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astralis-ortus · 6 months ago

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you're always enough

✱ boyfriend!bc x fem!reader

— losing you was not an option.

w.count → 2.3k genre → angst, fluff, a dash of comedy warning → mild cussing, mention of infidelity, insecure chan :( a.n → based on this request! it honestly was a challenge for me hahahㅠ i think it's been a while since i wrote something with this quick of a vibe change in a while but i'm glad i got to try again! ⋆ see masterlist

the clock at the bottom right part of his monitor shows its lingering around the 1pm mark—a mere 2 hours since he had stepped foot inside the building—and yet, he’s already stressed.

one block and straight to another, work hasn’t been looking good for him so far. he’s so ready to call for another break—but the soft knocks to the melody of twinkle twinkle little stars on chan’s studio door could only mean one thing.

“well hello there, miss producer,” chan’s frown turned into a smile in the split second you peeked your head between the crack of the door, eyes turning into a pair of beautiful crescents you oh-so adore. you couldn’t even stop yourself from smiling—chan just looked so adorable with his messy natural curls decorating his forehead, beanie discarded somewhere on his leather couch. “come on in. i missed you.”

4 years ago, you were graced with the opportunity to participate in a song camp with the 3racha—one of, if not the, biggest producers in your company. it was a great experience—you got to learn a lot of new things, and somehow, your luck seemed to prolong as you kept in touch with the boys; occasionally called in for inputs while some other time just to hangout while grabbing a bite when the three realized the unidentified voice bleed turns out to originate from your producing room.

“oh really?” your smile easily mirrored his as you stepped inside the cold room, not forgetting to close the door behind you, “you missed me?”

taking his extended hand, the wide grin painted on your face soon met the end of its reign as your boyfriend pulls you into his lap—tiny yelp involuntarily left your lips while chan had his arms wrapped around you in a tight hug. you couldn’t even continue with the witty remarks on the tip of your tongue when his complimentary dozen of butterfly kisses fell across the span of your face; all replaced with the series of giggles and ‘oh my god—stop!’s as you attempted to free yourself from his trap.

you thought your little crush on the oldest of the three was going to remain as a silly little crush—but as life turns out, it has somehow been around 2 years since chan asked you to be his girlfriend, and a little over a year since you two gradually came clean to your closest friends and coworkers; though the thought only came after repeatedly being caught secretly meeting up or sneakily holding hands during your increasingly overlapping recording sessions.

“you little monster!” a high pitched squeal slipped past your upturned lips when you finally caught his rosy cheeks between your hands, keeping him still as you brought your lips onto his for a few quick pecks—which seemed to work, seeing how chan’s antics now reduced to a simple giggle as he held you close. “you really missed me that much?” you hummed, gently running your thumbs on his freckled cheeks.

“of course i do,” chan pursed his lips in protest, warm hand gently running down your side, “it’s not every day i couldn’t see my girlfriend both at home and at work. 24 hours a day alone wasn’t enough, and now it’s reduced? of course i’m bound to miss you!”

swarms of butterflies fill the hollow of your chest while you let laughter echoes through the familiar green walls, feeling both warm and ticklish from chan’s cheesy line. “gosh,” your wide set grin now completed with a tinge of rose-colored flush on your cheeks, “you’re so head over heels for me, aren’t you?”

chan’s reverberating low hum became his reply, nodding his head confidently. “of course i am,” he smiled, eyes twinkling as the pair of deep brown eyes peered right into yours. “aren’t you?”

“well,” you grinned, arms wrapped around your boyfriend’s neck, “maybe if—”

your train of thought was forced to a halt when you felt a buzz in your pocket, quickly hopping off chan’s lap after a quick glance at the name. a short apology was muttered before you finally took the call outside the studio, leaving chan feeling a little dumbfounded and… hurt.

chan knew it’s probably work—despite the promised time off since the artist you’re working with is on their vacation, as someone who works behind the scenes, you’re never actually off duty. there’s bound to be urgent matters you need to deal with, and chan understood that.

he's just… confused.

and his confusion certainly multiplies in size when he heard another voice laughing with yours, right outside of his studio.

“no! geez, didn’t i—oh!” your attention instantly shifted when you heard the studio door crack open, eyes catching your puzzled boyfriends’ as he looked at you and the figure across. “channie, this is kyungho sunbae. he’s a new addition to the team but i met him in college. kyungho sunbae, this is—”

“bang chan-ssi, of course,” kyungho cheerily greeted chan, extending a friendly hand. “i’ve heard a lot of good things about you!”

“oh,” the confusion on chan’s face turned into a tight smile—which equally reflected on his grip on the stranger’s hand. even through a quick scan of his eyes, chan notices a lot. “couldn’t really say the same, but welcome. i hope you’re adjusting well so far,” chan continued, returning his hand to the small of your back.

“i am, thank you! i—”

“i’m sorry i can’t really talk much right now, i have my things to return to,” chan was quick to cut kyungho off, surprising both you and the latter. “it was nice meeting you, though,” chan quickly bowed before disappearing behind the metal door, leaving you slightly bothered.

“well, i gotta get going too,” kyungho finally broke the awkwardness between you. “i’ll text you later about the details?” he smiled despite the peeking confusion behind his eyes, to which you nodded before sending him off.

it was unlike chan to behave like that. sure, he might grow a little rough with his actions when work hasn’t been going the way he wanted things to be, but he was doing just fine. he was all lovey dovey with you less than 5 minutes prior, wasn’t he?

“baby,” cracking the door open, you were met with a stern-faced chan—eyes locked to his monitors with a muffled bass resonating from the headphone over his ears. the sight led you to a defeated sigh; you knew better than anyone to not bother the lion when he’s in this state.

but little did you know,

when you decided to back away and close the door, chan felt as if his worst nightmare had come true.

he knows it’s stupid to think that you’d ever cheat on him, but there’s also no guarantee that you would never fall for someone else and realize that maybe your happiness wasn’t with him. it terrifies chan to realize that maybe one day, you’d meet someone and realize that there’s someone better than him—someone better looking, someone who could treat you better, someone who could give you everything that you could ever wished for.

chan is scared that he’s not enough, and never will be.

for someone who’s been in his seat for so long, chan understands that at times his life does feel rather fleeting—like he’s simply going through the motions as he tries to stay afloat. everything—everyone—goes by so fast, and along the way, chan somehow learned how to shut down his feelings just so he could survive. he knew—he hoped, that as life gets better, he’ll come to find the opportunity to learn how to feel again.

but then, again, not everything he knows he needed to do proves to be easy.

it took him a while, but when he finally reached a point where he felt like life’s doing better for him, chan finally realizes that he now has love within him to give. he tried sharing them with his bandmates, he tried sharing them with his friends and family—hell, he even tried to share them with every single soul he met, but nothing fills him with the sense of content he was looking for…

until he met you.

chan knew he shouldn’t—you were his coworker, but despite him trying his best not to view you in a special light, he couldn’t help but return his gaze to your bright smile whenever you’re in the room. sure, you’re passionate about what you do, and it sure inspires him—but to see how your shoulders relax whenever you pop open a new book, or how happy you looked browsing through the convenience store aisles while trying to find what kind of new snacks you’ve never seen before,

it feels like he finally found what to be at peace felt like. he finally knew what love should look like—and it’s you.

a soft touch on his shoulder snaps chan out of his trance, eyes wide as it met your worried pair. your gentle smile was the second thing he noticed, and his eyes finally trailed down to the box of pineapple juice and a few snacks along the roll of kimbab perched on his desk.

“i know you’re busy,” your voice finally came clear as soon as chan took off his headphone, “but you need to eat first, okay? it’s almost 2, and i know you didn’t eat much earlier before you left. i’m not gonna bother you again if you eat now—i’ll even head home if you need time to focus, but that’s as long as you eat. okay?”

“…then i’m not eating.”

“baby—”

“i don’t want you to go home,” chan reiterated—and that’s when you finally see the tinge of sadness behind his eyes. “i’m not eating if you’re gonna go.”

“oh baby—what happened?” your voice turned gentle as you took his face in your hands, gently grazing the pads of your thumbs over his skin. “are you okay? do you—”

“i’m sorry.”

“sorry?” you tilted your head, now confused. “for…?”

“just… everything,” chan exhaled, arms wrapped around your waist as he pulled you close and rested his forehead on your stomach. “i know i’m difficult, but please. don’t leave.”

“baby you’re not difficult,” you furrowed your eyebrows, puzzled. what happened in the 30 minutes you were gone? did something terrible happened? all sorts of thoughts were running through your head.

“and i’m not leaving,” your voice were stern, and you felt the way chan slightly tightened his arms around you. “where am i supposed to even go anyway? i’m already home.”

if chan wasn’t tearing up before, then he sure is now.

“even if i’m not perfect?” he quietly muttered—and you’re slowly piecing the puzzles together. “even if i’m not tall enough? even if my hair is always messy? even if i’m not fashionable? even if—"

“stop right there, mr. bahng,” you stopped him, peeling yourself off from chan and gazed right at his flushed face, “why are you being mean to my boyfriend? where does this came from, hm? no one’s allowed to say shit to my boyfriend like that!” your pursed your lips and gently lowered yourself to place a gentle kiss on the tip of his nose, only then smiling when chan let out a soft giggle.

“were you upset about me talking to kyungho sunbae earlier?” you questioned, and despite the lack of reply from your boyfriend, you’re pretty sure you knew what his answer was based on the minuscule shift on his face.

“i’m sorry, baby. i thought our interactions wasn’t important enough, so i never really brought him up to you. had i known you’d feel differently about that, i would’ve told you right away,” you apologized, smiling as you noted the faint glint returning in his eyes. “we did met in college, but he was just a senior i came to shadow a couple times when i started out in the industry.”

“i was really surprised when he turned out to be the new guy in my team,” you continued, fingers gently tracing his features, “but what really shocked me was turns out, i actually know his wife.”

you watched as your boyfriend connected the dots, jaw falling upon realizing the tiny detail he had skipped through despite catching a short glimpse of thin silver band on his finger.

“i met his wife a few times since we were pretty close in high school, and he’s been trying to dig out some information from me since their anniversary is just around the corner and he wanted to surprise her. he was just making sure he got the details right without texting me since his texts are synced to their shared device,” you explained, letting a giggle slip when you caught the blush creeping up your boyfriend’s face.

“…i see.”

the echo of your laugh only grew in volume when your boyfriend began to avoid your eyes, resorting to him burying his face on your stomach. adorable.

“it’s okay, baby. i understand why you’d get jealous,” your lips were set into a wide grin as you held your boyfriend close. “i’m still really sorry, though. i really wasn’t trying to hide this, i promise. i’ll tell you straight away if anything like this ever happened again.”

“okay.”

“so…” reducing your giggles to a smile, you gently run your nails on your boyfriend’s scalp, trying to soothe him, “am i forgiven?”

a muffled whine and a nod after, chan finally gazed up at you and added, “if only you’re eating with me.”

“oh baby,” cradling his face in your hands with a smile, you inched closer and placed a light peck over his pouting lips, “i’ll even stay here and cuddle all day with you.”

only then, chan finally allowed himself to laugh.

“well, then don’t mind if i say yes to that.”

©️ astralisortus, 2024. | likes and reblogs are highly appreciated♡

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unclewaynemunson · 1 year ago

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Alt version of this post bc too many people asked for both <3

It's Saturday night and, like almost every Saturday night, Eddie wishes he didn't have to be at some jock party. The flashing lights, the scent of cheap mixed drinks, the incredibly mediocre loud music... And worst of all, the fucking jocks. Everywhere.

'Eddie!'

He looks up to find Steve, with a dopey smile on his face, basically skipping towards him and throwing his arms around his neck. Oh. He didn't know Steve still went to parties like those. Hadn't seen him at any of them in a while. But as soon as he gets wrapped up in an enthusiastic full-body hug, he decides there's one jock, and one jock only, that he doesn't mind running into at those parties.

'Eddie, what're you doin' here?' There's an unfocused look in his eyes and he wobbles on his legs a little bit, grabbing tighter onto Eddie for support. The touch burns through Eddie's t-shirt and he tries to ignore the shiver running down his spine.

'I didn't know you liked parties!' Steve drops his voice, slurring: 'I thought you hated the jocks.'

Eddie can't help but smile. 'I hate all jocks but one, big boy,' he tells Steve. 'Not here to party, only to get some cash.' He rattles with the metal lunchbox in his hands to illustrate his point. 'Can you let me go now so I can get on with my business, pretty please?'

'Noooo,' Steve says with an exaggerated pout. 'I'm too happy you're here! Dance with me!'

