#she loves kissing that man as a distraction instead of doing ANYTHING else | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

pure-smut · 10 months ago

Text

infatuated.

featuring: Ryomen Sukuna x f!reader

contains: college!Sukuna, size kink, Sukuna has a huge dick (obvs), riding, obsessive behaviour from Sukuna at the end

note: all characters are aged up to 18+!

word count: 1.8k

series: 1. infatuated | 2. obsessed | 3. addicted | 4. toxic | 5. feral

masterlist

MDNI | 18+ content

Ryomen Sakuna is well-known around campus – big, brutish, the most arrogant man to walk the planet. But if whispers amongst the girls were anything to go by, he’s also a damn good fuck.

It’s why you, fresh off the anti-climactic evaporation of a sub-par situationship that had no right to make you feel as glum as you do, have the sudden desire to fuck Sukuna.

You’re in a club, drowning your sorrows with your friends, when you lock eyes with him across the room. It’s not hard – he’s a head and a half taller than everyone else. But he doesn’t look away. And, you realise, neither do you.

Yeah, he might be a walking red flag. Yeah, you might be bitter and sad over a failed not-relationship. But it’s not like you’re fucking his personality, right? Just one good night. Just one really, really good fuck. Then you can wake up tomorrow, satisfied and ready to move on.

You down your drink and stalk over to him. Time to put those whispers to the test. *

Okay, maybe there’s some truth to the rumours.

One quick drink and a cab ride later, Sukuna has you on his lap, straddling his thighs as you make out on his sofa. He’s so big your legs are basically spread for him already, slotted on either side of his thighs as his hands grope your ass shamelessly.

He didn’t say much to you when you asked him to come home with you. Only a grin played on his lips as he grabbed your hand and said, “No. You’re coming to mine.”

You hadn’t expected him to be such a good kisser though. Your hands card through the pink hair at the nape of his neck as he slides his tongue over yours. Even with you on top of him, you know he’s actually the one in control. He dictates the pace, the speed, everything. Where your previous situationship had demanded that you do all the work, this relinquishing of control feels good. Freeing. You melt into it and into him, pressing your chest against his.

When Sukuna feels you relax, he pushes your dress up past your hips. One large finger hooks onto your panties from behind, pulling them to the side. Without breaking the kiss, he dips his free finger between your folds, checking how wet you are. You gasp at the sudden feel of his calloused finger but Sukuna quickly swallows it. At the feel of your slick arousal, his cock throbs.

“So wet already,” he murmurs, pulling his mouth back only slightly. “Just from kissing?”

Your cheeks burn but you’re distracted by a thick finger prodding your entrance. You gasp lightly and push your hips back, seeking more. Sukuna chuckles.

“I knew you were needy when you threw yourself at me tonight but still…” He grins. “You really do need a good fuck.”

“S-shut up,” you manage to stammer out but Sukuna only laughs.

He withdraws his hand and you have to supress a whine. Instead he undoes his jeans and pulls his cock free. It slaps against your stomach, hard and hot. When you look down at it, your eyes widen. Sukuna smirks – he always loves the look a girl gives him when she sees his cock for the first time.

“I don’t… I don’t know if it’ll fit.” You swallow past the lump in your throat. It’s so big, you want to say but you don’t want to feed his ego any more than necessary.

“That’s why you’re on top, baby.” Sukuna gives an easy grin. “You probably won’t be able to take it all so just do whatever you can.”

His condescending tone makes you frown. You jut your chin out defiantly. Oh, I’ll take it all, you think to yourself. Smug bastard.

You raise your hips, hovering over his fat mushroom tip. You’re already wet but he hasn’t even fingered you to prep you so you know you need to go slow. But determination courses through you. Sukuna watches you, one eyebrow cocked in amusement, as you look down in concentration. Slowly, you sink down onto his cock.

Your nails dig into the thick muscle of his shoulders as you leverage yourself. The stretch is immense but it’s delicious too – a heady mix of burning pleasure. Sukuna puts his hands behind his head, a self-assured smile on his lips as he watches you. He loves this part – loves watching girls struggle to fit him inside them. It makes his ego swell as much as his cock.

You manage a few inches before you have to stop, sweat already glazing your brow. You reach down to play with your clit, making yourself as wet as possible. Sukuna bites his bottom lip as he watches you play with yourself, a third of his cock buried inside you. You feel him throb and it only spurs you on, your pussy drooling around him, stretching to accommodate him.

“You look pretty fucking hot like this,” Sukuna admits, bringing one hand forward to grope your tit. “You need some help, baby?”

You’re too busy concentrating to speak so you give a short nod. Sukuna tweaks your nipple, rolling it between his fingers in a way that shoots sparks through your whole body. You tip your head back and gasp, feeling yourself tumbling closer to an orgasm. Even though he’s not fully inside you, his cock is managing to rub against your walls in a way that makes your eyes rolls back.

Sukuna has to admit he’s enjoying himself. The sight of you making yourself cum on his cock is pornographic and your pussy is squeezing him so tight. He has to fight to urge not to thrust up. Instead, he roughly plays with your tits, enjoying the way your nipples stiffen under his touch. Your body is so responsive to him, so ready for him. Your gummy walls massage his cock in a way that makes him want to go feral. Every muscle in his body is taut as a bowstring, restraining himself.

You open your eyes to see the hunger in his face, a notch between his brows and his lips slightly parted, eyes intense. A thrill runs up your spine. You want to see him hungrier.

Still rubbing your clit, you lower your hips and sink further onto his cock. This time, you’re able to take a few more inches, your pussy enveloping him tightly. Sukuna can’t stop himself from moaning this time, your plush walls hugging him. His hands drop to your hips, holding them with an iron grip.

“Fuck,” he breathes. “That’s good, baby, you’re doing so good.”

You’re taking him better than he thought you would. You’re two-thirds down, your lips gripping him as though you don’t want him to leave. Nevertheless, you slowly bob up and down, never fully withdrawing. The sensitive head of his cock rubs a euphoric friction against your walls, making you both moan contentedly. Sukuna half wants to stay like this forever, never leaving the hot, soft grip of your sweet pussy. The other half of him wants to pin you down and make a mess of your insides, painting your pussy white with his cum.

Your fingers pick up speed against your clit. The combination of Sukuna’s girth stretching your hole and your fingers rubbing your sensitive bud are bringing you close to the edge. You’ve nearly taken him all and you know you can do more – you just need to cum first to loosen up.

“Ah, fuck, that’s it,” Sukuna groans, his grip on your hips tightening to stop himself from bucking his hips. “Fuck yourself on my cock, baby.”

And so you do. You bounce up and down until your legs cramp, but even then, you ignore it and keep going. You rub tight circles on your clit, the way you know you like, and throw your head back in an silent scream.

“Fuck… fuck!” you squeal as your orgasm rushes through you, curling your toes and arching your back.

Sukuna watches you, his eyes flicking down to your pussy to watch your juices run down his cock. He’s almost painfully hard, teased to the brink of his own orgasm. When girls can’t take him all, he usually waits for them to finish on him before getting them to suck him off, bringing him to a finish in their mouth.

But you…

When you come down from riding your high, there’s a spark of defiance in your eyes. You plant your hands on his shoulders and, locking eyes with him, you sink your hips down until your thighs meet his.

Sukuna’s eyes widen. His breath hitches. He looks down to see you joined together, his cock fully buried inside you.

You’ve taken all of him.

“Fuuucck.” Sukuna groans long and loud, the new sensation of his cock being fully enveloped almost making him cum right then and there.

You grin, a sense of accomplishment spurring you on. Your legs are still sore so you grind against him instead, leaning forward to suck sweet kisses on his neck.

“Holy shit.” Sukuna buries his fingers even deeper into your hips, encouraging you to grind harder. “That feels so fucking good, baby.”

Your pussy is addictive. Sukuna wants to live here like this, fully sheathed inside you as your soft, hot walls milk his cock. He’s never known this sensation before, this delicious heat as your bodies fully connect. Your plush ass nestled against his thighs, your clit rubbing against him as you grind, your lips wrapped around him to the base of his cock. Fuck. You’re incredible, he thinks.

“Cum inside me, Sukuna,” you whimper in his ear.

You don’t need to tell him twice. Sukuna growls animalistically, burying his face in your neck as his cock throbs once. Twice.

You feel him explode inside you, hot, sticky cum coating your walls. You keep grinding until he’s done, milking him for all he’s worth. It’s only when you make to move away, to pull your puffy pussy away from his cock that he hardens his grip on you again.

Before you can ask him what’s wrong, he captures your lips in a deep kiss. It’s a surprise but a pleasant one – you didn’t take Sukuna for someone who kissed after sex. You make out for a while, his cum leaking out around his softening cock. It’s only when your thighs are slick with both of your juices that you pull away again.

“Thanks, Sukuna.” You smile at him. “I needed that.”

You hop off his lap, satisfied. To you, the plan worked. You’re content and ready to move on from your shitty situationship.

But Sukuna has never cum inside anyone before. Never been able to. Never met anyone who could take all of him. He watches you pad away to the bathroom to clean up, humming happily. You might be going home tonight, content and oblivious, but something dark stirs inside Sukuna. He knows he’s never letting you go.

masterlist

Support me on Ko-Fi! ♡

#jjk smut #jujutsu kaisen smut #sukuna x reader #ryomen sukuna x reader #ryomen x reader #sukuna smut #ryomen sukuna x you #sukuna ryomen smut #ryomen sukuna smut

1K notes · View notes

pretty-little-mind33 · 4 months ago

Text

Tangerine x stripper fem!reader

Mini-series summary: When Tangerine opened an underground strip-club to cover for his murder-for-hire business operation, he wasn't expecting to become so easily distracted by one girl in particular.

Chapter summary: Accidentally walking into something you shouldn't have causes you to learn about Tangerine's real business, effectively creating a rift between you and him (4.8k) + epilogue (1.6k)

Warnings: blood, violence, slut shaming, murder, drugs, alcohol, guns, illusions to sexual assault and mentions of death but nothing happens, still a happy ending!

credit : @little-miss-dilf-lover 🤍🤍 thank you endlessly!

BAD FOR BUSINESS MASTERLIST

You're sitting on Tangerine's desk during your break. He's working on his laptop, listening to you blabber with intention, only half focused on his work. Instead, his focus is drawn to the way you cross your legs, the baby-blue babydoll dress you're wearing tonight hugs your curves and that bow in your hair is making him lose focus.

You've barely touched your yogurt and Tangerine flips a page, interrupting you: "You should eat, love." He reminds you and you nod, taking another spoonful.

"And then Nicola told him to fuck off," you continue, through your mouthful, "which was hilarious. You should have seen his face! Scummy bastard! Annette and I were laughing so hard," you laugh at your own story. Tangerine seems a little less amused.

"Is Nicola okay? Customers should not be making comments like that."

You smile a little, placing your yogurt on his desk and leaning closer to him. One of your heels rests on his chair now, your hand playing with his hair. "She's fine, babe, you know we can take care of ourselves."

Tangerine looks up now, his gaze stern. "Yeah, I know," he says and then sighs, "I just worry."

"I know," you laugh and kiss his cheek. You sit up and jab your spoon into your yogurt again. "Honestly, I don't even know why you do this job. You hate anything to do with this business."

Tangerine is quiet. He turns to his laptop again, your words sinking in. If only you knew, he thinks.

"I don't hate you," he says softly, almost embarrassed. He feels shitty. He wishes he could tell you the truth about what this is, and he wishes he could officially ask you to be his girl. He wishes for a lot of things he can't fulfill.

Not now.

You smile, opening your mouth to say something else, when the door suddenly swings open. Startled, you stand up and adjust your little dress, suddenly self-conscious at being caught in your boss's office during your break. No one usually comes in, especially unannounced.

Tangerine stands as well, discreetly putting himself in front of you as a tall, lanky man dressed in a grey suit walks in. His hair is jet black and he has rectangular glasses perched on his nose that hide a dark pair of eyes. He looks a little older than Tangerine, maybe mid-thirties, and he pauses when he sees you.

"Fucking our employees now, Tangerine," the man smirks. You recognize him as the other boss. He's barely around anymore, but you remember meeting him on your first week.

Unlike Tangerine, this man has always make your stomach feel queasy.

You tense a little and grab your yogurt from the desk you now realize Tangerine most likely shares with this man. Tangerine looks even tenser than you are and he turns to you, sending you a look that you read as "Go. Please."

You nod, quickly walking to the door and down the stairs. Tangerine relaxes a little once you're out the door but he continues to glare at Leo.

"No one is fucking anyone," he says as calmly as he can.

"In that suit, I'm not surprised you can't get a girl like her," Leo whistles, dropping his briefcase as he hangs his coat. "Which one was that already? Candy? Diamond? She's smoking hot."

Tangerine holds his tongue. He doesn't want Leo to know of his feelings for you so he just corrects him. "Angel. You should really know our employees' stage names by now."

Leo rolls his eyes as he walks over, picking up a folder. "They're strippers. Who cares?" He reads over the documents and then looks up at Tangerine. "Thanks for taking over when I was away, mate, why don't you go take a break, hm?"

Tangerine's jaw clenches. He hates how Leo thinks he can boss him around when he's always the one doing the work. He hesitates for a moment. Usually, he isn't afraid to call Leo out on his bullshit but he has more important things to worry about than his ego. He wants to check on you.

He didn't even get to kiss you goodbye.

"Oi, T," Leo calls just as Tangerine walks out the door. Tangerine groans and peeks his head back into the room, an annoyed look on his face. "Meeting tonight, remember?" Leo's words ring in Tangerine's ears and his expression falters for a moment.

He'd completely forgotten.

"Ya, I remember," he says roughly, his voice strained as he ignores the impending doom he feels in his stomach as he turns to rush down the stairs to find you.

* * *

You slip on your mary-janes, grab your woolen coat, and hurry out the door. It's late and you're the last girl here. You've been having this awful habit of daydreaming lately, your stomach filled with butterflies as you remember Tangerine's lips on yours, his hands caressing your skin. You shake the thoughts, turning to lock the backroom with the spare keys you have.

You hum, thinking back to the words Tangerine had whispered in your ear when he'd found you after you'd hurried from his office. You make me happy. You feel your cheeks warm as you remember the quick kiss he'd given you in the dark corner near the bathroom and how stupid it is that he manages to make that sketchy corner into something so romantic.

You'd usually leave from the backdoor, but tonight you decide to walk through the lounge in case Tangerine hasn't gone home yet. Sometimes, he waits for you without even needing to be asked. However, this time, the lounge is empty.

You look up, seeing that the blinds to Tangerine's office are shut but that the light is on. You can see faint movement behind the blinds and the movements pique your interest.

Is Tangerine working late?

It hadn't even crossed your mind to remember Leo's arrival just a few hours earlier.

You walk up the stairs, holding your bag over your shoulder. You can hear hushed voices; multiple male voices you don't recognize and your stomach flips with nerves. You know you should turn around, you really should, but you don't.

You're too curious.

The office door isn't fully closed and without thinking, you gently push on it with your open palm, freezing when you peer inside. There are four men in the room; all of them are large and scary with various guns displayed on their bodies. They're laughing obnoxiously, discussing something about a latest kill.

You bite the inside of your cheek, scanning the room as you listen in. You see Tangerine and Leo in the center, leaning over the desk as they look at what appears to be plans of some sort. More guns lay on the desk and the entire room smells like smaok and drugs.

"40 million quid for three men dead, easy," one man laughs, flicking his cigar into the ashtray.

Leo chuckles, clapping Tangerine on the back. "What do you say, mate? Sounds like a good one, hm?"

Tangerine nods, still looking over the plan, his eyebrows pinched. "I suppose three kills is simple."

You're frozen in shock. Kills? 40 million? Your mind can't seem to wrap your head around what's happening. You look at Tangerine and for the first time in weeks, you don't recognize the man you're looking at. You back up, holding your breath.

You need to get out of here.

"Bloody hell, who do we have here?" A man's hoarse voice echoes around the room and suddenly, his hand is wrapping around your arm and dragging you inside.

Your bag falls to the ground. You let out a gasp, squirming in the man's grip but he holds you still. He's much taller than you and much stronger. He smells like alcohol and you can see the gun on his hip and you hold your breath in fear.

The men whistle at your entrance, laughing amongst themselves. The only man who isn't finding this amusing is Tangerine; he's tense, his dark blue eyes locked with yours as he wears an expression you can't read, but his chest is rising and falling rapidly.

"Oh, look who it is, it's Angel again," Leo barks a cruel laugh, sauntering around the desk as he approaches you slowly. His hand raises and he caresses your cheek with his knuckles. You wince, pulling away from his touch as if he's burning you and Leo pouts, faking pity.

"This one of yer strippers?" a man asks. He's much older than the others, his hair whitening, and he's grinning at you like one of your customers would.

Leo nods, wrapping his hand in your hair to keep you from squirming again. "Yup," he pops the "p" and grins, "Isn't she just a prize? Tangerine sure knows how to pick 'em."

Tears brim in your eyes at the implication. What had he told them? You look at him, watching him just stand there. He hasn't moved or said a word.

You're shaking now, terrified at being trapped in this situation. You aren't usually helpless but they're outnumbering you, and they have guns.

Leo pulls on your hair a little, making you gasp in pain again. The other man wraps his arm around your waist, grinning.

"You shouldn't have wandered in here, little mouse," Leo whispers. He smiles when he sees the tears on your cheeks. "Because you know what this means, hm? Can't have you scurrying off and snitching on us—"

Your eyes widen and you squirm harder. "No-no-no please, I won't tell anyone! Please. Tangerine!" You sob, angling yourself towards Tangerine as you try and yank yourself out of the man's grip.

The other men look towards him. "Ya close with the stripper?" One snarls, his smirk evident.

Leo keeps his hand in your hair, pulling on it to shut you up. You muffle your sobbing in fear of angering them anymore. Tangerine doesn't speak, his gaze intense, and the men take that as a no. Leo turns to you again and laughs. "Such a shame. She's so pretty. She must bring us a lot of money."

"Can I have a turn with her before we kill her?" The man holding your waist asks, earning some raucous laughter and agreement from the others and you feel defeated. You keep looking at Tangerine, pleading with your eyes as you cry softly.

Leo untangles his hand from your hair and nods. "Sure, have your fun, boys. I don't fuck used goods," he laughs cruelly and embarrassment washes over you. "Now, where were we?" He looks at the plans again, clearly disinterested in what's happening to you.

The man holding you slides his hand up your stomach but before he can touch you more intimately, Tangerine's voice interrupts; "No," he says plainly. You sniff, struggling weakly now as it hurts to move in the men's arms. You watch him take his gun and slide it into the waistband of his trousers behind him. Leo looks up, confused.

"My turn," Tangerine says, walking over and snapping his fingers. The men release you, making it clear Tangerine has authority. Your stomach sinks. Why hadn't he helped you then? You glance between him and Leo, not completelyunderstanding the dynamic, but as soon as you're not being held, you make a run for it.

You don't get very far because Tangerine grabs you and holds you close to him. You cry, hitting him as you scream and thrash against his body.

"Let me go! Please! Please!" Your head is spinning and everything begins to hurt. You can smell his cologne, a smell that was so familiar and reassuring now feels tainted and wrong. When he wraps his hand around your mouth, you gasp for air and dig your nails into his wrist, drawing blood. He hisses in pain but only tightens his hold on you.

