#m:pn x reader
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rosegolden13 · 3 days ago
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Yes, I want to be his neighbor. Of course I want to be the stripper at the club he owns. I want to be his fated omega. I want to be his co-worker. I want to be his doctor, his arranged wife, his enemy, his childhood friend, his kid’s babysitter, his girlfriend, his wife, his ex-wife, his barista, his soulmate, his strange cryptid, his favorite blood bag, his divorce attorney, his pr relationship, his boss, his secretary, his sugar baby, his... I think you get the point.
In all universes, physical forms, and realities, I want that man.
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slvttyplum · 2 days ago
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“good lovin feel so numb, ride me til i’m bout to cum.”
“fuck, oh fuck, babe… keep bouncing.”
there he was again, choso straining his fucking neck to watch his dick go in and out of you while you kept bouncing steadily.
sweat dripped from his forehead as his hands were on your hips with a soft grip, every so often losing his grip from how sweaty he's become.
his eyes flicked to yours periodically to watch the concentration on your face as you kept going, gripping your hips harder, sending a painful chill throughout your body, almost losing your balance.
choso couldn't help it; you gripped around him nicely, the erotic wet sounds only making him go even crazier. mindlessly bucking his hips, low grunts coming from his chest, drool falling out the side of his mouth, and sweat flying.
muttering to himself while begging you in another breath to go faster, one of his hands slipped up your sides, giving it a rough squeeze.
no matter how hard choso tried to contain himself and be gentle, he just couldn't.
"i'm so sorry, i'm sorry... keep fucking going." grunting those words and slamming into you faster, he wanted to flip you over and slam into you until he was tired, but he liked the way you felt when you were on top—not even just the feeling; he loved everything.
watching how your speed slowed down for a second before speeding back up and watching how you threw your head back in pleasure or even when he rubbed your clit the way your body would jolt.
more, more, more, more, more.
that's all he wanted; even when he got more, more was never enough. even with his hard pink tip twitching with cum leaking out of it, he still found himself moaning and groaning for more stimulation.
his siren-like eyes turned doe-like under the bright light, and his once dry face was dewy; looking at him in this state felt like seeing him for the first time; you didn't know whether to admire how good he looked or fuck him more.
"i need you so fucking bad, just please keep going." his voice in a needy whimper as his thumbs rubbed circles over your soft skin, his chest rising and falling rapidly.
sliding his hands to yours that were placed firmly on his chest and sliding them up to his neck, his eyes still on yours, not daring to break eye contact.
"please." the only word muttered out of his mouth, his eyes glossy and his dick still harder than a rock inside of you leaking, more saliva peeking out the corners of his mouth slowly dripping.
your speed only got faster; his pleading was desperate. it was only right for you to unravel the last knot that formed in your lower stomach.
the pit in your stomach quickly unraveling as your pace got sloppier, your hands on his neck tightening and your head thrown back in pleasure, a silent moan escaping his lips.
his eyes squeeze shut, as he feels you squeeze around him, his whole body unraveling, letting out a sigh of relief as he slowly opens his eyes, looking at you with a weak smile.
his smile tells a hundred words.
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bunnis-monsters · 1 day ago
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The Dragon Prince, in need of a mate
Dragon Prince x Fem!Reader
summary: After a desperate search for his mate, the dragon prince leaves the celestial realm to drink away his sorrows, only to find the person he was looking for in a commoner. You.
warning: breeding, mating, lots of cum, scenting, he fucks you in his dragon form
WK: 10k words
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The sounds of heavy footsteps echoed down the palace halls, a growl leaving the throat of the celestial dragon prince.
It was tiring, looking for a bride every day. Not a single woman had been the right one for him… how would he ever be king without a mate?
It made him both angry and strangely… lonely at times. Everywhere he turned there seemed to be a happy couple. Noblemen and women lounged together, being fed grapes or massaged. Even when his eyes glanced towards the common folk, he would spot lovers holding hands or sharing a secretive kiss while serving the palace.
It was enough to drive a dragon to drink.
So while everyone celebrated in the palace after another boring day, the prince transformed into a more suitable appearance, taking on the form of a beautiful nobleman.
He assumed it would be enough to stay under the radar, unaware that his beauty and elegance would draw the attention of every maiden at the bar.
Leaving the celestial realm to dine among humans wasn’t exactly forbidden, but it was looked down upon for higher beings such as himself to dine amongst the common folk, hence the disguise.
Though, with his antler-like horns and claws, there was no doubt he was a being from the celestial realm.
As he walked through a quaint town, people stopped to stare, often with mouths agape.
He didn’t notice, eyes transfixed on the ground. All he could think of at the moment was finding something to drink his sorrows away.
In the distance, he saw the glow of warm lighting coming from a small tavern.
‘Perfect. Seems like a place the common folk gather. I should fit in well enough.’
Though he thought this, the second he walked in the bustling tavern grew quiet, all eyes on him. This wasn’t picked up by the prince, and he continued towards an empty table.
After getting comfortable, his mind began to wander. Life at the palace had been… stressful as of late.
He was used to the rumors, even used to people fearing and avoiding him. But what was unusual was his own insecurity in his heart.
Why hadn’t he found a mate yet? Part of him wandered if there was something inherently wrong with him. Although he hadn’t made much time to truly search out his soulmate, it shouldn’t have been so hard.
He was a prince… yet when he looked at the scars on his body that wouldn’t heal, he felt like a failure.
Weak.
As he sulked, he didn’t even notice that a glass of wine had been placed in front of him. What made his head snap up was the sound of a soft voice.
“Are you alright?”
He looked up, eyes wide as your smell hit his nose. That scent, the way it made his body react…
The woman before him was plump, your eyes giving him a soft and concerned look as you held the empty serving tray to your… ample chest.
It took him a moment to register your words. You glanced at him and then back at the bar, a nervous smile on you face.
You had never interacted with such a handsome man that was clearly of a higher class than yourself. Was it disrespectful to speak out of turn?
Your heart was kind and gentle, so you couldn’t help but speak up when he looked so down.
Once your words fully registered in his mind, he cleared his throat. This was all too much. For several months, nearly a year he had been halfheartedly searching for his mate, and here you were, in a random bar in the human realm.
His eyes moved from your face and down your body, taking in your features. Again, you were plump, with heavy looking breasts, a soft belly, and the outline of thick thighs and hips he could see through your dress.
A perfect mate.
The prince finally looked up, studying your face. Chubby cheeks, a soft smile, pretty eyes…
He had never put much thought into what his mate would look like, but now that he had seen you, he knew that this is all he could ever want.
“I’m alright… another glass, please.”
As you walked away with a flushed face, he downed his glass quickly to try and calm his racing heart. Gods, just the scent of you was enough to have him struggling to control himself.
“Here you are…”
You placed another glass in front of him, smiling shyly as he took it. He was handsome, regal and nearly lit up the room with his beauty. Everyone could tell he was not of this world, and you felt beyond honored to be the one who got to serve such a special man.
But in his mind his thoughts were far from graceful. His eyes didn’t leave your figure, continuing to glance at your hips and soft belly. Both features were absolutely perfect for breeding purposes…
“My dear, what is your name?”
You blinked, taking a moment to process his question. In all honesty you had been completely distracted by his beauty that you zoned out. This was so embarrassing, your cheeks heating up as you struggled to answer.
“M-my name? Oh it’s (Name)!” you babbled out, covering your mouth afterwards. Oh no, you probably sounded way too eager!
He just smirked, taking your hand and placing a kiss on the back of it. “(Name)? That’s lovely… (Name).”
Your name being said by such a handsome man had your body feeling hot. This man was looking up at you with an air of confidence that had you flustered, your eyes unable to look into his.
Was it disrespectful to not answer? He was most likely a noble…
“Th… thank you, sir. It’s just a common name, I’d say.”
He reached out and cupped your cheek, his large palm warm against your face. “Perhaps, but it’s a name I will never forget.”
Your cheeks flushed at this, and you looked up at him through your eyelashes. That alone was enough to have his pants tighten.
The two of you exchanged longing glances throughout the night, and when your shift was ending, he stopped you before you could leave.
The dragon prince stood, his full height dwarfing you completely. “Come. Let us find somewhere quiet.”
Though you had always been warned by the tavern owner to never follow a guest outside, you were transfixed by his confident smile and intelligent eyes.
As he led you outside, his form seemed to almost… shift slightly. Though he still appeared mostly human, his horns grew longer and teeth sharper.
The moon shone down on them, their breaths coming out in white puffs. It was cold enough for you to shiver, but soon you were warmed by his embrace.
“It’s quite chilly at this time of night, is it not? Stay by my side.”
He led you through the night, the only light that of the shining moon. When it was covered by clouds, he still had no issue guiding you around uneven terrain and the occasional tree root.
It was then you realized there was no way he was human. You had your suspicions before, but it wasn’t uncommon for some human mages to take on animal features to help them with their magic endeavors.
This man, however, was no mage or lowly magical creature. You could tell by the way the moonlight enveloped his body, making him glow in the dark of night.
“What are your plans for me?”
Your voice was shaky, but you felt no fear. The trembling came from a sense of excitement and lust.
And he could smell how wet you were.
He didn’t answer immediately, instead lifting you over a puddle of water and setting you down on the other side.
The dragon prince paused after this, cupping your cheek as he took in your curious expression.
“I will take you on as a mate. From the moment I saw you, it was clear you were the one I have been looking for.”
He cleared his throat before he continued.
“I am the current celestial dragon prince. You will love a life of luxury and never be without…”
It was hard for him to speak when he could smell your arousal growing thick in the air, his own scent mixing in. “… will you be mine?”
Your body felt so warm, you wanted so badly to say yes…
But it didn’t feel real. He was bound to you of all people? You were a lowly tavern barmaid, born into a life of poverty. Nothing about you was inherently special and it was hard to comprehend anyone as beautiful as him wanting to spend his eternal life with you.
“You… are joking, right? Did you drink too much?”
The words coming out of your mouth felt wrong. You could feel the sexual tension in the air, yet your mind wouldn’t listen to your body’s natural instincts.
“I do not joke about things as serious as this, my love. I am your mate, we are tied together by fate.”
He lifted your hand, kissing the back of it.
“How can I prove to you that I am serious?”
Before you could answer his form began to shift again, his hands becoming claws. It was getting even harder to hold back, and you were soon lifted into his arms.
“I can’t… hold back anymore… since I realized you were my mate, I’ve been dying to taste you.”
The world became blurry, your body growing hot and your head woozy as everything faded and shifted. Next thing you knew, the two of you were in an intricately decorated room.
You were set onto the softest bed you had ever felt, given no time to take in your surroundings.
He was already opening your thighs, sniffing at your clothed cunt. A groan left his lips, his long black hair tickling your sensitive thighs as he dipped his head between them.
“Gods, you smell delicious. Please… I must taste you.”
You swallowed when his nose rubbed against your inner thigh. The way he was looking up at you had your heart thumb ping rapidly in your chest.
“A-alright…”
Within seconds of your consent his claws ripped through your underwear and his face was buried between your thighs.
His tongue swirled around your clit, and all you could do was moan and hold onto his horns for support.
He grabbed hold of your hips, squeezing the soft fat and pulling you closer. Your pussy had already been drooling with need, and now you felt your arousal dripping down your thighs, his chin covered in your slick.
It was erotic, the sound of his grunts and groans filling the air with each lap of his tongue. You tasted divine, and he was losing himself in you.
Nothing else besides you mattered in this moment. All he could think of was how good it felt to have your thighs squeezing around his head. The moans you let out had his cock twitching incessantly, and he wouldn’t be able to hold back for much longer.
“Gods…”
He pulled back, looking at the wet mess your fat pussy had become. Your eyes were glazed over, your chest rising and falling as you struggled to catch your breath.
How many times have you orgasmed so far? You felt almost selfish, already wanting more from him after he just pleasured you.
“My sweet little mate, how do you feel now? My precious, you’re glowing.”
He almost purred when he leaned forward, breathing softly against your neck. You let out a content sigh, reaching up to play with his long black hair.
“Mmm… I’m feeling pretty tired, I’d say… I’ve been working since noon.”
He stiffened a bit at that, resting his chin on your head. The prince did not enjoy thinking about you working so hard. Even though he had only known you for a few hours, you were his mate.
“Well, my dove, do not worry your pretty little head anymore. You will work another day in your life. From now on, you will be pampered and taken care of… I guarantee it.”
Despite how his cock ached to be inside of you, he decided to wait until you were rested to properly mate with you. It would take more energy and leave you exhausted…
You fell asleep in his arms, feeling so warm and safe. How long had it been since you had been held? That last time you could remember was your childhood, when you were just a tiny thing.
He made you feel small, protected, and… so, so warm.
In the morning you awoke, stretching with a yawn as you sleepily stood to get ready for your job. It was strange, when you reached for your apron on your nightstand, you couldn’t find it.
That’s when you remembered the previous night.
Your face warmed immediately, and you barely held back an embarrassed squeal when you noticed the man groan tiredly, his face buried in your chest.
“Go back to sleep, love…”
It was too early in the morning for you to protest, and you haven't slept in since you were a child. It felt nice, getting to fall back asleep in his arms, his hair tickling your cheek.
You listened to his breathing, smiling sleepily. His sharp claws slowly ran through your hair, scratching gently at your scalp to lull you back into slumber.
The next time you woke up it was nearly noon. This was beyond embarrassing, even as a child you had only slept in this much when you were deathly ill. The prince still attempted to get you to stay in bed longer, but when you protested he huffed.
“Alright, alright… stubborn little thing, aren’t you?”
He snapped his fingers, servant girls appearing at your side immediately.
“Your highness,” they greeted, bowing before your bedmate. The prince waved a hand dismissively, rubbing his temple.
“Take my mate and get her a bath and some fresh clothes. Treat her well, she is your future empress after all.”
The servant girls bowed again, raising their hands. “Yes, at once.”
They led you away, and you could only look back pathetically as he lounged in bed, watching you go with a smirk. Your plump rear was certainly a nice sight, and your hips swayed deliciously while you were guided away.
He couldn’t wait to feel how warm your cunt was when he sank into you that night.
As you were led down the halls and into the bathhouse, you saw female royals and nobles alike being pampered by the servants. They were fed grapes, massaged, and even dressed.
You weren’t even sure if they had ever lifted a hand to take care of themselves your entire life. It left you feeling sour. Every day had been a struggle to even put food on the table, much less properly take care of yourself, and here these women were completely pampered to the point their skin glowed.
In all honesty you had never seen yourself as anything special, but before you at least thought you could marry someone with a bit of wealth and settle down peacefully.
