"Take this off." When her top half was exposed, she grasped her breasts roughly as she bit her lips, demonstrating how needy she was.

"That's my job, hands at your knees."

She whined but the sounds soon turned into pleasurable hums as his lips sucked her nipples. He nipped at her flesh with his teeth, it causing her stir underneath him. From the table beside him, he picked up a ball gag and brought it to her pink lips, already plump from their kissing. When she did not open her mouth him he looked at her curiously.

"What is it?"

"I don't wanna wear that. I just want to taste you." She placed her hand on his knee, brushing against the fabric as she moved up his thigh.

"But you were so good just now, waiting on me. Can I say thank you first?"

"You've just been on my mind all day." Her doe eyes made it hard for him to refuse, but the truth is that he'd been craving to see the face she made when she came.

"It'll be quick then. That means you're already wet for me. Plus, I want that mouth nice and messy. Now, move your hand until I give you permission."

She retracted her hand placing it back on her knee. This time when he brought the gag to her mouth she opened it. When Erik peered at her he saw gratitude in her eyes.

She looked beautiful. He reached inside her shorts, easily accessing her, as she was free of underwear. His fingers pressed into her folds. She mewled and melted into him. Her essence glistened on his fingers when he pulled them out to examine them.

"Look at that princess, I was right. You want me to keep going?"

"Uhm huh." She slurred behind the gag.

"Say please."

"Puhles." She struggled.

There he was at her entrance again, slipping in two fingers this time. Her eyes fluttered, then closed completely as she focused on the sensation. She pushed downwards, encouraging him to go deeper. His fingers curled inside of her, pushing against her pillowy folds. Her moans rang in his ears despite the ball gag. A pool of saliva that collected began to ooze from her mouth onto her chin and dripped on her chest. The messier her chest got, the more her pussy seemed to follow. Erik had easily slipped another finger inside of her and she'd been so close to cuming that Erik needed to support her weight. He could feel her clenching around him periodically.

"Be a good girl and cum for me." The hand that wasn't inside of her rubbed against her clit. Her warm juices splashed as kept his pace, even as her insides contracted against him. Indistinguishable sounds broke free from her throat as her body seized. He watched in satisfaction as the meat on her pudgy thighs and backside shook. Her empty, unfocused gaze stared beyond him, drunk with pleasure.

Erik removed the gag from her lips replaced it with his fingers. She sucked them slowly and hummed in delight.

"I love seeing you on your knees. It makes me want to fuck you."

It was times like this when the words he said sent shivers down her spine that made her wait worth it. She loved that he wanted her, she loved being a slut for him. Erik stood from his seated position, allowing her to see that he was fully bricked up inside his pants. Her mouth watered in excitement. She looked up to him eagerly, anticipating his movements.

"Fuck my throat," She pleaded, "Please, Sir." She had almost forgotten her manners in her desperation. She rose on her knees so that she was eye level with his dick. She watched as he took his time unbuttoning his shirt. The more of his skin that he revealed, the more she craved contact. His frame was thick, and sturdy. It became hard for her to sit still and she no longer knew what to do with her hands, so she went back to squeezing her nipples that were slick with drool. It was when he removed his undershirt and began to unbuckle his belt when she interrupted.

"May I?"

He dropped his hands at his sides and moved closer towards her obliging her. Her fingers couldn't move fast enough to unbuckle his pants, and move his boxers out of the way. Her mouth was on him immediately, the pants and boxers still hung around his hips. She swallowed his length entirely. He let his head hang back as he growled under his breath. When he looked back down at her, he struggled to keep his composure at the sight. Her pretty chestnut eyes blinked up at him through full, curly lashes. She engulfed him again, and remained here until her throat strained. When he left her throat she gasped and moaned out.

"Take your time, baby. I'm not going nowhere." She nodded, only slightly embarrassed at her neediness.

"I love this big dick." She took him in her hands and slapped him against her tongue a few times. "You making me so wet."

She lifted him up and slowly glided her tongue under his shaft up and down, feeling each and every vein there. She left soft, wet kisses on his balls before licking them lightly, suctioning them with her lips. Her tongue rhythmically massaged the flesh. His groans only fueled her to take more of him into her mouth, as much as she could fit. She focused her lips again at the tip of his dick, while one hand massaged his balls. She tightened her lips around the head of his dick and watched him. His eyes were low but focused. His abdomen tensed beginning to thrust further into her as her teasing would only suffice for so long. She allowed him to set the pace, and when he began to hit the back of her throat, she nearly orgasmed to the lewd noises that came from her mouth. It was like there was a secret g-spot there that made her insides do summersaults when Erik poked it. He gently guided her movements with his hand on the back of her head. He felt amazing gliding down her throat, but she could take more. She dropped lower under him, sitting on her ankles, and placed her hands on the outside of his thigh, encouraging his movements so that he could literally drop the dick down her throat.

He groaned as he slid down her throat. "You are my lovely little cocksleeve. How's that feel angel?" She moaned and blinked back tears.