"Shut up," he growls in your ear. You can hear his heart thumping in his chest and you begin to calm down so that you can breathe properly.

The other men watch in amusement. "Feisty little mouse," one exclaims. They all laugh.

"I'll take care of her," Tangerine says hoarsely, breathing heavily, still holding you so you don't move and the more he speaks, the harder you want to cry, "This little slut has been teasing me for weeks. She owes me," he pauses, and his voice is a little shaky, "and then I'll get rid of her."

The other men seem disappointed but Leo smirks, "No funny business, hm?"

Tangerine nods, his voice steady. "No. I'll be back in an hour."

The men all laugh and whistle and Tangerine presses his lips to your ear. "Don't scream when I move my hand, okay? Please." He whispers the last part for only you to hear and your chest tightens. Your vision is blurred with tears but when he removes his hand, you find yourself obeying him.

Some desperate part of is still hoping he'll save you.

He's rough as he yanks you with him down the stairs. Dread fills you and you start crying again, trying desperately to run in the opposite direction. Tangerine doesn't reprimand you for the noise as he pulls out outside and into a small alley near the bulging, the door slamming shut behind you. You're not screaming anymore, only crying.

"Please don't hurt me," you sob, trembling as he pushes you against the brick wall. "Please," you plead with him. Tangerine doesn't answer but his gaze is dark. He reaches behind him and grabs his gun, unlocking it. You break down in tears, your hands shaking.

You squeeze your eyes shut, expecting him to press the barrel to your head, but instead, you feel his familiar warmth as he rests both hands against the wall near your head, and his forehead hovers over yours as he inhales shakily. You hiccup, still very obviously terrified.

"I'm sorry," he whispers, his hands curling into fists on the wall. "I'm so sorry."

You choke on a sob.

Tangerine pulls away, his hand hovering over your cheek as if he wants to wipe your tears away but instead, he drops it to his side and looks into your eyes. "Run. Go home," he pauses and you can see that his own eyes look glossy with tears. "Don't come back. Please. Stay away. I'm so fuckin' sorry, angel," he says.

Your voice is caught in your throat.

"I love you," he continues and you just stare at him. You're unable to move. You don't know how to process any of this information.

Tangerine panics and slams his hand on the wall. "Go! Now!" he screams and you gasp, tears falling down your cheeks as you push past him and run down the dark street, not even knowing where you're running to and you don't look back. You feel queasy and you can't wrap your head around what just happened as the scene replays in your head.

Isn't she just a prize? Tangerine sure knows how to pick 'em.

I don't fuck used goods.

Don't come back. Please. Stay away. I'm so fuckin' sorry, angel.

I love you.

Back in the alley, Tangerine punches into the brick wall with a quiet shout.

* * *

Tangerine slams the door to his apartment, cursing loudly as he throws off his blazer. His eyes are bloodshot and he sniffles, sinking into his favorite armchair and holding his head in his hands. Tangerine doesn't cry. He hasn't cried in years, but for the first time, he can't help himself.

"What happened?" Lemon yawns, clearly having been woken up by the door slamming. When he sees the state his brother is in he pauses, his expression twisting. He stands in front of the armchair, unsure how to deal with this.

"T," he begins.

"She walked in on us," Tangerine states, his voice trembling. He fists his hair in his hands, clearly frustrated. "Y/n. She heard everything and they– they– scared 'er. They hurt 'er and I- just stood there and did absolutely fuckin' nothing!"

Lemon is quiet as Tangerine stands and begins to pace the living room. He doesn't know how to help. "Tangerine," he tries again, walking closer, "It's okay. You couldn't have done anything– not with Leo and the others in the room—she'll understand—"

"Understand?" Tangerine spits, his anger only directed at himself, "She can't come back to work, because of this. I had to make the think I- I- killed her. God, Lemon, I can never see her again. I ruined everything. But, I couldn't hurt her. I could never hurt her. I- she– she might call the cops on us—"

Lemon grips his nape, holding him still. "Y/n wouldn't tell anyone."

Tangerine stares into his brother's eyes. "She would have every right to, Lemon. And that's not the point, I— They– fuck–"

He breaks down, remembering your scared expression and how he had done nothing, and leans his head on Lemon's shoulder. "I ruined the only good fuckin' thing I had going for me. I really fucked up."

Lemon just holds him, not sure what to do or say to make this better.

* * *

You've been spending the last four days in bed, crying your heart out. You've shut your phone off. You've been ignoring all the worried texts and calls from your friends, missing all your uni classes and of course, missing your job.

Don't come back.

Tangerine's words ring in your ears and you press a pillow against them, curling up in a ball. You've been feeling sick since the encounter, remembering the men and their words and the implications of their words. The way they looked, the way they talked, how they tried to touch you.

Tangerine was a criminal, they'd been preparing a kill. He kills people. You can't seem to wrap your head around it. Sure, he was always a little cold and he seemed extra gentle with you as if he was making up for something, but you would have never imagined this.

You sob harder into your pillow, your heart breaking.

A few hours later, you're in your kitchen when you hear the knock on your door and you pause. Your heart leaps. You're in an old, paint-stained shirt, and some worn-out sleep shorts. You hear the knock again and pause again. This time, you hurry across the floorboards and peek through the peephole. Your breath hitches in your throat and you frown.

You unlock the old latch from your old apartment door and open it. "Hello?"

Lemon tilts his head, catching your eye, "Hey," he says sheepishly, holding up a box that you assume contains a pastry. "Can I come in?"

You hesitate, chewing on the inside of your cheek. Lemon wasn't in the room that night. He might not be involved. You know that's probably bullshit but curiosity gets the better of you again.

Plus, he has food and you're starving.

You open the door and let him in, holding out your hand for the pastry. Lemon smiles and hands it to you. He motions to the dining room and you nod. He follows you and you grab a fork silently, sitting down at your small table and opening the box.

You read the label; it's from your favorite bakery. The one you'd taken Tangerine to one weekend, on one of the outings you'd never outwardly said was a date. Inside is a chocolate croissant, your favorite, and your stomach twists.

You look up at Lemon who sat down in the chair opposite yours and he sends you a small smile. "He sent you, didn't he?"

Lemon nods. "He didn't think you'd want to see him."

You fiddle nervously with the box. "I don't want to see him," you say, your voice shaking a little.

Lemon nods again, clicking his tongue and looking down. "Listen, I know you're scared but my brother isn't a bad guy. He isn't. And he cares for you. A lot."

Tangerine's three-word confession rings in your ears and you can't deny the truth in Lemon's words. Still, you don't succumb that easily as your eyebrows crinkle.

"If he cares for me, as you say, he would have spoken up for me in that room."

Lemon sighs, "It isn't that simple. Tangerine and Leo–they have a complicated history and it would have been even more dangerous to speak out in a room full of—"

"Criminals," you finish for him, nodding. You close the pastry box, staring at Lemon with a hard expression. "You weren't there, Lemon. You can't understand how scary it was to be surrounded by a bunch of dangerous men, realizing you can't even trust the one man you thought you could."

Lemon listens, his gaze stuck on yours.

"Frankly, I don't think even think he meant it when he told me he loves me—"

Lemon's face twists and he shakes his head, clearly confused. "He told you he loves you?"

You pause, fiddling with the box again. "Yeah he did but—"

"No—no, my– my brother, he doesn't just say that to anyone. He doesn't say it if he doesn't mean it," Lemon says and you become quiet, hearing the solemn and serious tone in his voice, "And I know he fucked up, but now i really fuckin' think you should hear him out. He's outside, by his car. You should talk to him. And if you never want to see either of us again after, I promise we'll leave you alone. I promise, Y/n."

You ponder his words, looking up at him. Some part of you wants to ignore the knowledge that Tangerine is downstairs, waiting for you. You want to push him away, tell Lemon to fuck off and to never think about them again, but that's impossible.

I love you.

Tangerine's words are engraved in your memory. You can still feel his lips on your skin, the way he touches you with care, the way he looks at you like you're the only thing that matters. Your heart warms, just remembering how sweet he was.

And then you remember his hand covering your mouth, his harsh words, and your stomach drops.

You take a breath, grounding yourself. You don't know what to do, but some twisted fucked up part of you knows that if you don't go down and at least talk to him, you'll regret it forever.

"Okay," you say seriously and stand, walking into the living room and grabbing a hoodie. "One chance," you add, grabbing your keys. You lock your door behind you and then walk down the stairs behind Lemon.

Once the outside air hits your skin, you pause. Tangerine is standing by the car, just like Lemon said, and when he hears the door open he turns expectantly.

"What did she—" his voice falters when he sees you behind his brother. "Oh."

You're silent as you keep a distance from him. Lemon senses the tension and clears his throat. He excuses himself and turns to take a walk. Tangerine watches him leave, half hoping he'd stay. He turns to you again and shame contorts his expression. He walks forward only to have you back up against the building.

"I'm not gonna hurt you," Tangerine whispers, his voice quivering.

You glare at him, tightening your arms around you. The noise of the city fades into the background as you process his words. You shake your head, your voice is strained and you hope he can't tell you might burst into tears at any moment.

"How can I believe you? You lied."

Tangerine shakes his head. "I never lied to you."

"Well, you kept something from me! Something big!" you argue, your sadness turning into anger and when he walks forward again, you meet him and stab your hand in his chest, "Don't pretend you didn't have any opportunities to tell me! And don't pretend you didn't think I would have liked to know this is who my boyfriend really is!"

Tangerine blinks, his tongue skimming over his lips at the word boyfriend.

You stutter, "Potential boyfriend. Someone I was seeing—"

"I know," he interrupts you, running a hand in his hair. "I know I should have told you. I should have warned you before I started to become involved with you, okay? But can you blame me?"

"Well no," you interrupt and roll your eyes, "if I was a killer I wouldn't want anyone to know—"

Tangerine shakes his head, his gaze hard. "Y/n. It was never about me. I couldn't care less what happened to me. I mean, sure, it would hav' sucked and it will if you do tell anyone, but I truly don't care what happens to me—" his voice sounds stern again and your eyes are locked on his as you listen.

He walks closer and this time, you don't move. "I only cared for you. I care for you. I stayed awake at night dreading the very scenario that fuckin' happened. Imagining you looking at me the way you are now; with fear. Imagining worse— and it tore me up, darlin'."

You soak in his words, swallowing a lump in your throat. "Then why didn't you stop them? Why pretend to want to hurt me if you love me so much—" The word love falls from your lips and Tangerine's expression visibly tenses. Still, he tries to explain.

"Love, I had no choice," he says softly, "I was frozen in shock and I couldn't go against everyone in that room. You don't realize how worse that would have made the situation. I'm sorry. I wish I could have done more."

You shake your head, your voice low because of the morning crowd in the street, and add, "No. You had a choice. You always have a choice. You chose to just stand there and then pretend to want to hurt me? Do you realize how fucked up that is?"

Tangerine's jaw tenses and he holds out his hand as if he wants to caress your cheek but he pauses, frowning. He drops his arm.

"You're right. I did make a choice," he admits after a moment, reflecting on your words, "and I did what I thought was my best option in the worst possible situation. I'm really sorry I wasn't what you needed at that moment, and darlin', if I could go back, I'd do anything to prevent you from walking into that room—anything to keep you safe—but I was trying to protect you, even if you can't see it—"

He pauses and you glance at his lips, your gaze flickering to his eyes once more. "And you don't have to forgive me. You can even keep being angry with me. I can live with anger, but I'm here because I don't want there to be a single part of you that thinks I didn't care for you. That I don't care for you, because I do. I just- I want you to know how much I care. How I would never hurt you like they wanted to. Never. I- I adore you, everything about you; how you drive me absolutely mad when you're away and how you involuntarily draw me in with your laughter whenever you're around—

And I'm a smitten fool to think I ever deserved you," Tangerine continues and his voice becomes softer, "I just, please know that my feelings for you are very real. Please know that hurting you like this was the last thing I ever wanted and it will haunt me forever because I love you. I love you so damn much it hurts."

There is that word again and you pause, heart beating as you listen to him. You find yourself leaning into him and you can clearly see tears in his eyes, threatening to spill at every word. They mirror your own and yet you can't find the words to answer him.

At least not until he sighs and turns to leave, and your chest tightens;

"No wait," you gasp instinctively, grabbing his wrist so he turns around. When he does, you wrap your arms around his neck, practically throwing yourself into his arms.

Tangerine's arms tighten across your middle, burying his face in your shoulder as he lets out a shaky breath. "Angel," he whispers as you tighten your hold on him too.

"I don't forgive you, not completely, not yet," you admit breathlessly, but hold onto him anyways. "But you promise you love me?" You ask in his ear, sounding insecure. "You promise you'll keep me safe? Promise it. Please."

"I fuckin' promise," he says instantly with no hesitation, as he strokes a hand down your hair to soothe you. "I love you. I promise I mean this."

You nod, taking a moment to pause and inhale his cologne. Your mind fills with words from his apology, words that don't feel like empty promises, and instead of the memories from that night, all you feel is safe again.

You pull away and look at him seriously. "And no more pretending you don't want me to be yours, okay? No holding back this time, not now that I know—"

Tangerine nods, his warm hand cupping your cheek, "No more pretending. You're mine. My girl. If you'd still like to be? If you'll have me?"

You crack a small smile, nodding, "I would like that," you say wearily, still holding back those three little words.

Tangerine understands and doesn't press you. His heart beams, threatening to leap at you as if offering himself. He drops his arms, tightens his hands on your hips, he pulls you in and he presses his lips to yours.

It's delicate and loving and he's taking his time, savoring you. You relax in his arms, cupping his cheek. You can't help but smile against his lips, which causes the same smile from Tangerine and you laugh as he rests his forehead on yours.

"I love you," he whispers again and deep down, you know he truly means it.

FIN ♡

Epilogue - 6 months later

It took a while for your relationship with Tangerine to return to normal. In fact, it took a while for anything to feel normal again. You'd lost your job, having to lay low for three months or so because Tangerine needed Leo to keep thinking you were dead. But he had promised it was going to be easy and over with. He was the one who had records—your real name—Leo didn't, he never did. Tangerine promised there was no way that bastard could reach you. That he wouldn't let him.

"He's not very bright," Lemon had promised you, not hiding his disdain for the man.

And you chose to believe them.

It had taken a few months to fully digest Tangerine's career. He's tried to explain the best he could that it wasn't fun for him. That is was his work and he was good at his job. He was good at taking down bastards who deserved it, for one reason or another.

"Think of it like a more illegal version of your future job—executing bastards who deserve it," Tangerine had said nonchalantly.

"A fucked up illegal version," you retorted, sending him a dirty look and Tangerine shrugs, holding your hand and squeezing.

It definitely took a while but eventually, you came to terms with his profession.

Because you'd lost your income, Tangerine had also promised to take care of you until you finished your studies. You ended up staying with him and Lemon after the first two months, and luckily the commute to the university from his apartment was far less distance than from yours.

And anyways, living with Lemon and Tangerine was proving more entertaining than you'd expected.

"Who hid my toothbrush?!" Lemon grumbles one evening, storming into the kitchen where Tangerine is making his famous pasta sauce. You're reading him your essay and pause, looking up from your laptop.

"You need it now? We haven't had dinner," you say, glancing at Tangerine with a small smirk as he cuts up some tomatoes.

Tangerine just rolls his eyes, ignoring his brother as he focuses on not chopping up his fingers. "No one hid your toothbrush, Lemon. We're fuckin' adults, not children," he says and glances at you, reaching over and tapping his finger on the counter near your laptop, "Wanna continue, my love? I'm really liking this one."

You laugh, looking at him with a cheeky grin. "Yeah, I bet you do, babe. It's on organized crime," you turn to look at Lemon, who seems a little less distressed over his toothbrush and now more invested in the conversation as he leans on the counter.

You turn back to Tangerine as he pours the tomatoes into a pan. "Y'know, if I end up working as a lawyer and you got caught for being some criminal mastermind, I could prosecute you."

Lemon barks a laugh, "Oi, don't jinx him!"

You frown, shaking your head. "I'm not! I'm just saying!"

Tangerine comes up and presses a kiss to your forehead. "Or you could represent me. Y'know, be my lawyer," he says and winks.

"How romantic," Lemon teases and walks over to read your essay over your shoulder. "This shit seems complicated as fuck."

"It is," you say and chew on your pencil as you read the notes you have next to your laptop.

"My smart girl," Tangerine hums, stirring the sauce now as he wipes his hand on his apron. Lemon smirks at him and walks behind him, ruffling his hair a little just to tease him for being such a softie for you. Tangerine pushes him off.

You're lost in thought, re-reading your essay in your head as the brothers argue playfully in the background.

Later that night, you're brushing your hair in the mirror while Tangerine trims his mustache. You're unusually quiet and he knows instantly that something is up. Still, he doesn't mention it until the lights are off and you're snuggled against his chest, his arm under your head as he plays with his hair and listens to the ceiling fan.

"What's going on in that pretty head of yours, love?"

You hum, circling hearts on his chest as you snuggle against him. You hold your tongue until he taps your head, prompting you to answer him. "It's nothing," you whisper.

"Try me," Tangerine says into the darkness, his voice soft.

"I was joking back then but—what if it happens? What if one day, I have to represent you," you say after a moment of silence, your voice strained. "Or I have to actually prosecute you—"

Tangerine chuckles slowly, still stroking your hair. "I doubt you'll have to do any of those things, darlin', considering we're together—isn't that against your rules?"

You pause, holding him closer. "I mean yes and no but—" you pause, "what if, y-you don't come home because something went wrong or—you actually end up in prison," your voice fades and you go quiet again and Tangerine understands what this is about. He's never actually stopped to think about how you worry for him. How it must weigh on you, learning what you do, and to know all the things that could happen to him.

"Hey," he says and sits up to turn on the bedside lamp. He pulls you up with him and turns to look at you. "Sweetheart, nothing is gonna happen to me. I'm careful, ya know that." He strokes your cheek, wiping under your worried eyes as he taps your nose. "You have nothing to worry about."

You look at him, still worried. "But, how can you be so sure?"

Tangerine smiles and nuzzles his nose against yours, kissing your lips sweetly. As much as he doesn't want you to worry about him like this, it's kind of endearing. He pulls away and pulls on your bottom lip, smiling. "Because there is nothing in this world that could keep me away from you. I won't let it happen."

His words warm your chest and you smile, leaning into his touch as you kiss him. His hands cup your face as you climb onto his lap, straddling his hips. Your hands find his hair as you kiss him, tasting him as if you're starved of him.

"Promise?"

Tangerine nods between kisses. "I promise, angel."

You continue to kiss him, occasionally rocking your hips into his as he groans softly into your lips. It's sensual and soft and you're both exhausted. Tangerine runs his hands up your back, holding you. "I love you," he says, sucking love bites onto your neck.

You hum and say, "I love you," back as you kiss him again and dip down to give him your own set of marks. He groans, happiness filling him as he reaches back for the lamp and manages to turn it off again, plunging you both in darkness again.

"Mine," he whispers against your hair and you nod.

"Yours."