After seeing the beauties of the castle, you were left feeling… insecure. How could you ever compete with these gorgeous women?
Without much warning you were stripped down to your birthday suit. The servants weren’t rough, but they weren’t exactly gentle either as they helped you into the bath and scrubbed at your skin.
“Filthy, and you slept in the same bed as the prince. Have you no shame, human?”
You flinched as their nails dug lightly into your scalp. It was painful, but you dared not to make a sound.
“And those rags you wore… just disrespectful, I’ll say.”
Unfortunately, you agreed wholeheartedly, and wondered why such an elegant and noble person such as him dared to even touch you. After all, you had the entire day’s sweat and dirt decorating your skin and clothes.
Unbeknownst to you, the fact that you had been sweaty and strongly scented played a big part in his list for you. A mate was meant to smell like themselves, and to him you smelled absolutely divine.
You looked away in shame as you were rinsed off. Although you felt rather uncomfortable, the floral scent of the soaps and the quality didn’t go unnoticed by you. Never before had you had access to such luxurious toiletries. It was rare for you to have scented soap, but this moisturized your skin and made you feel like a brand new person.
“Worry not, we are well aware of the prince’s mating bond with you. Be you royalty or common folk, we will ensure you will look the part of a princess.”
With that, you were quickly dried off and moved along towards a dressing room.
As you waited in a small room, being told to water yourself, you could hear voices speaking softly nearby.
“Truly, one could even feel sorry for a common girl marrying that insane prince.”
“Oh, dear heavens, do not let any of the celestial royalty hear such things.”
“But I am not wrong, am I? I worry he will simply dispose of her when he is done. Even the humans know that the celestial beings here can do with them as they please and no one will bat an eye.”
You stayed quiet, simply staying near the warm hearth as you continued to dry off slowly. Of course you had heard rumors of the infamous deities residing within the celestial realm.
None of those rumors were good.
Despite feeling a bit nervous, you shook off their words. Even if you were to be tossed aside, you wanted to spend at least one day feeling beautiful and… loved.
If what this was could even qualify as love.
He had called you his mate, did celestial beings mate for life? You were human, it was something hard for your mortal mind to comprehend.
A mate… like a soulmate perhaps? Did that mean he thought the two of you were destined for one another?
Could that mean that none of this was natural, that you were bound together without much choice?
What if he was desperate for a mate and didn’t truly love you?
These thoughts swirled around your head as you were brought into the dressing room.
Before you, rows upon rows of dresses and different types of clothing you had never seen before hung on racks. A few servant girls were already waiting in front of a mirror, holding measuring tape.
“Stand here while we take your measurements.”
You held out your arms, cheeks hot as your naked body was put on display for various women. Their expressions were neutral, and they simply figured out what size you were before running off to fetch various clothing items.
This only added on to your stress.
“Your own personal wardrobe will be prepared shortly, but as the seamstresses are working, you will wear pre-prepared dresses.”
You were dressed in something elegant and flowy, a light blue and white in color. It was something you had never worn before, the fabric soft yet thick and warm.
“With a bit of work, you will be ready for the banquet tonight. For now, the prince is requesting your presence at his bedside once more.”
A servant girl led you way, and you heard the others discussing how to prepare your hair and makeup later in the evening.
You were not looking forward to that.
You were led back to the room you woke up in. The smell of incense wafted from under the door, the lavender and vanilla scent making you relax.
“Come in,” the prince called out after the servant girl knocked. After being ushered in, you slowly adjusted to the darkness of the room and opened your eyes.
He was laid out in the bed, taking in your new look with eager eyes. “Mmm… you clean up nicely, though I preferred your scent before.”
The prince gestured for you to join him in bed, and you quickly scurried to his side, shyly climbing in next to him. “What’s the reason for all this timid behavior? My tongue was buried deep inside of you last night, was it not? There’s nothing to be shy about.”
Your cheeks heated up once again, and you avoided his gaze. “S-saying things like that… isn’t it a bit inappropriate for a p… prince? Won’t they-“
He laughed, grabbing your chin and turning you to face him. “And you think a prince would care who hears him speaking to his mate as he pleases? You are mine, how I talk to you is no one’s business.”
The way he spoke made a shiver go down your spine. He was so confident… and you?
You were the daughter of a simple tavern owner, having no prospects other than hopefully marrying a decent man that would take good care of you.
Though you could feel your body yearning to be near him, almost instinctively drawing closer, you thought it was… strange.
Was the only thing connecting you to this beautiful man instinct? Though you ached when he looked your way, you couldn’t help but feel empty.
What other reason than being forced by fate would a man like him choose to be by your side?
You softened when the pads of his fingertips slowly slid down your side. He was gentle with you, though you had the feeling he wasn’t always like this.
“Come closer, I wish to hold you.”
Slowly you climbed to his side, melting into his touch when he cupped your chubby cheek.
The servant girls called him insane before, insinuating he was cruel and beastly.
But could someone with a touch this gentle truly hurt you?
“You look lovely. Perfect, I’d say,” he mumbled, burying his nose into your hair. You held onto his sleeve, feeling his horns lightly rub against you.
“… you call me lovely, but I don’t think I’ve ever seen a more handsome man than you.”
He chuckled, his chest tumbling pleasantly. “Am I? Darling, you’re going to make me blush.”
You could tell he was lightly teasing you, which led you to letting out an involuntary huff. This made the dragon prince’s laugh increase in volume.
“Oh? My little mate is pouting now? How cute.”
He tilted your chin up, taking in the way your chubby cheeks puffed out lightly, and how your lips pursed.
“Ahh, you’re going to be the end of me, darling. I can hardly control myself when you’re looking at me like that,” he purred, his voice almost a growl.
Before he could continue his teasing, there was another knock at the door. His demeanor shifted from relaxed and amused to irritated in seconds.
“Who dares to interrupt my time with my precious mate?”
You rested your head against his chest as a woman entered. She certainly was no servant girl, you could tell by the silk and thick wool she wore.
“Mother…”
He held you close, wrapping his arms around your body and tucking your head under his chin. It was almost like an animal protecting its young from a vicious predator.
The woman before you had icy blue eyes, dark hair, and pale skin. It was almost like she was looking into your soul, judging you from within.
Though she looked so different from the prince, he called her his mother…
“You are to report to your father within the hour with your… so called mate. He will be the judge on if this is an actual mating bond this time. You should hope it is, to save yourself the embarrassment.”
With one last look that could freeze hell itself, she turned away, a servant girl shutting the door for her.
You looked up to ask the prince about the woman from before, but he looked distant and cold himself. He stared at your soft body, caressing your cheek and keeping you close to his chest.
“… worry not about that hag, my love. She is not my true mother, simply a woman the emperor, my father has married.”
Though he told you not to worry, the way he held you was enough to have you tense.
The prince held you as if letting you go could only invite trouble… and you knew that woman was the reason for his uneasiness.
Walking with him through the halls made you feel like a princess. People bowed as you passed by, but you noticed others retreated out of fear. Though he kept up a cold facade, you could feel his grip tighten on your hand each time a servant or royal scurried away.
Her presence definitely had a profound effect on him.
He stopped before a massive door, so big it could easily crush you if it were to fall forward. Carved into the dark oak were images of what you could only assume was the banquet of the Chinese zodiac.
They danced and feasted all over the door, and in the center was a dragon watching over them all. The eyes of the dragon were encrusted with sparkling red jewels, and it almost felt like they followed your every movement.
The doors opened, relieving you of the dragon’s intense stare… only for you to come face to face with a real one.
“Father,” the prince acknowledged the dragon, bowing low before you blinked rapidly.
“F-father!?”
The dragon before you was easily the size of the tavern you worked at, if bigger. It sat on a (most likely) custom made thrown, glaring down at your with red eyes that matched the one from the door.
“Ah, your mate already sees me as a father. How cute.”
You stiffened as the dragon stood, causing the palace to shake. Everywhere you turned, people either continued on or stood politely nearby, completely… calm!?
So, trying to fit in, you bit the inside of your cheek and looked up, meeting his eye. You reached out your hand as he approached.
“It’s good to meet you, y-your highness. My name is (Name).”
The prince gave you an amused, incredulous look from the corner of his eye, but you could see the way the corner of his mouth twitched in panic.
The floor shook with the emperor’s laughter, his tail lashing behind him and knocking over a potted plant.
“My son, your supposed mate is quite funny. She offers me her hand like a commoner would, not surprising considering her upbringing.”
Though his words sounded rude, there was no malice behind it. He reached out one of his claws, and you shook it.
It took you a moment to register the cool feeling of his claw turning into the warmth of a human hand. He had shifted into a more humanoid form… and a handsome one at that.
Though he was older and taller, you could tell the resemblance to the prince. He was definitely his father, there was no doubting that.
“I assume this form may be less threatening to a human such as yourself. It may not seem like it, but I take no pleasure in frightening those who may become my family.”
His touch was firm, but not rough. The emperor moved away from you just as the prince’s arm wrapped around your waist and pulled you into his chest.
“Ah, my apologies, son. She’s yours, isn’t she?”
The prince’s appearance had changed slightly, his dragon features becoming more prominent. Dark scales appeared along his face and arms, his horns growing in size to the point they looked too heavy for his head.
It was clear he was incredibly protective of you, disliking his father being too friendly with his mate. It made you feel quite happy, seeing how worked up he got over a perceived threat.
Your fingertips lights caressed his cheek, and slowly he calmed down. His scales flattened out into smooth skin again, and he rested his chin on your shoulder.
“It’s alright,” you murmured, kissing his cheek. “Don’t fuss, everything will be okay.”
Something about you soothed his soul in a way no one else could. To anyone watching, it was obvious that you were his soulmate.
“It seems you have finally found the one, my son.”
Your hand suddenly grew hot, and you yelped as you held your hand up to see what was causing the sudden pain.
There was now a ring on your ring finger, the color of the stone the same as the prince’s eyes. On his hand was a matching band, encrusted with jewels that matched your eyes.
“I have recognized your mating bond as being valid. The wedding shall take place when the moon is full once more.”
The prince squeezed your hand, his thumb running over your new ring possessively. You could tell by the way he sniffed at you that he was eager to get you back to his bedroom.
Though part of you was thrilled to be tied to someone that made your heart flutter inside your chest… insecurities still lingered in your mind.
Did he truly love you? You’d only known him for 24 hours, there was no way he could… it all had to be because of your mating bond…
Right..?
Almost as if sensing your unease, the emperor chuckled. “My son, it seems you and your mate are eager to consummate this mating bond. Perhaps it’s time to show her your feelings.”
With that, he gave a nod to one of the deities lounging about nearby. “Begin preparations for the wedding… and tell everyone that interrupting the future emperor and empress tonight will bring severe punishments.”
The two of you were dismissed with a wave of the emperor’s hand, and your lover was quick to gather you in his arms and carry you back to his room.
“Father may be intimidating and married to the most evil bitch alive, but at least he can understand that the newly tied need privacy.”
You whimpered when his face nuzzled against your neck, your heart beating faster as he inhaled your scent.
“Gods… I’ll be mating with you before the banquet, I cannot hold back any longer…”
The second the door to his room was closed, his lips smashed into yours. He was desperate for you, his hands roaming your plump hips and holding on tightly.
“Your scent has been driving me insane… I need you, darling…”
You let out a whimper as he lowered you onto the bed, your thighs trembling lightly at the memory of last night. Pleasures unimaginable had been given to you, and you were sure that it would only get better now.
But…
“… are you sure this is what you want?”
His lips paused on your neck, his hands moving from your hips to your face. He held onto your chin, tilting it up to meet his face. “… what do you mean, my love? Of course I want you, we’re mates-“
“Is that the only reason!?”
His eyes widened when you raised your voice, the tension in the air so thick you could cut it with a knife. The past day you had been doubting his love for you, seeing it as only instinctual…
“(Name)… you don’t understand how much I adore you.”
You melted as he kisses your eyelids, his touch tender and affectionate. “From the moment I laid eyes on you, I knew that you were the one. Mating bonds are important, but that doesn’t mean I don’t love you outside of it. You’re kind, you make me smile and feel like…”
He sighed, his thumb caressing your cheek. “Let me show you something.”
The prince pulled back, and you felt your body ache when his warmth faded from your skin. He slowly disrobed, letting the expensive fabric fall to the ground.
His torso was littered with scars, long and jagged, all seemed to be caused by fighting. The prince didn’t meet your eye as he spoke.
“Most celestial deities heal wounds like these easily, but try as I might, these scars do not seem to heal. It is because… I am weak.”
He hung his head in shame, hair falling to hide his face. “How can I even think of taking care of a mate when I can’t even protect you? I’m-
You reached out and grabbed his hand before he continued. You placed your fingertips over one of his scars, shaking your head.
“Don’t say that…”
It was quiet, your touch soothing on his scarred skin. He shuddered as your traces each wound, every movement of your fingers tender and full of love.
“Having scars doesn’t make you weak, not at all… it shows you’ve survived so much… it’s evidence of how strong you are.”
The prince did not say anything, simply wrapping his arms around you and pulling you to his chest. All he could have ever wanted was his mate to accept him as he was, completely.
You truly were meant to be his.
“I need you, (Name), my love… my body burns with desire every time you touch me.”
He had waited long enough. Being so close to you had caused him to slowly enter an almost rut like state. If he couldn’t mate with you soon, he’d go crazy.
“Then I want you to have me… I need to be yours…” you said, leaning into his touch. His chest tumbled at your words, the scales from before coming back. This time it wasn’t out of anger, no, he was very pleased.
“As you wish, my love. I will make you mine entirely, just give me your trust and I will give you my heart.”
This time you initiated the kiss, much to his delight. Your arms wrapped around his neck, pulling him in.
A battle for dominance began, your tongues fighting but you gave in quickly. He was strong, and you wanted him to ravish you. You were giving yourself to him.
He was quick to shred through your clothes. The displeasure of such a nice dress going to waste only lasted for a second before you melted into his arms.
“Divine, just gorgeous…” he murmured, groping one of your breasts. “You’re truly the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen…”
He lightly tugged at one of your nipples, the other one sucked on lightly. His tongue swirled around the perky bud, his free hand moving downwards, towards your clothed cunt.
For a minute he rubbed you through your underwear, lightly circling your clit. His ear twitched when you let out a breathy moan, your hips bucking lightly into his hand.
His cock twitched, already erect and desperate to be inside of you. But he was a gentleman, and couldn’t bear the thought of potentially hurting his mate.