Eddie chuckles. 'I don't think you're in any state to dance right now. Jesus, Stevie, I don't think I've ever seen you this wasted before. Thought you were planning to pick up a girl tonight?'

'I was,' Steve says, suddenly sounding oddly serious. 'But it doesn't matter. Just needed to forget. The rum helped, too.' He frowns. 'Til you showed up.'

'Forget what?' Eddie asks, trying to make sense of this drunken string of words.

Something happens; something that's been happening quite often lately. Steve's eyes flash downwards, just for a second, right to where Eddie's lips are.

Eddie's heartbeat involuntarily picks up speed.

'What did you need to forget, Steve?' Eddie asks again.

'Can't tell you,' Steve mumbles so softly that Eddie can barely make it out over the loud music. 'I don't wanna make you feel guilty. I'm not judging you, y'know. 'S fine.'

He abruptly lets go of Eddie and takes a step away from him, stumbling right into some girl who pushes him back with an annoyed scoff; if Eddie weren't still standing right behind him, he would've fallen on his ass for sure.

'Alright, you're not making any sense tonight, big boy, but I can't in good conscience let you stay here by yourself. How 'bout I'll drive you home?'

Eddie glances at his watch. If he hurries, he can probably still be back to do what he came here for before the good part of the party is over. He does kinda need the cash.

'Can't,' says Steve. 'Can't go home with you.' Something in his voice is breaking and suddenly there are tears in his eyes, and Eddie still doesn't understand what's wrong; he feels like he's overlooking something huge, something that should be obvious.

'Let's just go outside to talk, then?' he suggests.

'Can't. Dance with me, Eddie.'

But when Eddie starts gently tugging Steve towards the open door leading to the garden, Steve easily lets himself be led outside. He closes his eyes and takes a deep breath when the cool night air reaches his lungs, as if one gulp of fresh air will instantly make him sober up. But he's still swaying on his feet, making Eddie grab onto him tighter.

Eddie likes to think of himself as moderately strong, but unfortunately, hauling 180 pounds of muscled jock around is starting to take its toll on him. He spots a bench in a secluded corner of the garden and guides Steve towards it.

'This better?' he asks.

'Yeah,' Steve breathes out. Even now that they're both sitting down, Steve keeps clinging onto him. 'Look at the stars, Eddie.'

Eddie looks up at the scattering of lights twinkling far above them - but he can feel Steve's eyes still burning into his face.

When he directs his gaze back to the guy sitting next to him, Steve's face is even closer than before. The starlight is reflected in his hazy eyes, tiny specks of silver hidden in various shades of brown and black.

'I wish I could kiss you,' Steve whispers, looking at Eddie with nothing but admiration behind that glassy drunk gaze.

Eddie almost forgets to breathe. He knows that it seemed like he and Steve were headed exactly toward something like this for a while now, but he still can hardly believe that it is real. That Steve Harrington is really looking at him like he's just as precious as the stars in the sky above them.

He brings up a hand, gently caresses Steve's soft cheek.

'Maybe you don't have to wish,' he whispers back, unable to stop his eyes from flashing towards Steve's beautiful lips for a moment. 'Tomorrow. When you're not drunk anymore. If you still remember this.'

'No.' Steve shakes his head, so fiercely it makes his hair flap in all directions and his complexion at least two shades paler. 'Can't.'

'Why do you keep saying that, Steve?' Eddie asks softly.

'Cause.' For a moment Eddie thinks Steve is gonna grab his ass, but then... he randomly frees Eddie's handkerchief – the one with the skulls – from his back pocket.

'Cause of the Russians.'

Eddie can only stare at him in confusion.

'They tied me up,' Steve all but whispers. Eddie hates how small and broken his voice suddenly sounds.

He has always known – broadly speaking – about what happened to Steve and Robin miles beneath Starcourt last year. He's never actually heard Steve talk about the details, though. All he knows is that he and Robin were captured by Russian spies and somehow made it out alive. He could always see how difficult it was for Steve to talk about it whenever it came up, but he never wanted to pry. And now here they are, at some goddamn high school jock party of all places, and all of a sudden Steve willingly brings it up.

'I was with Robin,' Steve continues, still in that scared and broken voice. 'And they tied us to a chair. We couldn't move. And they – they hurt me. They hit me. 'Til I was bleeding all over. I thought I was gonna die. Robin thought I was dead.'

'Jesus Christ, Steve,' Eddie breathes out, tightening his grip around Steve's torso.

'So I can't,' Steve mumbles, holding up Eddie's handkerchief as if it's some kind of logical explanation for whatever it is he's trying to tell Eddie.

'Wh- What?'

'I know what it means, Eddie,' he says, as if he's even remotely making sense right now. 'You know John?'

'Who the hell is John?' Eddie only keeps finding himself more and more lost in this conversation.

'My cousin,' Steve says, like it's obvious, like he's ever talked about some cousin named John to Eddie before. 'The one in New York. He knows all about that shit, right? He sends me the good magazines sometimes when my parents aren't home. That's how I know.'

'Know what?'

Steve only waves around with that stupid handkerchief again.

'You're flagging, aren't ya? You like pain. Like BS... BM...'

Eddie feels his jaw drop.

'What the fuck are you talking about?' he asks. 'It's – this is a metal thing. It looks metal. I literally have no idea what you're – flagging?'

Now Steve's face finally mirrors the confusion Eddie has been feeling for the past ten minutes.

'Are you serious?' he asks, for one second showing more clarity in his eyes than Eddie has seen all evening.

Eddie nods.

'So it's not...' Steve stops himself, swallows, frowns. 'You're not into, like, hurting people and shit?'

And finally, it all clicks together in Eddie's mind: the repeated chorus of I can't, the story about the Russians, the goddamn handkerchief... Flagging. BDSM.

'Why the hell would I get off on hurting you, Steve?' is all he can get out of his mouth.

And Steve honest-to-Satan starts giggling; it sounds so relieved that Eddie kinda feels like giggling too, scary metal image be damned.

'I dunno, it's more common than you think,' Steve mumbles. 'I wouldn't judge you, alright? But I knew I could never give you that. No matter how much I like you. And then you'd get bored of me.'

'Oh, Steve,' Eddie whispers out. 'You don't need to worry 'bout that, I swear. For all I care, we can have the most vanilla sex in the world forever. Or never have sex at all. As long as it's with you... I'm good.' Eddie cringes as soon as the words leave his mouth: it sounds too cheesy, too sincere. He kinda hopes Steve will have forgotten this particular part of their conversation tomorrow morning.

But Steve doesn't look at him like he thinks it's stupid at all: his eyes are wide and he's smiling a soft smile.

'You sure? You won't get bored?'

Eddie chuckles. Now that he's being too goddamn cheesy anyway, he might as well double down on it. 'I can't imagine getting bored of getting to hold this body in a million fucking years. In any way you'll have me.'

Steve heaves out a relieved sigh before he buries his head against Eddie's chest.

'Can I bring you home, now?' Eddie asks.

There's a twinkle in Steve's eyes when he lifts his head again.

'Ooohhh... You wanna have the most vanilla sex in the world with me now?'

A chortle escapes Eddie's lungs.

'Um, maybe tomorrow, when you're not drunk off your ass,' he answers with a wink. 'For tonight, just lemme get you to bed, 'kay?'

'Okay, big boy,' Steve answers, and Eddie can't help but laugh before he presses a kiss against Steve's forehead.

#don't mind me rambling about stranger things #thought i'd finally put in my own 2 cents about them hanky debate #if you even care #seriously have fun with your hc's however you like but #let's address the trauma here alright #(and let them have the most boring vanilla sex forever i guess)#can you tell i'm in my soft steddie era?#I JUST NEED THEM TO BE SOFT GODDAMNIT #maybe it's my own yearning but LET THEM BE SOFT #steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #stranger things #fanfic #fruity ficlet #tw alcohol

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tojisun · 4 months ago

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you're breaking my heart with him who we love and i absolutely adore it!!!! (っ◔︣◡◔᷅)っ ❤

may i ask what johnny (and maybe even simon?) would do if reader - after feeling left out for so long - finally decided to move on and/or find someone else? maybe she gravitated towards kyle and/or john bc they’re sweet and gentle with her and her affection is finally being reciprocated?

and please feel free to ignore this if it doesn't interest you. no pressure at all!

ohn my god no bc im so so glad so many of u are brainrotting w me again about 'him who we love' <33 i could not stop thinking about it on our way home yesterday

!! vague descriptions of an injury and an attack; mentioned callsign for reader but its not important!!; and its so so rambly so do forgive me ): // divider by @/plutism <3

id love to see this happen after that mission mishap with simon and the reader. it takes an explosion; an acrid burn peeling his flesh from his back and you sewing him together with such vitriolic desperation that ghost almost, almost, felt bad for the way he’s treated you; and an apology murmured from the softest lips he’s never really noticed for simon to—

feel his chest twinge.

the denial sits on the tip of his tongue, razor-sharp and blisteringly sour. it waxes, and simon heaves from something more than the pain burrowing deep into his being. he trembles from something that isn’t the agony he feels for returning to johnny as more of a ruined man who is unable to bury the fear of anything that is set ablazed.

(he remembered the day when he finally came to, groggy eyes peeling open before snagging a fracture of liquid orange—fire, his mind screamed, pulsing because: i’m not gonna be able to come back—and lurching out of the bed only for his body to collapse, and he fell with a choked yell, pain blooming from all of his synapses almost like a beast coiled deep into the fabrics of his very existence.

you ran into the room, yelling his name, and something about the way your voice was so raw with worry and anguish, simon was able to calm down. almost like a part of him realized he was safe now, with you; like it knew that you wouldn’t let anything happen to him, not then and not ever.

while you helped him back on the bed, he turned his head to try and see what it was that set him off—

simon’s breath hitched, his eyes straining as a lump lodged itself into his throat because it was—

the fire was—

it wasn’t fire.

there, bouncing off a glass vase, were serpentine rays of the afternoon sun rippling across the walls and bathing him in warm light.

“is there, uh, something you need?” you asked, trying not to hover but unable to truly leave him be.

simon swallowed, running his tongue on the back of his teeth, before murmuring, “shut the curtains.”

you turned to the windows, your brows furrowed, and simon clenched his teeth, bulldozing through the shame curling in the pit of his stomach and added, “please.”

you did what he asked without prodding, and simon swallowed down the rawness of his vulnerability, watching you with something pretty fluttering in his chest but he tried to stomp it down because—

he despises you, remember? so why…)

but the feeling bloats and simon spends the rest of the exfil in silence, watching you—he’s always been watching—but this time it’s without malice. instead, it’s with bubbling interest, pushing at the back of his mind, and rising ever so slightly like a tide.

he thinks of johnny, of the way mactavish had danced around the idea of something more with the three of you, and finds that he’s not too opposed to it anymore. instead, he looks forward to the change.

no sooner after the bird touches down on the base, price pulls you into his office. simon’s been wheeled into the sick bay and was stranded there, doctor’s orders, so he only learns about what happened later into the night when mactavish finds him, sorrow so heavily etched on his face.

“tavish?” he asks, ignoring the way his voice comes out as a croak. “what happened?”

“hyde’s gone,” johnny says, slumping into the seat beside simon’s bed and burrowing his head into his palms. “they apparently requested to be assigned somewhere else. cap’n won’t say where.”

“when?” he asks although simon can’t even feel himself move, his mind trying to reconcile the events that happened because there’s no way this occurred in the fly; not when, he remembers, you looked so resolute on the way back like you knew what was going to happen the moment you two returned.

like you had planned this for a while now—

“when’d they ask?”

johnny shifts, meeting his eyes, and simon’s heart crumbles at seeing the weight of johnny’s anguish painted on his face. he sniffles, and rasps out, “probably two months ago, s’what garrick said.”

two months ago—the same night when you managed to find a way to contact the base. the same night when simon’s realized what it must be that he feels for you.

(the same night when you’ve shyly asked him what about mactavish did he like.

“the six inches that you so intimately know,” he replied, cheeky and teasing.

you rolled your eyes, groaning at how disgusting he was, and he piped back how he’s a patient and has all rights to be as gross as he could.

you laughed, chucking a balled paper towel at him and simon remembers the way you looked so…at peace bantering with him that he couldn’t even fathom you were thinking of leaving.

what changed for you? what was it? why couldn’t you have waited—

why didn’t he realize sooner—

whywhywhy?)

notes: tbh i dont think hyde would gravitate towards price n gaz bc their affections for ghoap, particularly for ghost, was so intense. also, even before this ask ive always planned for hyde to leave. their feelings could potentially risk the team morale, which price even talked to them about in the prev works (mentioned in passing)!