* ~ *

my dear reader, this was such a fun mini-series and i am incredibly proud of the writing in this. i really hope you enjoyed it as much as i enjoyed writing it and sharing it with you all! xo

#tangerine #tangerine fic #tangerine fanfiction #tangerine fluff #tangerine angst #tangerine x reader #tangerine x fem!reader #tangerine x y/n #tangerine x you #tangerine bullet train #tangerine bullet train x reader #tangerine bullet train x fem!reader #bullet train #bullet train movie #bullet train tangerine #aaron taylor johnson

248 notes · View notes

diamjem · 4 months ago

Text

braver than me

pairing: sebastian sallow x f!mc

summary: sebastian is a coward. lucky for him, she’s not.

word count: 3.3k

warnings: fluff, friends to lovers, kissing, pining, no use of y/n, sebastian is a coward

a/n: there’s just something about writing sebastian being hopelessly in love. like yes yes pls brain more!! i think it’s all the angst i’ve piled up as wips in my gdocs. enjoy n have a good day my loves!

[ao3] [wattpad]

sebastian was by no means a bashful man.

he’s been called many things in his time, but bashful had never made the list—not like confident, brazen, or his favorite, audacious. better yet: arrogance with legs, as ominis often put it, though in his typically snide way. sebastian, for his part, didn't mind it. matter of fact, he wore it like a badge of honor, shiny and dazzling. to him, there was a certain satisfaction in standing out. if everyone else was scrambling to find their place, sebastian had already claimed his. carved it out of sheer determination.

so why—why in merlin’s name—was he suddenly so timid when she was near? why, when it came to her, did he suddenly lose all sense of the man he thought he was?

it wasn’t as if he hadn’t spent every waking moment in her company. their time together had become so familiar, so entwined in the fabric of his daily life, that he'd stopped counting the hours they'd spent laughing, bickering, teasing—just being. she had become a constant, more than a friend, really. though "friend" was probably the closest word, but now? it felt wide off the mark. especially since a friend didn’t become tongue-tied when talking to her. a friend didn’t feel his pulse race when her fingers brushed his in the corridors. and a friend certainly didn’t blush like a fool at the sound of her laugh.

and it’s not like sebastian wasn’t aware of it, of course. he wasn’t blind to his own shifting thoughts and feelings. he had enough sense to recognize the telltale signs: the quickened heartbeat, the constant wandering of his thoughts back to her, the way his chest felt too tight when she was near. schoolboy feelings—childish, ridiculous, and entirely beneath someone like him. yet here he was, drowning in them. but knowing didn’t make it any easier to deal with.

there were moments when he thought about just telling her outright. dropping the weight of his feelings at her feet and dealing with whatever came after. it seemed so simple in theory. but in practice? all that mettle goes flying out the window.

instead, he became an embarrassing, bumbling mess. words tumbled out of him awkwardly, half-formed and nonsensical, or worse, he’d overcorrect and lean too hard into teasing, only to feel an immediate sting of regret when her expression faltered ever so slightly. she deserved better than his idiocy, but merlin help him, he didn’t know how to be anything else when it came to her.

for someone who prided himself on his charm and quick wit, sebastian had never felt so completely, hopelessly out of his depth.

in fact, it had gotten so bad that he’d taken to actively avoiding her. hiding. the idea was absurd, really. he was sebastian sallow, for merlin's sake. avoiding her was something someone with far less nerve would do. but there he was, sneaking through corridors, ducking into alcoves. he’d even locked himself in his dorm on more than one occasion, feigning a headache or some other excuse when ominis inevitably called him out on it.

but eluding her was becoming a cruel joke—one hogwarts itself seemed eager to play along with. the castle, grand and labyrinthine, conspired against him in ways he couldn’t quite explain. it was as if every hallway, every twisting corridor, every hidden nook was designed to lead him straight to her.

sebastian was on his way to a secluded spot he'd claimed for himself—quiet, tucked away, the perfect refuge for the pages of a book that promised to keep his mind distracted. that was the plan, at least, but luck—his luck, at least—was as cruel as ever.

he turned the corner and, there she was. she sat on the wide sill of a stained-glass window, knees drawn to her chest, her chin resting on them as she stared out toward the lake. her hair caught the light just so, the golden afternoon sun casting a soft glow around her that made her look almost ethereal.

as if on instinct, his heart skipped in giddy betrayal at the sight of her. but even as his chest swelled, his mind betrayed him, blanking entirely—completely and utterly useless, as it always seemed to be when she was anywhere in his line of sight. if he didn’t move soon, she’d surely find him staring ridiculously at her. but he was rooted to the spot, staring like a fool. it's not too late to keep walking. he could just move past her, pretend he hadn’t seen her. it wasn’t like she’d spotted him yet…

“i know you’re there, sebastian. i can see your reflection in the glass.”

her voice shattered his internal debate, soft but laced with unmistakable amusement. she turned her head toward him, her lips quirking into the faintest curve, her eyes crinkling at the corners.

every plan of escape evaporated in an instant at the sight of her smile.

“where were you headed to?” she asked, tilting her head as if daring him to lie.

he swallowed hard, clearing his throat in an attempt to appear nonchalant, but his voice came out in a stammer. “i… uh, y’know, j-just around,” he mumbled, immediately cursing himself for how he sounded because not one single syllable of that had been nonchalant.

“by around, you mean away from me?” she accused, her tone light but sharp enough to cut through his feigned indifference. “you think i haven’t noticed how you’ve been avoiding me like the plague?”

his stomach dropped, panic bubbling to the surface. “w-what? no,” he blurted, far too quickly and far too loudly to even be remotely convincing. “why would i be avoiding you?”

she shrugged, one of her brow quirking upwards. “you tell me.”

“well, i’m not.” he insisted, gripping the leather-bound book in his hand like it was some kind of lifeline. he waved it slightly for emphasis. “i’m only… looking for a nice, quiet place to read my book.”

her eyes narrowed playfully, but there was something curious lingering in her gaze. “okay, prove it.”

“prove it?” he repeated, blinking at her as if she’d just asked him to duel her right there in the hallway.

“sit with me,” she said simply, shifting slightly to make room on the windowsill beside her. her smile widened puckishly as she patted the empty space next to her. “you know, i find this spot quite serene, nice for reading. there's even a great view of the lake, and the added bonus of my presence. isn’t that just what you're looking for? unless, of course, you really are running from me.”

sebastian froze, his mind racing as every excuse he could possibly muster flitted through his head. he could still walk away, couldn’t he? he could laugh it off, make some joke, anything to escape the situation before he made an even bigger fool of himself.

but the look in her eyes held him there, rooted in place, and something in him knew—she knew exactly what she was doing. she was testing him, waiting to see if he’d take the bait. and if he ran now, she’d never let him live it down. worse, he wasn’t sure he would.

gathering every ounce of composure he could muster (which, to be honest, wasn’t much), he crossed the short distance between them, his legs feeling like lead. slowly, he perched on the windowsill beside her, keeping just enough distance to keep himself from spiraling further but close enough that her warmth brushed faintly against him.

“there,” he muttered, keeping his gaze fixed firmly on the lake outside. “happy?”

her smile softened, though he couldn’t bring himself to look directly at her to see it. “very,” she said, her tone softer now, less teasing.

sbastian tried—really tried—to focus on his book, but it was pointless. her presence beside him was unbearable in the best and worst ways, every tiny shift she made pulling his attention away like a magnetic force. the soft brush of her shoulder against his, the faint scent of her perfume, the way her hair caught the light—it was maddening.

and just when he thought he couldn’t handle more, she scooted closer to him.

“sebastian, have i done something to upset you?” she asked, her voice gentle but tinged with an earnestness that made his chest tighten.

his fingers toyed with the edges of his book. “what makes you think that?” he asked, trying to sound casual but failing miserably.

“oh, really?” she dragged the word, sarcasm biting in her tone. “you hide from me, you don’t talk to me, and when you do, you can barely look at me. it’s… quite unsettling.”

that sounded like a challenge, and if anything, sebastian never backed down from a challenge. so with a sharp exhale, he forced himself to look at her directly. his dark eyes locked onto hers, and though his intention had been to put her at ease, his intensity clearly had the opposite effect.

she blinked, recoiling slightly as a blush spread on her cheeks. “nevermind, that’s even more unsettling. merlin.”

her words threw him, his brow furrowing as his mouth twitched into something between a scowl and a smirk. “i-i thought you wanted me to look at you,” he replied, his voice coming out higher than intended.

“yes, look at me—n-not bore holes into my soul.” she argued, crossing her arms defensively.

sebastian let out a frustrated laugh, dragging a hand through his already disheveled hair. “i don’t understand what you want from me.”

“just—be normal!” she exclaimed, throwing her hands up in exasperation. “merlin knows you haven't been in a while!"

she huffed, turning her face toward the window, as if the act could somehow hide the deep crimson spreading across her cheeks.

sebastian, on the other hand, rather than feel chastised, found himself even more endeared. it only proved her right—he hadn’t been normal (whatever normal meant) in a long while. a normal sebastian would’ve jumped at any opportunity to tease her, to throw a cheeky remark her way that would’ve left her rolling her eyes or swatting at him playfully. he would’ve poked at her for being so flustered, delighted in the way she tried to mask it with her sharp wit. but now? now he felt utterly and hopelessly unarmed.

was it possible to be both terrified and thrilled at the same time? because that was what she did to him—tied him in knots while making him feel like he could take on the world. and yet, every time he tried to find the words to express even a fraction of what was going on inside him, they tangled in his throat, leaving him helpless and, frankly, hysterical.

she bit her lip as she traced invisible lines on the frosted panes. “i can't believe it’s come to a point where i have to say this,” she muttered. “but i miss you, sebastian. i miss my friend.”

that would have made his heart stop, if only she hadn’t said the word “friend.” it seems that word haunted him more than it should. reminded him of his place—of his cowardice.

he could feel the way his chest subtly deflated, the way his shoulders drooped just a fraction, as though the weight of her words had suddenly doubled. had she noticed? he hoped not. it was humiliating enough to feel the sting of disappointment so fiercely; he couldn’t imagine how much worse it would be if she saw it, too. because then she’d ask. and if she asked, he’d have to tell her everything because, merlin help him, he wasn't sure he had the fortitude to resist her charms.

he opened his mouth, determined to say something—anything to reclaim a shred of normalcy—but all that came out was a pitiful, incoherent, “i…”

she turned to look at him then. “what is wrong with you lately?” she asked, her voice softer now, though still tinged with a hint of frustration. “you're not… you. you’re quiet and… iffy. you're driving me insane, sebastian.”

you’re driving me insane, too. he wanted to scream, but, of course, he didn’t say that. instead, he swallowed hard, his hands fidgeting awkwardly at the pages of the book on his lap, as though they could somehow express the things his mouth refused to.

“i—i don’t know what you’re talking about,” he finally managed, though it sounded weak, even to him.

her eyes narrowed, locking onto his as though she was trying to see straight through him. for a long beat, she didn’t say anything, and sebastian swore she’d hit him with a petrificus totalus. he couldn’t breathe, couldn’t think—he could only wait as she weighed whatever thoughts were swirling in her head.

she opened her mouth, hesitated, then closed it again. when she finally spoke, her voice was steadier. firmer. “oh, to hell with it.”

sebastian didn’t know she could scoot any closer, but she did. the small distance that had remained between them disappeared, and now their noses were practically touching. his pulse quickened, the heat from her proximity fraying every last one of his nerves. her gaze bore into his, and he could do nothing but sit frozen, utterly at her mercy.

“since you don’t have the courage to acknowledge it,” she began, her voice quieter but no less pointed, “i will.”

she gulped. "something’s changed between us, sebastian. don’t try to deny it—i know you feel it too. otherwise, you wouldn't be acting like this."

feel it? of course he felt it. it was all he did these days—feel everything where she was concerned. every stolen glance, every unspoken word, every lingering moment that left his heart racing long after it ended. it consumed him to a pathetic degree. and yet, despite the storm in his chest, he couldn’t seem to find his voice. his hands clenched the edges of his book, knuckles white, as he stared at her in wide-eyed silence.

she took his lack of response as an invitation to continue. “the lingering stares,” she pressed, her tone softening as her cheeks flushed deeper. “the buzz when our hands accidentally touch… it’s unnerving for me too, but that doesn’t make it right to run from me.”

the words pierced straight through him, guilt and longing twisting like a knife in his chest. she deserved better—better than his awkward, stilted avoidance. better than his cowardice.

“what are you saying?” he managed to croak, though his voice was hoarse, and his heart felt as though it might burst from his ribcage.

her cheeks burned brighter—adorable, if only the situation wasn't so utterly terrifying—and for a moment, she hesitated. but then she squared her shoulders, inhaled deeply, and met his gaze with unwavering determination.

“i’m saying, sebastian, that i like you, and i reckon you like me too,” she said, her words coming out in a single breath, as if rushing to get them out before her courage faltered. she exhaled sharply, as though trying to steady herself, and added, “and it’s about bloody time we talked about it.”

sebastian stared at her, utterly dumbfounded. the confession was so unexpected, so raw and vulnerable, that for a moment, he didn’t know if he’d imagined it.

she liked him? she liked him.

the words echoed in his mind, each repetition making his chest swell just a little more. for a fleeting second, he was over the moon. but then, just as quickly, he came crashing back down to earth.

this wasn’t how he’d imagined this conversation going. not even close.

in his head (where he’d been stuck too often lately), he’d planned it all out—he’d bring her a bouquet of wildflowers he’d picked himself, maybe something with those little blue ones she seemed to love so much. he would give a heartfelt speech, every word meticulously practiced, rehearsed so many times in his mind that it could rival a monologue from shakespeare’s plays. not to mention, he would be the one to confess, not the other way around.

but no. his backbone—if one could even call it that—had failed him time and time again, and now here he was, caught off guard and utterly useless in the moment he’d dreamed of for weeks.

her voice cut through his spiraling thoughts. “well, say something, damn it!” she huffed, nudging him hard enough in the shoulder to make him sway.

he exhaled slowly, the tension in his shoulders easing as the reality of her words sank in. His lips twitched into a small, almost disbelieving smile. “you’re right,” he admitted softly. “something has changed.”

her breath hitched slightly, her expression a mixture of hope and uncertainty. “and?”

“and… merlin’s beard, i’m terrible at this,” he muttered under his breath, running a hand through his face in frustration. he took a deep breath, forcing himself to meet her gaze, even though it felt like his heart was doing somersaults in his chest.

“i do like you,” he admitted finally, his voice quieter now, more vulnerable. “i like you more than i can even put into words. that’s probably why i've been such a wreck lately. i kept telling myself i’d tell you eventually, but every time i got close, i just panic and ruin it.” he gestured vaguely at the space—or lack thereof—between them. “and now… now you’ve gone and done it for me.”

a smile twitched at her lips, though she tried to suppress it. “so, what you’re saying is, this is my fault?”

“well, if you’d just waited a little longer—”

“oh, shut it, sebastian,” she interrupted, rolling her eyes but stepping closer nonetheless. “i don’t think either of us would’ve survived waiting any longer.”

“still,” he said, his tone softening, “you deserved something better than my stammering and sweating and… all this.”

“i don’t need much,” she said, her voice gentler now, her gaze softening. “i just need you. preferably not running from me next time, though.”

"yes, well," sebastian let out a shaky breath, his lips quirking into the faintest of smiles. “i think i’m done running.”

and for the first time in what felt like forever, his infamous brashness finally roared back to life. without overthinking it, without letting his nerves take hold, he lunged forward. his hands found her face, warm and soft beneath his fingers, and he kissed her. the book on his lap tumbled to the floor with a dull thud, but he didn’t care. it was clumsy, a little too eager, but he didn't care. he didn't care because he was kissing her.

the world tilted, narrowed, and then disappeared altogether. there was only the gentle press of her lips against his, the faint intake of her breath, and the way her hands instinctively gripped the front of his robes to steady herself. it was messy, impulsive, and absolutely him—no, them.

when the kiss broke only slightly, her breathless giggle sent a pleasant shiver down his spine. she leaned just far enough back to meet his gaze, her eyes dancing with amusement. “i suppose this makes us friends again?”

sebastian groaned, resting his forehead against hers. “please, gods, no,” he muttered against her lips, his voice dripping with mock horror.

her laughter bubbled up, light and free, and she tilted her head slightly, her smile almost mischievous. “what, you don’t want to be my friend, sebastian?”

“not even a little,” he said, grinning despite himself. his thumb brushed over the curve of her jaw, his gaze flickering between her lips and her eyes. “no, i’d much rather be whatever this is.”

her grin softened into something more tender, her hands sliding from his robes to rest lightly against his chest. “i think i’d rather like that too,” she admitted softly.

sebastian chuckled, a deep, relieved sound, and leaned in again, pressing his lips to hers once more. this time, it was slower, deliberate, like he was memorizing every second. then again, and again, each kiss growing lazier, sweeter, as if he had all the time in the world to be here, with her, like this.

between the kisses, he muttered softly, his voice thick with emotion. “thank you…” a kiss. “thank you…” another kiss. “for being braver than me.”

#hogwarts legacy #sebastian sallow #hogwarts legacy fanfiction #sebastian sallow fanfiction #sebastian sallow fluff #sebastian sallow x mc #sebastian sallow x you #sebastian sallow x reader #sebastian sallow headcanons #sebastian sallow fanfic #hogwarts legacy fanfic #pining #hlhp #soft sebastian sallow #sebastian sallow oneshot #hogwarts legacy oneshot

301 notes · View notes

s0urw00lf · 10 months ago

Text

I don’t wanna live forever

Part two

Pairing: Dean Winchester x reader

Summary: Y/n is having a hard time coming to terms with her feelings for the guy she’s supposed to feel nothing more than a friendship with, so instead of confronting those feelings she runs away, which proves to be a mistake for her and him.

Warning: angst, heartbreak, fluff, sad angry Dean because he’s a warning in itself

An: this is my first Dean Winchester fic so i hope it lives up to your expectations. Also this is gonna be a two part series because i got carried away with setting up the plot for this. If you like this flick and the way i write i am taking requests for Sam, dean and cas so feel free to make some. Anywho love ya and i hope you enjoy.

Dean Winchester is the epitome of a girls dream guy. He’s smart, tall, and strong. Not to mention those pretty green eyes that scream ‘walking sex god’ or that cheeky ass smirk he wears when he knows he’s got a girl in his clutch. But thats not what made you fall for him, not the only reason at least. Dean Winchester has been your best friend since you both could walk. Being left to take care of Sammy while your mom and john were out hunting all through your childhood up really sealed your fate, you saw all of his most vulnerable moments and you knew those moments he needed you to break down those walls so he wouldn’t self destruct. But also you saw how much he loved, and how he fought for the people he loved, but he wouldn’t let anyone give that back to him. And thats why you loved him. Because you knew that just like him you’d do anything for him at any moments notice. You’d kill, you’d torture , you’d die If he needed.

So as you sat at a bar sipping on your martini watching dean flirt with the pretty curly headed bartender with a short skirt, your heart felt heavy within your chest and your stomach completely empty despite the large bowl of fries you were sharing with Sam. The feelings that surged through your body weren’t anger, or hatred. It was sadness and longing, knowing that even though you loved everything about that man, even though you knew him better than anyone else. Better than himself. He’d wouldn’t see you how you saw him, and no matter how much you hated it, you couldn’t hate him. Not one bit.