"Move your hands so I can give you what you asked for." She relaxed her muscles as best as she could and concentrated on breathing in through her nose when Erik would slide out. She loved the sensation of her heavy tits bouncing each time he'd hit the back of her throat. Saliva rolled down her chin and collected at he base of his dick. When he slid out of her, her only purpose was to clean him off.

Nyla was perched in front of him, watching his muscles move as he removed his clothes completely. He stepped backwards and sat down. When she tried to come closer to him, Erik shook his head. "Stay." His eyes were dark and stern.

She pouted in protest. He leaned back and stroked himself as he took in her body. The evening sunlight that filtered through the curtains hit her perfectly, amplifying the warm red undertone of her skin. Swollen lips, wet eyelashes, and a complete mess all over her breasts. Hesitantly, she moved her hand down her body into her shorts. She looked him in his eyes and raised her eyebrow as if to ask, 'Is this okay, is this what you want?' Her clit was moist and puffy. She circled her clit and cried out with need. When he did not stop her from touching herself, she took the lenience and ran with it. She leaned back, removed the shorts and it was a matter of seconds before her pussy welcomed her fingers inside. She did not take her eyes off of him or his dick. His chest moved up and down as he breathed and his forehead was now covered in a thin sheen of sweat. He looked so strong and godly gazing down at her while his muscles worked to pleasure himself. She took note of his movements so that when she took over, she could recreate them herself.

"Can I please cum? Can I cum with your dick in my mouth Sir?" He made her plea a few more times before he called her over with a hand signal and a nod. She crawled the short distance to him. She kissed his feet, his calves, and all the way up his thighs. Before she could begin, Erik grabbed her by the neck and kissed her sloppily. She used the wetness between her legs to make his dick shine before taking him in her mouth. Once she found her rhythm she played in her pussy until she came again. Her eyes rolled and fluttered with him still inside of her. She felt Erik's dick twitch in her mouth at the sight. She brought her face close to his and encased his dick between her breast, moving up and down slowly.

"Don't cum yet, cause then I'll have to stop. And I still haven't decided where I want your delicious cum? What do you think?" She licked her lips. Her movements, paired with her provoking words, were hypnotizing.

"Its your world baby." Is all he managed. She smiled internally, feeling empowered. His orgasms was hers. All hers.

"Good, I just want you to relax honey." Erik smiled at her endearment, her care meant the world to him. "I love you," she said lowly.

"I love you." Moments between them like this made the world feel like it was at a standstill, like only he and her existed and nothing else mattered. She took him in her hand and rubbed him against her face, scattering warm wet French kisses all over his groin and dick. She massaged him, only using her hands for a while, returning to his balls and further down to his taint, pressing gently.

"Fuck, baby." His breathing hitched and his toes curled so she took it easy in that area. While one hand stoked him, the other gently made its way up his torso. You brushed your lips and tongue against his torso, the sensation of her breath made goosebumps spread across his body.

"You are so handsome, you know that? I don't know how I got so lucky." Erik's head rested against the chair with his legs outstretched. His eyes were closed, only opening occasionally. She used both hands, twisting and stoking, letting her mouth drip onto him to keep it moist. She applied slight pressure to the tip, and when she noted Erik's hips tilting up towards her, she slowed her motions again.

"I could do this for hours. You taste so good."

She circled his dick around her lips basking in how nice and hard he was. When he briefly opened his eyes and saw the pleasant smile on her face, he began to moan, knowing she truly enjoyed this did something to him. Her intimacy and devotion made him feel seen.

He slid into her mouth with ease. She allowed herself a moment to rest there, paying him true tribute. She hummed and slowly began bobbing her head up and down, then added her hands to the combination.

"Mmmm, just like that." He groaned. "I think I want my cum down your pretty throat, would you like that?"

She moaned in response.

"Hands behind your back." He grabbed the curly bun and guided her head down his shaft, his hips thrusting up slowly. Her mouth opened wider and wider, and her tongue moved out to accommodate him. She held her head there until she began to struggle for air. He repeated the same again, leaving her gasping for air. As he held his position in her throat, he pinched her nose for a few seconds. Her throat spasmed around him before he released her and pulled away. Warm strings of saliva hung from her lips. The whites of her eyes turned began to turn crimson.

"Please, give it to me." He soothed her, wiping a tear that began to form at the corner of her eye. Her begging made his dick ache in bliss, a culmination of how he'd felt the past thirth minutes bathing in her mouth. He was back inside of her mouth, fucking her throat rapidly. She held her head still for him like a good girl would awaiting his cum. On her tongue, she felt his dick begin to throb. She could feel warm spurts ooze from him, marking her throat, and she swallowed each one as they came. His moans of satisfaction made her more fulfilled than she could ever describe. He squeezed the tip so that any remaining landed on her tongue. She licked her lips and placed subtle kisses on his dick that laid in his lap.

Her eyes ran over his body. He laid back, limbs limp in exhaustion. Once he gathered himself, he looked at her in pure amazement and appreciation. He could tell she wanted to be close to him, occupy his space.