So he was gentle, removing your soaked underwear and prodding at your needy hole. “Look at that, someone is excited…”
“Says you…” you managed to get out between moans, feeling his fingers curl up and hit the perfect spot inside of you. “You’re spilling precum all over my thighs…”
He grinned, enjoying your back and forth banter. “Oh? Then perhaps it’s time to get on with it. After all…”
His head pushed against your cunt, eliciting a moan from both of you. “I don’t want to waste a single drop of my seed… it all needs to be inside of my mate…”
And then he penetrated you. At first it hurt, the stretch feeling uncomfortable, like you were being pulled apart. You’d never seen a human man naked, but you assumed he was bigger than average.
If you had to guess, you’d say he was around 8-9 inches long, and girty too. Taking him wasn’t easy, and he hated seeing tears well up in your eyes because of him.
Being inside of you felt heavenly. You were warm and tight, and he could cum just from being fully sheathed in your fat cunt… but he felt terrible for feeling so much pleasure while you were in pain.
“It’s going to be alright, sweetheart…” he murmured, one of his claws caressing your hips. “I’m going to be gentle, this pain won’t last for long…”
He peppered kisses along your neck, waiting patiently for you to calm down and for the pain to ease. The prince was well aware of the size difference between you and him, and that if he wasn’t careful during mating, his form could shift and grow larger, potentially harming you.
He was right, soon the pain began to ebb away, dulling until all you could feel was pleasure washing over your body. His cock twitched inside of you, and you arched your back.
“Ready?”
You nodded, your chest rising and falling as your breathing picked up. He could feel how wet you were, and began to move slowly.
The moan the movements of his lips elicited from you caused him to groan, his eyes flicking to your flustered face.
“M-more… please?”
Though there was part of him that wanted to make you beg and plead for more, he wanted to fuck you too much to pause and wait. They had all of the time in the world to make love, but right now he needed you desperately.
His hips slapped against yours as he picked up the pace, claws gripping so tightly that you could feel them piercing your skin.
But that light pain paled in comparison to the intense pleasure you felt as your velvety walls clenched around him in your first orgasm of the night.
“So good… so fucking good…”
He groaned into your neck, breathing your scent mixed in with the smell of sex in the air. The prince could have gotten drunk off of that alone.
Your head soon grew fuzzy with pleasure, and all you could think of was how good it felt to be absolutely ravished by your mate.
All thoughts of gentleness were thrown out the window as he threw one of your legs over his shoulder so he could push deeper inside. He watched as he cock moved in and out, covered in your slick…
When he came, you felt yourself being stretched, his cock swelling inside of you. So much cum was stuffed into your womb, your tummy full of his seed.
Something about being filled with your mate’s cum felt… right. Like it was the natural thing to do, he needed to stuff you full of his seed like a good mate should…
He stayed inside for a while, rutting against you even as he continued to cum. He didn’t want to leave your warmth…
But despite that, he was nowhere near satisfied… but despite your whines, he pulled out a moment later.
“… gods… don’t fret, my love… we can continue after dinner. Trust me, you’ll need your energy for tonight.”
He gave your clit one last teasing flick before pulling your soaked panties back over your cunt.
“Ah, my love… you’ll need another bath. I’ll fetch the-“
You held onto his hand, shaking your head. “I wanna… take a bath with you…”
In reality you didn’t want to be with those gossiping women again. The things they said about the prince upset you, and you weren’t sure if you’d be able to hold your tongue this time.
Even if some of the rumors might be true, your mate wasn’t some monster. He was kind to you, he yearned for acceptance in a world that deemed him weak for having scars.
“A bath with me, hmm? Can’t get enough of me can you?”
Though he was teasing you, it was clear the fact you wanted to stay near him brought the prince endless joy. “It seems my puppy knows where her home is already.”
This made you pout, and he cooed over you. “Oh, don’t make that face, I’m joking.”
With that he lifted you up, kissing your forehead. “Of course you can bathe with me. I’d rather not have anyone else see you covered in my seed anyways.”
You let him rinse you off, his hands lingering on your messy cunt as his cock fucked your thighs. You were both still feeling needy, wanting to fuck like rabbits, but were holding back.
It wasn’t easy, and you felt your cheeks grow warm over how much a whore you’d become in 24 hours. All you could think of was him sinking his cock inside of you again…
“Mmm…” he purred against your neck, rubbing the washcloth over your tits as his cock stayed nestled between your thighs. “I don’t think I’ll ever get used to your body…”
He gently squished your soft belly, playing with your warm and malleable fat. “So squishy, I love it so much…”
From one look around the palace you noticed most of the women were quite thin, so it was safe to assume he really had never been in the arms of a woman like you.
You were chubby, with thick thighs and an ample bosom. To just commoners, you were seen as a fertile woman that could handle childbirth without any problems.
And it seemed his dragon side went completely feral at that thought.
The two of you cuddled as you waited for the servant girls to bring your fitted dresses. There was a fluffy robe for each of you waiting on the freshly cleaned bed after your bath.
This was what being rich probably felt like. Being waited on hand and foot, not even having to tell someone to clean your cum and sweat soaked sheets.
With an embarrassed squee, you made a mental note to thank the women that had to clean that up later. It couldn’t have been an easy task.
A knock on the door caused you to look up. The servant girl from before bowed, walking in and offering her hand.
“I can dress you n-“
The prince pulled you back into his lap, growling lowly as his scales popped up all over his body. Even his face looked more reptilian than human.
“Don’t you dare touch her without my permission.”
You blinked in surprise, glancing up at him and raising an eyebrow. He seemed almost feral, and you could feel him rubbing against you, trying to make sure you were covered in his scent.
The servant girl was on the floor, trembling and holding her arms up to defend herself, which caused your mate to ease up. You could tell he felt guilty for lashing out at a defenseless woman, but he was on edge knowing you’d be seeing his stepmother again at dinner.
“… I apologize, I shouldn’t have yelled at you.”
His grip loosened on you, allowing you to feel all forward and help the woman up. “Get her dressed… then take the day off.”
You glanced back at him as the servant girl dressed yiu with shaking hands. It was clear he felt terrible despite the cold facade he had up. You knew you mate well, already able to tell when he was upset.
“My love…”
He perked up when you were fully dressed, your hair and makeup done to perfection. The prince’s tail slapped against the floor, his cheeks flushed a light pink.
“You’re gorgeous…”
When he realized how lovestruck he looked, the prince cleared his throat. His signature cocky smirk overtook his face once more, and he offered his arm to you. “May I escort you to the banquet, my princess?”
You gave him a fond smile, taking his arm. “It would be an honor, my prince.”
He escorted you to the banquet, barely holding back from grabbing your ass as his hand slipped to your lower back. You just smelled way too fragrant, making his cock twitch in his pants as he imagined being inside of you again.
“Welcome.”
The prince froze in place, his hand pausing on the small of your back as he met eyes with his father’s wife.
“Mother. Thank you for putting this together…” he said, his tail slowly wrapping around your lower half and pulling you close. It seemed his dragon features became more prominent when he wanted to protect you…
“I hope your little… mate knows proper etiquette. She will not embarrass me at this banquet. Having a commoner, a mere human peasant as a mate is already humiliating enough, so make sure you keep her in check.”
Your smile faltered, an uncomfortable silence falling over the two of you.
The prince’s jaw tensed up. “… don’t speak of her as if she is not here. Whether you like it or not, she’s my mate and I love her.”
Her face became even colder, her eyes narrowing. “You should watch who you’re talking to. I’m the empress, y-“
“And? (Name) will soon be the empress herself, so have some damn respect!”
His stepmother drew back, clutching her pearls. “I hope you know your father will hear about this!”
With that, she turned on her heels and left. You glanced at him, holding onto his sleeve. “… why does she treat you like that? You don’t deserve it…”
He huffed, crossing his arms. “It’s because I’m the son of a concubine. She hasn’t been able to birth a son for my father, meaning none of her children will be able to take the throne. It’s pathetic, and I’m not afraid of her anymore.”
He pulled out your chair for you, smiling fondly. “When I was a child, she used to terrorize me… but I have someone I need to protect now. I don’t have time to be afraid of some old hag.”
Before you could sit, he took your seat and pulled you into his lap. “Maybe it’s better if you stay close. She can be pretty vindictive. And…”
You felt his bulge rub lightly against you.
“We should have some fun at our own banquet, shouldn’t we?”
The table was filled with various foods, some you had never seen before, but everything smelled absolutely delicious.
There were deities taking seats all around you, some glancing your way but quickly turning when the prince bared his fangs. Not a single person dared to challenge him, not when his protectiveness was high due to mating with you for the first time.
The emperor and empress entered the banquet hall, and everyone stood besides you and the prince. He kept you seated on his lap, lightly moving your hips along his clothed erection.
The two took their seats, and the emperor waved his hand, causing everyone to sit as well.
“As you all know by now, you've all been gathered here to celebrate my son’s success in finding his mate. Now that he has one, the throne shall be passed down to him after the wedding.”
Whispers broke out among the dinner guests, some upset and others curious. You wanted to hide away, having everyone’s eyes on you made your heart race.
“Silence.”
Not a single peep could be heard when the emperor’s voice rang out in the banquet hall, echoing off the walls.
“I heard my son was disrespectful towards the empress. Was that right, my son?”
The empress stared down at the happy couple, her lip twitching into a sinister smile. The prince gave his father a nod.
“She bad mouthed my mate. If you were in my shoes, you would have done the same thing.”
Before the empress could retort, the emperor held up his hand. “I see. I hope my family can get along in the future. After all, my son will soon be the emperor.”
His eyes shifted towards the empress. “Some of you would do well to remember that soon, he will be the one in charge.”
The empress quietly seethed after that, and the banquet continued without a hitch. As you ate, he rubbed at your belly, his fingers occasionally brushing against your crotch.
He was an absolute horndog, needing you like a man dying of thirst needs water.
“We’ll be taking our leave now,” your mate announced once you both had your fill. He did nothing to hide his erection, lifting you into his arms.
“I hope you keep your promise to make sure no one bothers us, father.”
The emperor simply chuckled, waving the two of you away. “Go on, you won’t be disturbed.”
With every step he took towards your shared bedchambers, the prince became more beastly. It seemed it was hard to keep his human form when he was this needy for you.
The second you were both behind closed doors, his cock was already out of his pants and rubbing against your back, his hands trembling with excitement as he lifted your dress to stare at your drooling cunt.
“You need me, don’t you princess?”
His fingers dragged along your wetness, gathering up your slick before bringing it to his mouth. “I could taste you for hours…”
You felt his fingers pump in and out of you, and this time he wasn’t as gentle. He bit down on your thigh, leaving a few hickeys and bite marks along your soft flesh.
Anyone that saw you would know you were his, the prince would make sure of that.
Your brain was already starting to turn to mush, you weren’t sure if you’d be completely luciduribg this. It just felt so good, he was an expert at this.
His long, textured tongue lapped at your folds. It was almost like a cat’s tongue, just less rough, and it was replacing his fingers. That’s how long it was.
He tongue fucked you, his hands squeezing your thighs as he drew out your moans and cries, lightly smacking your ass when you squirmed. It was a gentle warning to stay still…
The prince wanted to enjoy his meal.
You came around his tongue, clenching as your hips bucked wildly upwards, and only then did he draw back and give you a lust filled look.
That’s when he slowly pushed his cock into you, the familiar feeling of you warmth making him melt against you. Nothing else had ever made him feel so at home, he only got this feeling when he was buried inside of your cunt. This was where he was supposed to plant his seed, and he had to breed you.
He rammed into you, moving his lips to your neck to suck and bite at you as he pounded your poor pussy.
But after a moment, he pulled out, his hand on your belly as he panted softly. The way you whimpered and begged for him to continue was endearing, but he had other things in mind.
“You’re mine… and I just can’t hold back anymore…”
His form frew, his cock nearly doubling inside as he became the closest to a dragon yet. Dark scales covered his body, massive arms at eaither of your sides keeping you caged underneath him. His scaly underbelly brushed against you,
Though his cock was intimidatingly big and would stretch you out to your limit, he knew he could fit it inside of you.
It throbbed, laying against your belly as he leaned forward to nudge his dragon head against your face in an affectionate and possessive display.
Though for a moment you felt fear seeing such a beast hovering over you, his eyes met yours and you relaxed. This was still the prince… and you loved him even in this form. Not despite it, no, you adored his smooth black scales that felt like cool river rocks and the warmth of his belly.
“I need you…” he murmured, his chest rumbling with a purr. “If… you don’t want this, I’ll-“
You lifted your hips, letting the top lip of his cock rub against your folds. He let out a growl, his hips snapping forward, and you felt him pushing in.
Even though the stretch felt like your virginity was being taken for a second time, you kissed his snout. “O want this…”
With your confirmation, he sunk fully in, giving you a moment to adjust before he began to move.
Moans and whimpers echoed through the room as your lover fucked you stupid. With each slap of his hips against yours, you saw stars.
Your tummy bulged with his cock, his claw running over the imprint. “You’re taking me so well, such a good little mate…”
His balls tightened, and he roared as he came inside of you for the first time that night. Hot, thick ropes of sticky cum shot inside of you, filling your womb and making your belly feel hot.
But he wasn’t done with you, not even close.
The prince turned you on your back, his teeth sinking into your shoulder as he mounted you, pounding your pussy at an animalistic pace. Your cunt clenched around him so perfectly, the fat flesh on your ass rippling with each powerful thrust.
A clawed hand reached between your legs, carefully rubbing at your clit. He loved the way you came around his cock, how you cried out for more even as you were stuffed to the brink with his cum.
“I know, my sweet, you want it all don’t you? Selfish little thing, but I love you all the same.”
He pushed your face into the pillow, growling and purring into your ear as he listened to your muffled moans. You were drooling, your eyes glazed over with pleasured tears, and his chest swelled with pride to know he was the one making you feel this way.
No one else could see you in this state. Your body bare and covered in your own cum, his beginning to drip out of your cunt. You were an utter mess, only able to moan and babble out pleas for more, and each time you did he fulfilled your requests.
After all, he was a good mate. You wanted him to touch you, to increase his speed, or change the angle of his hips so his cock hit the perfect spot? He’d do so in a heartbeat, all to please you.
The prince slumped over you, slowly reverting back to his humanoid form as he came inside of you again. You were worn out, and he could see your pussy clenching around nothing when he pulled out.
“Aww, still needy…”
He gathered up some of his cum, cooing softly as he shoved it back into you with his fingers, pumping them in and out. “Look at you, wasting all of this. Naughty girl, do I have to start all over again?”