“Y’know if you sulk any harder people are gonna mistake you for a grounded teenager” an amused voice spoke from beside you. Your gaze broke from dean and turned to his brother, “shut up Sam” you said nudging his shoulder softly. A smile crossed the younger winchesters face, “he’s just looking for a distraction” he muttered to you, diverting his gaze over to his brother letting a frown overtake his features. Sam knew how utterly in love you and his brother were with each other, i mean anyone could see it. Except for some reason you two.

“Yeah well sleeping with a random person isn’t exactly what id call ‘a distraction’” you said bitterly, immediately feeling bad even though dean was nowhere around to hear. Sam shook his head at just how blind you were, “ i just don’t understand why he wont open up to us.” You said trying to keep your voice steady, stirring your drink around with your straw “He knows that we know how much loosing john is affecting him. Hell he’s not the only one fucking dealing. We all lost” she said trying not to let the tears forming in her eyes fall. Sam sighed “thats just how he is. It’s how he’s always been. The strong one” he said looking at his friend solemnly.

“Well it’s bullshit and he knows it” you said slamming your hands down on the table as you stood up. “Im going back to the motel” you muttered grabbing you coat from the back of your chair and trying to keep your tears at bay. Sam grabbed your wrist stopping you. “You want me to walk you?” He offered softly. “No it’s fine, i’m fine. I just need some time alone if thats okay” you said. Sam nodded letting go of your wrist, you gave him a hug and a kiss on the forehead, a habit you’d formed when he was only two years old. And with that you exited the bar, not sparing a look in deans direction. You couldn’t stomach it. What you missed was the longing and worried look dean sent you as he weakly excused himself, and made his way over to Sam and began his interrogation.

While you walked your brain was racked with all of these intense emotions. But the most prominent thought was how much it was killing you. Given you’d known that Dean wasn’t the relationship type, i mean the ratio of his hookups to relationships says enough in itself. But you’d grown up together, you knew how much dean craved to be held and loved by a woman, and you were hoping by chance he’d let it be you. But as the months turned into years and years turned into a decade, you were tired. Tired of loving someone who only thought of you as a friend. Tired of loving someone who would shamelessly flirt with other women in front of you, no matter how deeply in love you showed him you were.

By time you reached the motel you’d had your mind made up, you’d apologize to the boys later but you had to go. And you knew that if you told them in person Sam’s puppy dog eyes that always worked and deans broken expression would’ve coaxed you back in. So there you are packing your bags (not that you had much to pack) and hopping into a car you’d managed to break into and Hotwire and began your way to Bobby’s.

When you arrived at Bobby’s he was shocked to see you but ultimately let you in. “Y’look like shit” he greeted looking you up in down taking in your puffy eyes. You laughed “good to see you too”. Bobby looked behind you, curiosity etched into his face “where are the other two idjits?” He asked. Your once happy expression dropped, replaced by a guilty look and you avoided his eyes as best you could. Bobby took a step forward, now concerned “peanut where are the boys” he asked a little more demanding this time. Tears pooled your eyes for what felt like the 100th time that day. “I- i left them in Wyoming” your voice broke as tears began to cascade down your face. “I didn’t tell them, they would’ve convinced me not to go” you explained. Bobby stared at the girl not sure what to do about the girl he saw as a daughter crying so freely in front of him. “Why’d ya leave? Somethin’ happen?” He asked leading you to the couch and taking a seat himself.

You shook your head “no… no nothing happened. I just couldn’t watch it anymore.” You muttered playing with your fingers in your lap trying to put your feelings into words. Bobby watched intently, and he swore he could almost see the cloud of thoughts above your head. It took about five seconds for it to click. Dean. “S’this ‘bout dean?” He leaned forward. You hesitated, finally looking up to meet them and eyes before you nodded. “It was okay before, i mean I’ve had feelings for him since we were 14 so i learned to tune it out mostly. But as we get older its just go hard, i mean I’m 26 now and I’ve seen him during relationships and hookups and its not effected me until now.” You explained, Bobby didn’t say anything, knowing that if he said the wrong thing you’d probably run up to your designated room and act like the conversation never happened.

“i think because i realized just how far id go for him, and with the way things are heating up that flame seems to grow more and more every hunt. But he doesn’t see it, he doesn’t see the raw and utter devotion i hold for him. He doesn’t see how i run off every guy because i know they wont be like him. He doesn’t see how much it hurts me to see him happy with someone else, even if it’s just for a night. And it hurts Bobby, it hurts like hell to love someone who only sees you as his best friend that much” you finished. By that point the tears were streaming down your face and he could hear the heartbreak in your voice. Bobby stood up trying to keep his own tears at bay as he watched the young girl break down in front of him, he grabbed you by your wrist pulling you into a bone crushing hug as you sobbed into his shirt. The two of you stood like that until your sobs subsided, leaving you with sniffles every few seconds.

Bobby pulled away and grabbed your face “you are a smart, strong, beautiful young lady. And after all you’ve been through you deserve all the love in the world, and if dean can’t see that then he’s more of an idjit than i thought” he joked. A small laugh passed your lips and suddenly the need for sleep hit you like a ton of bricks. Bobby seemed to take notice because he sent you on your way upstairs to your room and you made no effort to fight sleep any longer.

just downstairs Bobby pulled out his phone that saw tht he had 14 missed callers from Sam and 27 from dean. He calculated how angry you’d be at him for making the decision he was about to but he’d deal with your anger over heartbreak any day. So he pressed the call back button and listened to the dial tone until deans voice replaced the noise

“Is she with you” he asked urgently, Bobby noted the sound of deans engine in the background as well as Sam asking if it was Bobby that called.

“Yeah she’s here, and you’d better have a damn good excuse for her showing up the way she did” Bobby said in an authoritative tone.

“I’m not 100% sure but i have a theory” dean replied with a distracted tone. “I don’t care what you do or don’t have. You get here and you fix it you understand boy?” “Yes sir” dean answered. Bobby then hung up, dean knew he was in deep shit if he couldn’t make things right with you

#dean winchester x you #supernatural dean #dean winchester x reader #dean x reader #dean winchester #dean winchester spn #spn dean #sam winchester x you #sam winchester x reader #bobby singer #supernatural #supernatural fluff #s0urw00lf

253 notes · View notes

nathaslosthershit · 2 years ago

Text

Off in His Own Little World

Pairing: Jack Hughes x Reader

Summary: When two people love each other very much…

Warnings: Talk of baby makin’ and the beginnings of it

A/N: This was originally a Quinn fic but I just realized I already have a Quinn fic about him getting baby fever and his brothers being annoying so I had to change most of it to fit Jack instead.

Jack had taken his girlfriend to his parents house for the holidays. He knew one of his cousins had recently had a baby, what he hadn’t expected was for the baby to be so adorable, for the infant to get so attached to his partner of two years, and for it to mess with his head so much. Seeing her with the baby had changed him. All he could think about now was her with a baby, with his baby.

It had begun to piss her off. Jack was in his own little world so much of the time and he refused to acknowledge the difference in his attitude or explain himself. After a full day of socializing, she was tired and just wanted her boyfriend to stop staring off into the distance.

“Okay what the fuck is wrong with you?”

“I’m sorry?” Her harsh words immediately took him out of his daydream. One with her on a boat, at the lake house, with a sleeping baby in her arms. It was his new favorite thing to imagine. He almost went back into his hazy state but was interrupted again by her agitated voice.

“You have been somewhere else for the past three days, Jack! It has been so hard having to do all the socializing because you have been practically catatonic. What is going on? Where are you going?”

She began to get more desperate the longer he stayed silent till he let out a quiet, “I want one.”

“You want what, Jack?”

“A baby”

“...I don’t know what you expect me to do about that”

“I can think of a few things…” “Jack, we are 22 and unmarried. I think the media would lose their mind if you got me pregnant. I mean seriously, they would think you are irresponsible or that I baby trapped you. People are going to start questioning if your priorities are with the team or your family and frankly-” He cuts her off with a kiss. A passionate one. One she knows is just to distract her. One that will definitely lead Jack to getting what he wants if she doesn’t stop it first.

“Jack, I am serious. Why all of a sudden?”

“It's not all of a sudden! I have wanted this for a while. I just- I didn’t know if I wanted to hear what you would say. Yes, I know we are young. Yes, some fans would get mad but fuck them. People will always be mad no matter what I do and there will always be reasons not to do it.”

Now it was her turn to stay silent.

“...do you really want one?”

“More than anything.”

“...Okay”

“Okay? That's it? I mean if you don’t want one then thats not-”

“I want a baby. I want a baby with you. And if you are ready, really ready, then why not.” He kisses her again. Even harder than the first time, if that is even possible.

In what feels like seconds they are on the bed, her hands in his hair as he starts to kiss her lips, her neck, then her stomach. He takes her pants off and goes to kiss her thighs right before he hears someone yelling out-

“Jack! Come on man, Quinn, Dad, and I are gonna play pool and we need another person for pairs. Come down!” Luke screams. This stops Jack for a few seconds before he moves up to kiss you again.

“Jack, he won’t sto-”

“He will if we ignore him.”

“Jack! Get off her and let’s go” His brother yells once more. This, momentarily, stops Jack’s assault on your lips.

“I really do not like him right now.” She says.

“I never do.” He is getting desperate at this point. After years of his brothers ruining shit for him, this is the one moment he begs some higher power to give him peace.

She finally pushes him off her neck to make eye contact.

“Honey, he won’t stop.”

“He will. He has to. And I’m trying to get you pregnant so can you please be quiet and let me work.”

Luckily, Luke seemed to have given up after screaming a few more times. He was pissed at Jack in the morning for ignoring him, but the flustered look on your two faces at breakfast stopped him from bringing it up. And a month later when he found out he was going to be an uncle, he had already forgotten about the whole thing.

Jack didn't. He was still mad.

#jack hughes x reader #nhl imagine #jack hughes imagine

717 notes · View notes

inlovewithquestionablecharacters · 10 months ago

Note

Hey,

could you write a one-shot,where Hannibal is obssesively in love with Bedelia‘s best friend, after he met her during his therapy session, when she tried to surprise Bedelia fir a „girl‘s night only“. Bedelia tries to distract him from her and wants to reduce his obsession unsuccessfully.(smut?)

Hannibal X Reader: Unexpected infatuation

Warnings: smut, kissing, drinking, female reader, no use of y/n penetration ( p in v), cowgirl, not proofread

Word count: 2,4 K

“Lia?”

Your voice rang out through the house. You waited patiently for an answer expecting Bedelia soothing voice to cut through the silence. It didn’t. You wrangled your key out of the door, throwing it on top of the dining table. You placed the bottle of wine you’d brought on the kitchen aisle before making your way deeper into the house.

“Lia, are you there?”

You glanced up the stairs trying to listen to Bedelias footsteps but there was nothing. A small noise came from your left causing your head to turn towards it. Your eyes fell on the door of Bedelias therapy office.

“Found you.”

You walked over to the door not bothering to knock. There was no way someone was in there with her, she’d stopped working ages ago.

“Lia, I've been calling you. I was gonna surprise you….”

Your words trailed off when you caught sight of a man sitting before Bedilia. Your best friend stared at you for a moment before turning to face Hannibal.

“Sorry. This is my best friend. She has a key to the house. For emergencies.”

Bedilia gave you a pointed look as she finished talking, her eyes telling you were in a bit of trouble.

“I didn’t realize you had company. I’ll just leave.”

“No it’s alright. I’ve taken up enough of Bedelias time.”

You gazed at the man before you. You didn’t know who he was but something about him felt oddly familiar like you’d seen him before. You watched him get up from his chair and collect his suit jacket. He turned to look at Bedelia giving her a small nod of farewell before beginning to walk to the door. You stepped aside allowing him to move through the door. Before he continued to leave he turned to face you, putting his hand out. You gave him your hand expecting him to shake it. Instead he leaned down and placed a small kiss to the back of your hand.

“Nice meeting you.”

You were at a slight loss for words managing only to blush and nod at his statement. He smiled at your frazzled state. He always did love to leave people speechless. Bedilia appeared behind you, her eyes boring into Hannibal's frame. He felt the weight of her gaze, taking it as a sign that he should get going. So that's what he did, he put his suit jacket on and walked to the front door, closing it behind him as he left.

“Who was that?”

Bedilia could hear the fascination in your voice. It worried her. She knew how charming Hannibal could be but she also knew how dangerous he was. You were a very dear friend and she would do what she could to protect you.

“That was Hannibal Lector.”

Bedilia turned to look at you, catching onto the way your eyes lingered on where Hannibal had previously stood.

“Stay away from him.”

Before you could question her she’d walked past you, making her way to the kitchen. She opened the bottle of wine you’d brought and took a swing, not bothering to grab a glass. You could tell the conversation was over and you knew better than to push the topic.

For the next few weeks Bedilia continued to live her life like normal. She’d get her things done, she’d got out with you and once a week she would meet Hannibal for his therapy sessions. For the most part things seemed okay. But then Hannibal started talking about you in therapy. He didn’t say anything alarming, he simply wanted to know more about your friendship with Bedilia. Little things like how you’d met, how long you’d known each other, what you liked, among other things. If it had been anyone else asking these things Bedilia wouldn’t have been alarmed but this was Hannibal Lector and that itself put her on edge.

“The two of you seem quite different.”

“We are.”

“You act as if she is not interesting.”

“She isn’t. She is just like many other people.”

“And yet somewhere she’s drawn your attention.”

“We are not here to talk about me. We are here to talk about you.”

Whenever Hannibal initiated these types of conversation Bedilia tried to lead him down another path, trying to remove the attention from you. She kept her answers short and with little information, painting a picture of you that wasn’t appealing to Hannibal. But none of it seemed to help. When Hannibal wanted something he found a way to get it. Even if it meant someone got hurt. Bedilia had done a good job keeping you away from Hannibal but there was only so much she could do to keep Hannibal away from you. She had no control over the Doctor and she knew it.

In a couple of days she was going to travel for a convention and needed someone to stay at her house to make sure everything was in order. You’d volunteered of course, that was just the way you were. Bedilia didn’t think anything could possibly go wrong.

She had been mistaken.

You were stringing a pot of sauce when the doorbell rang. You gazed at the clock, taking in the time. It was awfully late for someone to be at the door. You placed the spoon down, cleaning your hands on your apron before walking to the door. You peaked through the magic eye, eyes widening as you saw who was at the door.

Hannibal watched the door open a bit, your head poking out from inside. He was surprised to see you. You gave him a small smile, opening the door all the way. He took in the sight of you, eyes catching to the stained apron you wore. The smell of food filled his nose, telling him you had been cooking.

“Hi Hannibal. What brings you here?”

“I have my appointment with Bedilia tonight.”

“Oh she must have forgotten to tell you. She’s traveling for a convention. She’s only gonna be back next week.”

“I see. It must have slipped her mind to tell me.”

He gazed at you for a moment.

“What are you doing here?”

“House sitting.”

“ I wasn’t aware Bedilia had pets.”

“Oh she doesn't. She just hates leaving the house empty. I’m not sure why but whenever she tables somewhere I stay at the house. I think she’s scared someone is gonna break in or something.”

You gave a small shrug.

“It's not like I'm complaining though. I love staying here.”

“Well I'll leave you to it then. Sorry for bothering you.”

You watched Hannibal turn around and begin walking down the steps. You bite into your lip, Bedelias words of warning appearing in your head. You shook your thoughts away. He had come all this way the least you could do was offer him something to eat. What could go wrong?

“Hannibal wait!”

He spun around at the sound of your voice, turning to face you.

“Yes?”

“I’m making dinner. Would you like to stay and eat something?”

The grin that spread out over Hannibal's face could almost be considered as predatory but you didn’t seem to notice it. He walked into the house moving towards the kitchen. You closed the front door behind you, moving to where Hannibal was. He took his suit jacket off and pushed his sleeves up. You looked at him questioningly.

“How can I help?”

“You cook?”

Hannibal laughed at your question. If only you knew.

“I enjoy it quite a lot actually.”

“Well, aren't you full of surprises?”

You gave him a grin, pointing at the onions on the counter.

“You can chop those up for me.”

The rest of the night you and Hannibal moved around the kitchen. Each one helping the other with what you could. When the food was ready you went to set the table. Hannibal brought the food over and both of you took a seat. You chatted as you ate, talking about the most random things. Hannibal learned things about you that Bedilia had refused to tell him and you discovered a side of Hannibal Bedelia had made sure to hide from you.

After you’d finished eating the two of you moved to clean up duty. You would wash the plates and Hannibal would dry them and place them in their proper places. With your guidance of course, seeing as he had no idea where anything went. Once everything we squeaky clean you moved over to the drink cabinet, pulling out a bottle and holding it up to Hannibal.

“You want some.”

“I shouldn't, I'm going to drive home.”

“Like hell you are. It’s so late Hannibal there is no way I'm letting you drive home now. You can sleep in the guest room.”

“Where will you sleep then?”

“Oh I can crash in Bedelias bed. She won’t mind.”

“Well if you’re sure.”

“I am. Grab two glasses from the top cabinet for me please.”

It felt easy to be around Hannibal. You didn’t know what Bedilia had been so afraid of. The two of you were sitting on the couch, each one nursing your own glass of alcohol. Alcohol has always made you a bit sleepy. Unconsciously you inched closer to Hannibal, resting your head on his shoulder. He moved his arm to wrap around your shoulder, tugging you closer to him. You let out a satisfied hum, relaxing into Hannibal's frame.

You hadn't really been paying attention to the movie that was playing. It wasn’t until your brain realized the sounds that were coming from the TV that you began paying attention to what was on the screen. Hannibal felt your body tense slightly against him. He had been so focused on your proximity to him and your smell that he hadn't heard the sounds that were coming out of the TV. A blush made its way onto your face as you watched the sex scene play. The sounds were almost pornographic and the sight of the actors wasn’t helping. You should probably move away from Hannibal but you couldn’t seem to want to. Your thighs rubbed against each other. Hannibal caught onto the action, his hand moving to caress your shoulder. You turned to look at him, your eyes meeting his lustful gaze. You didn’t know if it was the fact that you were a bit drunk or if it had to do with the forbidden element but before you knew it you were leaning forward to place a kiss to Hannibal's lips.

Hannibal's hands moved to cup your cheek, his tongue dragging against your bottom lip. You opened your lips to him, allowing his tongue to explore your mouth. You dragged your body closer to his until you were sitting in his lap. Hannibal moved to kiss your neck, causing you to let out small whines. You dragged your body against Hannibal's thighs, humping into him. He caught onto the action, his hands moving to grip onto your waist.

“You’re gonna hump my let until you cum and then i’m gonna fuck you. Okay?”

“Yes- ugh- fuck yes.”

You began to move against Hannibal, desperately searching for your release. Hannibal's hands moved to pull your shirt off your body. The sight of your bare chest made his dick watch. Of course you hadn’t been wearing a bra, you hadn't been expecting company. His large hands moved to cup your breasts, fingers moving to pinch your nipples. Your mouth opened into a moan, the sound bleeding into the moans that continued to come from the TV. Hannibal leaned down, taking one of your breasts in his mouth as his hand moved to caress the other. The attention Hannibal was giving to your breasts combined with the feeling of his pants roughly moving against your covered cunt got you cumming in a matter of seconds. You continued to hum against his leg as your orgasm washed over you.

Hannibal let your body sag onto him, his hands wainding to caress your back. You struggled to catch your breath. Hannibal continued to place small kisses to your neck as you recovered. Once your vision cleared you pushed yourself up so that you could look in Hannibal's eyes. You smiled at him, leaning forward to kiss him. Hannibal watched you rise from your feet, tugging off your shorts and underwear in a single movement. His eyes trailed over your body.