"Come."

She straddled him, laying her head on his shoulder. He palmed her thighs, giving them a nice jiggle before lightly rubbing her back.

"Are you good princess?"

"Yes, sir. Thank you for letting me please you."

"Thank you, princess. Where'd you learn to be so attentive?"

"What do you mean?"

"You anticipate my needs. And that... that wasn't no regular head."

"Well, you anticipate mine too. You deserve honor. Just because you're my Dom doesn't mean I can't reciprocate. I belong to and submit you, without you asking."

"Damn, say that last part again?" He bit his lip before meeting your eyes and joining you in laughter.

"I belong to you, Sir." He traced her features with his eyes before gracefully placing pecks all over her face.

Several hours later, chimes from Erik's computer caused him to stir in his sleep. They'd fallen asleep in his office. He was disoriented until the glow of the screen caught his attention. He shifted under Nyla's weight causing her to grip him tighter and persuading him back to his sleep. It was 12:05am and chimes became continuous beckoning him to the computer. He sat her down where she curled into ball and sulked over to the screen. Several new emails sat in his inbox. The first was the official signed contract agreement. The next was a link to an article from T'Challa headlining to new deal.

Wakandan officials agree to allow U.S. based descendants of slavery asylum after rampant white supremest attacks.

"Damn these muthafuckas are fast. I knew those terms were fucking irresistible."

He picked Nyla up to carry to to their bedroom. She groaned at him disrupting her sleep, but he ignored it. "Baby, guess what? They signed the contract."

"Okay baby. Just have them call me tomorrow, I'm sleep."

Erik laughed off her nonsense and covered her body before sinking into the bed himself. He closed his eyes, noticing how light and refreshed he felt. Although he felt a sense of relief about this deal he groaned internally when he began to think about work. He recalled Nyla's words from earlier about honor. He knew that he needed to honor his body and mind because the exhaustion that encompassed him at the moment was not for the weak. He felt a sense of calm wash over him as he made the decision to take some time off of work, perhaps go on a vacation for the holidays.

taglist: @hearteyes-for-killmonger @loveeeeandaffection @iamrheaspeaks @adasosweet @goddessofthundathighs @thiccdaddy-mbaku@nahimjustfeelingit-writes @eye-raq @madamslayyy @sweeter-thejuice @wawakanda-btch @theunsweetenedtruth @wokeblock @smutty-smut-smuty @wakandamaybe @stainontheground @killmongerkink @soufcakmistress @mysticbear21 @nickidub718 @blackpinup22 @killmonger-fics @goddessofthundathighs

#killmonger imagine #killmonger smut #erik killmonger fanfiction #black panther smut #erik killmonger x oc

239 notes · View notes

citruscatfish · 11 months ago

Text

one of the reasons why i downloaded tumbler — my ace attorney phase. i have feeling that nobody except tumbler ace attorney fandom are still alive

recently i watched great video about Franziska by @musashi and whole 2 hours i was like "YES YES SOMEBODY TALKED ABOUT IT THEY SAID EXACTLY WHAT I TRYING TO EXPLAIN TO ALL MY FRIENDS FOR THIS YEAR Y E S"

and well i think it's my turn to talk about Manfred. because i like this moron. before you ask me wtf let me explain: miles made unforgivable, stupid, aggressive and childish stuff. nobody can grew up in awful condition and become clearly good person. i like him because of his ambiguity. all fandom likes him. but i don't understand why everyone hate Manfred so easy

of course we don't know enough about him, his past, his relationship with family (i mean wife, for example). we only have different headcanons about how he raised miles and 'ziska. but.. it's strange for me why everyone accept so fast that "he is a villain, he is murderer, he must die, forget about him"

first of all, he is prosecutor, lawyer. probably hereditary. me too (seriously), and I saw mean, authoritative people, who can't communicate with their family well, but.. they still love them. you know, all that stuff about justice will settle in your soul forever, when you see courtroom, when you talk with other lawyers (your parents colleagues) from early childhood. you will never forget it, it's part of your life from the beginning. you can be mean, you can make awful mistakes, but you will remember. and probably your parents will press you with all this perfectionism, aesthetic, study and lawyer dynasty stuff. same as Manfred has been pressed, same as he pressed his children later

of course Manfred worked for victory, not only for justice. but i can't believe he did it because he e v i l. maybe he is just like miles in his youngest carrier because of demanding teacher and loathing to criminals? that's why he thought his children same stuff. he was just.. doing his duties. prosecutor must blame someone. somebody must get punished. death, especially violent, is always tragedy. relatives of victim are waiting for explanation, for punishment. it's so painful