The night was long, and every time you grew too exhausted to carry on, he used a bit of his power to rejuvenate you. Heated kisses were left along your bruised skin, a satisfied purr leaving his throat as he spotted some of the hickeys and bites he had given you earlier.
“You look so pretty, decorated with my marks. No one else would dare to even lay a finger on you, not when you’re completely covered in my scent and bites.”
He nuzzled against your neck as you sat on his lap, cockwarming him. The prince was kind enough to give you a break, though he couldn’t bear to pull out of you, even for a second.
The prince smiled fondly, rubbing his hand over your swollen belly. “You know… I’d be happy if you were able to carry my young, but I know there’s a chance it won’t happen due to our difference in anatomy.”
He nibbled softly on your neck and shoulder. “But I don’t care, you’re my mate regardless. Having children would be nice but it’s not a necessity.”
You sighed in relief. In all honesty, part of you had been afraid he would abandon you for another celestial deity if you could not produce an heir. You were only human after all…
His teeth grazed your jaw, but you felt no fear. “Mmm… I’ve only known you a day but it feels like an eternity. Perhaps that is what being soul bonded to someone feels like…”
“I feel that way too… it’s like we’ve always been together, or at least… we were meant to be.”
The two of you shared a kiss, one of his hands on your ample breast, squeezing the soft flesh as his tongue ran across yours.
Once you both were worn out and the sun had come up, he finally curled up in bed with you to rest properly. Binge again you felt almost like a newborn baby being held and protected, safe and warm. You were getting used to this kind of thing… getting used to being loved.
When you awoke with a whine, you were being carried away by the prince. He glanced down, giving you a quick kiss. “Quiet now, love. We’re going to escape for a bit. Let’s call it our early honeymoon.”
You let out a laugh, quickly shushed by your mate. “But we haven’t even married yet, love.”
The prince grinned. “Yes, but once we’re married I’ll have too many responsibilities to take care of because I’ll be emperor. Let’s enjoy our freedom until then.”
He leapt across a sea of stars, and you reached down to touch it. Bits of stardust clung to your fingertips, glowing brightly.
“There’s a hot spring, we’ll relax there for a few days… or until they notice we’re missing.”
The celestial hot springs were beautiful, and once you stepped into the water, you felt your body relax and melt. “Oh wow…”
The prince pulled you in, holding you in his lap. “B-but this isn’t the mixed bath, you shouldn’t-“
You were quieted when his cock nudged against you. The two of you were both still very sensitive from your mating bond, there was no way you could say no to having him inside of you.
“Mmm…”
He admired your curves, one of his hands giving your soft belly a squish as you lowered yourself onto his cock. “Pretty girl knows where the best seat in the house is, doesn’t she?”
You pouted, but he was right. The last few days had been utter bliss, you were already addicted to your mate’s scent and cum.
Just a whiff of his cologne or musk was enough to have you clench around him, and he was close to bursting when he smelled your arousal.
“Good girl, my sweet little mate…”
He bounced you on his cock lazily, sinking into the water a bit as he licked at your neck.
“I love you, (Name).”
You leaned against his chest, letting him guide your hips up and down. He was good at this, knowing when to speed up or change his rhythm to really get you going.
“And I love you, my prince. More than anything… you’ve made my life worth living.”
He tucked your head under his chin, embracing you. It wasn’t long before the two of you were done in the hot springs and ready to continue your love making in the bedroom.
The two of you spent several days at the hot spring, enjoying the water, food, and making love as often as possible. By the time someone came to pick you up, you were sure the hot spring was at least 80% cum.
‘Sorry, future customer,’ you thought to yourself, leaving against the prince as he guided you to the carriage.
It had all been like a dream. He had whisked you away into a fairy tale world, making you feel like a real life princess.
For the rest of your life, he would worship and adore you. With every kiss and touch, that fact was made clear.
To be loved by the prince was an honor. You were the thing he treasured the most, and you would continue to love him just as he was.
“Do you think dreams come true?” your asked, leaning against his shoulder as the carriage continued on towards the palace.
“Mhm, I do,” the prince murmured, pulling you closer. “Because I’ve been dreaming of this my entire life… and I finally have you.”
You smiled and drifted off in his arms, feeling like the luckiest girl ever.
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NSFW TAGLIST: @avalordream @icommitwarcrimes @bazpire @im-eating-rn @anglingforlevels @kinshenewa @pasteldaze @yoongiigolden @peachesdabunny @murder-hobo @leiselotte @misswonderfrojustice @dij-ology @i8kaeya @lollboogurl @h3110-dar1in9 @keikokashi @aliceattheart @mssmil3y @namjoons-t1ddies @izarosf1833 @healanette @lem-hhn @spufflepuff @honey-crypt @karljra @zyettemoon1800 @exodiam @vexillum-moeru @imperfectlyperfectprincess1 @enchantedsylveon @mysticranger575 @readeryn68 @danielle143 @kittenlover614 @filthybunny420 @annavittoria-mm @makimamybelovedwife @blubearxy @omglovelylaila @toocollectionchaos-universe-blog @fruk-you-usuk-fans @wil10wthetree @hammerhead96-blog @slightlyusedfloormat @bubblez-blop @sunshineangel-reads @heroneki-neko @soapybabyboop @anonymouskiwi
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ghouljams · 2 days ago
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Roommate!Soap who's a fine roommate(pays his rent and bill shares on time) except that he has this aversion to closed doors and personal space that leads to you carrying a travel lock into the bathroom whenever you need to shower (he whines on the other side of the door about needing to kiss, you're so cruel to kick a man out of the bathroom) and only being able to masturbate when he's deployed because if you're quiet in your room too long he'll let himself in to "check on you" and you just know the bastard is trying to catch you with your hand between your legs.
(And it's such a bonnie thing when you do, of course he'd want to see it in person when all he's had to sate himself with is a grainy video feed.)
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caffieneaddictt18 · 2 days ago
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little idea: poly!141 caring for a chubby reader who doesnt understand what its like to have someone care for them
like, Price makes sure that you eat, especially on the days where your body dysmorphia hits harder than normal. You always look confused while pulling out your own lunch, saying you brought it with you. Its a salad with no nutritional value other than barely any calories. John takes it and gives you the lunch that he got for you: a filling lunch with plenty of calories, carbs, and protein to keep you going for the day. Just listen to him. Trust me.
Simon who likes to workout with you: doing push-ups with you on his back, hip thrusts (😉) as you sit on his lap, etc. “Luv, I do my cardio at home” as he winks at you from behind the mask type shi
Gaz who loves to go shopping with you and will actually pay attention to the clothes you try on, complimenting you and even picking stuff out that he likes and wants to see on you. You blush from not having the same attention from exes and tell him that he doesnt have to be here while you try your stuff on. That you can find him if he wants to go look at stuff. He VEHEMENTLY denies leaving. “Why would I leave when I have a pretty darling to look at?”
Johnny who cannot get enough of your soft skin. His hands are always on you, always on the plush parts of your body. If you have hip dips, his hands like to rest there. He claims thats theres no better place for his hands to rest when he’s not groping at your tummy, thighs, rolls, tits- You blush every time his hands rest on the plusher parts of your hips or on your tummy, pushing his hands off just for him to put them back on. “Johnny, you dont need to touch that.”
“‘N why no’?”
“I know it can be-“
“Bonnie, Im keepin my ‘ands on ya until yer understand that I don’ want em off ya.”
Just a poly!141 taking care of you by also doing simple things around that house like chores when its your chore day, dishes when you cook, etc. JUST POLY!141 TAKING CARE OF YOUR STUPIDLY INDEPENDENT AND SLIGHTLY INSECURE SELF
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lynnieverse · 3 days ago
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fresh out the slammer // rafe cameron
oneshot
first love!rafe cameron x heartbroken!reader
synopsis: you just ended things with your boyfriend and find yourself driving to the only person you'd ever called home...
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𝒏𝒐𝒘 𝒑𝒓𝒆𝒕𝒕𝒚 𝒃𝒂𝒃𝒚, 𝒊'𝒎 𝒓𝒖𝒏𝒏𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒃𝒂𝒄𝒌 𝒉𝒐𝒎𝒆 𝒕𝒐 𝒚𝒐𝒖…𝒇𝒓𝒆𝒔𝒉 𝒐𝒖𝒕 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒔𝒍𝒂𝒎𝒎𝒆𝒓, 𝑰 𝒌𝒏𝒐𝒘 𝒘𝒉𝒐 𝒎𝒚 𝒇𝒊𝒓𝒔𝒕 𝒄𝒂𝒍𝒍 𝒘𝒊𝒍𝒍 𝒃𝒆 𝒕𝒐...
The rain pelted against the windshield in waves as you white-knuckled the steering wheel. Deep breaths kept the sobs at bay, but they still clawed at your throat. 
Stupid, stupid, stupid, you thought. How could it have taken so long to leave?
The soft melody of a familiar tune began, causing you to shakily twist the volume knob, letting the lyrics wash over the ache. 
Another summer taking cover, rolling thunder, he don’t understand me…
He never did. Never would. 
Flashes of awkward conversations and forced laughter blurred together, a montage of things left unsaid.
Splintered back in winter, silent dinners, bitter, He was with her in dreams…
A tear trailed down, taking you back to the moment everything changed. The front door swinging open, the stupid excitement bubbling in your chest, the bright smile that disappeared the second the bedroom door cracked open. 
Him. Her. Together. 
Her breathy moans echoed in the back of your mind. Seeing his face contorted in pleasure as you watched, horrified. Your name had been on his lips that morning. Hers was now.
And now here you were—alone, cold, licking wounds all the way back to the place you swore never to return. You’d moved away for a reason, trading in the tight-knit community for big city life. You thought it’d be good for your writing, getting new life experience and being close to the big publishing houses. 
You’d left OBX in the dust, gone, never to be seen again. Except here you were, on your way back after your whole life blew up in a matter of hours. 
The thought of dragging yourself back to the front door of your parents’ house made bile rise to the back of your throat. Mom’s pity. Dad’s quiet disappointment. No, that wasn’t an option. Not yet.  
Before the decision had fully processed, the car veered down a familiar street. Your heart pounded harder with every turn, every streetlight leading you back to him. 
Then, there it was. 
The nerves started then, going haywire. The car eased to a stop by the mailbox.
One knock away. 
Fuck.
He probably wouldn’t even want to see you. 
The stone steps were slick with rainfall as you approached, the tiny droplets seeping through the thin fabric of your shirt. You’re shivering as you raise your fist to the door. 
Tap tap tap. 
You waited for what felt like years, arms crossed over your stomach. Suddenly, the door swung open, and there he stood. Your eyes rake over his figure, taking in the low-hanging sweatpants and black tank top. He’d been working out, muscles more defined than you remembered. But his face, his eyes, they were the same. 
His mouth parted slightly, surprise evident as he stared, like he was unsure if he could trust his own eyes. A beat of silence stretched between you. Then another…and another. Doubt clouded your mind, embarrassment creeped in. Your voice trembled, barely above a whisper. 
“I…I’m sorry. This was stupid, I should go.” You turn around on your heel and start jogging back to the car, eager to get out of the rain, and away from Rafe. You’re almost at the end of the driveway when a warm hand encloses around your wrist, pulling you to a stop. 
“Wait,” his soft voice pleads. You close your eyes at the sound, having missed it all these years. When you turn around, he’s close enough that his face is inches from yours. Muscle memory begs you to pull him closer, to feel his skin and taste his lips. The water had soaked you both to the bone by now, causing full body shakes. Rafe wordlessly pulls you back to the front door, urging you through the threshold and into the dryness of the mud room. 
Droplets dripped from the stringy strands of hair cascading down your back, a small puddle forming. Rafe disappeared for a moment before returning with two towels, draping one over your shoulders. His hands linger for a moment, like he wants to touch you, pull you in, but he doesn’t. You hug the soft material close, looking up and watching him dry off. 
“Come on, I’ll get you some clothes.” You follow him up the stairs, knowing the route like the back of your hand, before stopping in his doorway. It felt weird being in his space again, almost taboo, but one wave of his hand had you by his side in a heartbeat. He stacked sweatpants and a hoodie in your arms, and left you alone to change, closing the door behind him. 
You marvel at how things have changed; the old Rafe would have never kept this clean of a room. Even his bed was made. Shaking your head you strip, toweling off and forcing the large hoodie over your head. It smelled like him. Sandalwood and whiskey. Intoxicating. 
The sweatpants were a little long, and you have to tie them pretty tight, but they fit, instantly warming up your goosebump ridden legs. When you swing his bedroom door open, Rafe looks up. He’s leaning against the wall, arms crossed over his chest, and in dry clothes. He looks you up and down, something flashing in his eyes, before clearing his throat. 
“So…” 
You break eye contact, suddenly all that embarrassment flooding back. “I didn’t know if you’d want to see me,” you mumble. He moves, standing right in front of you. Gripping your chin, he tilts your head up, forcing you to keep eye contact.  
“Of course I want to see you, baby. Why wouldn’t I?” His voice is quiet, careful, like the answer might break him. That name. You hadn’t heard it in so long, not from his lips. “I thought you’d never come back.” The sadness in his voice, the way his hands moved to caress your cheeks…it was too much. All at once, the dam broke. Your broken sobs fill the silent hallway, tears soaking your cheeks. Without hesitation he wraps you in his arms, resting his chin atop your head. 
You’d been locked away for so long, judgement clouded by the perfect fantasy life you’d built up in your head. You thought you were happy, but then why was he swirled into all of your poems? He had always been your muse, and that never changed no matter how far you strayed. You nearly laughed at how blind you’d been. But you did your time, and ran back home. To him. Rafe. The arms tightly wrapped around you confirmed what you already knew––you should have never left. 
So you let him lift you up, wrap your legs around his torso, and carry you to his bed. You both know a conversation is well overdue, but at this moment, nothing else matters. You have each other, and everything’s going to be alright. 
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soapcloth · 1 day ago
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CW: ghost/referenced ghoap x reader, slight angst, possessive behaviour - dividers -> @/cafekitsune
Being the one to pick up Soap’s wardrobe from a secondhand store— the donation so fresh that the scent hadn’t even had the chance to fade and mingle with the rest of the shop. You’re wearing a dead man’s hoodie and you haven’t got the faintest clue.
You like his overbearingly rugged smell; find yourself lifting up the collar to inhale and wonder what the person who donated it is like. The hoodie is emblazoned with a name— maybe he’ll see you on the street one day in his old clothes and use it as an ice breaker. The thought is nice. You don’t even know.