“You’re awfully dressed up. I think we should shed some of those layers off, no?”

Hannibal nodded to you, moving to stand up as well.

“You want my help?”

As much as he wanted your hands on him he didn’t know how much he could last without having his dick shoved into you. So instead of accepting your help he stripped his clothes off by himself. With every new piece of skin that was exposed you felt yourself grow wetter. Your breath caught in your throat as Hannibal finally tugged off his boxer, revealing his dick to you. He was slender so you’d expected his dick to be the same. Boy had you been wrong. He was a lot thicker than you’d thought.

You rubbed your thighs in anticipation. Hannibal sat back down, his finger moving to beacon you over. You did as he asked, moving towards him before straddling him. You kept your body lifted slightly in an attempt to tease him but Hannibal wasn’t having it. His hands moved to grab your waist tugging you down onto his dick with one quick movement. The two of you moaned at the feeling. You placed your hands on Hannibal's knees before you began to move against him. He watched you fuck yourself onto his dick. The sounds you were making sent a thrill down Hannibal's spine. He watched you, his hips moving to buck into you.

Your thighs were starting to hurt but you wouldn’t stop moving until you’d cum on Hannibal's dick. Hannibal seemed to notice your struggle, his hands moving to help you out. You gasped as Hannibal guided you to a faster pace. You leaned forward, hands winding around his neck. Hannibal took the new position as an opportunity to speed up. You groaned against his neck as he began to buck into you, his hips pistoling into you. His hands found your breasts, moving to pinch and pull your nipples. That was enough to push you over the hedge. Your nails dug into his back as you gushed onto his dick. Hannibal felt your cum against his thighs, his own release overwhelming him. His hands tugged you as close as possible as his cum coated your walls.

You stayed in that position for a moment, both of you trying to recover from your highs. Hannibal placed a kiss to the side of your head.

“Sleep with me in the guest room.”

“Okay.”

Bedelia would freak out when she found out but that was a problem for another day.

#smut #smut fanfiction #smut tag #hannibal fanfiction #hannibal lecter #hannibal #hannibal tv show #nbc hannibal #mads mikkelsen smut #mads mikkleson #hannibal x you #hannibal x reader #mads x reader #mads mikkelsen #mads mikkelsen x reader

201 notes · View notes

paulyenvol6 · 5 months ago

Text

Bound by Flame (Chapter 15)

Contains: smut, fingering (f receiving), p in v, unprotected sex, dubcon, possessiveness, edging, overstimulating, biting, bruising, gagging, dirty talk, degrading, mentions of words like slut and whore, jealousy, dom!Daemon, incest

Wordcount: ~4.24k

Masterlist of this story

Lord Jakor led Maera on the dance floor and just like she had done before with Daemon she let him put his hand on her waist.

Of course she preferred to feel her husband's hand but she didn't mind Jakor. He was a kind man and his eyes didn't have this maliciousness inside of them that she had seen in Cylvin's. And as Maera now found out, Lord Jakor was a fantastic dancer. He twirled her around so quickly that she let out a gasp but broke out in laughter shortly after.

"Too fast for you, princess?" he smiled but she shook her head.

"No no, my lord. I just wasn't expecting it."

The two of them moved to the music for another two songs until Maera wiped the sweat off her forehead and greedily inhaled for air.

"I think I need a break, my lord."

"Of course, princess. As you wish."

With these words he bowed deeply but her attention was suddenly drawn somewhere else. It was Daemon who just made his way through the crowd and he didn't look amused. Maera straightened up and breathed in a couple of times. He wouldn't be angry, she would just explain to him what happened. The girl knew very well about her husband's jealousy that even faded into possessiveness at times but this was a different case.

She looked at him as sweetly and adoringly as she could and reached out for his hand once he stood in front of her.

"How was it, my love?" she asked and he raised his eyebrows.

"Good."

She sensed that he was a little sulky so Maera thought it was best to distract her husband from his anger and instead continued to ask him about his friend.

"What did you talk about?"

"His life. My life."

She toyed with his fingers and lovingly ran her thumb over the back of his hand.

"Well, it seems like there wasn't a lot to talk about," she smiled but Daemon's face tensed.

"You're honestly surprised that I'm not in the mood to tell you about our conversation? After I've come back to find you dancing with another man? After I've told you not to do anything stupid."

She sighed and rested her hand on the side of his face.

"Daemon, we were only dancing. I love you and you only. I'm not interested in being close to anyone who's not you."

"Then why did you dance with him?" he hissed but then leaned down to kiss her forehead. This gesture made his niece smile because it hinted at the fact that he wasn't as angry with her as she had feared.

"He asked me and I didn't want to refuse after he saved me from Ser Cylvin Lannister. He was bothering me and I wanted to flee from the conversation with him which Lord Jakor noticed and so he stepped in."

"Cylvin Lannister?" Daemon spitted.

"Yes. He wouldn't leave me alone."

The rogue prince blared his teeth and threatingly looked around in the room.

"Where is he?"

But Maera, who most definitely didn't wish for any escalation tonight quickly grabbed his arm.

"It's fine, uncle. Really. Perhaps he has even left the feast already."

Daemon mumbled something she couldn't understand but seemed to let it go because his eyes wandered to Maera again. He chewed on his lips as if he intended to say something but changed his mind and just searchingly watched her.

"Should we go back to the table?" Maera asked after a while but Daemon didn't even twitch.

"Please, Daemon. You really are dramatising this."

Faster than she had been able to foresee it, his hand grabbed the side of her neck and he threatingly stroke her thin skin.

"Careful. You're forgetting yourself."

He lightly squeezed her throat but not so much that she was unable to speak.

"I'm sorry," she whispered and looked up to him under her lashes.

Daemon was satisfied with her answer and his hand wandered up to her cheek to soothingly caress her.

"Come," he then said shortly and started to make his way back to the table while pulling Maera with him.

Once Viserys spotted the couple she could see a crease between his eyes but she didn't have any time to think about it because she was already gently pushed to her chair which she took her seat on.

Daemon sat down as well and immediately poured some wine in his cup. And then after he had taken a sip he rested his hand on Maera's thigh; a possessive and owning gesture. He wanted to let everyone know that his niece wasn't their's to look at. She had always been his and just the thought of some lord lusting after his girl during the years of his exile when he hadn't been in king's landing to look after her made the blood in his veins boil. He would get her with child again, Daemon thought. So everyone would see that she was his alone and that they weren't to even think about her.

His hand on her thigh tightened and he knew that his nails digging in her flesh must hurt her but she didn't let anything show. Then his other hand took hold of her chin and he softly but firmly turned her head towards him.

"Look at me," he whispered and the image of Maera's big eyes made his cock swell. "You're mine."

She nodded, just a very slight and yet conscious movement.

"Yes. I'm yours."

In this moment he wished for nothing more than to be buried inside of her warm and inviting cunt and to pound into her until she was a whimpering mess underneath him. Make her eyes roll back, leave bite marks on her neck and feel her soft breasts in his hands. Toy with her nipples until they were hard.

Daemon dropped his hand from her cheek and the hand on her thigh left her body as well. Maera couldn't hide her displeasure and disappointingly waited for an explanation from her husband. But he just stared at the feast below with narrowed eyes while crossing his arms in front of him.

"What is it, uncle?" she asked but he fully ignored her which was why Maera sank back in her chair sulking for he didn't give her any further attention.

Viserys had only caught half of what was going on between his brother and daughter but now observed them with a furrowed brow. Neither Daemon nor Maera noticed him though so both just kept their eyes to the scene before their eyes until the rogue prince tilted his head to glare at his niece.

"We'll go back to our chambers now."

Maera wasn't thrilled and frowned at him.

"Can't we stay a little longer? I wanted to talk to my brother again."

"I said now," Daemon said quietly.

She exhaled loudly but obeyed and stood up abruptly. Swiftly the girl approached her father and kissed his cheek.

"Goodnight, father."

Viserys clearly was overwhelmed with all of the things happening around him but he had no choice but to nod and dismiss her. Then Daemon got off his chair as well and bowed his head.

"Goodnight, your grace."

3 minutes later the couple entered their chambers. They had only exchanged a few words during their short walk but now that they had their privacy again Daemon sighed deeply and took off his coat.

"Draining," he just spoke while Maera took out her earrings.

"What is?"

Her uncle scoffed and then sank down on a chair as if he had never been more exhausted.

"All of it. These false courtesies and everyone being nice to each other although they secretly hate each other."

Maera didn't answer him and instead concentrated on undoing her hairstyle. But then Daemon's voice cut through the air and she stopped in her motion.

"Come here."

She turned around and saw her husband with a challenging look on his face. Maera followed his order and walked towards him, not sure what he wanted of her.

"On my lap," he gave further instructions and she pulled up her dress and then let herself down the wrong way around on his thighs.

Daemon immediately pulled her closer by gripping her arse and shoving her until she was above his cock. She gasped out and grabbed his shoulders to steady herself.

"Someone's being a little jumpy, mhm?" he chuckled and then pushed the hem of her dress up until he had access to what he had been looking for. Her smallcloth still covered his absolute favourite part of her body but the picture of her parted thighs alone made him sigh in satisfaction and he felt his cock twitch.

Maera apprehensively watched her uncle who took his time in observing her but then his hand wandered between her legs and light as a feather he brushed over her slit with his pointer finger. He was so teasingly and slow that Maera could already sense in what direction this was heading so she closed her eyes and surpressed a moan.

"Please… No teasing," she pleaded and Daemon sarcastically lifted his eyebrows.

"Oh so you think you deserve to just come immediately? You think you don't deserve a bit of suffering?"

"I do," she whined because he had started to rub her pearl very lightly. It was torture because while she loved the attention on her throbbing bundle of nerves it only increased her desire and Daemon wasn't eager to fulfill her wish yet.

"But please just… Please don't tease me."

His finger flicked her pearl and Maera whimpered quietly. She needed him to properly stimulate her nub, seven hells. This was tormenting, she thought and wished she could close her legs just to get rid of some of the tension in her lower belly. But then just as she was about to complain again his thumb pressed into her pearl and he started to circle it with so much intensity that she choked on her breathing.

"Fuck," Maera pressed and her head dropped to her uncle's shoulder.

But Daemon let out a disapproving sigh and yanked her head back by grabbing a fistful of her hair.

"You will look at me, little one. You will look into my eyes when you come. Well… if you'll come."

He was evil, she declared in her head. But she loved it at the same time. His fingers were so skilled that she already after merely a couple of minutes felt like she wouldn't be able to even stand on her own. Let alone bring out a coherent sentence. He now used two of his fingers to rub her pearl and now and then enclosed it to gently squeeze it. To be able to smoothly caress her he collected her wetness that leaked from her hole and spread it all over her cunt.

His focus was her pearl for now because that was the quickest way to bring her close to her release and that was what he aimed for right now. Daemon knew her body so well; every twitch and shiver and moan was familiar and he knew exactly what to do, where to intensify the pressure and what patterns she preferred when he rubbed her nub. Soon Maera felt the tension in her thighs contradict but just when she expected the pleasure to roll over her and she was already relieved that he would let her finish Daemon stopped and his niece cried out.

"No, please. Please let me come."

She had grabbed the fabric of his shirt and pulled at it in order to bend him to her will. Little did she know that her uncle was evil-minded tonight.

"Oh sweet girl," he purred wrongly and caressed her cheek. "You will come when I allow it. And I'm not yet sure if I will allow it."

With these words he suddenly picked her up and carried her to the bed as if she weighed nothing. Daemon carefully threw her onto the bed well aware that she was already too weak to properly catch herself. She was sprawled out on the bed for him, her dress pulled up and her eyes fluttering. Daemon inspected her smugly and then climbed on the bed to hover over her.

"Open your eyes. I want you to look at me."

His gaze was so heated and full of lust, he was like a predator looking at his prey. Once she had obeyed him Daemon's hand parted her thighs and he continued his torture. He circled and rubbed, flicked and pulled at her pearl, sometimes quick, sometimes slow, at times with so much pressure that she jumped and other times so lightly and carefully that she wasn't even sure if it was his hand or a blow of the wind.

The tension was heavily hanging in the air and Maera had the indescripable urge to stretch her limbs. The only sound was her loud and hectic panting as well as the sound of the slickness between her legs.

Daemon's left hand that wasn't occupied with her cunt had pulled down her dress a little so he could see more of her skin. Her left breast was slightly exposed so his hand had started to trail patterns on the swell of her breast that felt like fire to Maera. It didn't take him long until he sensed that she was close again. It was the way her eyelids fluttered, her whines became more frequent and her back arched. He just stopped his touch before she could release and his niece cried out again, close to tears now.

"Please, Daemon, please… Please I just want to…"

He was utterly cold to her begging and wrongly cooed her when he noticed the wetness in her eyes.

"Oh babygirl… There's no need to cry. Am I not taking such good care of your little cunt? She likes it so much, doesn't she?"

She was shaking but managed to nod.

"Y-Yes… but please…"

Her uncle cut her off by leaning down and kissing her trembling lips. In the meantime his hand came back to her pearl once more and he continued his evil play. Her moans and whimpers were smothered by his mouth but her hands clutched tightly at his muscular arms.

Daemon had obviously grown more eager and desireful as well so he finally managed to undress her so that her breasts and nipples were bare on display for him and he trailed his finger over her small chest. Additionally to the stimulation between her legs Daemon now also toyed with her nipples and Maera felt like exploding every second. He couldn't do it again, he couldn't deny her again. Despite feeling so powerless a voice in her head foresaw what might happen now and forced her to open her mouth.

"P-Please uncle…," she breathed quietly.

Daemon kissed her neck which left red marks while slowing his movement down until he eventually stopped and Maera was yet another orgasm denied. Now there were actually tears spilling from the corner of her eyes and she uncontrollably sobbed beneath him. He acted all pitiful but she knew better than to misinterpret it as that. He was the one making her feel that way after all and when Daemon leaned down to steal another kiss she tilted her head so that his lips landed on her cheek. Additionally a complaining sound escaped her mouth but then he forcefully turned her head to his liking by gripping her chin. He eventually got what he liked and savoured the taste of her pink lips while touching her all over her chest and collarbone.

Meanwhile Maera continued to pull at his shirt and pushed at his arms which Daemon ignored at first but then he growled dangerously and took both her wrists in one of his big hands and pinned them down above her head. She squirmed and shifted and lifted her hips to get closer to him and perhaps release herself of the tightness in her core but Daemon just firmly pressed her down.

"Mhmm," she mumbled against his mouth, clearly an attempt to ask him for more. That made him stop and he broke away from her lips. Instead he now traced her swollen lips with his thumb and watched her smugly.

"Aren't you such a little whore between the sheets? You know that this is not the kind of behaviour fit for a noblewoman. You're supposed to take what I give you, look pretty and keep your little mouth shut. Instead here you are whining and begging and asking me for more."

He shoved two of his fingers inside of her mouth and Maera moaned in surprise.

"You're a slut. A dirty pathetic slut who's so fucking eager to get her holes stuffed. It's embarrassing."

He pushed his fingers deeper until he hit the back of her throat and his niece choked.

"Yes, that's right. Do you wanna cry for me? Feel free to." He fucked her mouth with his fingers and made sure to keep her on the edge by brushing over her pearl every now and then. All of her senses were so overstimulated that she soon actually started to cry again but Daemon just kissed her tears away.

"You look so fucking pretty for me like this," he groaned in her ear while Maera struggled to take his fingers that continuously pushed deep inside of her mouth making her gag.

After a few more minutes he removed them again and she hiccuped a few times which made him smirk. Her face was red and sweat covered her forehead and the crying had made her eyes swollen. Now his finger left her nub as well and Maera looked up to him with submissive eyes. She couldn't even bring herself to beg him again because what good would it do? He wanted to make her suffer and no pleas of words out of her mouth would change his mind.

She almost didn't realized what he was doing at first but then she saw how Daemon removed his pants and breeches and his cock stood hard against his stomach. There was precum leaking from its tip which he collected with his hand and brought it to Maera's mouth. Obediently she licked his hand clean and Daemon contendly grinned. But then his hand suddenly reached out to the back of her head and he yanked her back so her neck was exposed.

"You want your cunt to get fucked?" he hissed and with the space he granted her, she nodded. "Want me to spread you open, mhm?"

Maera let out a yearning whine and then he actually brought his tip to her cunt. He pressed it against her throbbing and pulsating pearl which almost made her cry out but then he was fast to circle her entrance and then entered her.

These first few seconds were perhaps his favourite moment when he was fucking his wife, apart from releasing inside of her of course. When he felt the tightness of her cunt and the way her walls pulsated around him; when he stretched her open and Maera's eyes were big as coins. He panted heavily and then without giving her a second to adjust he started to pound into her. She would be able to take it, Daemon was certain. He didn't want to hurt her too much but it would be good for her to feel a little bit of uncomfortability. He cupped her breast with his right hand while his left held the side of her face.

"Taking me so well, babygirl… S'that want you want, mhm? Getting your slutty hole fucked like a common whore?"

She whined and threw her head to the side but Daemon wanted to hear her voice so he tilted her head. "Say it."

"Y-Yes… I want it, oh fuck…," Maera cried.

"Oh yeah I see how you enjoy it. Just like you enjoyed Lord Jakor's attention, didn't you, wife?"

She couldn't bring herself to answer him despite figuring that his anger about the situation at the feast would only reduce her chances of finishing.

"Did you enjoy his attention? Do you like it when men look at you like that? Is my admiration alone not enough for you, little niece?"

Maera bit her lip and wrapped her arms around his back bringing him closer to her.

"I-It is enough, D-Daemon… I-I only want your attention…," she managed to tell him eventually.

"Is that so?" he growled against her cheek and then his mouth wandered south to press kisses to her chin and neck. Well, at first they had only been kisses but soon he sucked on the soft and delicate skin of her neck in order to bruise and mark her. At times he used his teeth as well and bit her softly. Firm enough so she would have bite marks but not so much that she was in real pain.

"I'm gonna let them see," he growled while delivering sharp thrusts into her core.

"Gonna let them see that you're mine. If it's not enough I'm gonna fill you again with my see and make you all swollen with my child. Maybe that way the whole court, all those lords who lust after you will see who owns you, whose baby you're carrying and who fucks your pretty little cunt every night. I'm gonna show them that you're mine. My niece, my wife and mother of my children. And my little fuck toy to dump my seed into."

Maera felt her eyes rolling back at his words and gasped when his teeth dug into her flesh once more. The sting brought tears to her eyes but it was the good kind of pain, the kind that made her long for more. She was still craving a release though and just wished that her uncle would finally set an end to her suffering but he was busy fucking into her and marking her neck.

"Please, uncle," Maera pressed and her shivering hands gripped the sheets next to her.

"You wanna come?" he whispered and she was almost too scared that he would deny her her release again to answer him.

But then suddenly she felt his finger on her pearl again and the feeling was so intense that she thought she was going to come right on the spot. His deep and forceful thrusts in combination with the pleasure her bundle of nerves was receiving drove her closer and closer to the edge and Maera clung to the sheets as though her life was depending on it.