next thing: Manfred is old. and he has toddler, and this toddler has noone exept Manfred, her father. i agree that Manfred could take miles because "ah look at me i adopted my rival's boy cause i'm SO generous and obviously NOT guilty ", but how about more reasons? another one child is always lots of work: money, school, adoption documents, this child also has a dog, so it's headache about vet, passport for transportation it to Germany, then dirt and maybe bitten furniture, food for both of them and more, more, more. we can see in anime, that Manfred allowed to take dog too. and by the way, he agreed to raise miles as prosecutor (he didn't force him), he helped him. quite possibly he gave him great education. Manfred understood, that Franziska need someone, who can protect and support her when he leaves her. he also can write it in testament

and how about AAI flashback? Manfred was ready to stay with miles during his first court. he discussed with him details before the beginning. he argued with detective to allow miles and 'ziska get to crime scene. he appointed them to investigate (no one of them asked about it directly, they were shocked and tried their best)

i think Manfred just another traumatized step of long von Karma dynasty. remember how Franziska hug herself when you press her against the wall? compare it to Manfred sprites. he is so self-defensive, when he loses control. controling everything around him — the only thing he can do now, when he became "that smart old person with lots of subordinates". and then Franziska remembered that and trying to repeat. i believe Manfred can be good in little things, he capable to love. i think he literally gone mad with understanding of what he has done on emotions and everyday pain, which reminds about that day

that's enough for first time, thanks for reading and sorry for my eng — it's my first non-translsted from native language text. waiting for your thoughts about it! this is my bf's art, he has no Tumblr, but tg https://t.me/bjdsketch

#ace attorney #manfred von karma #miles edgeworth #franziska von karma #headcanon #art #artists on tumblr

91 notes · View notes

kckt88 · 11 months ago

Text

The Lost Dragon XIII - Tranquility.

Summary:

Jace and Aemond find common ground and Vaelys is unwilling to make peace.

Warning(s): Angst, Apology, Mention of Miscarriage, Language, Uncle/Niece Incest, Kissing, Smut - Fingering, Hand Job, P in V, Breeding Kink, Pregnancy, Crying, Frustration, Child Birth.

*Features two year time skip*

AEMOND TARGARYEN x O.C -VAELYS TARGARYEN

MINORS DO NOT INTERACT.

Word Count: 4267

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the House of The Dragon or Fire & Blood characters nor do I claim to own them. I do not own any of the images used.

Comments, likes, and reblogs are very much appreciated.

Tag List - @jasminecosmic99 @kaelatargaryen @yesterdayfeelings-blog @immyowndefender @0eessirk8 @darylandbethfanforever9

Jace's footsteps echoed through the corridors of Dragonstone as he made his way towards his sister's chambers. He could feel the tension in the air, a palpable weight that hung over the castle like a storm cloud. He knew that Vaelys was still reeling from the argument she'd had with their mother, Rhaenyra, and he was determined to help mend the rift between them.

As he approached the door to Vaelys' chambers, Jace paused, gathering his thoughts before he knocked gently. "Vaelys," he called out, his voice tentative. "It's me, Jace. Can I come in?"

There was a moment of silence before the door swung open, revealing Vaelys standing on the other side, her expression guarded and defiant. "What do you want, Jace?" she asked, her voice sharp with anger.

Jace stepped into the room, his gaze meeting his sister's with a mixture of concern and determination. "I came to talk," he replied softly, his tone pleading. "To see how you're doing-and to try and sort things out."

But Vaelys remained unmoved, her arms crossed tightly over her chest. "I don't want to talk," she snapped, her voice tinged with bitterness. "Especially not about Mother."

Jace sighed, running a hand through his hair in frustration. He knew that Vaelys was hurting, that the wounds inflicted by their argument ran deep. But he also knew that he couldn't simply stand by and watch their family fall apart.

"Vaelys, please," he pleaded, his voice tinged with desperation. "I know you're angry, but you can't shut us out forever. We're family."

But Vaelys shook her head, her eyes blazing with defiance. "Not anymore," she retorted, her voice thick with emotion. "Not after what Mother did."

Jace followed Vaelys as she made her way to the grassy cliff edge, where Aemond was sitting with their children, Sovia and Daevyn. The dragons—Silverwing, Sapphyre, Vermithor, and Vhagar—rested nearby, their massive forms casting long shadows in the afternoon sun.

As Vaelys approached Aemond, a smile lighting up her face, Aemond's expression darkened when he noticed Jace trailing behind her. His brow furrowed with concern, wary of the tension that lingered between them.

"Vaelys," Aemond greeted her, his voice tinged with uncertainty. "Is everything ok?”

“Everything is fine-It’s time for the children to bathe” replied Vaelys firmly.

"Jace," Aemond acknowledged with a nod, his tone cool.

Jace shifted uncomfortably under Aemond's gaze, acutely aware of the tension that hung in the air. "Aemond," he replied evenly, trying to keep his voice neutral.

"Come on, little ones," Vaelys said affectionately, bending down to gather them in her arms. "It's time for your bath."

Sovia and Daevyn protested playfully, but Vaelys' gentle insistence soon had them reluctantly following her towards the castle.

As they disappeared inside, leaving the cliff edge bathed in the soft light of dusk, Jace turned his attention towards Aemond.