#anon #ask #ghoap x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #simon ghost riley #johnny soap mctavish x reader #suns #he who we love

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delulujuls · 8 months ago

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brazilian air | as12

hi, i am in my classic f1 era rn and i am currently obsessed with mr Senna god he was so fine and since it's his bday today i thought that im gonna upload this one bc why not

also im like 100% sure that this one will flop but i wanted to upload this anyway, so if you'll find it worth a shot, enjoy then!

happy bday king, 64 today but 34 forever, you'll always be missed

summary: during a month break from racing, ayrton thought that inviting y/n into his family sides will get them along even more. to the surprise to both of them, they got along even better than expected

warnings: sexual content, fingering, female orgasm

pairing: fem!mclarendriver x ayrton senna

After the Sao Paulo Grand Prix, there came a monthly break, even though it was only the second race of the season.

The end of march was very warm, but the weather in Brazil had its own rules. Just as in London there was probably a downpour and the temperature barely above ten degrees, the other side of the globe had almost holiday-like weather.

The 1990 season was the second year when Y/N took Alain Prost's seat at McLaren, thus becoming Ayrton Senna's teammate. While many did not look favorably upon Ron Dennis's decision for various reasons—because Y/N was the first woman in history to have the opportunity to race at the top level of motorsport, her debut in Formula 1, her young age, and the fact of what kind of past Senna had with his previous teammates—with each passing month the doubts started to going away.

The girl handled herself on the track incredibly well, and since McLaren did not disappoint with their cars, she practically returned from every race with points, effectively shutting the mouths of all those who spoke unfavorably about her.

Even Ayrton himself, who was initially the most unconvinced about the boss's decision, also didn't need much to change his mind about her. At first, he approached her with distance, fearing that her joining the team might cause even more damage than when they had Prost in reserve. As it turned out, the girl was not his enemy; often, he himself silenced all those who attacked her and questioned her abilities.

Senna saw that she looked up at him as her authority. She never explicitly told him, but it was evident how she listened carefully to his advice, asked when she had doubts, and consulted almost everything only with him, although she had a whole crowd of people around her.

Ron breathed a sigh of relief seeing that they tolerated each other and there were no forecasts for them to repeat the Senna-Prost scenario. However, tolerating each other was an understatement, because Ayrton would never invite someone to his family's sides whom he merely tolerated. The Brazilian didn't admit it out loud, but he liked the girl. Sometimes he even caught himself thinking about her when she wasn't around, and when she was, he smiled a lot more in her company, whereas McLaren's garage used to be a place of nerves and tense atmosphere for him.

Yes, if someone asked him about Y/N, Ayrton would say she was his friend. Someone he never had after leaving Brazil.

"How do I say in Portugese that I can't eat anymore?"

The girl asked, lying on her towel stretched out on the hull of the motorboat belonging to the Senna family.

Y/N shielded the sun with her hand and glanced at Ayrton, who laughed at her question, sitting next to her and smoking a cigarette.

"It's not funny, your mom wants to fatten me up so that I'm heavier and slower than you on the track."

"Não aguento mais, tô chei", but even if you say it in Portugese, my mom won't listen to you anyway."

"I've never eaten such delicious food, but when we get back, I probably won't fit into my clothes anymore."

He released smoke from his lungs and involuntarily glanced at her when she turned onto her stomach and closed her eyes. Her hair, still wet from bathing in the lake, stuck to her shoulders, and her skin, once pale, slowly began to take on a blush from the sun.

"You look good, so don't worry."

"I didn't say I would look bad, just that I won't fit into my pants anymore."

"As long as you can fit into the car, you'll be fine."

The girl snorted, "Well, in that case, I have quite a reserve."

Y/N gathered her hair behind her shoulder and settled more comfortably, exposing herself to the pleasantly warming rays of the sun. Ayrton glanced down her body and only when the heat from his cigarette burned his fingers a little, he snap out of it. Did he really like the girl, or was it just that he spent so much time with her that he got used to her? He didn't know the answer to that question, but he knew that sometimes he found himself staring at her for a bit too long. Despite being a few years younger than him, she had feminine charms. He also objectively thought that the girl was attractive.

She didn't have much of a different opinion about him either because in her eyes, Ayrton was indeed a handsome man. He was tall, athletic, had beautiful brown eyes and hair of the same color, which often fell in curls onto his forehead. She liked his smile and the way he wrinkled his nose, which, like most of his body, was covered in freckles. But Ayrton appealed to her only as an older teammate, someone who was completely out of her reach, and for whom she was probably just an insignificant kid. At least that's what she thought.

They spent time at the lake until late afternoon, as for dinner, besides Ayrton's parents, his sister with Bruno, his nephew, was also supposed to appear. Upon returning to the Senna family's home, the girl took only a quick shower and threw on a thin, white dress because even though the day was slowly coming to an end, the temperature was still high. They spent the evening on the terrace, and time passed in a very pleasant atmosphere. Mrs. Senna made sure that only delicious dishes appeared on the table, while Mr. da Silva entertained the company with stories and jokes. Although Y/N didn't speak anything in Portugese except for the short phrases Ayrton had taught her, there were no communication problems for a moment. At one point, little Bruno grabbed the radio and turned up the volume, pulling the girl by the hand and inviting her to dance. The girl, already somewhat tipsy from wine, agreed without hesitation and followed the six-year-old, dancing with him barefoot on the still warm concrete. Ayrton's mother and sister sang along with the song, his father clapped his hands, and Ayrton himself looked at the scene with tenderness, laughing and sipping his beer. She took the boy in her arms and spun with him, dancing, to which Bruno laughed out loud. Although Ayrton's family had only met Y/N a few days ago, he was convinced, seeing with his own eyes, how much they liked her. It meant a lot to him.

"Tio, agora tio Ayrton!"

Bruno shouted and pointed at the man when a new song started playing. Ayrton laughed and shook his head, to which his sister started pulling his arm and, to the sounds of approval from the family, he stood up and approached the girl, who put the boy down on the ground.

"Querida senhora," he extended his hand towards her, slightly bowing, "may I?"

Y/N chuckled and nodded, extending her hand, which was met with numerous shouts and whistles.

"I can't dance, I can't dance at all."

She said through laughter when he pulled her closer and placed his hand on her waist.

"Everyone can dance to Brazilian rhythms, trust me."

Ayrton replied with an assuring smile and spinned her around, catching her again after a moment. They danced, understanding each other without words, laughing only when one of them accidentally bumped into someone or stepped on someone's foot.

The girl didn't know if her cheeks were burning from the sun, the alcohol, or the fact that she felt embarrassed by being so close to him. But she felt light and happy enough not to dwell on it. She wanted this evening to last as long as possible.

However, at some point, Bruno fell asleep on the chair, and Viviane took him in her arms, announcing that she would put him to bed and she will also take a rest, wishing everyone a good night. Ayrton's mother, seeing that his dad had had enough beer, took him by the arm and, amid numerous protests, escorted him inside. The girl helped carry the dishes to the kitchen, and when she brought in the last batch of plates, Ayrton's mother hugged her tightly.

Y/N returned her embrace with a smile, wishing her a good night before returning to the terrace.

Seeing the expression on her face, Ayrton smiled too.

"They liked you, but I'm sure you noticed that yourself."

"They are very kind," the girl replied, closing the terrace doors, "you have a truly wonderful family."

Y/N approached the table and took a chair to sit on it, but Ayrton straightened up and patted his knees, indicating that she should sit on them. The girl accepted the invitation without protest and sat on them sideways, embracing him around the neck.

"I'm glad you agreed to come here with me," he said, looking into her eyes, to which she smiled.

"I'm glad you invited me."

For a moment, they looked at each other in silence, she on his lap, with her hand on his bare shoulders, he with one hand on her waist and the other caressing her exposed thigh. He raised his hand and brushed a lock of her hair behind her ear, touching her flushed cheek. The girl smiled at his gesture and closed her eyes.

"You're important to me, you know?"

"I am?"

She asked, looking at him again.

Ayrton nodded, stroking her cheek with his thumb. Y/N threaded her fingers into the hair resting at the base of his neck, stroking it lightly. At one point, without thinking or saying a word, he leaned towards her and kissed her. She kissed him back, touching his cheek with her other hand. Ayrton didn't break the kiss, he just hugged her tighter, pressing their bodies together. Y/N was returning each of his kisses and after a while their tongues started their love dance, rubbing against each other. Even though they were both a bit drunk, Ayrton wasn't sure how much he could afford. However, when she slightly opened her legs, giving him a silent invitation, he squeezed her thigh to which she sighed. He smiled against her lips, continuing to kiss her. He stroked her leg, moving higher and higher with each movement. When he felt the fabric of her underwear with his fingertips, he pulled away slightly, wanting to look at her face and see her reaction, but she pulled him closer again, connecting their lips in a kiss.

"Do not stop"

Ayrton smiled against her lips and deepened the kiss in response. He ran his fingers over her pussy and she purred softly. He began to slowly massage her through the fabric of her panties, but when they began to get in the way after some time, he pulled them off her with a quick movement.

His lips soon moved to her neck, marking it with kisses. She tilted her head, giving him better access to her. Ayrton accidentally slipped the strap of her dress, but neither of them cared. The girl noticed it only when he sucked on her nipple, which made her moan involuntarily.

"You have to be quiet, can you do that?"

He asked quietly, glancing at her ecstatic face. She just licked her lips and quickly nodded. He ran his tongue over her nipple again, his hand still massaging her pussy. When he felt how wet she was, he slowly inserted his finger into her, but carefully watched her face, continuing to caress her breasts with his mouth. He looked at her, wanting to make sure they were both on the same page. However, his actions were perceived with enthusiasm, as the girl tilted her head back, letting out a muffled moans from her pursed lips. Ayrton smiled to himself, still peppering her breasts with kisses. He inserted his finger all the way and started moving it, expertly nudging her inner, sensitive spot. Y/N had a hard time staying quiet, especially when he added a second finger and his movements inside her started getting more precise and decisive. The girl covered her mouth with one hand and grabbed his wrist with the other and pushed him harder into herself, feeling that she was only seconds away from orgasm.

"Ayrton, I- oh my god…"

Y/N wrapped her arms around his neck again and dug her nails into his bare shoulder.

"Kiss me, quick"

He said quietly, his breathing also quickening. She complied with his command and kissed him, making him muffle her moans with his mouth. Y/N came on his hand soon after, squeezing her eyes shut and tilting her head back. After a few moments, the girl sat up straight again, trying to calm her breathing. As she slowly began to realize what had actually happened, the blush on her cheeks intensified even more. She looked at him uncertainly, he laughed seeing her reaction and kissed her on the cheek.

"Don't look so innocent, you're quite a good one."

The girl felt ashamed and closed her eyes, cuddling into him, and he hugged her tightly.

"Promise me that no one in your family will sit in this chair for breakfast."

Ayrton chuckled and rubbed his hand on her back.

"I promise, don't worry about it," he rested his cheek on her head, "We can go somewhere else if you want."

The girl raised her head and looked at him.

"I won't be able to keep quiet, Ayrton. Your parents-" "Don't worry," he interrupted her, taking her panties thrown on the chair next to them and handing them to her hand, "I'll make sure you keep your mouth busy."

#f1 imagines #f1 #f1 one shot #formula 1 #f1 oneshots #f1 imagine #as12 #ayrton senna #ayrton senna x reader #classic f1

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bloodibambiidoll · 4 months ago

Note

I need need NEEEDD to know how rafe n weirdgirl! Reader met !!

I could imagine weird girl reader being a bit scared of rafe at first (bc let's me honest, I totally would be too. . .)

Or !! She's just like enamored by him and watches him from afar, but then he catches her spying on him n that's where their relationship starts !?

Ty bb !! 🪽🫶🏽

Yesss omg!! I keep meaning to write this so I’m so glad you asked!! No warnings but still 18+MDNI!

Rafe hasn’t been here in years, not since Ward’s funeral. But Cameron industries just cut a deal that his dad could’ve only pulled off in his wildest dreams and who could blame him if he wanted to boast a little? He stood in front of his father’s grave, rambling on about all his achievements since his death because honestly? He spent all that time trying to get Ward’s approval and the older he gets he realizes he never needed it to be successful. He did this shit all on his own. He was getting ready to leave when he heard the faintest sound of someone talking. He looked around the row of stones and didn’t see anyone so he started to walk off when he heard it again.