Soon Daemon noticed how close his niece was but this time to her suprise he didn't stop and the waves of pleasure washed over her. It was even more powerful because she hadn't expected it. Maera had assumed that he would stop once more and tease and edge her until she would pass out and so when the tension in her belly exploded she let out a surprised cry and arched her back. Her whole body was shaking and Maera helplessly searched for Daemon's body to hold on to him.

He didn't stop his thrusts into her cunt and neither did his hand leave her pearl. That was why once she had come down from her high her body twitched under his movement and it felt uncomfortable. She was overstimulated and now she squirmed to get away from him rather than seeking for more. Daemon noticed her attempts and laughed about it.

"Someone's getting a little overwhelmed, isn't that right?"

She looked at him with big eyes that started to fill with tears again.

"Does it hurt?"

She nodded and sniffed but Daemon didn't stop. He just continued what he was doing until eventually her cunt seemed to have recovered slightly and she found his touch welcoming again. That was only until he made her come a second time, this time by flicking and enclosing her pearl with his fingers. Maera moaned loudly and when he still kept up his assault on her center she threw her head to the side and pushed against his chest.

"Please stop… Please it hurts so badly, Daemon."

He pursed his lips and stroke her hair.

"Shhh babygirl… You can take it. I know you can."

She desperately shifted her hips and tried to close her legs around his hand. No, she couldn't. She couldn't take it, it was too much. Her body was on fire only that this time it was in a negative way. His fingers made her uncontrollably tremble and her core was so swollen and overstimulated that she already knew she wouldn't be able to walk after this. His thrusts were simply too forceful and rough.

"Stop, uncle. Please… It's too much, I can't…," she pleaded and Daemon bit her neck painfully before bringing his face to her level again and grabbing her chin.

"Shut your mouth. You will take it because I want you to. Here you were begging me to let you come the past 30 minutes and now I let you and you're still not satisfied. Don't give me those tears now. I won't stop until I'm content and I'm not sure how long that will be. And if you don't want to lose your voice you better shut your mouth and be glad that I haven't stuffed your dirty mouth with my cock."

~~~~~~~~~~

Taglist:

@smashee0789 @classicsimpforaaronwarner @hangmanscoming @ninihrtss @coffeebooksrain18 @aleemendoza2425-blog @chiminies-noona

70 notes · View notes

handsome-wise-strong · 1 year ago

Note

Jacelaena headcanons please ❤

This is a million years late, I’m so sorry! But ask and you shall (eventually) receive!

Helaena is a head taller than Jace. As children, Jace always hoped he would grow taller than her, but as an adult? He’s obsessed with their height difference. He loves when her chin dips and her eyes lower to meet his as he beams up at her, just absolutely stunned by the tall goddess. Even better when she dips down for a kiss, and his neck cranes up to meet her.

Jace brings Helaena out of her shell. She is always quicker to laugh when he is around. She is more likely to enjoy a dance, if Jace is her partner. He makes her more adventurous and more free. Meanwhile Helaena calms Jace, softening his heart and cooling his temper. They better each other!

Helaena rarely calls him by his name. She instead uses a flare of dramatic titles for him. Valiant prince and dragon-heart being among her favorites. Jace wishes he had the nerve to call her pretty names, like flower or darling, but he simply can’t call her anything but Hel, in the softest and fondest voice in the world.

Jace always shows off at tourneys, but especially if Helaena is in attendance. He asks for her favor without fail, and she never denies him. If he wins, he is sure to crown her the queen of love and beauty.

Jacaerys is a man of honor. He desires nothing more than to wed Helaena and rule alongside her. But because of his code of honor, he feels a deep need to have a good relationship with her family. He craves their approval of the match, even if Helaena insists it doesn’t matter. He tries everything in his power to get Alicent to like him or at least respect him. He knows that Helaena’s brothers are pretty much a lost cause, especially Aemond, but he never gives up on trying to win Alicent’s favor, even after he and Helaena marry.

Both Helaena and Jace struggle with High Valyrian. It is a point of bonding for them, both being slow learners of the language. They help each other and study together often, finding lessons more bearable if they’re working together.

After they wed, they both decide they want many children. Jace hopes for them to look like Hel, with her soft round face and wavy silver hair, but Hel hopes for the opposite, wishing for them to have their father’s dark unruly curls and warm brown eyes.

Jacaerys prefers dressing lavishly, while Helaena likes to keep her outfits simple. Jace often wears full Targaryen regalia, his tunics and cloaks made of fine silk or velvet, with the added addition of many silver and gold accents such as rings and brooches. Helaena prefers comfortable and light dresses, usually in pale pinks, blues and yellows.

Jace has always been uncomfortable around insects, but in an attempt to bond with Helaena, he tries to loosen up and relax around them. This backfires often, when he confidently picks up an unfamiliar insect to show off to her, and is bitten immediately. She appreciates the effort nonetheless, and explains to him how to properly handle insects as a maester tends to his bug bites.

Jace is fascinated by her dragon dreams. He writes down every riddle she says, often reading them over and over to try to unravel the words to find their true meaning. He is always careful to never push her on explaining them, knowing it’s best to leave her be and distract her with something else once she’s done speaking of them.

They both think they’re not good enough to be with the other. They’re always trying to better themselves for one another. Always trying to be someone worthy of ruling with the other, and loving the other. It takes a long time for them to realize the other feels the same way they do, and they have a long talk, reassuring each other that they’re both good enough. When they both realize they love each other unconditionally, just as they are, their union becomes stronger and more devoted than ever.

And lastly, Jacaerys and Helaena have a long, happy, peaceful and prosperous reign together. They live long lives and are surrounded by loved ones when they pass away, and countless poems and songs live on, telling the tale of the dragon king and the gentle queen, and the remarkable and deep love they had for one another.

#jacelaena #jacelaena headcanons #jace/helaena #jace x helaena #hotd #anon #they are very special to me

169 notes · View notes

sparks-and-smoke · 4 months ago

Text

Ch 2: Unknown Faces

Pairing: Steve Rogers x Reader (refered to as Petal) Word Count: 1962 Summary: After your run in at the measum the two of you start having, instering, dreams. This is a soulmate AU, just so we are all aware. Warnings/tropes: smut, oral (male receiving), grief, loss, angsts, mental health, conspiracy theories, stalking if you squint. Submissive Steve which is a TW all to himself. Soulmate AU. A/N: Welcome to the first smut I have every publicly wrote. Beta read by the ever lovely @voice-of-velhart

Previous Chapter Next Chapter

It was the hottest day of that summer. With little to no breeze to move the air in Steve and Petal’s little apartment despite having damn near every window open. Steve sat in their bed with his sketch pad in his lap, trying to capture the pigeons that sat on the roof of the building across the alley. He really needed to work on adding motion in his drawings so drawing birds in flight seemed like a good way to spend his time.

Petal lay across the foot of the bed. Trying to read the novel Honey lent her, but kept sighing from the heat, such a dramatic little thing. Neither one of them was wearing much of anything, petal in just a slip and Steve in an undershirt and boxers. It was too damn hot to wear anything else. And every time Petal would sigh and roll to try and get comfortable her slip would ride up. It was the most distracting thing in the damn world.

“Hey Pet. Can you stop? You’re driving me up the wall babydoll.” He smirked watching her wiggle again.

“It’s hot and the damn electric fan isn’t helping.” she said with a pout. She didn’t have any makeup on. And her smooth delicate skin was glistening in the heat in a way that made Steve’s skin feel too tight. He shifted uncomfortably, adjusting the book in his lap.

“I wish I could fix the weather for you, Pet. Believe me I’m not exactly having a gas over here.”

A few moments pass in comfortable silence, Petal trying to concentrate on her damn book but it just wasn’t doing it for her. She glanced over at Steve. His brows knit together in concentration as he glanced back up at the birds. He really was beautiful, the light from the window bathed him in golden glow, highlighting the sharp angles and lithe musculature of his body. He reminded her of Puck, or some other form of eternally youthful fae creature. Built to tempt her with his wiry frame and beautiful eyes. And she couldn’t help it, her man was too pretty. She needed to touch him.

Setting her book down she crawled up the bed. Her hand sliding up his legs. “Stevie, I am dreadfully bored…”

Steve bit his lip and tried to focus on getting his shading right, “I’m sorry Pet.” he said off handedly. Only to hear her sigh, then the gentle press of lips to his hip bone. And a soft hand pushing up his shirt. The pad of her fingers tracing along the lithe lines of his frame. “Petal…” he warned, with no real heat behind the words.

“Steven...” she mocks, her voice quiet and airy as her mouth followed her hands. Up, up. Peppering kisses over his rib cage, tongue flickering to the spaces between where she could feel his breath mounting. He sighed through his nose, eyes falling shut as she claimed his full attention.

“How am I ever supposed to get things done with you around?” Steven’s hand slipped into her curls, grateful for a lack of pins and ribbons as he tugged her head back, looking down into her eyes glittering mischievously. She took her bottom lip between her teeth, the pink cushion of her mouth growing red under the bite and he groaned. Tugging her up to taste that lip himself.

'Your gonna be my ruin.”

Petal hummed sliding down along his jaw, lips finding his pulse and sucking on it, “Oh hush… You know that’s not true.”

Steve stared up at the ceiling as if it may give him an ounce of willpower. He found none, instead he found his hands sliding under the nylon of her slip. His breath shuttered as he felt all that soft perfect skin under his palms.

Most days he still couldn’t believe that she was his. That he was the man that had the privilege of holding her hand and keeping her warm at night. Let alone be the person that gets to sink into her body, his name tumbling from her lips when she finds the pleasure she so desperately deserves. Surely letting this goddess house the other half of his soul had been a comic mistake, but far be it from him to bring it to anyone's attention. He was too selfish, too greedy to keep her right here with him.

“Hmm, no definitely ruin…” he whispers, pulling her slip up over her hips, his hands kneading at the supple flesh he finds with every inch. “I never said I wouldn't accept it..’

She smiles, humming in appreciation as he gives in despite the heat, despite being busy. He is always weak to her advances, pretty putty in her hands.

“Good boy,” she whispers and pushes him down. Hands tugging at his shirt to get it off, sliding between his legs to pull off his boxers that are doing nothing to hide how much he loves her attention. “Always so eager, my sweet perfect man…”

He preens under the praise, trying not to squirm when her breath ghosts over his cock. Steve knows he is none of those things save for eager. But being under her hands, her breath on his skin and sweet voice in his ears it’s the closest he has ever felt to perfection. He can deny her nothing. “Pet.. babydoll I..”

“Is it too warm cause I can-”

“No.” he bucks his hips. “No please.”

He hears her giggle and he can’t help the flush when it twitches, petal kissing at his head. “Yeah I thought so.”

Steve can hear the grin in her voice as she kisses at the base of him, sending electricity down his thighs. He’s never been good at holding still. Not even when told to, and with her mouth so close to him, his body already pent up in the summer air he can’t help the groan and roll of his hips as she plays with him. She grins, a rush of power rolling through her. He always makes her feel this way. Like she is offering him everything and he can barely stand it. Because he can’t.

“You keep moving like that and I'm gonna have to hold you down. Maybe I'll just sit on you and make you ask for it politely.” she threatens, a flat warm tongue darting pout to lick a hot stripe up the bottom of his length.

He pants, hands twisting into the sheets as she teases him. Face twisting in frustration as he wills his lips not to moan, his voice not to beg. “Whatever you want, Pet.”

“Look at you trying so hard.” she grabs his base giving him a slow stroke, precum pooling on her thumb as she drags it over his tip. Looking up at him through heavy lashes as she sucks the shining slick off her thumb with a hum. Steve’s stomach does a flip, as the air is pushed from his lungs. And he stifles a whimper with a bobbing throat. He knows she can tell how bad he wants this. Needs it now that it's been offered. And he will appease his gorgeous girl however she wants to get her to continue. To bring him the bliss he knows that sugar coated mouth is offering.

“Tell me what you want, baby.”

Steve sucks air through his teeth, one slender hand flying into the silken strains of her hair wrapping the locks around his fingers as words tumble forth. “I want that luscious mouth on my cock Petal, please. I need that soft heat on me baby. You always look so good down there. You make me feel so good, Pet…”

She smiled, eyes sparkling with delight. “Well since you asked so sweetly…” Her mouth sunk onto him and the sigh of relief he made had her humming as she relaxed her throat and pushed him deeper.

“Oh f-fuck Pet..” he gasped as his hips itched to move. But her soft persistent hands held him in place. Her tongue swirling around his tip as she pulled off, only to suck him back in with hollow cheeks. “Oh baby.. Yes yes please just like that.”

Her hands wandered. Pulled him closer to him as his back arched. Flat palms sliding over his hips and spine to hold him close to her. He really was so pretty. Graceful in a way she has never seen in a bigger man, and she loves him. Loves the way he can’t hold still, can't stay quiet, his deep voice telling her how much he loves this. Loves her, with every stroke of her mouth. Every hum of approval from her vibrates through him and takes him higher.

She got lost in it, holding her lover to her as she pulled him into her till her nose brushed the bronze curls at his base, “Pet… Petal I’m gonna, baby p-please. I’m gonna. I’m gonna, can I…”

~~~~

You opened your eyes with a groan, pulling the covers over your head as you woke up before your alarm yet again. This was the third time this week. And just when your dream was getting good.

You don’t know when you started dreaming about that man. The one with the soft sky blue eyes and crooked smile. You’ve never seen that face before, at least not to your knowledge but it haunted your dreams as of late. You have read somewhere that the mind can’t make up faces on its own. That is why you alway dream about people you know, or celebrities and public figures. Even the unknown faces you see in your dreams are people you’ve rode the train with or passed by at a supermarket. So you must have seen your mystery man at least once in passing but you swear you would have remembered eyes like that. A voice that is deep and smooth…