"Aemond, what my mother did-“ muttered Jace, his voice edged with frustration. "-She was worried what you might do."

Aemond's jaw clenched, his gaze hardening as he fixed his brother-in-law with a steely stare. "Worried or not, keeping Vaelys in the dark about where I was-it was cruel," he retorted, his voice laced with bitterness. "And then for Daemon to insinuate that I would betray her-it was unforgivable."

Jace bristled at the accusation, his own temper flaring in response. "They were trying to protect her," he countered, his voice rising with indignation. "You know how much she means to them, to all of us."

But Aemond shook his head, a bitter laugh escaping him. "Protect her? By tearing us apart?" he scoffed. "I would never betray Vaelys. Not in a thousand lifetimes."

Jace's resolve wavered as he met Aemond's gaze, the pain and anguish etched in his eyes impossible to ignore. In that moment, he realized the depth of his brother-in-law's suffering, the weight of his own guilt heavy upon him.

"I-I know, Aemond," Jace admitted quietly, his voice filled with regret. "T-They thought they were doing what was best for her. But now-now I see how cruel it all was."

Aemond's voice was heavy with resignation as he addressed Jace, the weight of his words hanging heavily in the air. "I know kidnapping Vaelys was wrong," he admitted, his tone tinged with regret. "But I tried my best to protect her”.

Jace's expression softened, a pang of remorse tugging at his heart as he listened to his brother-in-law's confession. He knew that Aemond had faced impossible choices, that he had sacrificed everything in his desperate bid to shield Vaelys from harm.

"Aemond, I-" Jace began, his voice trailing off as he struggled to find the right words. "I understand why you did what you did. And I'm sorry-I'm sorry for everything that's happened."

Aemond nodded solemnly, a weary acceptance in his eyes. "Thank you, Jace," he replied quietly, his voice tinged with sadness. "But no matter what I do, no matter how hard I try-it's never going to be good enough, is it?"

Jace's heart clenched at the truth of Aemond's words, the weight of their shared guilt hanging heavy upon them both. "I wish things could be different," he admitted softly, his voice thick with emotion. "I wish we could go back and make things right."

But Aemond shook his head, a bitter laugh escaping him. "It's too late for that," he replied, his voice tinged with resignation. "All we can do now is try to move forward, to rebuild what's been broken."

Jace's voice broke through the heavy silence, his words filled with a sense of turmoil. "Aemond, how do you do it?" he asked, his tone weighted with uncertainty.

Aemond furrowed his brow in confusion, taken aback by the sudden question. "Do what?" he replied, his voice tinged with curiosity.

Jace hesitated for a moment before continuing, his gaze faltering as he struggled to find the right words. "How did you cope-when Vaelys suffered the miscarriage?" he asked softly, his voice barely above a whisper.

Aemond's heart clenched at the mention of the painful memory, the grief and sorrow washing over him like a tidal wave. He closed his eyes, the weight of his emotions threatening to overwhelm him.

"It wasn't easy," he admitted quietly, his voice thick with emotion. "There were moments... when I thought I couldn't bear it. But I knew I had to be strong for Vaelys."

He paused, gathering his thoughts before continuing. "Sometimes, especially when I was in exile, I would think of the babe we would have had," he confessed, his voice trembling with raw vulnerability. "Boy or girl, it didn't matter. I would have loved them with all my heart."

Aemond's eyes brimmed with tears as he spoke, the pain of their loss still fresh in his mind. But then, amidst the darkness of his grief, a flicker of light emerged.

"But I cope," he said softly, his voice filled with determination, "By loving my wife. By being there for her, no matter what."

"Baela-she struggles with our loss. I don't know how to help her."

Aemond regarded his brother-in-law with empathy, the pain of their shared grief etched in his eyes. He reached out, placing a comforting hand on Jace's shoulder. "I understand, Jace," he said softly. "It's not easy seeing the one you love in pain."

Jace nodded, his eyes brimming with unshed tears. "I just want to make it better for her," he admitted, his voice choked with emotion.

Aemond offered him a reassuring smile, a glimmer of understanding passing between them. "Sometimes," he began, his voice gentle yet firm, "The best thing you can do is simply be there for her. Let her cry, let her scream. Hold her close and tell her you love her."

He paused, his gaze searching Jace's for reassurance. "It won't take away the pain," he continued, "But knowing that you're there, that she's not alone, it can make all the difference."

Jace nodded, a sense of gratitude washing over him at Aemond's words. "Thank you, Aemond," he said quietly, his voice filled with appreciation. "I'll do whatever it takes to help her through this."

Aemond stood on the grassy cliffs of Dragonstone, his gaze fixed on the sky as he watched Jace soar away on the back of his dragon Vermax.

Turning away from the horizon, Aemond made his way back towards the castle, his thoughts lingering on the bond he shared with his family. As he stepped inside, the warmth of the hearth greeted him, casting a soft glow over the room.