Soap was a man who liked personlized items; a taste for things that were one of a kind— just like him. Everything he touched had been marked by a man living a full life and was wholly unmistakable to the discerning eye of the shadow who knew him inside out.
So why was ghost, absolutely swamped in grief, forced to see an interloper wearing his boy’s clothes? He just wanted a fucking coffee.
Johnny’s official family funeral had been no more than a month ago and there was already a stranger wearing his stuff. If ghost had the privilege to grab that box of Johnny’s items and run, it would be neatly tucked away in his closet, silently cherished. Not hanging off the frame of some random civilian who could never even begin to fathom the depths of a man like John MacTavish.
It must’ve been the world playing a sick joke on him that you, who didn’t even know the man, would be able to collect Johnny’s stuff before him. Never allowed anything.
Suffice to say, he’s pissed when he spots you. Stands a bit too close to you so Johnny’s scent can catch in his nose. You’re clearly nervous, but manage to smile hopefully when he makes an offhanded comment about liking the garment. You probably think they’re his clothes, don’t you?
Well, for all intents and purposes, they are.
You ask if he’s ‘MacTavish’ and something in him wants to scream at you that the world hated him far too much for that to ever happen— instead he just nods, leering at how happy that makes you. He can’t tell if your response lights up his brain because he wants to bite your head clean off— or because somewhere, deep inside him, seeing someone so excited about ‘finding’ Johnny is nice.
He hatches a plan. Knead away at your apprehension towards his intimidating appearance, bag a quick fuck— god knows he needs one, grab the clothes, and disappear from your life with Johnny’s items finally where they belong. It’s perfect.
Well, it’s perfect until an unavoidable, nagging voice starts to rattle around in the back of his skull that Johnny would have been absolutely smitten with you. You might have been one last parting gift sent from his boy, how could he ever turn that down? The thought of fucking you in Johnny’s clothes, being able to nudge his crooked nose into the fabric and chase the scent that’s starting to entangle with your own— it sends him reeling
Johnny would be so pleased if the scent of their sweet lamb caught. Can vividly picture him absolutely beaming while huffing at the clothes before urging ghost to take a sniff for himself.
He latches onto the notion that maybe, just maybe he could tuck you and the clothes away somewhere safe for his eyes only— teeth already sunken deeper into you than he could ever possibly imagine by the point he finally acknowledges the gnawing revelation.
Johnny would want this for the both of you. This time he’d keep you safe.
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tojisun · 2 days ago
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biting the inside of my cheek thinking about cat dad price and how soft he is and how endearing they both would be and how much he loves spoiling her and just.
thinking about being jostled awake from your sleep when you feel him press his lips on your forehead before he pulls back, and you turn to your side, blinking the haze away to watch him get up, scratching at his side, before trudging to the door and opening it. then he just lets this deep rumbling of a coo and bends down to pick up your ragdoll.
“good morning, little miss,” he whispers and she chirps at him, mewing, and buts her head to his chin, and john visibly melts.
thinking about how your little darling is so tacticle with you but is absolutely clingy with john – letting out series of meows and chirps, winding her short body between his legs, and waiting so patiently for him to pick her up to drop her to his lap. and john reclines on the couch because he knows she’ll climb up his chest to play with his beard, and she does it so much that it’s been their routine now.
(thinking about how you would have never met john if it wasn’t for your darling cat, anyway. how she brought him to you, or you to him, and how her contentment in his arms was easily a reflection of your own love for him.)
thinking about how your princess is found napping in the bottom drawers, where his jumpers are stowed, every time john has to return to the base now that his vacation’s over. and you send pictures to him, telling him, “looks like i’m not the only one who misses you,” and god, john misses his girls too :(
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bestalbertcamuslover · 3 days ago
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Her Ex Got Engaged
↳ Masterlist
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︶⊹︶︶୨୧︶︶⊹︶︶⊹︶︶୨୧︶︶⊹︶︶⊹︶︶
✯ pairing: Max Verstappen x GF! Reader ✯
✯ content warnings: None✯
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Almost two years had passed since the end of the longest relationship she had ever had. Six years that had introduced her to romantic love—and to romantic deception. She could still picture the subtle yet undeniable shift in his expression as she spoke animatedly about the future she envisioned for them. It wasn’t until much later that she realized that moment had been a warning, a quiet revelation that he did not see her in his.
She soon learned what a breakup truly felt like—the endless crying, the ache in her chest, the unbearable helplessness. Absolute hell.
Looking back, though, she couldn't help but feel grateful for the conversation that ended it all. Painful as it had been, it had given her the clarity she needed. It had hurt—stung far too much—to realize he had known for some time that she was not the one but hadn’t ended things sooner. She had spent too long wondering why. But perhaps, if he had, she wouldn’t be where she was now—with someone who loved her the way she deserved. And for that, she was grateful.
It was late morning, and as Max played with the cats beside her, she scrolled through Instagram stories to see what her friends and other people were up to. Clubbing, dinners, traveling, running—the usual things people posted. She would glance at each for just a second before swiping to the next. But then she stopped, her finger frozen on the screen as she stared, at one point almost vacantly, before tapping on the shared post.
Engaged. She stared blankly at the caption, the single word mocking her. After what—a year? He was already engaged to someone else? How? Max barely glanced at her phone at first, still focused on scratching behind the cat’s ears. But when he noticed the way she had suddenly stilled, eyes fixed on the screen, he leaned in slightly.
“Who’s that?” he asked, peering over her shoulder. “One of your friends?”
She blinked, hesitating a second too long. “Uh—”
Max smirked, nudging her playfully. “Tell me it’s not another wedding. I’m running out of excuses not to go.”
That earned a small, breathy laugh from her, but it wasn’t quite right—too forced. She locked her phone and placed it face-down beside her. “No wedding,” she said lightly. “Don’t worry.”
Max tilted his head. “Then why do you look like you’ve just seen a ghost?”
“I don’t,” she said quickly. “It’s nothing.”
His smirk faded slightly as he studied her face. “It’s someone, though.”
She sighed, knowing there was no way out of this. “My ex,” she admitted. “He got engaged.”
Max’s expression didn’t change immediately. He just stared at her, then let out a quiet huh.
For a second, she thought maybe he wasn’t going to make a big deal out of it. But then, with that signature bluntness of his, he asked,
“So why do you care?”
She turned her head sharply. “I don’t.”
Max gave her a look, eyes flicking to her phone. “You do.”
His eyes met hers again, piercing through her, almost imploring an answer. Why did she care? It had been two years. She was happy—with herself, with him, with her life in general. And yet, it felt like a hard punch to the stomach.
“I don’t know,” she sighed.
Max’s jaw tensed slightly, his fingers drumming against his knee as he studied her. He wasn’t the type to jump to conclusions, but something about this—about her reaction—itched at him in a way he didn’t like.
“You don’t know?” he echoed, his voice quieter now, but there was an edge to it.
She ran a hand through her hair. “I mean, it’s offensive,” she said, trying to explain. “That he just—engaged so fast.”
Max’s brow furrowed. “And that bothers you because…?”
She sighed. “Because it makes me wonder how long he knew I wasn’t the one.”
Max was quiet for a moment, his lips pressing into a thin line. Then, in a tone sharper than before, he asked,
“And do you still care?”
Her head snapped up. “What?”
“About him,” Max clarified, his expression unreadable. “Because you look like someone just punched you, and I don’t know why else you’d be this upset if you were actually over it.”
She blinked, taken aback by the sudden shift in his demeanor.
“Max, no—”
“Because if you’re not happy with me, you should tell me,” he continued, his voice still controlled. “If you still want him—”
“I don’t,” she cut him off, shaking her head firmly. “I swear, I don’t.”
He exhaled, looking away for a second, his fingers tightening into a fist before relaxing. “Then why?” His voice was quieter now, but no less intense. “Why does it feel like you’re still stuck in it?”
She opened her mouth, but the words didn’t come right away. It wasn’t about her ex, not really. It was about time, about the fact that she had spent years loving someone who hadn’t loved her back the same way. It was about realizing that she had been so blind to it.
But looking at Max now—his guarded expression, the slight clench of his jaw, the way his fingers twitched like he wasn’t sure whether to reach for her or pull away—she realized that he didn’t see it that way.
Her chest tightened.
She reached for his hand, curling her fingers around his. “Max, I’m happy, the happiest I’ve ever been,” she said, her voice softer now. “With you. I swear, I don’t want him back. I just—it caught me off guard. That’s all.”
His shoulders didn’t relax immediately, his thumb ghosting over her knuckles as he studied her face, searching for something.
“Are you sure?” he asked, and for all his bluntness, there was something vulnerable about the way he said it.
She squeezed his hand. “I’m sure.”
Max exhaled through his nose, shaking his head slightly like he was mad at himself for even thinking otherwise. Then, finally, he tugged her closer, his hand slipping to the nape of her neck as he rested his forehead against hers.
“I don’t like seeing you like that,” he admitted, his voice quieter now. “And I really don’t like the thought of you still caring about him.”
She smiled, brushing her nose against his. “I don’t.”
His lips barely curved, but the tension in his body faded just slightly.
“Good,” he murmured before kissing her, slow and deliberate, like he was grounding himself in her. Like he was making sure she was here. With him.
Max pulled back just enough to look at her, his hand still cradling the nape of her neck. His expression had softened—still serious, but there was a hint of something else now. Something almost teasing.
“So,” he murmured, thumb brushing absently over her skin. “If you’re so bothered by him getting engaged, you wanna just… get engaged too?”
She blinked. “What?”
Max shrugged, a smirk tugging at his lips. “Yeah, why not? Even the score.”
She scoffed, shoving his shoulder. “Oh, now you want to propose, just to be petty?”
He chuckled, but there was a glint in his eyes, something more thoughtful than his usual teasing. “Maybe. I think we’d look better in engagement photos, anyway.”
She rolled her eyes while smiling. 
Max smirked and leaned in again, pressing a lingering kiss to the corner of her mouth before murmuring against her skin, “One day, though.”
Her breath hitched slightly.
He pulled back just enough to meet her gaze, his usual cocky demeanor softened by something undeniably genuine. “Not just to ‘even the score’ or whatever,” he added, his voice quieter now. “But because I want to.”
She swallowed, her heart skipping a beat at the certainty in his tone.
“One day,” she echoed, her lips curving slightly.
Max’s grin widened. “Good, and it will be a much fancier ring than that, okay?.”
She laughed, shaking her head as he pulled her into him again. “Okay.”
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✯ authors note: English is not my first language and I hope you liked it <3
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no-144444 · 1 day ago
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the trouble with racing- o.piastri
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summary: a the first race of the season, oscar figures something out that could change his life forever.
pairing: oscar piastri x ex! single mom! fem! reader
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You had always loved going to races, especially to see Oscar win. Home races were a big deal, and against your better judgement, you allowed Max to drag you along. You hadn’t seen him in years, not since he left F2 and left you behind. No text, no calls, just a note saying he couldn't do it anymore. Couldn’t love you anymore. Max was your brother in law, he’d married your sister years ago, and you two had bonded over your shared love of racing, but he’d never understood why you wouldn’t go to a GP. He also didn’t get why you wouldn’t let your daughter anywhere near the sport, when she already loved it so much, but to each their own. 
“Come on P,” you smiled, holding her hand and pulling her away from the gates of the paddock. All you had to do was get through the weekend. Just babysit Poppy and take care of Mia, and you’d be fine, right?
“Can we visit uncle Lando?” she asked and you grimaced. 
“We’ll see, first we should put all our stuff in Redbull, yeah?” you smiled at her and she nodded, running on to catch up with Max as he walked through the paddock. Your sister, busy pregnant with her second child, had decided to stay home and not fly, thereby giving Max a reason to beg you to help him out and take care of P. You had reluctantly agreed, and that’s how you ended up in the McLaren Motorhome, chatting to Lando. You’d met him a few times before, just in passing with Max, or at P’s birthday parties. He was sweet. 
“And how’s my favourite girl doing?” he asked, taking Mia out of your arms. 
You chuckled, watching the exchange. 
“Hi,” her meek little voice made Lando smile and laugh. 
“Hi Mia,” he waved. “Do you want to have a look at my car?
She nodded. 
“Do you want to sit in my car?” 
She nodded vigorously. 
“You don’t have to-” you started but he cut you off. 
“It’s fine, mechanics are done with it anyways. Onward we go!” he giggled, and you followed behind the two with P beside you. 
“I want to talk to Oscar!” P smiled. 
“He’s in the garage, you can go say hi,” Lando informed her and she ran ahead, straight for the garage. 
You felt your anxiety spike. He wouldn’t say anything, surely? He had nothing to say when he left. He should have nothing to say now. 
Lando and Mia got on like two peas in a pod, and you took all the photos while he talked to her about the different parts of the steering wheel and how it all worked. 
“Y/n?” Nicole’s voice brought you out of your bubble, and you felt yourself stiffen. “Is that you?” 
You turned around to see her shocked face, Hattie, Eddie, Mae, and Tim all standing behind her, the same surprised look. 
“Hi,” you smiled awkwardly. “How are you guys?”
“We’re good,” Nicole nodded, still trying to wrap her head around the fact that you were here. “H-How are you?”
“I’m good, thank you,” you nodded. 
“W-What are you doing here?” she asked. 
“Max Verstappen is my brother in law,” you explained. “He needed help with P-”
Just then, Poppy came bounding in, Oscar hot on her tail and wrapped her arms around your midriff.  “Auntie Y/n, am I allowed to root for two teams?” 
You smiled down at her, playing with her hair as she leant against you. “Of course, once one of them is Max.”
She looked at you, unamused. “Of course it is silly!” 
You chuckled. 
“Mom!” Mia giggled. “Look, I’m a racer!”
You turned back to Lando and Mia and saw her with her hands on the steering wheel, Lando dying of laughter as he took photos. You chuckled. “Well done baby.”
You turned back to see a horrified look on Oscar’s face, and the rest of his family looking at you surprised. “Well, it was nice to see you, but I’d better get back to Redbull,” you smiled before turning back to Lando. “Thank you Lan, she loves this stuff.”
He nodded, taking her out of the car and handing her to you. “See you later,” he called as you three left. 
Fuck. 
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The Piastri’s were stunned into a sort of shocked silence. Nicole was looking at her son, a million thoughts running through her head. 
“Lando,” Oscar spoke up. “Who’s kid is that?”
“Mia?” he asked, his face hardened. “Y/n’s.”
“How old is she?” Nicole rushed out. “Is Y/n married? Does Mia have a dad-?”