You groan in frustration as your thighs tingle again. The pressure in your gut surmounting in an uncomfortable feeling you were going to need to fix before going to work. With a sigh you roll over and rifle through your bedside table. Finding your favorite toy and turning it on before closing your eyes and letting yourself finish that little scene.

~~~~

Steve almost threw his alarm across the god damn room. A frustrated snarl ripping out of his chest. Painfully hard with an ache in his bones that bordered on pain he pressed his palms to his eyes. Hot wet tears leaked out beneath his hands and into his hairline as he forced out a shaky breath. He couldnt keep living like this, couldn’t function knowing she was in this fucking city and not their beside him. Warming his bed and breathing his air.

In the privacy of the darkness he let a sob slip. Racking through his chest with a violent shake. He needed her back. His body ached to hold his girl, his soul rebelled at the absence of her. His heart had felt like it was beating against the confines of his body every second since he had left the museum yesterday. Like it could somehow by sheer force make him go and find her. As if he was staying away on purpose.

He could never. And knowing she was so close yet so, so far away made him want to burn down everything in his path till he figured out what had caused this and how to fix it.

He pushed open his half of their bond. The highway that connected him to his Petal, trying yet again to let her hear him. I miss you, I need you, I can't do this alone. He launched the plea down the empty connection like it may do some good but he knew it was in vain. There was nothing on the other end. Or at least nothing that was open to him anyway. Like the door was locked and barred just to leave him isolated on the other side.

If he could he would slam his hands against that parabolic door, pound against it until his hands bled. Make her feel him. Call out to her, beg her to find him. Plead and grovel. But that was not an option at the moment, and even if it was it would scare her. And that is the one thing Steve, even in his desperation, couldn’t bring himself to do. Scare his girl? He’d rather die.

He took a few breaths, willing himself to pull himself together. Shoving his body up out of bed. He already had the beginnings of a strategy forming on how he was going to tackle this challenge. He found you once, made you love him once, he could do it again. But he needed some information first, and for that he was gonna need help. He was going to need to call in a favor from the only person he knew and (semi) trusted that could get him what he needed.

He was going to need to meet up with Natasha Romanoff.

Tag List: @disneyprincessbuffyannesummers, @delilah-hey @tldrthor

You Left comments so you get tagged <3

#steve rogers #ce characters #avengers #steve rogers x reader #marvel #steve rogers x plus size reader #steve rogers x you #female reader #fate stone au

32 notes · View notes

catboymettaton · 2 months ago

Text

so baby pull me closer

rated M - 1k words - Sachiko/L

in which Sachiko has an affair with her son's teacher

for @dnrarepairweek day 4: temptation

read on ao3 or below:

Sachiko knows, in the back of her mind, that she should probably stop this. She’s perfectly happy with Soichiro. He’s a lovely, honest man who’s a strong role model for their son. He’s very polite and has a strong sense of justice.

But that strong sense of justice keeps him working late nights, and he spends all his energy smiling at dinner, and then when it’s time for bed he’s too tired to do anything but just slip under the covers.

She’s glad he’s helping keep Tokyo safe. But she’s only human, and humans are animals, and her animal body has needs and complains when they aren’t fulfilled. She can only take so many mid afternoon sessions of rocking about on her fingers.

And so she keeps coming back to see Ryuzaki, again and again.

It started as an honest conversation about Light’s grades. Nothing more. Her son was the best, as usual, sure to go on to do great things and make his family proud. That was that, and there was no reason to discuss the matter further.

And yet somehow they found more to discuss, circling around the teacher’s desk with its neat stacks of papers and bright red apple. She learned that Ryuzaki was fairly new to Tokyo, having only moved to the area five years ago, and that he was single despite his smooth, silky voice and charming smile.

He called her a week later. There was something he’d forgotten to mention, he explained. Something important that he needed to show her.

And that something was his lips and his hands and a dark corner tucked behind a maple tree.

They’ve never mentioned her son since.

He’s younger than her by around ten years and it shows in his stamina and his agility. His best record is giving her five orgasms in two hours, and he’d barely even come up for breath.

He likes being put in his place. Too much energy spent telling students what to do all day; he prefers to let someone else take charge for once. And she is quite happy to oblige; Soichiro had never been interested in such things and she had never known how to ask.

He has a very nice car. She doesn’t know how he affords that on a teacher’s salary, but that doesn’t matter. The important part is that it has soft, cushy seats and dark windows that are hard to see into at night.

Their first night together, she’d laid back and begun to study the ceiling, taking note of how the shapes fit together, before she was abruptly distracted by his hands slipping up under her shirt and his teeth meeting her neck.

Soichiro never bites. Soichiro is a proper, sophisticated man who treats her gently. And she appreciates his caution, appreciates the way he’s careful not to push her past her limits. But he never asks her where the limits are, and his guesses are always conservative.

Ryuzaki pushes. He’s hurt her before, not on purpose, but when he opened his mouth to apologize she sealed it with a kiss instead. How is she supposed to know how much her body can take, after all, if she never tests it?

The car makes her nervous. She’s always afraid of someone stumbling across them, someone who knows Soichiro and can tell him exactly where she’s been on all the nights she’s invented a book club, or a quilting circle, or another suitable housewife hobby.

And yet the danger makes it all the more exciting.

Tonight, it’s Ryuzaki on his back and Sachiko perched above him, back rounded within the confines of the car. She’s teasing the head of his cock with her fingertips. He’s circumcised, unlike her husband, and the exotic nakedness of his shaft excites her.

He whimpers below her, so soft and vulnerable. He likes to give up his body to her, to let her take control. She likes the rush of power in knowing that she can bend him to her will. She presses her mouth to his and he kisses back hungrily and desperately.

She runs a hand under his shirt to grasp his nipple. They keep their clothes on most of the way, which means less skin contact but an easier getaway if need be.

She likes knowing that they might have to run if they’re spotted.

Sometimes she wonders what Soichiro would do if he knew. Would he be angry with her? Would he walk away? Would he bow his head and accept that it was his fault for getting so busy, for leaving her alone so often?

Sometimes she wonders if his late nights are not just at his office.

She lowers herself onto Ryuzaki’s cock, all twitching and pulsing with anticipation. She rocks back and forth, deliciously full of his girth.

He is actually a bit smaller than Soichiro, but she doesn’t mind. It sounds cliche, but size isn’t everything. And besides, she likes the variety.

Sometimes he likes to be told that he’s naughty. That he’s bad, for tempting her here. He never points out that she’s the one who keeps coming. He lets her blame it all on him and his youthful good looks and smooth, silky voice.

Sometimes he likes to tell her how beautiful she is, how much he loves her body even with its marks of age and pregnancy. He likes her stretch marks and her cellulite, he likes the way her breasts sag beneath her shirt.

They went to a love hotel, once, and saw each other properly naked. She drank in his lean, strong form, mostly smooth but for a few scars around his limbs. He explained the stories of some of them – scrapes from falling off his bike, burns from distracted cooking, scratches from his cat. It was odd to hear about his life outside of here, outside of this secret they shared.

She liked getting to see him in the soft, romantic lights. But she also likes seeing him in the dim street lamps, occasionally lit up by a passing car. It feels better that way. It feels better to make it covert.

Their affair is like film that’s still developing. If it leaves the darkroom too fast, it’ll get all damaged and faded.

It’s temporary, she reminds herself. It can’t go on forever. Someone will see them, or she’ll mix up her stories, and it’ll all come crumbling down like a house of cards.

So she has to savor it while she lasts. She has to make the most of these trysts.

She rides on his cock and revels in his deep, delicious moans.

#lchiko #l/sachiko #sachiko/l #l lawliet #sachiko yagami #death note #death note fic #dnrarepairweek25 #mine #my writing

22 notes · View notes

gyuaesp · 1 year ago

Text

i’ll always look out for you.

pairing: bf!mingyu x gf!reader

wc: 1,026

genres: romance (finally), angst, established relationship, reader is celebrating birthday, not extremely proofread, mingyu helping you through your emotions.

warnings: mentions of family issues (not in full detail), reader has a breakdown.

a/n: okkkk so this is like finally a writing that doesn’t include sad, heartbreaking, gut wrenching love… this one is a bit longer than my usual writes but i hope i did well on this one huhu :’))

it was your birthday. the day you (kind of) dreaded but was looking forward to.

instead of rotting inside your bedroom with an ice cream cake and a glass of champagne, you’ve decided that this year you’re going to be spending it with the people you love most. ever since you (finally) made it official with mingyu, you suddenly had a new perspective on life.

you didn’t care about the wrinkles, nor the gray hairs that might appear once in a while. getting old is a natural human phenomenon, it happens to everyone.

you invited a couple people over, not wanting it to be something huge and awkward. of course mingyu was the first one to arrive, helping you put up decorations with small kisses every minute or so.

he was a bit hypnotized by the outfit you were wearing. small apologies come out of his mouth every time you catch him staring like a creep, but what’s not to love about that? you have this man wrapped around your finger. the kim mingyu can’t help but drool at your beauty.

your friends came later than expected. a decent guest list consisting of joshua, seungkwan, chan, and soonyoung. you were distracted with karaoke while mingyu stayed back preparing your cake. he took glances at you singing duets with the others, chuckling softly at your performance.

you got quite tired out, trailing off into the cupboard for a water break. the glass in your hand getting set down on the island as you stood next to mingyu. “what’re you doing?”

he exhaled, wiping his hands on a kitchen towel. “just taking out the cake,” he spoke, giving you a peck on the cheek as his arm wrapped around your waist. “it looks okay, right?” mingyu’s eyes peeked back at the baked good hoping to hear a positive response.

“it looks perfect, baby. what do you mean!” you looked up at him with a reassuring smile. mingyu couldn’t help but give you his fanged grin at your reaction.

as his lips were leaning in for a connection, you heard a series of knocks on your apartment door. mingyu’s gaze moved to the entrance with slight confusion. “did you invite someone else?”

you scanned the living room, counting out the correct number of guests. “i don’t think so,” your voice replied. “i’ll be back.”

“careful,” he called out as you left for the door.

cautiously, you walk towards the threshold.“who’s there?” you speak out of the small opening you made.

suddenly, your breath hitched at the realization.

it was your mother. the woman you purposely took out of your life for making you feel miserable at home. the real reason why you moved out and decided to make yourself a new beginning.

“there’s my pretty lady!” she pushed the door open, dropping her bag and putting her hands on your shoulders.

you could see through her fake persona. the memories you thought you had gotten rid of crashing back into your mind like a tsunami. how the feel of her presence in the room made you tense up. the stench of her perfume bringing back the pain you supposedly healed from.

you could hear the others whispering as seungkwan paused the music. sound waves slowly becoming muffled as mingyu quickly went up to see the situation.

you could see his mouth moving as he spoke with your mother, but you couldn’t hear anything. a wave of emotions enter your body as you speed walk to your bedroom, unable to face her for any longer without breaking down.

it feels like you were brought back to square one.

your optimism fading off as you curled up in your closet. the place where you shed all your tears in the past. the enclosed room making you feel at peace once again as your heart tried to calm itself down.

your hands, feeling your pulse and constantly massaging your neck. small hyperventilations coming out your mouth as you looked around, listing out things in your closet to not freak out.

you could hear the incomprehensible noise of mingyu trying to talk things out with your mother monster from outside.

well, that was until he burst into your room when everything quieted down.

mingyu slowly peeked inside after a couple minutes of searching.

“____?” he calls out quietly, seeing your face buried in your knees. the sound of your sobs being the only thing audible in the area.

he moved towards you, kneeling in front of you. “baby, look at me,” his hand patted your knee. your gaze went to his, eyes glossy with tears. small sniffs coming out as your breathing slowed down at the sight of mingyu. “come on, don’t cry. you know i hate seeing you like this.”

you moved into a proper sitting position to get some fresh air. he patted his lap for you to lay your head, allowing you to rest a bit. both of you sat in silence as he gently dried your face with his shirt, now stained with tears but he didn’t care. “stop your tears. i took care of it, alright? don’t be sad over a small inconvenience.”

you sniffed a bit, gathering your words before speaking. “i don’t understand why she had to ruin my day like this.”

“she didn’t ruin it,” mingyu quickly replied. “you just think that because you’re afraid, honey.” he set a soft kiss on your forehead before his fingers started to massage your temples.

“listen to me,” his hands cupped your cheeks. “she might’ve done things to you in the past, but you will grow. you’ll grow to become the woman your mother couldn’t.”

“i can’t even look at her without freezing up, mingyu-”

“just trust me,” his words cut you off. “i’ve seen what you’ve achieved in life and i believe you can do this too.”

you two sat in silence as you savored his words. “i hate how you always give the best advice.”

“that’s why i’m perfect for you, hun.” mingyu gives you a gentle kiss, taking away the rest of your sadness.

“now go blow your nose. let’s celebrate what’s really important.”

#gyuaesp #mingyu ff #mingyu x reader #mingyu x you #svt x reader #svt #seventeen #svt fluff #svt imagines #mingyu #mingyu angst #angst #family issues #lovers #writing #my writing #love

226 notes · View notes

maxillness · 6 months ago

Text

🇬🇧 || My Love || JH20 x gf!reader

Warnings: 18+, unprotected sex, pwp

Wordcount: 0.6k

Request: Just want to throw this out there, sex with James where he's smoking his cigarette while fucking the reader and the ashes fall and burn a bit, not enough to leave a mark but I love the idea of this man going at it so hard the ashes of his cigarette burn you and him just stopping for a bit to check your alright ugh, just him making sure your all good before going right back at it cigarette between his fingers. Ugh British man 🤤 - ❤️

It was rare that it happened, but when he did fuck her while he smoked, it was fucking hot

She settled in James’ lap, just as he was about to lit his cigarette

“No, no. Keep going” She mumbled, her lips already on his jaw

He chuckled slightly as her hands went into his hair, but he continued lighting the cigarette anyways

“I want you to fuck me” She almost begged, her hands going from his hair to the belt in his jeans

“Sure, let me just-“ He went to light out the cigarette, but she grabbed his wrist before he could reach the tray

“Please” She whispered low, looking him deep into his eyes- the eyes she fell in love with

“Love… It’s gonna burn you” He sighed, knowing it usually did

“My love- please” He sighed defeated

“Lay on your back” He rested the lit cig between his lips as she moved to lay on the couch, his hand undoing his belt, getting on his knees between her now naked legs

By the time he had pushed all the way into her, her legs around his hips, the cig had lit out

James knew she wanted him to fuck her while he smoked, so he wasted no time lighting another while he let her get adjusted to him

He started pounding into her with a rapid speed as soon as he had gotten the cigarette lit and had taken a drag

The speed of his body movements had resulted in ashes falling onto her naked body

He brushed it off of her at first, but when she hissed between her moans, he stopped

“My love-“ “Keep going, please” She whined, trying to move her hips against his

“It burns you, love” He said, but she wanted him to keep going

“Please, James- keep going, I’m begging you” She begged him to keep going, and even though he hesitated, he kept going, wanting to please her

He kept slowing down to check if she was still okay and not hurt, but she kept telling him to go faster again, pounding into her like nothing else mattered

As James felt himself get close to his orgasm, as well as her, he leaned over, putting out the cigarette, his fingers circling her clit instead

It took no time for her to be fuming after that, her nails digging into his forearms, his name loud off of her tongue

Just as he had rode out her orgasm, he came inside her, making her whimper at the sound of his own soft moans

He fell softly onto of her, tracing small spots on her chest where there were residue from the ashes

“I don’t want to do this again. It hurts you, my love” He pouted slightly, his head on her chest

“I barely feel it, James” She smiled softly, caressing his back with her hands, kissing the top of his head

“You promise?” His eyes were soft as he looked up at her

“Mhm. The feeling of your cock is way too distracting to feel anything else” She chuckled, watching as he smiled proudly of himself

#formula one #smut #james hunt #James hunt smut #James hunt x reader #James hunt x reader smut

40 notes · View notes

outerbankies · 2 years ago

Note

so I'll watch your life in pictures like I used to watch you sleep, and I'll watch you forget me like I used to feel you breathe..." for the prompts

new light: last kiss

new light masterlist a/n: thank you for sending this in!! the 2k prompt celly slooowly trucks along. this takes place in part 9 of the og series!

When Rafe told Topper that Ward had called him home, he should’ve expected this exact scenario.

And yet, it’s still somehow a surprise when Topper and Kelce pull up to Tannyhill on Friday evening, mere hours since Rafe even pulled in himself. It was an exhausting drive home, and an even more exhausting talking-to from his father afterward. Add onto that that he hadn’t been sleeping much at all in the past week, and Rafe felt like half-dead climbing into Topper’s Jeep.

“Lodge?” Topper had asked.

Rafe had shrugged, looking away with intention before he could see the look his friends exchanged between themselves. But the view out the window was no better when Topper drove right by your house.

You were everywhere here.

Rafe knew coming home would be taxing. But it was like he could feel you in the stubborn humidity still hanging around in October almost as clearly as he had felt you in California only a week ago. In June, you’d insisted on leaving a window open to sleep because you missed the sound of cicadas in the summer, and Rafe would wake up sweating buckets to find you sleeping peacefully to his side, bodies pressed so closely together he could feel your chest moving when you breathed.

And it was he could hear your laughter in the sound of the ocean waves crashing on his drive right by the water, all the way out to Figure 8. The salt in the air, the chaotic noises of the marina.

After a few drinks, Rafe figures he’ll probably be able to see your outline walking through town.

Topper’s whistle is shrill in his ear, and Rafe really needs to do a better job pretending he’s alright if he’s going to make it through this weekend without spilling anything.

“Dude. What’s with you?” Rafe is asked. Even Kelce, never not known to fill an awkward silence, is looking at him silently from across the table.

“Nothing,” Rafe decides sipping down the rest of his IPA until its foam. Wordless eye contact with Charlie at the bar, and another one’s coming.

“Old man give it to you pretty good today?” Kelce asks.

“Kinda,” Rafe answers. He can’t really remember at this point. It was a lot of the same; a lot about you. His distraction, his hindrance. His everything.

“Alright then. So… shots?” Topper asks hesitantly. Rafe shrugs, his go-to for the night he supposes, and Kelce nods emphatically; Topper’s taking that as good enough, venturing to the bar. Rafe watches him try and fail to cut through a pack of tourists with no luck. Tourists, at Rafe’s dingy bar on The Cut, this late in the season.

“Rafe.” Kelce says, and it sounds like it might have been the third or fourth try.

“Sorry, dude,” Rafe replies. “You know, I think I’m going home after this round. I’m exhausted—been driving all fuckin’ day.”

“No, no worries,” Kelce says. “I was just asking if you saw McCall’s story the other night.”

Rafe sees Kelce’s phone in his hand and averts his eyes as quickly as he can, squandering the urge to start choking on his spit by loudly clearing his throat. He trains his focus on his empty pint instead, dragging the glass and its condensation back and forth across the table, wondering when his new one—or better yet, that round of shots—will materialize. “No. I haven’t. You follow McCall?”

“Yeah, she’s hot. And shit was so funny, dude. Y/n/n was hammered last night,” Kelce laughs.

Rafe should’ve know that’s where this was heading—why else would Kelce bring that up. But he’s 15 again. Then 19, 20 and 21, too. All those ages in between. He’s every age he ever was before he finally got you to fall in love with him, dreading the moment Kelce inevitably brought up your name.

Things were a little different this time. Rafe’s not an embarrassed and lovesick teenager willing his blush to creep back down his neck. He supposes he’s more of a man now, jaded and stuck walking around his hometown like an open wound, while you’re out with your friends. But he guesses he is, too.

He should be happy, shouldn’t he? That you seem to be having fun? He’d ended it. You’d agreed. Even though he could tell you didn’t want to, you had. In way, you’d let him go, too. You’d made a choice just like he had, and maybe it wasn’t getting you down as much as it was him. He’d broken your heart, and you’d deleted your photos together and went out drinking with your friends.

God, where are those shots?

“I didn’t even know Y/n still drank like that,” Kelce continues. “Not without you around anyway. I’m talking senior ditch day levels of shitfaced, if you remember that.”

You blacked out on Kildare’s senior ditch day, Rafe remembers it well. Because he’d been the designated driver for Matteo’s party, which meant he was the one who had to then decide which friend was sober enough to watch the rest of your friends while he got you out of there, safely out of that house and into your own, all without losing it on whatever guy from the lacrosse team had got you that way and whatever friend of Rafe’s hadn’t been watching it closely enough. Rafe had been the one to hand you off to your younger brother, praying to god Dylan wouldn’t tell and make Rafe complicit in your parents’ future disdain. And he’d been the one to receive an embarrassed text from you the next day. And he’d been the one who didn’t care, just glad you were okay. That Rafe could never fathom sharing a first kiss with you, but the last one would make a lot more sense to him.

“Yeah, well. Not really my problem anymore,” he snaps, before he can decide to do otherwise, residual anger from that day toppling over the mess of emotions he already was.

Kelce rolls his eyes. “Please. You were making her your problem before she ever even was. And I’ll drink to that, actually—I wonder where those shots—”

“I broke up with her.”

Kelce cracks a grin, letting out a surprised laugh. A few seconds go by, and the grin falls. “I know you’re not joking about that, Rafe.”

A sad country songs takes over on the speakers, and Rafe hides his face in his hands, unable to bear the look on Kelce’s face when it finally dawns on him. It was hard enough around the only others who knew, and Rafe would honestly prefer his roommates in Georgia were still as oblivious as Kelce had been a few seconds ago, and as Topper still is at the bar right now. He’d tried to keep it that way, for a while at least, but it didn’t take long after Graham picked him up from the airport for his best friend to figure it out.

Graham must have passed it on to Sawyer and Cody soon after, because he didn’t get a second of normalcy before the kid gloves came out. Those guys didn’t even know you, hadn’t even seen Rafe around you save for grainy FaceTimes over the summer, the ones Rafe had cut off in favor of giving you his undivided attention. He can’t believe he was even nervous at the idea of you meeting them at this point—he’d give anything to stress over something so idiotic now.

But Kelce knew you, better than he knew Rafe or maybe just the same. And Rafe didn’t know what to make of Kelce having no idea of what had happened, indication you’d told him as much as Rafe had. When his friends showed up at Tannyhill today, he’d half expected the death glare he’s getting right now when Rafe picks his head up again.

“Say it again.”

“Kelce,” Rafe groans, pained.