And there, in the corner, he found Vaelys reading a story to their children, Sovia and Daevyn, their laughter filling the air like music. Aemond's heart swelled with love as he watched them, his worries melting away in the warmth of their embrace.

Joining them by the fire, Aemond wrapped his arms around his wife and children.

"What book are we reading?" he inquired, his tone filled with genuine curiosity.

Sovia beamed up at her father, her eyes sparkling with excitement. "It's a story about a dragon who saved a Princess," she answered, her voice filled with enthusiasm. "And then they fell in love."

Aemond's heart swelled with affection as he looked at his daughter, her innocence a reminder of the beauty and wonder of the world. His gaze then shifted to Vaelys, who met his eyes with a soft smile, her love shining brightly in the warmth of her gaze.

As the family immersed themselves in the tale of the dragon and the princess, there came a gentle knock at the door. Ceci, stood in the doorway, her warm smile lighting up the room.

"Supper has been prepared” she announced softly, her voice carrying a note of warmth and familiarity.

Vaelys glanced up from the book, a smile touching her lips as she nodded in acknowledgment. "Thank you, Ceci," she said warmly. "We'll be there shortly."

Ceci dipped into a polite curtsy before retreating from the room, leaving the family in the quiet comfort of their own company once more.

As they entered the dining hall, Aemond's hand still playfully tickling Sovia's side, they found Helaena, her children and Daeron already seated at the table. The room was filled with the aroma of a hearty meal, and the sound of cheerful chatter filled the air.

Vaelys' eyes swept across the room, her attention catching on Daeron, who sat with a sheepish grin, stealing glances at Ceci, who’s cheeks flushed with embarrassment, she gasped in shock as she realized Vaelys had noticed, but Vaelys merely offered her a warm smile before turning her attention to Aemond.

Aemond's laughter rang out as he continued to tickle Sovia, the joyous sound filling the room with warmth. Vaelys' heart swelled with love as she watched her husband and daughter, a sense of contentment washing over her.

As they took their seats at the table, joining Helaena and her children, Vaelys felt a sense of gratitude for the simple moments of happiness that filled their lives.

*Two Years Later*

As they walked deeper into the cavern, the sound of trickling water grew louder until they reached a small chamber bathed in a soft, golden glow. Steam rose from the surface of a crystal-clear pool nestled against the rocky walls, the air heavy with warmth.

Vaelys and Aemond exchanged a look, anticipation gleaming in their eyes, before they began to undress, shedding layers until they stood bare beneath the flickering torchlight. With a shared smile, they stepped into the soothing waters of the hot spring, sighing in bliss as the heat enveloped them.

Aemond's eye sparkled with affection as he watched Vaelys, her silhouette softened by the gentle glow of the hot spring's waters. With a tender smile, he extended his hand, inviting her to join him closer. Vaelys, sensing his intention, waded towards him, her heart quickening with anticipation.

As she drew near, Aemond wrapped his arms around her waist, pulling her into his lap with a gentle embrace. Vaelys settled against him, the warmth of his body mingling with the soothing heat of the water.

Vaelys then reached up and delicately slipped the eyepatch from Aemond's head, revealing the sapphire nestled within, its deep blue hue capturing her gaze.

Tenderly, she leaned forward, and pressed a series of soft kisses on the scarred side of Aemond’s face.

Each kiss was a silent declaration for the love she felt for her husband.

As she pulled away their gazes locked the world around them fade away, leaving only the two of them, in that moment.

Aemond leaned forward and pressed his lips against hers in a sweet kiss.

He was about to pull away when Vaelys slowly opened her mouth, inviting him in, her wet hand sliding round the back of his neck.

Encouraged, Aemond parted his own lips against hers and slowly slid his tongue inside her hot wet mouth.

Looking up at Aemond’s face, she licked her lips and ran a hand down his chest, digging her nails into his skin as she went.

Aemond seemed to enjoy the tinge of pain mixed pleasure, his eye rolling back in his head.

Vaelys then lowered her hand to wrap around his hard cock.

Aemond drew in his breath at her touch, his cock throbbing, as she slowly moved her hand up and down.

Her tongue running along his lower lip as she leisurely stroked his cock.

Her hand sliding smoothly along his wet length with firm, deliberate strokes.

“N-No m-more, I’m going to come if you carry on-” muttered Aemond.

“I want to suck your cock” whispered Vaelys.

Aemond shuddered, as her hot breath tickled his ear.

Before he could answer Vaelys took a deep breath and slid under the water, gripping his erection a little harder than she would ordinarily have dared.

Aemond didn't move.

Vaelys put her lips to his head then quickly pulled his cock into her mouth, forming a tight seal so as to not let too much water enter.

Stroking his shaft firmly, she moved up and down, swallowing his head and as much of his length as she could, sucking hard.

Vaelys’ hearing was somewhat clouded by the surrounding water.

She didn't hear Aemond’s sharp intake of breath, and she couldn't see how he tilted his head back, eye closed against the glorious streaks of pleasure coursing through his body.

Aemond couldn't remember the last time he was this hard.