“Mia’s four,” he answered, calm and calculated. “Y/n’s been single since she found out, and Mia does have a dad; Oscar.” 
And Oscar’s world crumbled. He thought he was doing the best thing for you, getting you out of his insane life before it all got too crazy for you. He thought he was fixing things by leaving you behind. But all this time, he could’ve been a dad. He could’ve been there for you, while you were pregnant, while you were exhausted with a newborn, while you were alone. There hadn’t been a day that had gone by where he didn’t think about you, and wished you were still there with him, but it was his choice, and he made it. He started at the floor, trying to process it all. That kid was half him, half you. Mia. That was the name you’d both decided on if you ever got pregnant and it was a girl. You still had him in mind when you were naming her. 
“Oscar,” Lando’s voice was low. “Y/n has spend four fucking years without you, because that’s what you wanted. You wanted her to leave, so she left. She’s happy, after being very unhappy for a really long time. Do not fuck this up for her. Yes, you have a right to your child, but just think about the fact that she’s been doing fine without you for four years.”
“I-I… Can I talk to her?” he asked no one in particular. “I never knew.” 
“You blocked her on everything, how was she supposed to tell you?” Lando scolded. 
“Quali starts in 15 minutes,” Nicole interjected. “I’ll go speak to her.” 
“No,” Oscar sighed. “I’ll talk to her after. Let me sort this out, alright?” 
She nodded.
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Pole position didn’t taste as good as he wanted it to, especially when it also meant he had about 2 extra hours of interviews. He just wanted to see you. He just wanted to talk to you. He wanted to see Mia. 
He rushed to the RedBull garage, searching high and low for you until he ran into Max. 
“Hey mate,” Max smiled. “Alright?”
“Where’s Y/n?” he asked, frantic. 
“My sister in law?” he questioned and Oscar nodded. “She went back to the hotel.” 
“Which hotel?” 
“I’ll drive with you, come on,” Max offered and Oscar took it. “Why do you need her?” 
“I just… we have to talk about some things,” Oscar explained as they sat in the back of a car, driving towards the hotel. “We went to school together.”
“No way!” Max chuckled, not getting the fact that Oscar was seriously stressed and nervous. “That’s so fun, she dated a guy called Oscar for like five years and they met in high school,” Max’s head suddenly swivelled to meet Oscar’s eyes. “That wasn’t you, was it?”
“No,” Oscar lied. “No, we were just friends.” 
“Good, whoever that Oscar is, is the one that left her high and dry when she got pregnant,” he scoffed. “Dickhead.”
That didn’t exactly help the pit of guilt in Oscar’s stomach, but he nodded along anyway. 
The rest of the car journey was easy, both of them just chatting about the race tomorrow. When they got to the hotel, Max told him your room number, and Oscar was shooting off towards it. He stood in the elevator, it was a surreal feeling to find out that you had a kid, and he was also about to see the love of his life for the second time in four years. 
He knocked on the door, and herald giggles from Mia, and his heart swelled. You opened the door a crack and smiled in his general direction, but then you realised it was him, grabbed a keycard and came out, closing the door behind you. 
“What are you doing here?” you asked. 
“I wanted to talk to you,” he admitted. “I never knew-”
“I know and I’m sorry- I didn’t want to just… spring it on you like this but I knew you’d have to find out eventually- only Lando knows you’re her dad, and I wanted to tell you, I-I just… It never felt like the right time-”
“I’m her dad?” he questioned, his eyes filling with tears. You nodded, crossing your arms. “All this time and I could've been a dad?”
“I wanted to tell you, I swear, I just didn’t want you to think I was trying to baby trap you or anything, so I let it be and I just got more and more anxious about it, so I just stopped coming to GPs. I know this is a lot and I’m sorry-” you felt yourself tearing up. You knew Oscar wanted to be dad more than anything at all, but you were terrified. He’d broken up with you using a note. 
He wrapped his arms around you, shaking his head. “I’m sorry. I don’t know why you’re apologising. I’m the asshole. I should’ve been here, and I’m so sorry I wasn’t. I love you-”
“Osc-”
“No, I do. I only broke up with you because Zak told me ‘no distractions or realtionships’ and even then I couldn’t break up with you in person, I had to do it with a fucking note. I’ve loved you since we met in school, and I’m sorry that I let you go through this alone. If you’ll let me, I want to be in her life, and maybe yours too.”
Your features eased gently, but he knew what it meant. He knew you like the back of his hand, still. “I’m not sure about my life, but you do have a daughter who definitely would love a dad like you.”
“An F1 driver?” he questioned.
“No,” you chuckled. “A good person, come on,” you ushered him in, revealing Mia on the bed in her pyjamas, freshly bathed as she read a book. “Mia,” you spoke gently. “There’s someone I’d like you to meet-”
“Oscar Piastri!” she cheered. “Pole position!”
He chuckled and looked at you quizzically, as you smiled. 
“She got the racing bug from you,” you smiled at her, your voice low so she couldn’t hear. He beamed with pride. 
“Is she into karting?” he asked and you rolled your eyes. 
“Only three days a week,” you sighed. “She loves it, as much as you did.”
He nodded. “Hi Mia, what book have you got there?” 
“The ABC’s of racing,” she explained. 
“Do you mind if I read it to you tonight instead of your mom?” he offered and she nodded, beaming with excitement. 
He looked at you with a hopeful smile and you nodded, giving him the go-ahead. As you watched him sit beside her in bed, reading to her until she fell asleep against him, as much as your heart was full, you couldn’t escape that unmistakable dread that bubbled in your stomach. Oscar could leave again, you'd just be heartbroken. You had to be smart about this, not let him near you, just let him be a dad to Mia. 
You could do that, right?
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mclaren masterlist
navigation for my blog :)
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un-fwuit-un-fwog · 2 days ago
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The Prefect Was Here
Synopsis: The VDC boys notice the ways in which The Prefect has left their mark.
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Something Ace notices during his time staying in Ramshackle is the various out of place chairs and boxes in different rooms of the dorm. He first realized they were there because he would trip over them or stub his toe on their corners. He'd move the objects out of the way to prevent himself from injuring himself on them again, but the next day they'd be back in their spots. This little cycle of him stumbling over the objects, moving them, and then stumbling over them again the next day repeated for a while until one late evening when the pieces clicked. Ace was leaving his room to get a glass of water from the kitchen when he looked over the railing of the stairs to see you stood atop one of the particularly annoying chairs placed in the lounge. A chair he trips over almost every morning in his half-awake state placed right next to the fireplace. Watching you organize various photo albums on a shelf above the mantle, he finally understood. He stopped moving the objects that no longer seemed out of place after that. They were right where they belonged: next to tall shelves, high up windows, and the occasional rickety door you had to open by shimmying it open from the top.
You often lent Deuce your notes to copy for those class periods he just couldn't keep his eyes open: exhausted from a long night of studying. At first he didn't notice anything, too busy frantically taking notes. It wasn't until he was staying in Ramshackle and he no longer had to worry about getting your notebook to you before day's end when you'd head off to your dorm and he to his that he saw it. As he was studying your notes he saw a little doodle on the edge of the page. The doodle was of Grim stirring a cauldron while standing on a stool, his goggles falling off his head. As he continued through your notes he saw ones of Epel carving an apple, Rook shooting a bow, and Vil looking studying rehearsal footage. Flipping back through the book and starting from the beginning he noticed the doodles seemed to be telling the story of your time at NRC. Early in the book, before there were notes on classes, there were doodles of the dark mirror, Crowley, and Grim. About the time you were officially enrolled there were drawings of the great 7, Ace with a smug look on his face, and even Deuce summoning a cauldron. He's asking to borrow your notes again? You could have sworn he was awake all class period (he just wants to see any new doodles).
Kalim noticed the walls, or more specifically: what was on them. It wasn't the boarded-up holes that drew his attention, nor was it the dust that you never could seem to get rid of completely. What got Kalim's attention were the drawings. In the kitchen, in your room, and on various doors there were drawings taped to the wood. Some were colorful while other were monochrome. Big, small, detailed, simple; he loved all of them! In your room you had an entire wall covered in pieces of your art, many of said pieces being of your friends and your various adventures. Your door was basically an extension of that wall just with a prominent sign in the middle reading 'Prefect and Grim.' Grim's name seemed to be written in his own handwriting (pawwriting?) and at the bottom of the sign laid a pawprint and a handprint. The other doors that had signs were rooms like the bathroom, laundry room, and the rooms each of the boys stayed in. The first few signs were put there by yourself to help the guys more easily navigate the sometimes-confusing building while the ones on each of their doors was to make them feel like they too belonged there. The kitchen had various drawings or little doodles your friends made for you. No matter how simple or detailed the drawing, you had every single thing anyone had drawn for your here displayed on the wall. All but Grim's art. He had his own pedestal (the fridge) for that. Kalim made sure to make his fair share of contributions to your display wall.
Jamil was in charge of the kitchen during the VDC and found some things rather unusual from the moment he stepped foot in there. Nearly all of your upper shelves were completely empty and when he pulled out a drawer he assumed would be a utensil drawer all he found was towels. That would be fine on its own, but none of the drawers had utensils. The upper cabinets that did have things in them held cleaning supplies, items that are commonly agreed to go below the sink. Just when he thought he was going to have to go back to Scarabia to get any kitchenware, he checked the lower cabinets. That's where he found pots, pans, cups, plates, and any other kitchen item you'd need all organized nicely as if they weren't in the most bizarre of places. Just as he was about to resign to silently judging you for your dishware placement, Grim came up beside him and opened one of the lower cabinets to grab a cup before scampering over to a step ladder placed next to the counter so he could reach the faucet and fill his cup with water. After seeing that he supposed your placement of things made sense. And after much time cooking in your kitchen as well as having to bend down to grab items he also realized that you must be even kinder than he originally thought (or just plain stupid, but he's keeping that thought to himself).
Vil is a man of beauty. He believes in not only you as a person looking your best at all times but also making sure your surrounding look their best. He understood most of Ramshackle's 'quirks' were unfixable as things were, and you did seem to keep the place remarkably clean all things considered, but there was something that caught his scrutinous eye. Clothes hung up to dry in the laundry room and bathroom (it was too cold to dry them outside) splattered in paint and a door that had matching patterns. At one point he grew curious as to what could possibly possess a person to leave a door in such a state and decided to open it. He almost fainted when he saw inside. The walls, ceiling, floor, and any furniture unlucky enough to be in the room was covered in layers of paint. The only thing that seemed to be kept clean was the window with a view of the forest beside the dorm. He left that day deciding that how you kept that room didn't affect him. As long as your mess didn't encroach into his space he would leave you to your mayhem. However, something odd began to happen. On a day Vil felt especially stressed, he went to do his laundry. When he closed the washer door and turned it on he looked up to see a row of paint splattered clothes hung up to dry, and before he knew it he was opening the door to what he assumed to be your art studio. He closed the door gently behind him and simply stood there in the room as the evening sun cast warm rays of light in through the window. It was as he stood there that he realized just how comforting the room's atmosphere was. It was hectic with all the paint everywhere and yet calming and homely at the same time. Now whenever he got too stressed during the VDC he went to that room to simply take a moment to breathe and forget about the stresses of being perfect. To look around at the remnants of pieces you put your heart and soul in splattered across the walls: telling a story only you know but that anyone who takes the time to observe can feel. Now, he may even see your paint splattered clothes and face to be rather endearing (not that he'll admit it).
Ever the hunter of Beauty, Rook notices a lot of ways in which you leave your mark on this world. The stickers on the covers of your notebooks, the patched sewn a bit sloppily onto your clothes, and even the spots on your front doorstep that have been ever so slightly worn down from scraping off mud and/or snow every time you come inside are all glorious examples of how you make the world more beautiful by being here. However, he does have a favorite. Out of every way you show that you've been here in this world, that you existed, his favorite by far is yours and Grim's height charts lightly scratched into the wall in a corner of the kitchen in a nook between the fridge and the wall. You wouldn't see it unless you really looked, but as we all know, he looks. Seemingly etched into the wall with a fork, butterknife, or something of the sort as not to be erased or easily covered up by paint are two separate sets of dashes. One is low to the floor while the other is about where the top of your head would be were you to stand with your back to the wall. Each chart has initials below the lowest mark and each dash has a date next to it. However, what really gets Rook's heart soaring is the initials and how after the letter of each of your first names there is an R. Now, Rook knows Grim doesn't have a last name and that you haven't uttered a word about what yours is (whether it be because you forgot or just simply don't want to tell people). Overwhelmed with curiosity he hunts down the ghosts to ask them the meaning of the R to which they tell him it stands for Ramshackle. You and Grim saw each other as family and so you decided to unofficially create a last name to share. When you were unable to agree on a good one you suggested Ramshackle so as to always remember your roots in this world. Rook won't encroach on the memory by asking to put a height chart of his own next to the two of yours, but you do notice that suddenly any official paperwork you or Grim gets has 'Ramshackle' after your first names.
What Epel notices are the big tape Xs in various places within the dorm. On the stairs, on the a spot in the hallway on the 2nd floor, there're even parts of the banister wrapped in blue tape. At some point he gets curious and prods at the banister only for it to sway and nearly fall off. This catches his attention so he goes through the dorm looking for places with tape on them to see if his hypothesis was correct, and, wouldn't ya know it, it was. All the places with tape are areas that could be considered hazardous for one reason or another. At first he wonders if you were just really dumb and put tape there to try and fix it, but when he sees you avoiding the areas too he decided that's not it. Then the idea comes up that perhaps they're there for an inspector that's going to come to fix up ramshackle, but it becomes apparent that's not the case when you come back one evening: exhausted from trying to convince Crowley to do something about the water damage in the attic only to be shut down. It isn't until he sees you yank Kalim back by the collar of his shirt as he was about to step on one of the Xs that he realizes you put them there to keep people safe. Epel tried pulling up a piece of tape at one pint in his inspection to get a better idea of what was underneath it and for the life of him he couldn't get it unstuck. At least he know for sure that it will stay there for generations to come acting as a kind reminder to anyone else who ventures into the dorm to avoid those areas and keep themselves safe.
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TWST Masterlist
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all-purpose-dish-soap · 2 days ago
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68 / 270 words
Poker night. But the boys know how to keep things interesting. So this time, in the middle of the table, chips are stacked high around the grand prize--you. Pretty thing, dolled up in lingerie and sitting on your knees. Even once the cards are dealt, their eyes wander. So much for poker face.
Soap whistles, looking you up and down. "Hell's bells. Might not be throwin' the game this time."
You huff and shift your legs. But you refuse to curl up into yourself. You still have your pride.