“Well, hello! What’re you doing here?” It had to be the sweetest voice he’s ever heard but as he whipped his head around his eyes still came up short. Was she talking to him? Is there some kind of ghost or some shit?

“Fuuuckk this.” Rafe turns on his heel only to nearly jump out of his skin when he sees a girl sitting in front of a grave on the opposite side of him. “Shit! What the fuck!”

You must not have heard him because you don’t turn around at the sound of his voice and it gives him a second to examine you. You’re sitting in front of a grave with a little orange cat at your side that you’re mumbling to while you stroke its fur. Rafe has seen you, of course, you went to school together and you live on figure 8 so of course he’s seen you but he’s never really noticed you until right now. You’re wearing this pretty little white dress and big giant chunky boots. Your voice sounds like honey as your doting on the cat travels to Rafe’s ears. He can’t see your face but for some reason he’s thinking about what your smile looks like.

“Take a picture, it’ll last longer.” Rafe jumps when you turn around to face him, breaking him out of his trance. “Nobody probably ever taught you that it’s rude to stare, but it is.”

“I wasn’t staring, just observing is all.” Rafe chuckles, trying to play it off like he wasn’t actually just gawking at you.

“Well, can you go observe someone else? And if you have something rude to say, keep it to yourself. I don’t have the energy to be fucked with today.” You scoff and roll your eyes before turning back to your furry friend.

“You visiting someone?” Rafe strolls closer to you, changing the subject because for some reason he really didn’t want to stop talking to you. He was intrigued by you.

“I don’t see how that’s any of your business.” You don’t even turn to look at him and it kind of drives him insane so he crouches down in front of you, tilting his head to try and catch your eyes.

“What’re you being so rude for? I’m just trying to make conversation.” He smiles at you in a way that he hopes is reassuring and he’s not even sure why he cares if you feel reassured or not, but there’s just something about you.

“Guys like you don’t just ‘make conversation’ with me, Rafe. If you have something rude to say just get it over with and leave me alone.” You look over at him with daggers in your eyes but there’s a flash of hurt there and now Rafe really wants to reassure you. He doesn’t know you, but he knows of you, he knows how people talk about you and treat you so of course you’d think he would do the same. A few years ago he probably would’ve. But right now all he can think about is how sweet your voice sounds saying his name.

“Yeah? Well maybe I just want to talk to you. And who’s this?” He looks toward the cat that has now taken purchase in your lap and reaches his hand out for it to sniff.

“Mmm, I don’t know his name. But he’s always here when I come. I just started calling him pumpkin.” You smile down at the cat sweetly as it starts to rub its face against Rafe’s hand. “Seems like he likes you, cats are good judges of character.”

“You never answered my question, by the way.” Rafe smirks down at you and something about the way he’s looking at you makes your stomach erupt with butterflies. It’s not a taunting smirk like you’d expect, it’s almost endearing.

“Oh, yeah, my mom is here. But I just like to come here. It’s serene, quiet and beautiful. Not a lot of people spend time here since cremation is the big thing now.” You shrug as you look off to the side with an almost dreamy look in your eyes and Rafe feels like he’d give anything to have you look at him like that.

“Beautiful, huh?”

“Yeah, there’s beauty in everything, if you really look. Sometimes the things that seem the most ‘odd’ or ‘dark’ are the most beautiful.” You still don’t look at him but that gives him a chance to study you up close. You truly are gorgeous. That pretty little dress you’re wearing contradicting with your chunky accessories. The cute way your hair is styled and your shiny glossed lips. Those tiny little tattoos you have littering your body compliment you perfectly. You’re definitely an anomaly.

“Yeah, I think I get what you mean.” And in this moment, he really does. Because you’re definitely odd but you’re probably the most beautiful girl he’s ever seen. “Can I take you on a date?”

“What!” Your head whips towards him and a loud laugh spills from your lips. “Are you fucking with me?”

“Nah. I’m dead serious. Let me take you out.”

“Why?” You look at him wide eyed, like a pretty little dear caught in the headlights, he can tell you genuinely can’t tell if he’s fucking with you or not.

“Because. I think you’re beautiful. And interesting. And I’d like to get to know you.” He smiles at you sweetly as he reaches out to gently push your hair off your shoulder. “Please? Promise I’ll make it worth it.”

“Fuck it. Okay.” You sigh and smile at him and he swears he could melt into the ground at how beautiful you are. “Better make it worth it, Cameron.”

All things Rafe and his weird girl here

Taglist: @babygorewhore @nemesyaaa @sturnioloshacker @strawberrydolly333 @loserboysandlithium @gri959 @starkeysprincess @rafeinterlude

#weird!girl reader #rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron blurb #rafe cameron fluff #rafe x reader #rafe cameron #Dolly writes #🪽anon

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uch3na · 10 months ago

Note

i’ve just sent out this same exact request to another writer but im going mad about the amount of fics (zero) with kai from voyagers (ARCHEIIE)

𝙨𝙖𝙢𝙚 𝙨𝙥𝙖𝙘𝙚

| pairing - kai x reader

| warnings - sub!kai, kai jerking off while thinking of reader, praise (m recieving), riding, finger sucking, mindbreak (if u squint hard enough), kai really wanting to pleasure the reader

| a/n - im ngl i was so happy i got this request bc ive been wanting to write for him so here u go🤫🤫

you always had your eye on kai. not in an attracted way, but you were always closest to him than anyone else on the ship.

but its just like one day everything — changed. when you stopped drinking your “medication” you just saw him differently. every time you looked at him you just wanted to do these things to him. break him. you didn’t know what came over you. kai always seemed like the type (sexually or not) that could break easily; even with the way he acts around the ship. all tough on the outside but when he’s alone he’s just a puddle of mush.

and to the least of your knowledge, kai felt the same way about you. he would think about the things you could do to him. he would try to sleep but all he could think of was you controlling him. taking what was yours. he would fist his cock at the thought. imagining it was your own hand wrapped around his thick length. he would shut his eyes and just try his absolute hardest to go to bed but he would just end up with his hand down his pants like a helpless little boy. and what made it worse was that you were in the room right next to him. and you heard everything. all his tiny moans and whimpers. this was the only thing that made you happy about the terribly thin walls on the ship.

you would’ve never thought kai thought of you the same way you thought of him until one day you had woken up to get a drink when you heard the faintest cry of your name while the hallways were dead silent. the voice sounds familiar so you instantly forget about the water and tiptoe to kai’s door and put your ear against it. it was almost like a mouse and a trap. and you fell for it. you just stood there — listening to him. the way his moans were broken each time he was about to orgasm. the way he would call out your name when he was close. the vague wet noises that were because of all of the pre-cum leaking from his tip mixed with his own spit. he had no shame since he was so loud and the ship was the complete opposite; so silent you could hear a mouse walking across the floors.

you just waited. waited until you could hear whatever little noises he made when he finally came. but what really caught you off guard was when he stood up to walk out of the room once he was done. you had to be quick to make it look like you had just walked out of your room too. once his door open you had turned your head to make it look as if he scared you. “what’re you doing up…?” he yell whispered. “i’m thirsty. why are you up?”

the question caused him to freeze in place. he squinted his eyes at you out of annoyance and whispered back “me too…” you could see his breathing quickening. he thought he had gotten caught. but you just continued to act clueless. so you got your water and went back to bed.

the next day during lunch you saw kai sitting down playing with his food. you walked up to him and tapped his shoulder. when he looked up at you he almost instantly looked back down. “hey kai.” you say softly. he flickered his eyes back up at you, flashing a little smile at you. it was so cute that it almost made you crack a smile yourself. “hey…” he whispered back. you decide to tease him a bit when you see how nervous he’s acting. he doesn’t usually act this way. he seems… guilty right now. “how’d you sleep?”

kai keeps his eyes off of yours, still picking at his food. “i slept… i slept pretty good. you?” you decide to mess with him some more but this time by actually doing something.

this time you reach up to his face, tilting his chin up to look at you. he swallows. hard. he can feel his face heating up at your touch. his eyes are soft and glossy. the way he looks up at you is enough to make you go weak in the knees. he licks his lips and moves his eyes to look at something else. “no no no… look at me.” you whisper firmly. “don’t get all shy on me now kai.” he looks confused. almost like he actually doesn’t know what you’re talking about. his eyes widen slightly and his hands start fidgeting with his shirt. you lean down, putting your mouth close to his ear before whispering again, “i know how dirty you really are…” his breathing gets deeper at your words, and his heartbeat accelerates. “w-what?”

you pull away from his ear and let go of his face. you flash a quick innocent smile before turning around to walk out of the lunchroom. by the time you make it to the door kai finally snaps out of the daze he was in and stands up to follow you. when he gets close enough he reaches out to grab your arm and flip you towards him. “what the hell are you taking about, ‘i know how dirty you are’?” he says continuing to walk towards you as you bump into your bedroom door.

he’s towering over you at this point — trying his best to intimidate you but it’s just not working.

“you know exactly what i mean… i know that you touch yourself while thinking of me.” he freezes, his eyebrows go up in realization and he starts to slowly back away from you. he stops moving when you grab the hem of his shirt, pulling him in closer to you. he looks down at you with pleading eyes. almost like he was begging you to make another move. but then he does something that catches you off guard. he tangles his hand in your hair before pulling you in for a passionate kiss. you both moan into like you’ve been waiting for it your whole life.

his grip on your hair gets tighter as his moans turn into whines. little desperate ones that got you so fucking wet that you soaked through your panties. kai used his free hand to open your room door and as soon as he shut the door behind him he began to take off his shirt and pants. once you were both naked, you reached down to stroke him slowly. he choked out a whimper when he felt your warm hand wrap around his pretty dick. the tip was already so wet from the stimulation of his pants rubbing on it before you two took your clothes off. “cmon baby… lemme hear those pretty noises you make all the time.” you whisper as you guide him to the bed. he lays down on his back as you climb on top of him.

his hands instinctively go to your hips as you reach around to line his cock up with your leaking entrance. when you finally sat down on him he cried out in pleasure. he gripped onto your hips so tight you were sure he was gonna leave a mark on you. you just sat there, letting him nestle inside you. you let him take a few seconds to adjust before you started to move your hips. you slid alllll the way up on him just leaving the tip in. you wanted to see how he would react — just wanting to tease him for a bit. “nononono- please just lemme feel you baby please-“ he choked out as he felt your tight cunt leave off his dick.

once you slammed your hips back down onto him little mumbles of ‘thankyouthankyouthankyou’’s left him. he was very vocal. even more than he was the night before. his whimpers were so sweet and soothing unlike his demeanor when he’s not just with you. you could feel his hands gripping onto the flesh of your ass as his moans got higher in pitch with each slam of your hips.

the room was filled with the sounds of lewd squelching and skin on skin. kai just kept getting louder with every move of your hips onto his pelvis and he wouldn’t get any quieter each time you told him to — so… you did what had to be done. you stuck your middle and ring finger into his mouth, muffling his sounds quite well. and by the way his cock twitched inside you, you could tell he liked it a lot.

you could feel his tongue swirl around the digits and his whining still getting higher even with your fingers that were just wrapped around his cock in his mouth.

“cmon lemme make you cum… can i? pleaseee just lemme make you cum baby.” kai mumbled out onto your fingers. you could still understand him quite well in this predicament. as soon as those words escaped his mouth he started to slam his own hips into yours. he wasn’t in this only for himself — he wanted to make you feel good too. your pleasure was his. the only sound that left him were muffled mewls and moans escaping his already distracted mouth. “awh kai… you’re doing so good f’me… wanna make me cum?”

his head nodding with a quickness when you asked that question, his hips stuttering slightly. his moans got a bit louder but only for a second when you removed your fingers from his mouth and replaced them with your own lips. one of his hands once again went up to your hair, tugging at it slightly. he was so close he didn’t know what to do with himself. “ohmygod, keep going m’malmosthere-“ he cried out into your mouth as his eyes slightly rolled back from all the pleasure he was feeling at once.

you could feel this coil in your stomach about to snap with each thrust kai did. you could see his eyebrows knitting up each time he hit your cervix. “there u go kai, make me cum baby…” he could feel himself losing his mind each time your tight little pussy would clench around his length. kai couldn’t even speak if he really wanted to. he was so vulnerable right now that he didn’t know what to do. “fuck fuck fuckkk- m’gnnacum ple-“ is all you hear before you can feel kai spill his load inside you. soon enough you clenched down onto him, your orgasm coming right after his. he was panting beneath you, trying to calm down from what just happened.

his hand was still in your hair when he pulled you down to kiss him sloppily once more before wrapping you in his arms to fall asleep.

“i think you broke me…” he huffs out with a quiet laugh.