Vaelys head broke clear of the water, she gasped for breath and pushed her streaming-wet silver hair back over her head.

“What are you?” asked Aemond.

But Vaelys didn’t answer she just smirked and moved backwards, her arms moving hypnotically under the water as she swam away from him.

Aemond smiled as he pushed himself away from the edge of the pool and swam after her, but she took a deep breath and sunk below the surface of the water.

Aemond watched as she moved sinuously through the clear water, his wife stopped and stared at him from under the water, her silver hair fanned out behind her like a curtain, she smiled as she resurfaced but dodged out of his way as he went to grab her, taking a breath a sinking beneath the surface once more.

Descending under the water, Aemond followed his wife, he was never one for swimming and he’d only learnt as a child after he complained to his mother when he’d saw Vaelys, and her bastard strong brothers being taught by Ser Laenor.

Thank the seven he’d insisted, because if he hadn’t then he wouldn’t be able to share in his current experience with his wife.

He rose to the surface and took another deep breath before descending below the surface again, reaching for his wife as she swam past him and tickled him.

Aemond seized hold of his wife and moved his hands around her neck as he pressed his lips to hers.

They both resurfaced at the same time, breathing heavily as their hands grasped at one another.

Aemond took hold of Vaelys and span her around, his body pushing her towards the edge of the pool, his hard cock grinding against her arse.

“Valzȳrys” exclaimed Vaelys (Husband).

Aemond’s large hands skimming down her sides, moving further and further down, extending his middle finger to tease her folds.

“Vok” growled Aemond (Perfect).

“A-Aemond” whimpered Vaelys.

“Do you know how much I fucking love you” rasped Aemond, his tongue running along the shell of her ear.

Aemond shifts slight as he continues to stroke her folds with one hand, whilst the other begins to tease her puckered hole with one finger.

He works in silence for a while, easing his finger in and out of her arse until she could take it easily.

Pulling out, he slowly added a second finger.

“Oh gods. Oh yes” moaned Vaelys, as Aemond dug his teeth into her shoulder.

“As much as I would love to fuck you there-I want to be inside your cunny”

“Oooh Aemond” exclaimed Vaelys.

“I’m going to fill you my seed-put another babe in you”.

“Aemond-Please fuck me” begged Vaelys.

“Oh, like this?” asked Aemond, and a second later his hard length filled her cunny in one smooth stroke.

“God. Yes. Aemond” screamed Vaelys.

He began to thrust in and out of her in deep achingly slow thrusts.

“Your cunt feels amazing” sighed Aemond.

Slowly thrusting back and forth. Over and over, withdrawing further each time, until his cock entirely withdrew from her warm wet entrance, he paused for a moment before thrusting himself back inside her.

Aemond then began to fuck her in earnest, plunging his cock into her cunny over and over, Vaelys’ moans of need echoing around the cavern.

The warm water rolling and splashing against the edges of the pool from the force of his thrusts.

Deciding he wanted to see her face as he fucks her, Aemond withdrew and turned her around, lifting his wife against him.

Her legs automatically wrap around his waist as he reaches down, wrapping a hand around his hard cock as he sheathes himself back inside her.

He rests his back against the rocky edges of the pool and digs his fingers into Vaelys’ hips as she rides him, hard and fast.

Aemond takes one of her stiffened rosy nipples into his mouth and sucks.

Fuck he couldn’t wait to get her with child again, her round stomach and her milk swollen breasts that he would indulge himself with.

Aemond felt his stones draw in; his peak was approaching. He snaked a hand around Vaelys’ body and played with her clitoris, plucking it with his fingers.

“Oh gods” moaned Vaelys as her whole-body shook.

“Come for me, love” breathed Aemond, his thrusts starting to jerk.

He was close. So close.

Vaelys screamed as her desperately needed peak exploded from her body, making every limb tremble as her cunt convulsed around his cock.

“I’m going to fill you up-I meant it when I said I want to get you with child again”.

“A-Another babe?” whimpered Vaelys.

“Yes” growled Aemond.

“P-Please, I want it” begged Vaelys.

“FUCK” roared Aemond.

His own peak nearly took him off his feet. The sensation took over his body as he spilled rope after rope of his seed, he had no recollection of what he did or said for the good minute it took for his peak to crest, then subside.

He had never come so hard in his life.

Breathing hard, Aemond gently pulled out and enveloped his wife’s shaking limbs into a tight hug.

“I-I didn’t hurt you, did I?”

“Not at all” replied Vaelys quietly.

“Let’s head back to our chambers-I’ll have the maids bring us some food and drink, your going to need your energy for the night ahead ābrazȳrys, I plan on having you many more times this night” said Aemond firmly, his lips curving into a smile.

Vaelys lay in bed, her hand tightly clasped in Aemond's as she breathed through the waves of pain that rippled through her body. Sweat glistened on her brow, her chest rising and falling with each laboured breath as the moment they had been awaiting drew near.