It almost vanishes outright, though, when Price’s gaze rakes over you as he takes a drink of his liquor. "That’s a pretty sight," he says. He knows it’ll make you squirm.
Gaz grins as he checks his cards, his gaze flicking over to you. "We've got a grand prize worthy of winning, then?"
You glance back at Gaz. Your boyfriend. When he told you he'd be partial to sharing, you didn't think he meant something quite so ceremonious as this. He looks amused, even fond, as if your squirming is his favorite part. There’s no trace of pity on his face as the others look their fill. If anything, he'd prefer you to be wearing less. He always liked showing off his things.
Heat rises in your throat, and you flush at his pride in you. "Good luck," you tell him.
He smirks, loving the flush that rises to your cheeks. Then he slides a polished, onyx-black poker chip into the center of the table--the chip that represents you.
"There's your incentive, boys," Price says.
Ghost chuckles. "Place your bets."
...
see also: if the military wanted you to have a wife, they'd issue you one; TF141’s favorite sexy clothes on you
...
more Soap / more Price / more Gaz / more Ghost / more multi-141 and poly 141 / masterlist
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ghouljams · 1 day ago
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Taking the chance on masturbating when roommate!Soap gets back from deployment, trying to hold you moans in so he doesn't know, even hiding your legs under a blanket on your bed as you press you vibrator against your cunt. Scrolling through your favorite porn site and wiggling your hips against the head of the wand, trying to find the angle that makes you feel like you'll explode. It's not a difficult task, but once you hit it, the vibrator pulsing against your clit in a way that's always stunningly (wonderfully) electric, you can't hold your moans in. They catch and hold your breath in your chest, your teeth digging into your lip to try and breathe through your nose anything to keep from making a sound.
But it's inevitable, your lips part and your shuddering breaths bring moans with every exhale, and your moans bring your pervert roommate. Who doesn't even bother knocking before he tries the door and tumbles into your room like he's missing his favorite movie.
"Johnny!" You yelp, the intrusion bursting embarrassment over your hot skin. You pull the vibrator tighter against yourself and clamp your legs together as if you could hide from him. Your muscles go tense as your cunt pulses and flutters around nothing.
"Aw," he clicks his tongue, "dinnae mean tae scare ya hen, heard a noise and thought you needed mah help." You might have bought that excuse three months ago but not now, and you must show it on your face because his carefree smile smolders into something mirthful. "You hurt yourself love? Want me tae kiss it better?"
Your cheeks burst with heat and you throw your vibrator at his stupid mohawked head. "Get out Johnny!" You yell, his laughter ringing through the apartment as he scurries away.
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surielstea · 3 days ago
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Spelling it Out
Based on a request.
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Pairing: Cassian x Fem!Reader
Summary: Reader is a bit oblivious to Cassian’s flirtations, so Cassian has to go the extra mile to prove he truly wants her.
Warnings: Cassian probably makes some suggestive jokes somewhere in here, but it’s all fluff! :)
4.6k words.
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"I brought coffee," I announce as I step into the studio's warm embrace, the door swinging shut behind me to keep the morning chill at bay. I balance the two cups in one hand, the other cradling the new set of paints Feyre had asked me to pick up this morning.
"Back here!" Feyre's voice carries from the storage room, muffled slightly by the rustling of cardboard.
I follow the sound, stepping into the small back area where she's surrounded by half-unpacked boxes. She exhales in relief as she rushes up to me, taking her coffee with eager hands.
"You're a lifesaver," she groans, lifting the steaming cup to her lips. "Thank you."
I set the paints down, glancing at the boxes. "I thought the shipments were too heavy to unload?"
Feyre hums around her coffee, eyes twinkling. "Oh, I had help—"
Before she can finish, a figure stalks through the doorway, his presence effortlessly filling the space. A box—one that Feyre and I together had struggled to move—rests in his arms like it weighs nothing.
"This should be the last one," the male says, setting it down with casual ease.
His voice is deep, rough-edged in a way that demands attention. I take in the broad cut of his shoulders, the way his wings shift behind him, arching slightly as he straightens. And then I see his face—hazel eyes rich as molten gold, a scar cutting through his dark brow, and a mouth curled into an easy, knowing smile. He's ruggedly handsome, but not in that delicate, ethereal way most High Fae are. No, he's something else entirely—something solid, real.
"Help from Cassian," Feyre finishes, amusement lacing her tone.
The name stiles me immediately, and I was a fool for not immediately putting it together the second I saw him. Cassian. Lord of Bloodshed.
He turns his gaze to me, openly assessing, and I take the opportunity to do the same. There's something about the way he looks at me, like he's mapping every detail—filing it away for later.
"I didn't know we'd have company," I say, forcing my focus back to the present. "I would've brought another coffee."
Cassian huffs a soft laugh. "Oh, no need. I've been up for hours." His voice carries the same warmth as his grin, rough yet inviting. "But that's a kind gesture."
I nod, offering a small smile in return.
"I don't believe you two have officially met," Feyre chimes in, shifting her attention between us. "Cass, this is my very talented friend. She keeps this place running."
"She gives me too much credit," I say, shaking my head.
Cassian, however, tilts his head, his expression unreadable. "I doubt that." The certainty in his tone knocks something loose in my chest.
"This is Cassian," Feyre continues, grinning. "Rhys' brother and the best guy to call for lifting heavy things."
Cassian makes a sound of protest. "Don't forget hilarious, intelligent, devastatingly handsome—I mean, the list goes on."
I huff a quiet laugh as he extends his hand.
"Well, it's nice to meet you, Cassian." I smile as I take his hand.
His fingers close around mine, warm and calloused, his grip firm but not overwhelming.
"Likewise, sweetheart." His smirk deepens, and before I can pull away, his thumb brushes ever so slightly over the back of my hand—a touch so fleeting, so deliberate, that I almost convince myself I imagined it. Then he winks, a quick, knowing thing, before finally releasing me.
I swallow, ignoring the odd flutter in my stomach. I've heard the stories from Feyre, how when she originally arrived in the night court she may as well have ended up with Cassian with his relentless flirting. He's joking, I remind myself. That's just how he is.
Cassian dusts his hands off on his leathers before flashing me an easy grin. "You must be the one keeping Feyre sane around here."
I huff a quiet laugh, setting down the paints. "I do my best. But she keeps me busy."
"She does that," he muses, glancing at Feyre. "Though I didn't realize she had such a beautiful assistant."
I blink at him, caught off guard. "Oh—I'm not really her assistant. More like a glorified errand runner."
Feyre scoffs. "That is not true."
Cassian's gaze flicks back to me, assessing. "You're an artist too, then?"
I nod while shucking off my winter coat and hanging it on the back of a chair. "That's the idea."
His grin widens. "Now I'm definitely going to start hanging around more. I could use a few painting tips."
Feyre snorts. "You paint?"
"Not yet," he says, unbothered. "But I'm a fast learner. And I've always appreciated a good work of art."
Something about the way he says it, about the way his hazel eyes flick over me like he's taking his time, makes my stomach flutter.
But before I can respond, he flashes me a smirk, turning back to Feyre. "Anyway, mission accomplished. Boxes are in, and I fully expect my reward."
"Which is?" Feyre asks dryly.
Cassian smirks. "Your eternal gratitude. And maybe a good bottle of whiskey, if Rhys is feeling generous."
Feyre rolls her eyes, but I can't help my smile.
"How about next time we need your help, you'll be the first one we call?" I suggest, noticing Feyre's playful disinterest in rewarding him for being a good friend.
Cassian grins like I've just made his day. "Oh, sweetheart. You can call me anytime."
His voice drops just enough to send an odd warmth curling through my stomach. But before I can overthink it, he turns toward the door.
Cassian turns slightly, glancing at me and Feyre. "I'll be seeing you around, hopefully." He directs at me. "See you for dinner, Feyre."
And just like that, he's gone, leaving only the scent of wind and cracking embers in his wake.
I shake my head, amused, as I turn back to Feyre—only to find her already watching me over the rim of her coffee cup.
"What?"
She only smirks, taking a slow sip. "Nothing."
I frown but brush it off, reaching for the new paints.
Cassian was just being friendly. That's all.
Right?
From that moment on, Cassian made every excuse to come to the studio. Half the time, he didn't even bother with a valid reason—just threw out a casual "I was in town" when, in reality, he always was. Velaris wasn't nearly as big as he made it out to be.
The bell above the door rang, and I didn't need to look up to know whose footsteps were approaching behind me.
"Is that supposed to be a bird?" Cassian mused, leaning over my shoulder.
I scoffed, shoving his face away. "It's a dog, and you know it."
He chuckled, easily dodging my half-hearted push and settling right back beside me. "Mmm. If you say so." His wings rustled as he peered at my work again, this time with something softer in his expression. "It's amazing, sweetheart. You're so damn talented."
The sincerity in his voice made my stomach flutter. I tilted my head back to look up at him, caught off guard by the rare note of awe in his tone.
That awe melted into something else—something warm and teasing—as he placed both hands on my shoulders and started kneading gently.
I nearly groaned on the spot. "Gods, you're perfect at that." I exhaled, practically melting under his touch.
Cassian hummed, his thumbs working expertly over the knots in my shoulders.
I sighed blissfully, rolling my shoulders into his hands. "You should've been a healer."
He chuckled, his breath fanning against my ear. "I'd rather just take care of you, sweetheart."
I smiled, tilting my head further into his touch, completely missing the way his fingers stilled for a beat before continuing their slow, deliberate strokes.
"You really are tense," he murmured, pressing into the tight muscles just beneath my neck. "Is this what happens when you spend all day hunched over, painting little dogs that look like birds?"
I smacked his arm lightly. "If you're going to insult my work, at least pretend to be subtle about it."
"Who said anything about insulting?" His thumbs dug in a little deeper, his voice dropping just enough to make my skin heat. "I love watching you work. All focused, biting your lip, completely lost in it."
I wrinkled my nose. "That makes me sound like some kind of absent-minded hermit."
Cassian grinned. "A very cute absent-minded hermit."
I rolled my eyes. "Flattery will get you nowhere, Cassian."
"That's funny because I feel like it's getting me everywhere," he mused, his hands still kneading at my shoulders. "You're practically purring."
"I am not purring," I argued, though I made no move to stop him.
"Cassian, stop distracting my employees!" Feyre's voice rang from the back room, laced with exasperation.
Cassian smirked, straightening up from where he'd been massaging my shoulders. "Employee," he corrected with a lazy grin. "And I'm motivating her."
I rolled my eyes, but the warmth of his hands still lingered on my skin, a phantom pressure I refused to dwell on.
He chuckled, stepping back, stretching in that way that made every muscle in his absurdly broad body flex just enough to be noticed. His wings flared slightly, shifting behind him like an afterthought before he shot me another smirk. "I'll let you get back to it, sweetheart." Then, with a slow tilt of his head—"Unless you'd rather take a break and let me keep working these magic hands?"
My breath caught for half a second before I forced myself to scoff. "No," I said, ignoring the small blush creeping up my neck. "But... could I ask you a favor?"
Cassian perked up instantly, arms folding over his chest. "Anything, gorgeous."
I hesitated, suddenly second-guessing myself, but forged ahead. "I need to paint an anatomical feature I've been studying. I have a few reference images, but..." I swallowed, glancing at his wings. "I was hoping I could use you as a live model?"
His brows lifted, hazel eyes gleaming with intrigue. "My wings?"
I nodded. "Your wings are far more magnificent than the sketches in my book."
The moment the words left my mouth, I realized how they sounded—how appreciative they were—and my face went hot.
Cassian, of course, took full advantage. His wings stretched slightly as if preening under the attention. "You just trying to get me shirtless, sweetheart?"
A very unhelpful image flashed in my head—of him, shirtless, all sculpted muscle and golden skin, wings fanned out behind him in the studio's soft light.
"No!" I blurted, before catching myself. "I mean—it's just for the wings."
Cassian barked a laugh, shaking his head. "Only teasing, sweetheart. I'd love to."
I exhaled in relief. "Good. Are you free tomorrow?"
He tilted his head, grinning. "I'm here whenever you want me."
Something about the way he said it made my stomach flip.
I bit my lower lip slightly, nodding. "Thank you."
"I wouldn't thank me so fast," he mused, gaze flicking to me with unmistakable mischief. "You owe me after this."
I narrowed my eyes. "Owe you what?"
Cassian made a show of looking away, tapping his chin as though deep in thought. "Haven't decided yet," he hummed, lips twitching. "But don't worry, sweetheart. I'll think of something."
I huffed, waving him off. "Go bother someone else, Cassian."
He gave a dramatic bow, smirk firmly in place. "As you wish."
And with that, he sauntered off, wings twitching ever so slightly as he disappeared into the back of the studio—leaving Feyre standing there, watching me, amusement dancing in her eyes.
I turned back to my canvas, heat still prickling my skin.
I wasn't nervous.
There was no reason to be nervous.
It was just a painting. Just a model session. Nothing different from the dozens I'd done before.
Except, of course, this time the model was Cassian. And he was currently standing in the doorway of the studio, a lazy, devastatingly handsome grin on his face as he crossed his arms over his chest.
"Told you I'd be here whenever you wanted me."
I cleared my throat, turning away quickly to gather my supplies. "Yes, well, I'd rather not have students knocking over easels trying to get a look at you, so we're setting up in the back."
He let out a low chuckle as he followed me. "What, afraid they'll get distracted?"
I rolled my eyes. "No, but I know you will."
"Fair point."
Once we stepped into the back room—where there were no prying eyes or interruptions—I pointed to the stool in the center of the space. "Sit there, facing away from me."
Cassian obeyed, but not before flashing me a smirk. "Getting bossy already?"
I ignored him, busying myself with setting up my canvas. "You can take off your shirt now."
"Damn, sweetheart—at least buy me dinner first."
I froze mid-motion, whipping my head around. "That's not—I didn't—"
Cassian just laughed, reaching over his shoulder to grab the back of his collar. In one smooth motion, he pulled his shirt over his head and tossed it onto a nearby table.
I regretted looking.
Because Mother above.
Cassian was made of solid muscle—thick, powerful shoulders, his back broad and sculpted as if the Cauldron had taken extra care in crafting every ridge, every dip, every inch of him. His wings, folded neatly against his back, only added to the sheer size of him.
I swallowed hard, thankful beyond belief that he was facing away.
"You good back there?" Cassian teased.
"I'm fine," I said, maybe a little too quickly.