୨୧ 𝙖𝙡𝙨𝙤 𝙛𝙤𝙧 𝙢𝙮 𝙗𝙖𝙗��: @ludicdoll

#kai voyagers #kai #kai x reader #farleigh x you #farleigh smut #farleigh catton #farleigh start smut #jann mardenborough #save me archie madekwe…#archie madekwe

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cowboybeepboop · 4 months ago

Text

My Dearest

“That was…” your voice trails off as you close your eyes sleepily.

“Incredible,” Javi finishes your sentence, his voice filled with satisfaction.

Pairing: Javier “Javi” Rivera x fem! Reader

Genre: smut but like with fluff as well

Word count: 3516

Summary: After reconnecting with Javi, you find yourself craving a much deeper connection.

a/n: Wrote this for my bestie bc he’s her twisters crush, but I can’t take him seriously without thinking of Hamilton 😭 also it was like so hard to even find a picture for this? Theres like no good pics of Anthony as Javi 😟 hope you enjoy!

Javi had successfully convinced you to join him, however you weren’t fully convinced this was such a great idea. Even seeing an overpass brought the memories back. The memories of running through the extreme winds, the metal digging into your skin, watching as Addy gets swept away by debris. Squeezing your eyes shut tight as a hand covers the leg that was cut.

“Hey, Y/N? Are you okay?” Javi’s hand covers your knee as he rubs gentle circles into the fabric.

“Mhm,” mustering up a smile, you open your eyes and turn to face him. “I’m okay.” He visibly relaxes as his lips curve into a warm smile. He begins to ramble and you tune him out, your eyes wander out the window once again, taking in the landscapes. The flat yellow-green terrain that seems endless, with the vast and open fields that stretch through the horizon. Clean yet musky air hits your nose as you take in deep slow breaths. On the edge of a field barbed-wire fencing lines the property with a barn and a lone windmill weathered by years of sun and wind exposure.

The truck comes to a stop at what appears to be a rest station, the lot is filled with storm-par vehicles, tourists, and storm chasers (who are only interested in the high of adrenaline). You follow Javi out of the car and he introduces you to his team. “So what do you think?” Your eyes were locked on the screen of his tablet. “Which storm should we follow?” Scott offers his opinion and you shoot Javi a pained expression.

“I think you should choose. It’s been a while.” The tablet feels heavy in your palms as you shift your weight between feet. His warm hand wraps around your shoulders with a reassuring squeeze.

“Y/N come on, you’ve got this,” his voice is smooth and gentle. Biting down on your lip you turn your back to the group of guys, walking away. Javi stops them from following you as he notices your need to be alone. He knew you needed a few moments alone, and as he and his team watched you, his eyes were always on you.

The breeze moves gently through the air, creating a soothing consistent rustle in the dry grass. Fluffy clouds dot the sky with the sunlight bathing everything in a warm, soft glow. The wind carries a refreshing, warm sensation. As it flows, it creates a gentle, rhythmic sound that’s soothing and tranquil. You pick up a dandelion, crushing the soft puffball of seeds between your fingers. The ripple of the breeze carries the seeds into the air.

Turning your back you head back over to Javi and the rest of storm par. “Let’s go west.” You hand Javi his tablet.

“The one to the east has much better numbers” Scott interrupts.

”But the conditions don’t feel right, the cap is too strong. It'll never break.” Scott narrows his eyes at you, a scowl finding its way to his lips.

“You heard her lets go.” Javi’s hand presses into the small of your back.

—————

Once you were facing the storm you freaked out, you couldn’t do it. You made Javi get back in and you drove further away. But instantly knew you fucked up, your stomach dropped as he yells out “We’re too far!”

The car came to a screeching halt as you freaked out and Javi let out a quick curse, his fingers gripping the door handle tight. ”What the hell are you doing?” he asked, his voice tinged with frustration as he turned to look at you.

”I’m sorry Javi.. I don’t know what I was thinking,” you let go of the steering wheel putting your shaky hands on top of your thighs. “I didn’t mean to mess with your data collection.” Your voice trails off as you look down at your lap.

Javi let out a deep sigh, running a hand through his hair as he took a moment to calm down. He turned to face you fully, his gaze softening slightly.

"I know you didn't mean to, Y/N," he said, his voice still tinged with irritation, but with a hint of understanding. "But we can't just drive away like that. We need to get closer if we want any usable data."

You nod and hop out of the car, watching as the storm moves further away. Javi gets out to call Scott and you sigh. “Fuck,” you curse under your breath.

“Come on Y/N, we should head to the motel,” his voice rings out interrupting your thoughts. You respond with a nod and get into the passenger side of the truck.

You sigh as Javi pulls into the motel parking lot, “I’m really sorry. I just froze, I don’t know what happened.” He nods.

“No it’s okay, there’s always tomorrow.” he smiles reassuringly, “do you want to chill out here for a while? I mean i’d need to go shower and change first but..”

“Javi I’m real tired… But maybe we could watch tv in your room for a bit?” You fumble with the straps of your backpack as you look over at him.

Javi studied your face for a moment, seeing the exhaustion written all over it. He knew that you were hesitant about joining the group of tourists outside, and he didn’t press the issue.

“Yeah, we can do that,” he replied with a nod. “Let’s go up to my room and watch TV for a bit. You can rest there.”

”Okay, come on then,” you lace your arm into his as you follow his lead. Javi couldn’t help but feel a small smile tug at the corners of his lips. He appreciated your closeness, and the way you sought comfort in him.

As you walked together towards his room, he couldn’t help but notice how tired you looked. He knew it had been a long day, and you needed to rest. You open the door with his key, you sigh softly as you let yourself in. Dropping your bag on the floor you stretch your arms out.

Javi follows you inside, closing the door behind him with a gentle click. The room feels cozy, the air slightly cool and crisp from the air conditioning.He walks over to the bed and takes a seat against the headboard, patting the space next to him on the mattress. “Come on, sit down and rest for a bit.”

You smile as you kick off your sneakers and plop onto the bed next to him. Finding your way into his arm cuddling against his chest and pressing your face against his shoulder. “I’ve missed this Javi..” your voice trails off as you turn the tv on.

Javi feels your warm body press against his as you cuddle into his chest, and his arms instinctively wrap around you, pulling you closer. He can’t help but feel a sense of contentment at your words, and his heart skips a beat.

“I’ve missed this too,” he says quietly, his voice a gentle rumble against your ear. “It’s been too long.” You wrap an arm around his torso. Finding comfort in his familiar scent.

”What should we watch?” Your voice is gentle as you nuzzle your face into him. He runs a hand gently up and down your back, feeling the warmth and softness of your skin under his fingertips, you shiver from his touch.

“I don’t know, anything you want,” he replies, his voice soft and gentle. “Just pick something that doesn’t require too much thought.” He couldn’t help but feel a wave of comfort at your affectionate gesture. He adjusts his arm, pulling you even closer as he sinks back into the pillows, the warmth of your body against his own a soothing presence.

”Hmm,” you turn your body to face the tv flipping through the movies and shows, you finally decide on a random movie. Tossing the remote to the side you turn your attention back to Javi, repositioning yourself at his side. “I really missed you,” looking over at him you take the time to admire his face. You always did encourage him to cut his hair and damn does it look good on him. In the past 5 years you’ve forgotten just how handsome your friend truly is.

Javi feels your eyes on him as you reposition yourself at his side, and he can’t help but feel a wave of comfort and familiarity at your closeness. He looks down at you, feeling your gaze on his face, and he notices the way you’re studying him, a small smile tugging at the corners of his lips.

He reaches out to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear, his fingers gently caressing your face. “I’ve missed you too,” he says softly, his eyes locked on yours. “More than you know.” you find a soft blush painting your cheeks as you were caught staring at him. You hope he doesn’t realize you were checking him out, the embarrassment send a chill through your body

”Your hair looks good like this,” you reach up to touch his soft curls, “I’m glad you finally cut it,” Javi notices the soft blush that creeps onto your cheeks as your fingers reach up to touch his hair, and he can’t help but smile at your words.

"Thanks,” he says with a small chuckle, tilting his head slightly to the side to give you better access to his hair. “I’m glad you like it.” He realizes how comfortable it feels having you by his side, just like old times.

”Of course I do, I always told you to cut it,” your hand moves down from his hair to his jaw, you brush your pointer finger over his jawline. “You look so handsome with short hair,” you whisper into his ear. Your words echo in his ears and he can feel a faint blush creeping onto his own cheeks at the compliment.

He turns his head slightly to look at you, feeling your warm breath in his ear. “You always did hate my longer hair,” he responds with a chuckle, his voice a bit huskier than usual. Your tongue flicks out to wet your bottom lip as you notice the closeness of his face to yours. A loud crack of thunder sounds outside the window but does little to distract you both.

“I love your curls..” your hand finds its way back into his hair, tangling your fingers in the strands as you softly pull at the dark locks. His eyes lock onto yours, his heartbeat quickening in his chest as he realizes how close your face is to his. He can feel the heat of your breath on his skin, and his body instinctively leans in closer to you.

His eyes flutter shut for a moment as he lets out a soft gasp at the sensation of your fingers in his hair. “Mm,” he murmurs, “You always know how to drive me crazy with that.” You smile sweetly while maneuvering yourself onto his lap.

”I know, that's why I do it,” you giggle softly while putting your free hand against his chest. Your weight settles on him with a pleasant sensation. His arms instinctively wrap around your waist, pulling you closer as his hands grip your hips.

He can’t help but smile at your words, his eyes locked on your fingers as they rest against his chest. “Is that so?” he asks, his voice low and playful. “Just trying to drive me wild, hmm?”

”Always,” you whisper into his ear as you begin to pepper kisses from his temple to his jawline. Javi lets out an involuntary moan as your lips brush against his skin. The feeling of your kisses against him sends a wave of pleasure through his body, and his fingers grip your hips tighter.

He tilts his head back slightly, giving you better access to his skin, his hands tightening their grip on your hips as he lets out a soft exhale. “You’re so cruel,” he husks out, his voice shaky with suppressed desire.

”But you love it, don’t you?” You tease softly before your lips connect with his neck once more. You move toward his collarbone and begin sucking soft hickies into his tanned skin. He lets out a soft moan feeling a sense of pure ecstasy at the sensation of your mouth on his skin.

He tilts his head back once more, exposing more of his neck to you, his hands gripping your hips tightly. “God, yes I love it,” he breathes out, his voice low and gravelly. “You know I love it.” his hands still gripping your hips tightly as he tries to reign in the growing heat between you. The sensation of your touch combined with the knowledge that you were marking him up causes a pang of desire to shoot through his body.

You pull back admiring the pinkish marks you left upon his skin. Your hands move to the sides of his face as you run your thumbs over his cheek bones. “Are you going to make a move? Or keep letting me have full control?”

Javi looks at you with dark, lust-filled eyes as you pull back he can feel the heat radiating off of his body and he knows that he's moments from snapping.

But the sound of your question, spoken with a hint of challenge, makes him pause for a moment. He raises an eyebrow at you and lets out a low chuckle.

“You really want me to, don’t you?” he asks, his voice deep and ragged as he leans closer, his hands now gripping your waist with a newfound possessiveness.

You begin to move your hips, grinding against him, feeling his hardness through your pants. Your breath quickens as you kiss him, hands owing to his hair, your lips demanding and insistent.

Javi groans into your mouth, his hands sliding from your waist to your hips as he guides your movements. “That’s it, just like that baby.”

As you increase the pace, Javi’s hands move to your thighs, squeezing the sensitive flesh as he thrust upward to meet your motions. “You feel so good, darling. Let me hear you.” His hand rasps the back of your head leaning it to the side as he presses sloppy kisses to your cheek.

You moan as the pleasure builds inside of you, your head falling back as you give into the sensations “Javi.. oh god…”, he slides you off his lap. Pulling you away from your orgasm, your eyebrows furrow in confusion as he lays you down on your back.

”What was that for?” You whine a little, his fingers swiftly unbutton your shorts. He pulls them off of your legs, his lips connect with the soft flesh of your inner thighs.

“I want to hear you scream.” He encourages, his voice rough with desire. He pushes your legs apart as he slides your panties off next, groaning at the sight of your wet pussy. His lips connect with your tender clit, swirling circles around it with his warm tongue.

Your back arches off the bed as you tightly grip ahold of the sheets. Loud moans leaving your parted lips, your face contorting in pleasure. As if on cue, the storm outside intensifies, the wind howling and the rain pounding giants the window.

He moves you off the bed as he lays against it, lifting your body up to hover over his lips. You moan, gripping a hold of the headboard, biting down on the wood to muffle your cries.