Aemond stood by her side, his expression a mix of concern and unwavering support. With each contraction, he offered words of encouragement, his voice a steady anchor in the storm of sensations that swept over Vaelys.

"You're doing so well, my love," he murmured, brushing a lock of silver hair from her forehead. "Just a little while longer, and our child will be in our arms."

As the waves of pain intensified and the moments stretched into eternity, Vaelys felt the tears running down her cheeks. But these tears weren't solely born from the agony of childbirth; they were tears of overwhelming joy, tears of gratitude for the man who was standing by her side.

Through clenched teeth and gasps for air, Vaelys managed to whisper amidst the throes of labour, "I'm so happy you're here, Aemond."

Aemond's heart swelled with emotion as he squeezed her hand tighter, his eye reflecting the depth of his love and devotion. "I wouldn't be anywhere else, Issa jorrāelagon," he replied, his voice thick with emotion (My love).

"Princess” Maester Garrick began, his eyes meeting hers with a reassuring gaze, "The time has come. With each contraction, I need you to push with all your strength."

Vaelys nodded, her resolve steeling as she braced herself for the next wave of pain. Gripping Aemond's hand tightly, she drew a deep breath, summoning every ounce of determination within her.

"As the next contraction begins, I want you to bear down and push," the Maester instructed, his voice steady and measured. "Focus on the strength within you, Princess. You can do this."

As another wave of agony swept over her, Vaelys closed her eyes and followed the Maester's guidance, pushing with all her might, her muscles straining. With each exertion, she felt a surge of energy coursing through her veins, propelling her forward towards the moment of delivery.

"Good, Princess, good," the Maester encouraged, his hands guiding her with practiced precision.

"Keep pushing, just a little more, your doing amazing” exclaimed Aemond.

Through gritted teeth, Vaelys obeyed, her breath coming in ragged gasps as she pushed with all the strength she could muster. And then, with one final push the babe arrived with a wet squelch.

As the room filled with the sound of a newborn's cry, Maester Garrick's face broke into a smile of satisfaction. "You've done it, Princess” he declared, his voice filled with pride.

Exhausted yet elated, Vaelys collapsed back against the pillows, her eyes shining with tears of relief and joy. Beside her, Aemond squeezed her hand, his own eyes brimming with emotion as they gazed upon the tiny bundle of life that lay cradled in the Maester's arms.

With gentle hands, Maester Garrick carefully cradled the newborn in his arms, his weathered face breaking into a warm smile as he turned towards Vaelys and Aemond.

"You have a son" he said, his voice filled with a sense of reverence.

Vaelys' heart swelled with a rush of emotion as she gazed down at the tiny bundle nestled in the maester's arms. Tears of joy filled her eyes as she reached out, her arms trembling with anticipation, yearning to hold her newborn child against her chest.

Aemond's expression mirrored her own as he leaned in closer, his eyes shining with pride and wonder. "A son," he whispered, his voice choked with emotion. "Our son."

With a nod of acknowledgment, Maester Garrick carefully transferred the baby into Vaelys' waiting arms, cradling him against her chest with infinite tenderness. As she felt the weight of her son against her, a sense of overwhelming love washed over her, filling her with a warmth that eclipsed even the radiant glow of the chamber's torches.

"He's perfect," Vaelys breathed, her voice barely above a whisper as she pressed a kiss to the soft crown of her son's head. "Our beautiful son."

Aemond leaned in closer, his hand reaching out to gently stroke the baby's cheek.

As Vaelys cradled their newborn son in her arms, she couldn't help but marvel at the striking resemblance he bore to his father. The baby's features were a perfect reflection of Aemond's: the same strong jawline, the same piercing amethyst eyes and even the hint of a dimple that appeared when he puckered his tiny lips.

"He looks just like you, Aemond," Vaelys whispered, her voice filled with awe as she gazed down at their son.

As the tender moment between Vaelys, Aemond, and their newborn son lingered in the chamber, Maester Garrick, with a gentle yet expectant tone, interjected, "Princess, my Prince what shall we name this precious babe?"

Vaelys fell silent for a moment, her eyes flickering between the babe in her arms and her husband beside her. In that silent pause, there was a quiet reverence, a sacredness to the decision that hung in the air. And then, with a certainty that settled upon her like a warm embrace, she spoke.

"Aemon," she said softly, her voice carrying a weight of reverence and love. "His name is Aemon."

Aemond's breath caught in his throat, his eyes widening in stunned disbelief. For a moment, he was speechless, overcome by the honour and significance of the name chosen for their son—a name that echoed his own.

"Aemon," he repeated, his voice barely above a whisper, as he reached out to gently touch his son's tiny fingers. "It's a perfect name."

#house of the dragon #aemond targaryen #hotd aemond #aemond fanfiction #hotd fanfic #aemond fic #aemond x oc #aemond x original female character #hotd fic #aemond one eye #aemond #aemond smut #prince aemond #prince aemond targaryen #aemond targaryen smut #hotd smut #hotd #jacaerys velaryon

94 notes · View notes