I turned my attention to his wings. The pose needed to be just right—relaxed but natural, something that would emphasize their power without looking stiff or unnatural. I stepped forward, lifting my hands, then hesitated.
"Can I touch?" I asked softly, if there was one thing I learned from studying Illyrian anatomy it's that their wings were sensitive, sacred.
Cassian went still.
For a moment, there was silence. Then—so quiet I almost missed it—his breath hitched.
When he spoke again, his voice was different. Lower. "Yeah, sweetheart. Go ahead.
I exhaled slowly before pressing my fingertips to the strong, leathery membrane of his wing. Warmth radiated from him, the muscle beneath my touch twitching slightly as I carefully adjusted his positioning.
It was... exhilarating, in a way. To be granted access to something so personal.
I stepped back to assess the placement. "Are they too heavy to hold like that?"
Cassian laughed. "That's adorable."
I frowned. "What?"
"Sweetheart, these wings have carried me through battle, through storms, through the Illyrian mountains at full speed. I think I can manage to hold them still for a few hours."
I huffed. "Fine. But will you be able to sit still?"
That earned me another chuckle, this one softer. "Guess we'll find out, won't we?"
I shook my head and finally picked up my pencil, settling in front of my canvas.
"Alright," I murmured to myself, letting my nerves melt away as I focused on the work ahead. "Let's begin."
The soft scratch of pencil against canvas filled the room, steady, rhythmic—an anchor keeping me grounded as I worked.
I started with the shape of his wings, mapping out their vast expanse, the way they framed his body like an extension of his very presence. The leather stretched taut over powerful muscle, lined with delicate veins and faint, nearly imperceptible scars.
I shouldn't have been staring so intently.
I shouldn't have been so utterly captivated by every detail of him.
And yet, as I let my pencil glide over the page, shaping the curve of his shoulder blades, the slope of his spine, the corded muscles of his back... I couldn't stop.
He's just a model. Just another subject.
Then why did my fingers tremble slightly when I shaded the deep ridges of his scars? Why did my chest tighten at the thought of what he must have endured to earn them?
Cassian shifted slightly, flexing his shoulders, his wings twitching.
I snapped out of my daze, scowling. "Sit still."
He huffed a laugh. "I don't think I've ever sat this still in my entire life."
I hummed in response, refocusing. Carefully, I traced the lines of his back, the contours of muscle that spoke of centuries of battle, of training, of dedication. My gaze flicked up to his wings again, and a quiet sigh escaped me.
"What's that sound for?" he asked, the amusement clear in his voice.
I hesitated, then admitted, "They really are beautiful, you know."
Cassian stilled for a fraction of a second before letting out a soft chuckle. "Careful, sweetheart. Keep saying things like that and I might start thinking you actually like having me here."
I rolled my eyes. "You act like I don't."
Silence.
A pause, just long enough to make my stomach flutter with uncertainty.
Then, "Good. I like being here."
I pressed my lips together, pretending that warmth hadn't bloomed in my chest at his words. Pretending that I wasn't getting lost in the strong, elegant lines of his body.
I dipped my brush into the paint, moving on from the sketch to the first careful strokes of color.
Cassian's voice broke through the quiet. "You know, if you wanted a full anatomy study, you could've just asked."
I blinked, pulling back slightly. "...What?"
He turned his head just enough to smirk at me over his shoulder. "You're painting my back, too, aren't you?"
My cheeks heated. "Well—yes, but—"
"Seems unfair to only get half the view."
I huffed. "I don't need the full view, Cassian."
His smirk deepened. "That's a shame. I'd be a very cooperative model."
I nearly choked on air. "Just—shut up and sit still."
He laughed, the sound warm and rich, settling in my bones.
I shouldn't have been enjoying this so much.
I shouldn't have been admiring the golden-brown glow of his skin, the way the light cast soft shadows over the planes of his back. I shouldn't have let my eyes linger on the scars that marred him—proof of all he had endured, of everything he had survived.
And I certainly shouldn't have wished that all his teasing, all his flirtation, was anything more than just casual banter.
Cassian was like this with everyone.
Wasn't he?
I was not going to let Cassian distract me.
Even if he was currently sprawled in front of me, shirtless, his wings stretched just so, his body the most stunning thing I'd ever painted.
Even if his words curled around me like smoke, warm and teasing, making my thoughts race in ways they shouldn't.
I swallowed hard and turned my attention back to the canvas, forcing myself to focus.
I just had to finish the painting.
And ignore the way my heart had begun to beat just a little too fast.
The rhythmic strokes of my brush filled the quiet space, punctuated only by the occasional scrape of bristles against canvas and the steady sound of Cassian's breathing.
Nearly an hour has passed, and to his credit, he'd been holding still remarkably well. Mostly.
"You're awfully quiet back there, sweetheart," Cassian mused, his voice carrying just the hint of a smirk. "Not getting bored, are you?"
I huffed, dipping my brush into a deeper shade of pigment. "I'm working, Cassian."
"I am your work right now."
I rolled my eyes. "And you're a very high-maintenance subject."
Cassian chuckled. "I prefer engaging. You should be thanking me, really. Keeps things from getting dull."
I let out a soft laugh despite myself. "You're half-naked in front of me, Cassian. Things aren't exactly dull."
Silence.
A beat too long.
I froze as I realized what I'd just said.
Cassian's wings twitched. Then, "Well, well."
I groaned. "Forget I said that."
"Oh, absolutely not." He turned his head slightly, just enough for me to catch the smug curve of his lips. "You just admitted to being entertained by me. I'm savoring this moment."
"I said forget it."
"Nope. It's mine now."
I sighed, glaring at the canvas like it had personally wronged me.
Cassian chuckled again but thankfully let it drop, settling back into his position.
A few minutes passed in something almost resembling peace. I worked on layering in the first washes of color, the warm tones of his skin against the deeper hues of his wings.
Then—"So, do I get a say in how I'm portrayed?"
I lifted a brow. "Are you worried about artistic liberties?"
"A little."
I fought back a smile. "I could make you look very dramatic, if that's what you're asking. Add some storm clouds in the background. Maybe a tragic tear rolling down your face."
Cassian snorted. "As tempting as that sounds, I'd rather not be mistaken for some brooding, tortured soul."
I hummed. "That is Azriel's aesthetic."
"Exactly. We can't both have it."
"I don't know," I mused. "I think it could work. Maybe a single candle for dramatic lighting—"
"Absolutely not."
I grinned, but before I could make another remark, Cassian stretched, his wings flexing slightly before tucking back into place. The movement was so fluid, so casual—so utterly him.
I quickly went in with another light sketch, wanting to capture the way his muscles moved, the effortless strength in his frame.
"You still with me back there?" he teased, amusement lacing his voice.
"Yes, Cassian. Some of us are capable of focusing."
"Some of us just don't need to focus that hard to admire what's in front of us."
I frowned slightly, not quite catching his meaning. "What?"
He chuckled. "Nothing, sweetheart."
I shook my head, deciding not to press it.
"Alright," I finally said, leaning back to study my work. "I have the basics down. You can put your shirt back on now."
Cassian made a low, exaggerated noise of disappointment. "Damn. And here I was hoping you'd need me to pose for a few more hours."
I rolled my eyes. "Don't sound too heartbroken. I will be making you sit for another session later."
His grin was wicked. "You just can't get enough of me, can you?"
"Shut up and put your shirt on, Cassian."
He laughed, grabbing his discarded shirt—but the knowing look in his eyes told me that he'd be holding onto this moment for a long time.
And for some reason, I didn't mind one bit.
Cassian came in for many sessions after that.
I probably could've finished the painting on my own after the first few sittings, but he insisted I get all the colors right, all the details perfect. And, well... I wasn't exactly going to complain about having him shirtless in front of me for hours on end.
So, day after day, he showed up, sauntering into the studio with that insufferable smirk, stretching his wings like he owned the place. And I let him, indulged him—indulged myself—until the painting was finally finished, until there was no reason for him to sit for me anymore.
The thought left a strange hollowness in my chest, but I ignored it, focusing instead on adding the final highlights to his wings.
Cassian shifted in his seat, rolling his shoulders.
I glanced up. "Getting restless?"
He grinned. "You gonna keep me trapped here all day, sweetheart?"
I smirked. "You're free to go anytime." I glanced at the painting. "But you'd be leaving unfinished art behind, and that would just be tragic."
Even though all I had left to add was a small, near-invisible highlight, I liked the idea of keeping him there just a little longer.
Cassian chuckled, shaking his head. "Fine, fine. I'll sit still for you a little longer."
Something in the way he said it—for you—sent a ripple of warmth through me, but I shoved it aside. I exhaled, finally setting my brush down.
"Alright," I said, stretching my arms. "You're officially free."
Cassian groaned dramatically, standing and rolling his neck. "Finally." He grabbed his shirt, but instead of putting it on, he slung it over his shoulder, turning toward me with that insufferable smirk. "Is it done?"
I turned the easel slightly toward him.
It was hard to admire my own work. After staring at it for so long in every unfinished form, I wasn't sure if I loved it or if I just loved the image I had painted. But I could say I was proud of it. That was enough.
Cassian stepped closer, blinking at the still-wet canvas. His brows lifted, his mouth parted slightly. He didn't speak, didn't crack a joke, didn't smirk like he usually did.
I shifted under his gaze. "Well?"
He inhaled, slow. "Sweetheart..." He sounded almost reverent. "It's... it's beautiful."
A laugh bubbled from my lips. "You're only saying that because it's you I painted."
"No—I mean, I am beautiful, but this is... magnificent." His voice was softer than usual, quieter.
Something flickered in his eyes as he turned toward me, something warm and fond. It was enough to make my stomach flip.
I swallowed. "Thanks, Cass."
His grin returned. "Proud of yourself?"
I nodded, offering a small smile. "Yeah. I am."
His wings twitched. "Good. You should be."
A comfortable silence settled between us for a moment, the weight of his words pressing into me in a way I wasn't sure how to handle.
Then Cassian cleared his throat, stretching his arms over his head. "Now that it's finished..."
Something about the way he said it sent a prickle of anticipation down my spine.
He grinned. "...About my favor?"
I groaned. "You actually kept track of that?"
Cassian scoffed. "Sweetheart, I'd never forget a promise like that." He crossed his arms over his broad chest, eyeing me like he was scheming. "And I know exactly what I want."
A slow, lazy smirk curled his lips.
And for some reason, my stomach flipped all over again.
I raised a brow, waiting.
Cassian took a step forward. Then another.
My stomach flipped. "Okay?"
"I want you to go out with me."
I blinked. "What?"
His smirk deepened. "That's my favor. You and me. A date."
I stared at him, sure I'd misheard. "You're joking."
"Nope."
My heart did something strange, something uneven, and I let out a short, breathy laugh. "Cassian, you flirt with everyone."
"Not like this." His voice was quieter now. Steady.
I swallowed. "But—you're just messing with me. You've been messing with me this whole time."
Cassian sighed, running a hand down his face. "Gods, you're impossible." Before I could react, he stepped closer, hands coming up to cup my face, thumbs brushing my cheeks.
My breath hitched.
"Sweetheart," he murmured, tilting my chin up slightly. "Listen to me. I have not spent weeks finding every excuse under the sun to come here, sitting shirtless for hours just so you'd look at me, calling in a whole-ass favor just to take you out—just to mess with you."
I opened my mouth, but no words came out.
Cassian's thumbs brushed against my skin again, his hazel eyes locked on mine. "I like you. I want you. And I swear to the Gods, if I have to spell it out anymore, I'm going to start carving it into the damn walls."
I let out a breathless laugh, my face burning. "You're serious."
His lips curled. "Took you long enough."
I exhaled, shaking my head slightly. "I—"
"Just say yes, sweetheart," he murmured, voice teasing, but there was something else in his gaze—something warm, something steady. Something real.
I swallowed hard. Yes."
Cassian grinned. "Good choice."
His hands lingered on my face for just a second longer before he pulled back, grabbing his shirt off his shoulder and throwing it on. He shot me one last smirk as he backed toward the door.
"I'll pick you up tomorrow after your class."
And with that, he was gone, leaving me standing there—heart racing, mind spinning, trying to process the fact that Cassian had actually just asked me out.
That all this time, he hadn't been messing with me at all.
Feyre was going to laugh at me for not catching on sooner when I tell her.
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theoneandonlysourcandy · 2 days ago
Text
Harley sawyer X reader Headcanons
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Gosh he’s so HHHOOOOTTT I couldn’t wait for people to start writing about him I HAD to do this. Writing this at 1 am so if there’s stupid stuff sorry. Also I rewrote some of the headcanons and got rid of one bc they felt mischaracterizing
Inspo: @thatssomegoodsoup
Content warning: mentions of death, some spoilers
📺 - He’d want to cuddle sometimes, but, he would be reluctant to. He’s a cold, metal robot, that wouldn’t be very comfortable. But, if you did, he’d try to use something to cover his robot body, like, how most people draw him with a long black cloak thingy?
📺 - You can see his screen faintly glitch for a moment if you suddenly kiss him. If you ask him about it, he’ll try to convince you it never happened and your just seeing things.
📺 - He’d HATE you leaving his lab. Do you see how dangerous this place is? He can’t have the one person he actually cares about dying. Whenever you do leave the lab, he has yarnaby come with, while keeping a close eye on you with the cameras.
📺 - Even if he worries for you sometimes, he’d never say it.
📺 - He’s rarely that affectionate, but he’ll let you hold his hand or arm if you’d like. Sometimes while he’s thinking he’ll just subconsciously do either of those with you. If your not there, he’d tap his finger against something or click a pen over and over.
📺 - One of the toys hurt you? Oh. Oohh. They’ll feel pain worse then any experiment he ever put them through.
📺 - There really isn’t anyone that can make him jealous in the factory anymore, but if there was, he could get jealous pretty easily, and he’d make sure to “take care” of them quickly.
📺 - Keeps you far away from most of the toys. Though, he lets yarnaby and that weird big baba chops thingy he has be with you as much as they like. They can protect you, plus, he knows you think their adorable, even if he doesn’t quite understand how you can see those creatures as cute.
📺 - Sit on his lap and he starts overheating. Seriously, you saw some smoke coming from him once. He said it was from one of the many broken machines.
📺 - On rare occasion you can catch him staring lovingly at you with his eye. Though, he does it pretty often, he’s just quick to snap out of it and hide it before you can see.
📺 - He loves your looks. He’ll tell you your beauty and your handsomeness, how your eyes have a beautiful sparkle to them, how your hair frames your face perfectly, he can see all the beauty in you, and he can see what you think are flaws. You are his beautiful trophy that he earned.
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