Your hips buck as his tongue working its magic, his hands holding your thighs apart while devouring you. He moans, the sound vibrating against your sensitive leash, his arms pulling you closer, plunging his fingers into your wet heat.

”Oh god, Javi! Right there!” You gasp as his fingers find your sweet spot, your walls clenching around him. He smiles against you, his tongue never stopping its relentless assault. He adds a third finger, stretching and filling you as he feels your orgasm building.

Your hands tangle in his hair, your hips bucking wildly as you ride his face. Javi suckled your clit as his fingers curled inside you, sending you over the edge. You moan his name “I’m gonna cum“ squeezing your thighs around his head as you become more and more sensitive, but he doesn’t let up. You cry out, your body trembling your release washes over you, your juices coating his fingers and mouth.

“Oh god, Javi!” The pleasure becomes too much, you push his forehead gently as you try to squirm away, yet he holds your hips against his lips. After he finishes licking up your cum, he releases your body. You slide off his face, straddling his hips once again.

Javi takes your lips in a possessive kiss as you wrap your legs around his hips, pulling his body against yours. He holds you tight, his hands moving up to cup your breasts, brushing his thumbs over your sensitive nipples.

As you come down from your high, you rest your forehead against his, your breath mingling with his. “It’s my turn now.” You tease. His eyes darken with desire as he moves his hands to the button of his jeans.

Your eyes widen as you see the bulge in his pants, a mix of anticipation and lust fluttering in your stomach. He pulls you into another passionate kiss, his hands moving to yours.

Javi lowers your hands to his belt, your breath hitches as you undo the buckle. Your fingers moving to his fly, sliding the zipper down. As you pull his jeans and boxers down, his hard length springs free, thick and veined, the tip glistening with pre-cum. You bite your look, looking up at him with desire.

“You like what you see, babe?” Javi murmures, his voice thick with need as he slides his hand in your hair. You nod, glancing down at his cock. You reach out wrapping your hand around him, feeling his head and smoothness.

Javi groans, his head falls back as you begin to stroke him, your movements slow and exploratory. “Fuck, just like that… feels so good.” You lean forward, your tongue darting out to taste the salty drop of pre-cum on the tip.

“Oh damn!” Javi cries out, his hips bucking as your warm, wet mouth closing around him. You take your time, your lips and tongue working him over, savoring the taste and feel of him in your mouth.

He clenches the bedsheets, his body rigid as he tries to hold back, wanting to prolong the moment. “Y/N, I’m not gonna last if you keep this up” with a final, deep suck, you release him, a string of saliva connecting your lips to the head of his cock.

You position yourself above his dick, your eyes heavy-lidded as you reach down, guiding I’m to your entrance. Javi groans as he pushes inside of you, your warmth enveloping him and your muscles clenching around his shaft.

“Oh god, you feel so good,” you moan, throwing your head back as he begins to move, his hips snapping as he thrusts into you.

Javi’s eyes roll back as he feels the tightness of you around him, your wet heat drawing him in. “Fuck, Y/N. You’re so tight..” finding a rhythm, he begins to move faster, his hands grasping your hips as he pushes into you, your flesh slapping together.

You meet his thrusts, your nails raking down his back as the pleasure builds inside you once more. “Fuck Javi! I’m gonna cum again!” Your walls clench around him, your juices flowing as you cry out, your body shaking with the force of your release.

Unable to hold back any longer, Javi surrenders to the pleasure, his hips snapping faster as he chases his own release. “Y/N, I’m cumming!” He buries his face in your nape as he fills you, his release coating your insides as he thrusts into you. Your bodies joined in the ultimate act of pleasure.

As both of your breathing slows, you collapse beside him. He pulls you close, your sweat-dampened bodies sticking together. He wraps his arm around your shoulders as he keeps your body tight against his, seeming as if he’s afraid to let you go.

You smile, tracing patterns on his chest as you snuggle into his side, wrapping your leg around his thigh. “That was…” your voice trails off as you close your eyes sleepily.

“Incredible,” Javi finishes your sentence, his voice filled with satisfaction. With a content sigh, you press a gentle kiss to his chest, the sound of the storm outside a gentle lullaby as you drift off to sleep, safe and satisfied in Javi’s arms.

Your shared passion had healed old wounds, the storm outside a reflection of the tempestuous desires that had been released, leaving only peace and contentment in its wake.

#twisters 2024 #twisters #twisters Anthony Ramos #twister Javi #javier rivera #javier rivera x reader #Javier Rivera x you #smut #Anthony Ramos #Javier Javi Rivera #twisters 2 #twisters 2024 Anthony mos #reader x javi #reader x javi smut #reader x Javier Rivera

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sant-riley · 2 years ago

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[Task force 141 + others with Gen z!reader] [pt3]

A/N: Some of these you /may/ have seen on tiktok, that is me who posted them on tiktok. I am green haired bitch so no I didn't steal anything LMAO. I hope these live up to yalls expectations.

The last two of these my lovely friend gave me inspiration for <3 @frogchiro

Warnings: She/her pronouns swearing, age gaps, tiktok memes (like always lmk if I miss something!)

You steal Prices hat on numerous occasions bc its a fashion abomination and you refuse to let this man wear it around you. You hide around base as frequently as you can.

Jokes on you though bc he will literally wait til it's your birthday and buy you a matching one and will laugh at your scream of disgust.

Gaz one ups him by gifting you a matching hat as well, putting it on your head as he flicks the brim.

"Thanks Gaz! I love it!

"And not mine?"

"You're on thin ice, old man."

Price gets gifted a set from manscaped by the guys as a gag gift. He uses it for his beard bc he never bothered to look into why everyone was laughing around him.

Price takes your phone when you try and show him memes, squinting hard as fuck like a dad 💀

Soap, if yall have the time off takes you to scottish football games and it's a whole thing. You sitting there while he gets drunk out of his fucking mind, hollering and whooping and you're there trying to sink into your seat.

Chances are someone's gonna shove you and you're gonna trip and fall bc everyone's so amped up and Soap threatens to beat the shit out of them. It's a miracle y'all don't get kicked out 💀

If you have tattoos, Soap is the first one to take a marker set and color them in and adding his own additions. If you were ever to get them actually tattooed, he would tear up and pretend he isn't emotional about it.

"You like me that much Bonnie?"

He would get something of you too, so it evens out. This also makes Ghost in turn get a tattoo for you bc he refuses to be out done and he's just as attached

Neither of them get your call sign or your name, but they get something personal to what each of them associate you with.

The first time you meet Alex, you're across the room doing something that has your focus and didn't realize this is actually your first time meeting him. You ask him for a hand only to look up and see him extend his prosthetic at you with a smile and you scream.

"You asked for a hand but best I can do is a Leg." Price comes running and he sees the scene and rolls his eyes.

Everyone single one of them are the definition of "my girl can wear whatever she wants bc I'll break your jaw." meme btw. You can take care of yourself but you never need to bc they will beat a bitch up.

Laswell invites you constantly to come over and meet with her wife, esp if you don't have a mother figure. She always always tries to come on base to see you and always has a birthday and Christmas present on it's way to you wherever you may be. Her wife loves you to death and they've pretty much adopted you and you cannot escape it, oh well.

Gaz buys you whatever your little heart desires, especially if he's deployed away in a country where they sell exclusives of whatever you enjoy. It's a pain in the fucking ass to try and ship a anime figure to your place from Japan but he's gonna try his best.

Ghost doesn't share his food, or at least it was before you came along. He groans and grumbles about having to feed you but he wouldn't do it if he truly didn't want to. Soap asks and Ghost tells him to fuck off.

If you watch anime, please imagine trying to get everyone in the room and trying to explain who Dabi is. They're all so fucking old they keep thinking you're referring to the elf from Harry Potter and it infuriates you to no end.

Soap and Gaz know better but it's funnier to see you mad.

Being the youngest, they absolutely force you to do the jobs they don't want to. Whether it be cleaning the barracks, to cooking dinner when able, it doesn't matter bc they'll all pull rank on you.

"You're the new kid, get to it then."

"Ghosttttt-"

"Don't Ghost me."

Soap is the kind of motherfucker to play the fifa games and doesn't understand that he's stupid for buying it every single year bc there are no changes oncesoever. He will not listen to you about it and you've given up.

Ghost will see you talk about your etsy list and will ask for your phone, you trust him so of course you hand it over. He hands it back to you and it's just, all purchased. He says nothing while he sips on his tea while you scream at him asking why he did it. He won't tell you but it's because he knows it makes you happy and it'll keep your mood up, giving you a reason to be motivated to get through missions. It's also because he knows that retail therapy is a thing for your generation.

Soap, if you do any, is actually really good at doing your makeup! He knows how to do everything and he refuses to elaborate. (As a kid he'd do his mom's makeup when she went out for dates) he's the one who helps you doll up if you're going undercover.

Ghost, Gaz and Price find you unfunny whenever you make a "wow I wish British people were real." You say it so often and it gets annoying but they also just accept it's a part of life.

Soap personally enjoys the "SCOTLAND FOREVERRRRRRR" meme and will scream it with you. Ghost threatens to cut yalls tongue out.

Other parts can be found under #Kayla writes <3

Taglist:

@devilsfoodcake22 @simon-rileys-princess

@stupid-ninja @milkmily

@lune-la-chanson @tamayakii

@teacupcollector @sweet-as-an-angel

@perilous-pasta @ihatethisappsomuchitpains

@marsbar127xx @baddump

@xncasi @king-cookiex

@palomaxaxaxa @amatchasky @wolfyland07 @diejager

@hailstrum18 @pretty-little-bunny382728 @mzfandom

If you'd like to be tagged, go to my pinned post and comment there :)

#ghost <3 #soap <3 #price <3 #gaz <3 #call of duty #call of duty x reader #ghost x reader #soap x reader #gaz x reader #price x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #john soap mactavish x reader #john price x reader #kyle gaz garrick x reader #gen z! headcanons #kayla writes <3 #laswell <3 #fem reader

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lis-likes-fics · 7 months ago

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Shijetra Nyke, Mandia

Pairings: Daemon Targaryen x Velaryon!Reader Word Count: 5.9k words Warnings: NSFW, smut, technically dubcon bc coercion, fingering, implied age gap (she's laena's little sister), multiple orgasms, p in v sex, breeding kink, sort of cheating, mentions of death and war, swearing, technically reader is black but she can be read as any race, High Valyrian, Daemon is not a good person... A/N: Hey, everyone! Was trying to hold off on this one but I decided to just post it anyway. Super excited for HOTD S2 to come out in June. I promise there are ideas for Aemond but writing sucks so much ass so it's just taking a while to get to it. Thank you so much and happy reading!

The seas are steady tonight. As the moon glints off its gentle waves, the water seems to mourn as you do. It was hard to find sleep. You came all the way out here to watch the crashing waves, in hopes of finding some solace in the sea, but even it does not seem to have the strength to roar tonight.

Your nightgown blows in the soft winds of the night as you watch the ocean.

The rustling of sand pulls a sigh from you, and you grit your teeth as you turn away from the man coming to stand next to you. You don't have to look at him to know who it is. You could tell him anywhere.

“I wish to be alone,” you whisper.

Daemon clasps his hands in front of himself as he looks out at the sea. “That is understandable, my lady.”

“And, yet, you are still here.” You look up at him, your features hard as you glare.

His voice is soft. You're not quite sure it fits him. The non-confrontation in his voice feels strange.

“I thought you might need company,” he says, examining your face as he does. For a moment, you think he can see the ghosts of the dried tears you've shed. “It has been a tiring day, after all.”

You huff, turning away again. Looking at him for too long makes your skin crawl. “I have not want of company.”

He hums. “I said ‘need’, not want.”

You roll your eyes. “Alright, I have no need for your company.”

He seems unphased by your hostility. “Even so…” he looks down at you, the look in his eyes sending a shiver down your spine, “you shall have it.” You stare at him, wanting to step back but not wanting to give him that satisfaction. He turns his body to face yours, craning his head down to watch you better.

He lowers his voice to a whisper as he leans in, as if there were thousands of people here and the secret he is to bestow upon you is too dangerous to say aloud. “It is in times like these, I hear, times where we are most vulnerable, that a bit of presence does one good.”

Despite your urge to stay planted in your sandy spot, you take a small step back without breaking your feigned confidence. “Very well, then,” you say. “You may go and fetch someone else to give me presence. I do not need yours.”

He almost seems amused, though he dies it well. He leans his head back a slight. “You despise me so, yet I have done nothing.”

You let out a breathy scoff, turning away from him and toward your humorless response. “Well, that's the whole of it, isn't it?” You shake your head, your frustration piquing once more. “You've done nothing.”

He hums. “I don't think I understand.”

You look at him, and he can see the anger simmering in your gaze. “Don't you?” You step closer to him, invading his space as he does yours, daring to play his game. “Where were you when my sister left her birthing bed? Where were you when she left the walls of the castle to give herself to her dragon's breath?” Your voice broke as the pain threatened to tear apart your anger. “Where were you when she ordered Vaghar to take her life?”

He almost rolls his eyes at your accusations. “I tried to stop her.”

“But you didn't try hard enough,” you seethe. “Or she would be standing next to me.”

He steps closer, taking the control back. His voice is still quiet, though his level tone is twinged with annoyance. “Laena had her own spirit,” he insists. “She did as she liked well enough. I see not why I should have blame for her own decisions.” His near lack of regard fuels you. “And besides, she would have died anyway. The maesters told me so.”

You shove him back, and your rage is flared by the knowledge that he only moves because he allows you to move him.

“She was everything to me!” Your uneven breaths have your chest heaving as your voice echoes across the water. “Not only my sister, my blood—she was my protector.” You sigh shakily, angrily wiping away the tears welling in your eyes. Your voice softens, though not because you want it to. “Now she is gone.”

He remains silent for a moment, letting it sit until it's no longer comfortable. He tilts his head, still standing so close. “And yet, I am not to blame.”

You roll your eyes, unable to look him in the eyes anymore as you look past his head. “Do you even care?”

“Of course I care,” he insists. “She was my lady wife, after all.”

You raise a brow. “Yet you do not mourn.”

He shrugs a shoulder, entirely unconvincing. “Everyone mourns differently.”

You nod. “And you mourn by shedding no tears and strutting through the castle halls?”

Daemon hums. “You must forgive me if I have offended you, my lady.”

You stare up at him, unblinking as your rage and grief continues to give you the strength to look in his eyes and speak your truth. “You have, and I don't.”

A huge part of that strength crumbles when he steps so close to you that you're forced to step back. You falter, a momentarily fear in your eyes at the predatory gaze in his own. His eyes seem to examine you, taking in each and every little curve of your body every crease in your dress. You try not to shrink under his scrutinization.

His voice is so soft, and your flesh crawls with the sound of it. “What do you need from me?”

You have no choice but to break eye contact. It's too much, too close. You swallow thickly, your voice quieting to a low request, rather than the command you had wanted. “I need nothing from you but for you to remove yourself from my presence. Hastily.”

He stands completely still for a while, his eyes just as fixed on your face. When he moves, it almost startles you. His hand reaches up to touch your face, his fingertips brushing your cheek. You're quick to swat him away with a harsh swipe of your hand, taking a step back. “Do not touch me.”

He says nothing, and the silence is unbearable. He just…watches you. His gaze is intense, focused, terrifying. He stands there, still as a statue for the longest time, before making another attempt for your face. You're just as quick as the first, if not quicker with your flickering frustrations.

“I said don't–”

He grabs your face, not caring this time for gentleness as his dull nails dig into the flesh of your jaw and hold you, pulling you close and keeping there, no matter how much you fight him. Your heart pounds against your ribs, beating so heavily that you think it'll stop any moment now. The fear that washes over you is both a searing chill and a molten burn. “Get off of me!”

Leaning in close, he shakes his head. “Shh, “ he bids. “Hush, little river.”

You hate that. Your family calls you that on occasion because you're the youngest of the Velaryon siblings, Laena especially. It's meant to be kind, for rivers are the waters that feed the sea, but when Daemon says it, you feel so small. You feel so insignificant. He taunts you with it.

“Don't call me that,” you hiss. “Get off of me!” You try to push him away, but as you suspect, he doesn't budge. But his next words make you freeze in your spot.

“You are just as beautiful as her,” he says, tilting his head as he stares. “Your sweet sister.”

You're stunned into silence, into stillness. You stare wide-eyed at him, holding your breath as the sound of the waves slowly beginning to build and the sound of your own heart beating away in your chest fill your ears.

You blink, confusion and shock coloring your face. “What?”

He tilts his head. “I wanted you, you know,” he whispers, his words lingering in the tiny space between you. You can hardly breathe, but you can't look away with his iron grip on your face. “When I married your big sister, I wanted it to be you I would bed that night… I only settled for her.”

Your shaking breath became loud as you tried to remove his hand from you, grasping his wrist with all your strength in an effort to pull him away, to no avail. “Daemon. Don't do this–”

“Now that she has taken her leave of us, bless her…” the slightest smirk slips onto his lips, “I am free to pursue my true desires.”

You shake your head, “Daemon–”

You turn your head just in time to avoid his kiss as his lips press against your cheek. Your squirm, squeezing your eyes shut as frightened tears spring to your eyes. Daemon chuckles darkly, taking a slip of your flesh between his teeth in a nip.

You have no control when he turns your head for you. His lips press hungrily into yours, forcing his lust down your throat whether you want it or not. Your protest comes out as a whimper, and it fuels his fire as his arm snakes around your waist and pulls you flush against his body.

You push against him, struggling to get any traction to shove him away. You reach around to grab his hand at your waist, pulling at his pinkie until you've bent it too far for him to continue holding you. He pulls away, pride shining in his face as he smirks. You push him, but this time he doesn't move.

“Get your fucking hands off me before I call for Arlaryx!” Your command is sharp, but he doesn't seem all that phased by it. You honestly hadn't expected him to be.

He inclines his head back, sneering. “And bring her against my war-grown beast?” He stalks forward, invading your space again, no matter how far you stumble back. “You know your dear thing would not stand a chance.”

The thought of your precious creature in the jaws of Daemon's monstrous demon makes your blood run cold. He's right. She would not be enough against Caraxes.

You shake your head. Your voice is weak. “Please.”

He sighs contently, his smile curling into something especially evil. “I like you begging,” he purrs. “So small and sweet you are, when you do not spit venom.”

A deep snarl just barely resounds over the waves picking up about the sea. As you look over your shoulder, you both take in the sight of Arlaryx, her scales almost as blue as sapphires, a color that blends with the deep seas.

Her towering figure stalks out onto the beach, smoke billowing from her nose as she watches the both of you. Another snarl rumbles in her chest.

The faint sound of another snarl, one much different from her own, is heard seemingly in the back of your mind. But you know you did not imagine it. By the smirk on Daemon's face, you know you have not imagined it.

He bends down, his lips by your ear as he whispers. “Do you want to do this, little river?”

You stare at her, your eyes watering at the haunting images of her torn apart on the sand. Your heart thuds in your chest, and you know she feels it because she begins to snarl again. Her claws dig into the sand, her long tail swishes the water when she takes another step forward.

You steady your breath, opening your mouth and hesitating for a moment. You clear your throat, speaking as level as you can manage.

“Dohaeris, Alarlyx,” you command, swallowing roughly. “Dohaeris. Nyke sȳz.”

The beast makes no move to leave, and you sigh heavily. Curse her and her loyalties. They will get her killed.

You steel your voice, trying to sound stronger than you feel. She will not listen to you if you sound weak. “Lyrkiri,” you insist. The smoke diminishes, becoming thinner and thinner until it has stopped. “Sōvēs, Arlaryx, sōvēs.”

She lifts a heavy claw, easing slightly like she'll actually listen.

Then Daemon wraps an arm around your midsection, pulling your body against his as he presses a kiss to your forehead. You wince, squirming in his grasp.

Arlaryx’s mind seems to be made up. She crouches again, advancing slowly once more as her snarls become louder. Smoke arises once again from her nostrils as she opens her mouth, the burning heart of her rage billowing inside of her.

You both know it's just a threat. She would not put you in such danger, but Daemon's crimes against you have officially enraged her.

But Caraxes’ distant croaks and growls fill your head, and you can't stand it. You nearly shout, sounding almost as desperate as you feel as you drop your voice and command her.

“Dohaeris, Arlaryx,” you bellow. “Dohaeris se sōvēs.”

Her warning snarls are replaced with a sort of whining sound as she takes a hesitant step back. She grunts, and you watch the smoke dissipate. Unfurling her great wings, she takes flight as she disappears into the night. Caraxes’ sounds have ceased. You sigh, almost relieved until Daemon's teeth nip at your ear. Anxiety fills you once more.

“That one is just as stubborn as you.” He kisses your cheek, his tongue darting out to taste the skin. He inhales your scent, and a shiver runs down your spine.

Shutting your eyes, you let out a shaky breath. “Just get this over with.”

Anticipation swirls in your belly, the prospect of his hands on you, his mouth, his…

But he just laughs at you, pulling away from your body and leaving you cold. You turn, surprise on your face as you try to figure out why he'd suddenly pulled away from you. Is he so fickle in his interests that he should let you go before having his way?

You have half a mind to run.

“Ȳdra daor gaomagon bona.” Don't do that. He remains close, his predatory gaze follows you. “Nyke gīmigon jaelā nyke, riña. Tepagon isse, byka qelbar.” I know you want me, girl. Give in, little river.

You clench your jaw, balling your hands into fists as you step closer. “Nyke ȳdra daor jaelagon ao,” you spit. I don't want you.

He chuckles, leaning in until your faces are inches apart. “Pirtra.” Lies.

He takes a step forward, continuing this back and forth dance—you step, he steps, forward and back, left and right. Then he begins to circle you as you stand there, feeling as small as he probably views you.

“You think I don't notice when your eyes follow me down the hall?” he asks, and the question makes your blood run cold. “You think I don't see you peeking over your cup at dinner?” He stops behind you, pressing his chest to your back and whispering in your ear, his lips caressing the shell. “You crave my touch so deeply, it makes you look pathetic.”

His arms snake around your waist as he pulls you close. Your breath catches in your throat when you feel his hand teasing you, reaching down, down, down.

“I hear you.” Your breath hitches. “At night when you touch yourself to my name.” The smallest breath slips from your lips when his hand cups your heat, his finger teasing your clit over your gown.

“Does it feel good?” His voice is a purr in your ear. “Imagining my fingers plunging inside of you? Wishing it was my teeth sunk into your flesh and not your own nails digging into your skin?”

Your legs tremble, his words resonating in your bones. You shake your head, taking a breath for courage as you object.

“You are not mine,” you whisper, your voice weak. You break out of his hold, turning to watch him as you try to recollect your wavering dignity. “Dead or alive, you are my sister's. I will not sully her memory this way.”

“Oh, come off it.” He comes closer. “Either way, your sister is dead. Why deny yourself pleasure for the memory of a dead sister?”

You slap him. His head whips to the side as your hand inspires a large red blush over his cheek. His fingers brush his skin, a large crooked grin taking his face as he slowly turns to look at you.

You take a small step back, anxiety creeping into you at the way he watches you, like prey being stalked by a cruel beast. He says nothing as he stands there. He begins to walk forward.

And you run.

Sand kicks into the air as you bolt away, your breath loud in your ears and your heart heavy in your chest. Tears spring to your ears as the exertion, the cold thrill of his hunt encourages your escape.

You don't get far. He's faster than you, and his strength is far superior to yours as he wraps his arms around you and lifts you from the ground. You kick your feet, trying to break free from his hold. But it's of no use. You shout over the crashing waves of the tides, waves that have picked up since Daemon arrived. Like they mourn with you, they fight for you, too.

He wrestles you to the ground, flipping you onto your back as he pins your arms down by your head. He looms over you, positioning himself between your legs and ignoring your fight like you're nothing against him. And perhaps you are.

“Go ahead,” he grins, spurred on by your struggle. “Pretend you despise me. Perhaps, now, you do.” He leans in close, whispering in your ear. “But we are all the way out here, with no one to hear your screams but the sea.”

Your fight diminishes, the reality of his words sinking in. You look at him, your eyes wide and struck with adrenaline-coated tears. His gaze is dark, his smile even darker. He shifts one of your arms to the other, grasping both your wrists in one of his big hands as the other strokes your side, dipping beneath your thin gown to touch your bare skin beneath. You shudder at the feeling, anxiety pooling in your belly at the knowledge that you can do nothing to fight him.

“Will you lose breath screaming or cumming?”

Your voice is weak and broken. It's barely a whisper when you speak. “Please.”

He shushes you, his lips so close to yours. You can almost feel it, the heat of his kiss as he would devour you.

And then he does. He presses his lips roughly against yours, his tongue slipping past them to taste you. He grips your side, his dull nail digging into your flesh. You can't help the whine you let out into his mouth, regretting the way you seek him out, especially after he pulls away. And he smiles triumphantly, knowing he has you right where he wants you.

“Don't worry, little river.” A quiet gasp erupts from your chest when his hand cups your bare cunt, his fingers rubbing against your folds before he parts them to plunge his finger inside of you. Your mouth falls open, sharp breaths teetering in and out at the way he touches you, at the way you clench around his finger like you'll die if he pulls away now.

“I'll give you what you've been craving all these years.”

He moves like fire. His hand is insistent as his finger plunges in and out of your wet heat, pulling more and more arousal from your already damp folds. You clench your jaw, stifling your moans as he forces the pleasure down your throat.

When he thrusts another finger inside of you, you moan at the stretch, your eyes rolling back at the way he curls them inside of you. You grab his arm, gripping it tight, though you're not sure if you're trying to stop him or not.

He moves quickly. You don't have time to catch up with the harsh thrusts of his fingers, so you lay back and take it as the pleasure explodes all over your body.

It feels so good. His fingers reach deeper, faster, too. The feeling of someone else's fingers inside of you instead of your own is so foreign. Your frantic breath makes you light-headed, and you can hardly keep your thoughts straight.

“I know it's exhausting,” he mumbles as his palm slaps against your clit, “fighting me.”

But you must fight. For your sister, who meant so much to you. You must fight against this man who let her die. Who would you be if you allowed yourself to succumb to your late sister's husband? She practically raised you, and this is how you repay her?

But here you are. She died hardly two days ago, and you were laying on the sand with Daemon's fingers in your cunt.

Being in this position is surreal. Because he was right, you had been craving this moment for years, wanting so deeply to feel Daemon's passion on your skin. His lips brush your cheek, and he murmurs into your ear. “You'll feel better when you let go.”

Your breath hitches. “Daemon.”

“That's it,” he smirks, feeling you leaning into him. “Close your eyes and give in to me, little river.”

Your eyes flutter shut. The pace of his hand, the feeling of his fingers thrusting so deeply, the pleasure scours your body until you feel yourself reaching your limit.

“Ȳdra daor keligon, Daemon,” you sigh, your voice high with bliss as you pull your hands away from his grasp. “Nyke jorrāelagon ziry.” Don't stop. I need it.

“Qilōni?” Who?

“Ao!” You! You moan, rolling your hips into his hand as he continues to coax your release from you. Your head is spinning, and you've long since left reason behind. “Nyke jorrāelagon ao,” you beg. I need you.

You turn your head to lay your eyes upon the sea, the pleasure within you swelling like the waves crashing against the shore. “Shijetra nyke, mandia.”

Forgive me, sister.

Your lips part and your back arches off the sand as you come undone. Your moans echo off the waters, becoming all the worse when Daemon's teeth nip the flesh of your neck.

It feels amazing, freeing almost. His hand continues to work out through your pleasure, even when it all fades into oversensitivity. He lets go of you, pulling away from your body and staring down at you. You watch through hooded eyes as he examines his hand, watching the way your arousal glistens off his fingers in the moonlight. He looks at you as he licks his fingers clean.

The scene is so erotic, the way he groans at the taste of you on his tongue. “Such a magnificent treat you are,” he hums. He bends down and takes your lips against his own, his tongue licking into your mouth as you taste yourself on him.

You watch as his hand reaches for his belt, and you can't help the way your legs close at the thought of him revealing himself to you. He reaches a hand out, gripping your knee and pushing your legs apart again. “Do not move.”

You do as you're told, waiting with bated breath as he unlatches his belt and sets himself free. You gasp silently at the sight of him, long and solid and flushed pink at the tip. When your eyes lock with his, he looks quite proud of himself.

Daemon turns you on your belly, positioning you as he wants you, with your face shoved into the sand and your hips in the air. His harsh hands grope your body, your ass, your waist, your thighs. You groan, your hips jerking when his thumbs spread your folds apart.

“You're fucking dripping,” he says, a dark smirk in his words as he runs a finger between them.

“Kostilus,” you whisper, taking handfuls of sand to try to control yourself. You were in too deep. Your desire for him has turned to a desperate need embedding itself in the pit of your stomach. Please.

He chuckles, “Say it again.”

You have no mind to refuse him. You've long since lost your dignity, and you've betrayed your sister like you never thought you would. It's too late for you. Why deny yourself pleasure over broken promises?

“Kostilus, Daemon,” you whine, shuddering at the way his hand strokes down your spine. “Nyke jaelagon ao.” I want you.

He puts you out of your misery with a harsh thrust into your needy cunt. You moan, your heavy breaths blowing sand into the air. “Ondoso se gods…” By the gods…

A long groan rumbles in his chest as he closes his eyes, relishing in the feel of your tight pussy. “Fuck,” he curses as he bottoms out. “You are a virgin.” He grips your hips, burying himself so deep that you feel like you can't breathe. “With all your supposed virtue, I thought you were pretending you weren't a dirty whore.”

As he grips you tight, Daemon doesn't take you, he fucks you. He holds you, digs his nails in your flesh. He thrusts his cock in and out of your tight hole, fast and rough and with the recklessness of a starving man devouring his food. The ocean rages. You're not sure if it's a reflection of your betrayal or your need. The sea is strange in that way, it's versatility.

You wish you could disappear into the dark waters, break away from this beast of a man and let the sea consume you. At least then you'd be at peace with yours, part of the waters of your bloodline.

But here are you, consumed by fire as you ignore the burn of the sand scratching your skin. It's a molten kind of pleasure, the kind that oozes out of you in lingering bliss and deep desires. You're slick with arousal, which makes it easier for him to glide in and out of you. His relentless pace smacks against you, the sound of it echoes through the air with the heavy heat of his passion.

Your position is so compromising. Anyone could happen across you. Anyone could walk the shoreline and find you being fucked into the sand by your sister's husband.

Your rationale falls short because the fear of it is nowhere near as strong as it should be. If the lords of Pentos saw you, they would surely gossip. Word would spread through the city, and that word would spread all the way across the sea. Everyone would know, your nieces, your brother, your mother and father. They would reject, disown you. They would strip you of Velaryon, you would be just another Waters bastard of Driftmark.

You could say he made you. You could tell them he threw you to the sand and took you as he pleased, ravaged you as though you were nothing but meat. But Corlys would go to war over you. To have your honor destroyed in such a way, it would be a war of sea against fire, a war full of bloodshed and hatred.

The idea has you running cold, but the chill doesn't last long with the way Daemon's hips thrust into you, full of his own fire.

“What I wouldn't give to spend every moment snug in this virgin cunt,” he grunts, reaching forward as he flattens his hand against the back of your skull. He twists your hair around his fingers and pulls, keeping you secure in his grip. You go limp at the feeling, the weakness seeping into your bones.

“Perhaps I should breed you,” he sighs with a laugh. “I'll fill you full of my seed, maybe even keep you as my broodmare. I'll keep you round with my children, always ready for me to fuck as I please. Is that what you want, little river?”

So truly blinded by your pleasure, you have no choice but to agree. You lean into the way he makes you feel, letting your troubles melt away, your concerns and your hesitations a thing of the past. They will do you no good now.

“Yes,” you gasp, allowing yourself to be ravaged. “Yes, Daemon, I want that.”

The triumphant look in his eyes shines at the way you give in so completely. Empowered by your submission, his thrusts become more merciless. He grunts and groans behind you, tugging on your hair and holding you still as you return the passion.

All of the sudden, he pulls out of you, leaving you cold and shaking. A stray whine seeps off your tongue, but you have no time to let it linger before he’s flipping you onto your back. He throws your legs onto his shoulder and shoves himself back inside of you in just a couple fluid motions. His ruthless thrusts have you nearly crying for him. The blunt head of his cock reaches so deeply like this, punching against that spongy part inside of you as stars swirl in your vision.

“It feels so good,” you moan, though you’re sure your words are nearly incoherent. It feeds Daemon’s ego either way, encouraging a rougher fuck as he gives you what you want, gives himself what he’s been craving all along. He was right. You do feel as good as he thought, better even. You’re so tight, so inexperienced and untouched that all of his cruel pleasure wrecks your body in your sensitivity.

“You can get louder, can’t you?” he asks, bending down to fold you in half for a different angle.

Your head falls back against the sand. You must look a mess, covered in tiny grainy crystals, hair all over the place. But it doesn’t matter. That’s probably what he wants. Your hands reach up to touch his face, pulling him close as he continues to fuck into you. His thrusts are shorter, harder now. You’re running out of breath quickly, struggling to keep up.

“Fuck, don’t stop!” The breathy wail feels almost like it was forced from your lungs. As he reaches his hand down to touch your clit, you’re done for and you know it. “Oh, Daemon, please.”

He’s intent on making you cum, and with the skill he’s acquired throughout his years, you know he’ll be successful. He’s already got you crying his name.

“Are you going to cum on my cock, girl?” he questions, his breath heavy and his hair messy upon his head. “I know you want to, you’re squeezing me so tight.” You cant your hips up into his own, seeking out your sweet release as he hangs it over your head. “Tell me who you want.”

Your eyes, blurry with tears, watch him hazily. “You.”

He tuts. “You can do better than that. If you want to cum, you will tell me who you want to breed this tight little hole of yours.”

You have no mind to refuse him—you have no mind to do anything but follow where the pleasure takes you. With shallow breaths, you blink pleasure tears from your eyes. “I want you, Daemon. Please, I want you to cum in me and make me your whore.”

He doesn’t know if you could have said it any better. Making harsh circles over your clit, he fucks you with all the strength he’s got. You feel like he’ll bruise you with how brutal he’s being. You feel a tightening coil in your belly, one that just clenches and clenches and clenches with every circle on the sensitive pearl he attacks.

“Cum for me, little river,” he commands, leaving you and your body no room to refuse him as he pulls it out of you. “Cum all over my cock and scream my name like the perfect whore that you are.”

And you obey. It’s like a lever being pulled. One moment you’re teetering on the edge, the next you're arching your back and feeling pleasure consuming your body in a fire that makes you shiver. He doesn’t stop fucking you. If anything, the way you tighten around him only makes his thrusts shorter and his grinding rougher. You’re dizzy and your moans are high and pathetic.

He doesn’t stop attacking your clit. You’re so sensitive, once the pleasure wanes and the movements sting, you squirm away from him, but he doesn’t care. He holds you in place and commands you as though you were one of the dragon beasts he meant to train. He wraps his free hand around your throat, leaning down to bite and suck at your neck. “Dohaeris,” he hisses, his tone sharp and quiet but full of so much of a threat that you bear through the discomfort until it twists in your gut into the dizzying sensation of overstimulated pleasure again.

His name falls from your lips like a chant. The sound of it continues to spur him on, his thumb becoming faster as he searches for that same release for himself. “Please, Daemon,” you whimper, “please cum inside of me. I need you to cum inside of me, please.”

You tip him over the edge. With a growl, he shoves his cock as far as he can go, far enough that it hurts when he buries himself so deep. Grinding into you, his hot release fills you to the brim. Encouraged by the adrenaline, his ruthless thumb carries on until you’re cumming with him.

Your sounds mix in the air, his grunts, your moans, the squelching sound of his cock thrusting into your clenching cunt. “Fuck, you take me so well,” he praises, his voice rough with the effects of his release.

With two more thrusts, as rough as he can make them—just for the fun of it—he pulls out of you. You whine, laying limply on the sand. He watches you, smiling at the way you seem to struggle to stay conscious.

He considers just leaving you there to recuperate on your own.

Daemon adjusts himself, stuffing his cock back into his trousers and fixing his belt. He stares at your cunt all the while, using his fingers to shove his cum back inside of you every time it begins to leak out.

He sits you up, fixing your gown and pulling your face to sit inches from his own. “Iksā ñuhon,” he mutters into your ear, his words clear. “Daorys kostagon renigon ao sir.” You shudder at his claim, your eyes fluttering shut as he whispers to you. You are mine. No one can touch you now.

”Do you understand me?” he asks, and you know you cannot refuse.

Not that you ever want to.

You nod slowly, looking up at him as you accept your fate. “Kessa, Daemon.”

He hums. “Good.” Staring at your lips, he leans in and kisses you. He kisses you with force and power, using a kind of domination that was quite unnecessary—given the fact that he’d already taken your virginity and, quite possibly, bred you with his children. There’s a hint of something in the background, however, a hunger, a desperation that seeps into your skin and makes you feel warm.

Under the cruelty is a gentleness that is entirely foreign to you. You chalk it up to imagination as he pulls away, pinching your cheek. “Come with me,” he orders. “I am not done with you yet, my little river.”

Shijetra nyke, mandia.

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