“Say it again,” he presses. “Say it one more time, Rafe, and I’ll know you’re serious.”

“I broke up with her,” he says. “We broke up.”

“You broke up with her?” Kelce repeats. “Or you broke up?”

“Whoa.”

Topper’s reappeared, a flight of shots in his hands that Rafe is shocked actually make it onto the table and don’t smash all over the sticky ground.

“Whoa,” Topper repeats dumbly. “What? Who broke up with who?”

“I don’t know, Top,” Kelce says, scooting his stool back, the feet scraping loudly on the same sticky floor. “‘Cause I’m having trouble understanding, too.”

“Can you not be so fucking dramatic?” Rafe sneers, picking the shot glass closest to him and downing it without a thought. He downs the second closest, too, just for good measure.

“I’m gonna call her right now,” Kelce warns, his phone already in his hand. “You have one more chance to tell me this is the dumbest fucking joke you’ve ever told.”

“Guys,” Topper says hesitantly. He glances between Rafe and the only remaining shot, worried.

Rafe looks to Kelce, and having no doubt he’s serious, gives the only reply that comes to mind. “Will y’make sure she’s alright?”

“God fucking dammit, Cameron,” Kelce sighs, beelining for the front door, somewhere Rafe is glad he won’t have to hear whatever comes out of his mouth next.

Topper sits down, looking bewildered, picking up that third shot. He offers it to Rafe, who waves him off, before taking it. “I’m sorry. What?”

Rafe hasn’t cried, Rafe doesn’t cry, but if his best friend makes him say it one more time then he might have to put stock into the tightening in his throat or the pressure behind his eyes he’d been feeling since he left California.

He’d been sleeping in your bed a week ago, waking up hours before you because his body was still ahead, content to let you sleep as long as possible while he took in everything he felt being close to you again, how your face and hair and nails had subtly changed since he last got to see you in August. How you had pictures of him by your bed, stuck on your mirror in your bathroom, hanging in the hallway and even under magnets on the fridge downstairs. How your blinds were in need of fixing, your sheets smelled just like they did back in Kildare, how the stack of books on your bedside table—one of their pages split down the middle by a polaroid he knew was of him and Wilbur—was so close to falling off Rafe barely dared to set his phone and wallet down but did anyway.

Because they fit, just like he somehow fit in your bed and in your heart and in your life, so grateful in these moments he got to love you without thinking twice about it, wondering how he ever got along without them. And you’d wake up with fake annoyances that he hadn’t woken you up with him, kissing him sleepily before going downstairs to start a pot of coffee.

“I don’t know what to tell you, Top,” he says, squeezing his eyes shut.

“Well—tell me what happened, to start,” Topper says. “Or—are you ready for that?”

When Charlie finally, finally, brings over another beer, Rafe figures he might was well try. “I felt like I wasn’t doing anything right. She’s crying all the time, I’m fucking up and pissing her off left and right. Her friends… fuck, I don’t even know if they liked me. I’m sure they don’t now.”

“But that’s not why…”

“I know you’re trying to understand, but—”

“And I can’t, dude. What? You broke up with Y/n/n?”

“Yes, dude, fuck! Alright? I broke up with her. I fucked it up. I don’t know why everyone’s so fucking surprised—I was bound to screw it up at some point, wasn’t I? I’m a mess, I lied to her, I was never gonna be good enough for all of it or her.”

“You lied?” Topper asks.

“I lied to my dad,” Rafe corrects, frustrated. “Why do you think I’m here? This is my life. This. My job, my dad, this shitty bar on this shitty island. And she’s…”

So good, too good. Way too good for Rafe.

Topper must agree to an extent, and Rafe doesn’t know why that makes him feel better, that his friend lets the silence drag for so long. Maybe it gives Rafe time to convince himself he hadn’t fucked up, that he’d made the right move in letting you go. He doesn’t know how he ever convinced himself this wasn’t the only way this could end.

Topper finally nods his head in recognition. “That’s heavy. No chance you’ll work it out?”

He barely thought at all this week, going through the motions like a zombie, ignoring his roommates when they changed their tack and decided Rafe needed to get over it by going out or calling up an old favorite. The nausea that kind of thinking gave Rafe left him with no other choice but to start locking his door and stop answering their texts until they’d worried he died.

Kelce approaches the table again, and Rafe looks for any sign he can that will indicate how it went, but he only addresses Topper.

“I can’t get a signal outside—fuck The Cut—I’m gonna try the bathroom. And you,” Kelce says, pointing at Rafe. “You better find your own way home until I can figure out if I need to punch you in the face or not.”

“Stop, Kelce, what the fuck, man?” Topper says, watching him go. But he stands to follow him before turning back to Rafe. “I’m gonna go cool him off, alright? Don’t go anywhere, you’re shitfaced. We can work this out.”

Rafe watches them walk away, wondering briefly if he’s gonna lose either of them over this. He might deserve it, he decides as he ignores Topper’s only instructions, tossing a few bills at the end of the bar along with all three shot glasses stacked neatly inside the empty pint he’s holding. Charlie nods at him as he does.

Rafe pushes the door open, deciding he could use the walk.

#rafe cameron #new light hcs #rafe cameron x reader #outer banks

151 notes · View notes

cherry-holmes · 1 year ago

Text

Glimpse of a life with Javier Peña

Chapter 15

MAIN MASTERLIST

Summary: Six months ago you spoke with Javi for the last time. Now, you tried to continue with your life without him.

SERIES MASTERLIST

Previous chapter

Pairing: Javier Peña x Female Reader

Word count: 6.9k

Warnings: Angst. Talk of depression. Mention of daddy issues. Brief description of reader’s body. I decide not to give more warnings to avoid spoilers, so keep the reading under your own responsibility, but in general this contains +18 material.

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

I knew you

Leavin' like a father

Running like water, I

And when you are young, they assume you know nothing

But I knew you'd linger like a tattoo kiss

I knew you'd haunt all of my what-ifs

The smell of smoke would hang around this long

'Cause I knew everything when I was young

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

Finally, on December 2, 1993, Pablo Escobar died in Medellín, bringing an end to years of violence and fear to the country. Of course, the ghosts of evil would linger over for a long time. The narcoviolence was a vicious cycle that corroded everything it touched. But for now, the police of Colombia and the DEA had shown that there were still good people and hope. Even if ir wasn't completely true.

When you saw Steve's photo in the newspaper, you felt proud of him, of course, but you knew that Javier deserved to be there too. He had given many years of sacrificing his own safety and personal life to fulfill his duty. There was no other American who had done as much for his country than Javier Peña. He deserved recognition, he deserved to be decorated and rewarded for his years of service.

But instead, he was being judged for using unorthodox methods to do his job. It wasn't ideal, but it was effective in the end. Who hasn't looked for alternatives in their most desperate moments? They didn't deserve a man like him. And now he was paying the price.

You hadn't heard anything about him since that last call, six months ago. You didn't know if he had been judged or sentenced yet. And you weren't sure if you even wanted to know.

Days turned into weeks, and before you knew it, weeks had turned into months. While everything around you seemed to continue its normal course, you felt stuck in Bogotá. Memories of warm nights with him, hurried breakfasts in his truck, and cozy dinners at home lingered, haunting you like ghosts of a past life. You tried to distract yourself, to focus on the routine of daily life, but thoughts of Javier lingered like shadows in the corners of your mind. You wore the necklace he gave you on your birthday like a charm. It was your most precious treasure, the three pearls representing the love he had for you and you for him. Your fingertips sought it out every time you felt down, sometimes unconsciously.

You found it difficult to concentrate on something else, your thoughts constantly drifting back to him, to the uncertainty that clouded his future.

You started to think that maybe the problem lay within you, that you were somehow unworthy of having the man you loved beside you. Doubts ate away at your confidence, questioning your worthiness of love in any form. In the late hours of the night, you grappled with the echoes of your past, recalling the pain of your father's abandonment when you were just a child. That trauma left a deep hole of abandonment in your heart, a wound that never fully healed. And now, facing Javier's absence, it felt like history was repeating itself. The two men you had loved the most had left you, leaving behind a trail of broken promises and shattered dreams. Yes, you still had your beloved grandfather, José, but in those moments of anxiety and depression, you couldn't help but wonder what was wrong with you to not been worthy of love.

Your mother wasn't very helping either, as she wasn't very kind towards you. She never asked you how you were now that you came back or told you she missed you. And when everything with Javi happened, she made cruel comments, hinting that for him you were just another woman and that it was your fault for sleeping with him and not respecting yourself.

However, you had your sisters who supported you through the grief, and the love of your abuelo meant everything.

He was a lawyer, and he offered you a temporary job on his independent buffet while you find a job that suit your requirements.

Losing your dream job as a translator in a foreign country, enduring very difficult situations that put your life in danger, and losing the love of your life—all the trauma and heartbreak left a hole in your chest. It felt as though a part of you was missing, as though you were navigating the world with a piece of your soul torn away.

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

The Saturday sun bathed the cobblestone streets in a warm, golden glow as you emerged from the church, your heart still echoing the hymns of worship. Beside you, your beloved abuelo walked, his arm linked with yours, his weathered face radiant with the peace of faith.

"What do you want to eat, papá?" You asked him.

"Sarita told me about a new restaurant," he answered as your mother joined his side, "She said they have delicious barbacoa and consomé."

"I don't think you should eat that, papá," your mother intervened, her brow frowned. From the look on her face, you knew she was going to confront Sara for craving such food for grandpa. "The doctor said..."

"The doctor said many things, María," he replied firmly. "I'm going to die anyway, so I'm gonna eat my birria!"

You smiled to your abuelo's stubbornness, and although you knew that your mother could be right, you just couldn't help but want to fulfill his cravings.

"Okay, papá, we all going to have barbacoa," you promised.

Before your mother could say anything to you, your nephews and nieces ran by your side, pointing towards the churro seller.

"¡Tía, cómpranos churros!" they shouted, and you found yourself outnumbered by them.

"Okay, okay!" You smiled as you watched them bouncing in front of you. "Everyone line up by height and ask the señor de los churros nicely for yours."

Your nephews and nieces cheered at unison and ran towards the vending cart. Both your sisters insisted on pay for their own children churros, but you told them that you wanted to buy churros for everyone.

As your sisters and their husbands agreed with your grandfather and your mother to all go to eat to the restaurant Sara propose to your abuelo, you tried to help the churro's vendedor not going crazy with all four children. All of them were under ten years old, so you can imagine how noisy and playful – and troubling – they can be.

As the kids devoured their churros, you juggled between keeping an eye on them and ensuring they didn't wander off too far. Their laughter filled the air, echoing against the cobblestone streets as they ran around in playful abandon.

Guiding your nephews and nieces back to your family, you barely noticed the bustling activity around you until a familiar voice pierced through the chaos. "I've always known that you look even more beautiful around kids."

You froze in disbelief, your heart skipping a beat at the sound of his voice. You turned around and saw Javier standing there. For a moment, time seemed to stand still as you took in the sight of him. He looked different, yet somehow the same—the same rugged charm, the same warm gaze that had always captivated you. His mere presence was like a jolt of electricity, sending shivers down your spine and stirring emotions you thought long buried.

As the reality of his presence sank in, a whirlwind of emotions swept through you. Part of you wanted to run into his arms, to hold him close and never let go. Another part wanted to push him away, to confront him for leaving without a word, for breaking your heart with his silence.

But as you looked into his eyes, you saw the pain and regret reflected in his gaze—the same pain you had been carrying in your heart all these months. And in that moment, all your anger and hurt melted away, replaced by a flood of overwhelming love and longing.

"Javi?" your voice cracked, eyes inevitably flooded with tears. ''How...?''

"I'm sorry," he whispered, his voice barely above a breath. "I shouldn't have left you like that."

Without another word, you closed the distance between you, your heart pounding with anticipation. Javier's eyes softened as you reached out, your arms trembling as they closed around his torso. The touch was electrifying, sending a surge of warmth coursing through your veins.

You couldn't understand exactly how he was right there, what happened during all those months?, how the hell did he found you? But he was there, he was between your arms again... His warmth, his scent, his beating heart beneath your ear, were things you thought you would never feel again.

"¿Tía?" you heard the little voice of Ana, the youngest of your nieces, as she pulled the skirt of your dress. "Is this Javi? The boy you always cry for?"

You glanced down at her, innocent eyes wide with curiosity, and then back at Javier, uncertainty clouding your thoughts. How could you explain the complexities of love and loss to a child?

"Ana, come here," Silvia, her mother, approached to grab her. She looked at Javi and then back at your watering, reddened eyes. "Is everything okay?"

"Yeah," you answered, a smile prompting on your lips, blush coloring your cheeks. It was the first time in a long, long time that you felt a genuine sense of emotion and happiness since you arrived in your birth-town. "Silvi, this is Javi. Javi, this is my sister."

Javier extended his hand towards Silvia, a warm smile gracing his lips. "Nice to meet you, Silvia," he greeted, his voice gentle and sincere.

Silvia's expression changed upon recognizing his name. Her eyes softened as she shook Javier's hand. "Likewise," she replied, her eyes flickering with curiosity. Of course, she had memorized his name and appearance through the photos you had shown her and Sara of your time in Colombia with Javi. Your sisters had wiped your tears and listened to your heartbreaking cries for him.

You saw your family approaching you, everyone seeming curious and expectant. Your hands were shaking, your heart felt like it could punch through your chest. So had so many questions, so many things to say to him. Suddenly, you felt overwhelmed.

"Buenas tardes," your abuelo approached to you. You recognized that look on his face, the same he had every time you or your sisters met a new boy. Your abuelo had always been the jealous kind, but in a sweet way.

Javier greeted your abuelo, extending his hand in a gesture of respect. "Mucho gusto, Don José. Javier Peña," he said, his voice resonating with genuine warmth, remembering your grandfather's name.

Your abuelo's eyes twinkled mischievously as he shook Javier's hand. "¡Ah! So you're the famous Javier," he replied, his tone tinged with playful teasing.

Javi looked at you with a playful arched brow, causing your face turned completely red, like a tomato. You were the most gorgeous tomato he had ever seen in his life.

"Everyone, I want you to meet Javier," you said, gesturing towards him with a smile. "Javier, this is my family."

Your sisters and their husbands exchanged glances, their eyes bright with curiosity as they greeted Javier warmly. "Nice to meet you, Javier," Sara said, extending her hand.

Javier shook her hand with a polite nod. "You too. You must be Sara."

Sara chimed in, her excitement palpable. "Yeah, it's great to finally meet you in person."

Your mother, who had been observing quietly, offered a reserved nod of acknowledgment, her expression unreadable.

As the greetings subsided, Silvia turned to Javier. "Hey, why don't you join us for lunch at the restaurant? We'd love to have you."

Before Javier could respond, you interjected gently, "Actually, if you don't mind, I'd like to have a private conversation with Javier first. We can catch up with everyone later this afternoon at home."

Javier's stomach churned at your words. "Have a private conversation" sounded like you were about to have a serious discussion. He wasn't expecting you to receive him as if nothing happened, as if he hadn't broken your heart. He was surprised and relieved when you hugged him upon seeing him, but he thought it might have been just a quick reaction, an impulsive action prompted by the heat of the moment.

Silvia's eyebrows raised in surprise, but she nodded understandingly. "Of course, hermanita. We'll see you both at home then."

With a collective agreement, your family bid you and Javier farewell, dispersing toward the church's parking lot with chatter and laughter trailing behind them. You turned to Javier, a mixture of anticipation and nerves swirling in your chest, ready to finally have the private conversation you'd been yearning for.

"So, shall we take a taxi?" you said finally.

"Actually, I brought my truck," he said, pointing at the park across the street, where you saw a red 90s Chevrolet Silverado.

"You drove all the way here?" The thought of him driving three hours, crossing the border, just to see you stirred a whirlwind of emotions within you. It was both overwhelming and heartwarming to know that he had gone to such lengths to be with you.

"Of course, from Laredo" he confessed.

As you walked across the street towards his truck, the atmosphere between you felt familiar, bringing back a flood of memories. Javier unlocked the truck and held the door open for you, as you settled into the passenger seat, the scent of his cologne enveloped you, filling you with a sense of comfort.

Once you were there, feeling overwhelmed by his return, after everything you had been throgh being away from him, thinking he was even in jail. It was too much, you barely could process it... You finally broke, as soon as Javi closed the drivers door, you started crying.

Javier's heart ached as he watched you cry, his own emotions swirling inside him like a tempest. He reached out tentatively, his hand hovering over yours, unsure if he should offer comfort or give you space.

He called your sweet name in a way only he could. You felt shivers just hearing it, reminding you of the power he had over you.

You turned to him, tears streaming down your cheeks, your eyes filled with a mixture of sadness, relief, and confusion. "Why, Javi?" you whispered, your voice trembling with emotion. "Why did you leave me?"

Javier's heart clenched at the pain in your voice, the anguish etched into your features. He took a deep breath, steeling himself to face the truth, to lay bare his soul before you.

"I thought I was doing the right thing for you," he began, his voice barely above a whisper. "I was trying to protect you."

You wanted to ask again "why?" but you knew it was unnecessary because you understood why. He was trying to shield you from becoming attached to a convict, a man who was not physically free. It had taken you a long time to grasp the magnitude of the situation and his sacrifice. Javier Peña wasn't a selfish man.

"It's important to me for you to understand that at that moment everything seemed to be against me," he continued, his eyes staring at you with longing and desperation, as he feared you wouldn't want to hear him or wouldn't believe him. "Don Berna betrayed me and forced Judy Moncada to leave Colombia and spill everything about the DEA agent who was foolish enough to trust them. I was told that I had committed a federal crime by getting involved with Los Pepes."

For a moment, the gravity of his words left you speechless, grappling with the enormity of what he had endured. You knew firsthand the dangers and complexities of his work, but hearing the details of his ordeal sent a chill down your spine.

"I had to make a choice," Javier continued, his voice tinged with regret. "I couldn't risk your safety, not when everything was falling apart around me. I thought I was doing what was best for you, even if it meant sacrificing my own happiness."

New tears welled up in your eyes as you reached out to him, your hand trembling as it touched his. In that moment, words seemed inadequate to express the depth of your emotions, the overwhelming rush of love and forgiveness that flooded your heart.

"I missed you," you confessed, your voice barely contained. "I was devastated. Not only for how things between us ended, but for thinking about what would happen to you..."

Javier's gaze softened as he listened to your heartfelt words. He reached out, gently brushing away your tears with his thumb, his touch sending a wave of warmth through you.

"I missed you too, every moment," he admitted, his voice filled with raw emotion. "Not a day went by when I didn't think about you. Te amo."

"Javi?" you spoke softly, wiping your tears and turning your body to fully face him.

"Yes, bonita?" he said, and your stomach fluttered with thousands of butterflies that had been sleeping, waiting to hear that word he used to call you. Bonita, you'll always be his bonita.

"Kiss me already," you whispered, the words escaping your lips before you could hold them back.

With a tender smile, Javier leaned closer, his gaze softening as he brushed a stray tear from your cheek. The air between you crackled with anticipation, the weight of months apart dissipating with each heartbeat.

As his lips met yours, a surge of warmth washed over you, igniting a fire that had been smoldering deep within. You let out a shaky moan when his tongue met yours, sending electricity to your core.

Javi growled at your reaction. He was so needed of your touch, your kisses; that skin-to-skin sensation he sink in when he made love with you. Cause even during the darkest moments when he feared he might spend the rest of his life behind bars, he couldn't bring himself to be with anyone else. He was yours, in body and spirit.

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

You and Javi were hungry and had so much to talk about. So you guided him through the city, searching for somewhere quiet to eat and converse. As he sat across from you at the table, perusing the menu, you still couldn't believe he was actually there—free and as handsome as ever. It felt like years had passed since Bogotá, the last time you saw him. Or maybe you suddenly died, your heart finally giving up missing him, and that was heaven.

Javi finally looked up from the menu, his gaze meeting yours. "Everything okay, sweetheart?" he asked, concern evident in his eyes as his broad hand reached across the table to touch yours.

"No... I mean, yes!" you said, your voice trailing off. "It's just... I'm so, so happy you're here, but I still can't process what happened."

Javi smiled, his eyes reflecting a mixture of tenderness and longing. "I promise, mi vida, I'll never leave you again," he vowed, his words a silent promise to cherish and protect you for as long as he lived.

The waiter approached, and you both placed your orders. After she left, you spoke again. "How did you find me?" you asked with genuine curiosity.

Monterrey was a sprawling metropolis, and in the '90s world, finding something or someone without an address or a phone number was no small feat.

Javier leaned forward, his expression radiating warmth. "It wasn't easy, but I remembered when you told me about going to church every Sunday with your family," he began, his voice low and intimate. "I recalled the name of the church and the municipality, so as soon as I arrived in the city, I searched for it. It took me all day yesterday, but I managed to get a lead, and it paid off. I found the right one."

You nodded, deeply impressed by his determination and resourcefulness. He was a proper DEA agent who spent years looking for and taking down sicarios. Of course, he was going to find his girlfriend on the first try. It was very sweet how he would do anything just to be with you, though, to have you back.

"I was fuckin' terrified that you were angry with me for leaving you like that," he continued, his voice tinged with regret. "Or worse, that you may have someone else already."

You looked at Javier, sensing the vulnerability in his eyes, and felt a pang of empathy. The thought of him fearing your anger or the possibility of you being with someone else touched you deeply.

"Javi, I could never be angry with you for trying to protect me," you said softly. "I was angry and devastated at first, I'm not gonna lie," you confessed, your chest aching with memories of those endless nights of overthinking and tears. "But it wasn't directed towards you, but towards life. I couldn't accept the decision you had to make, but with time, I came to understand that you only wished the best for me, and it was very sweet and unselfish."

You reached your delicate hand across the table to grasp his. "And as for someone else, there's never been anyone else for me. It's always been you."

His eyes softened, relief flooding his features as he squeezed your hand gently. "You're the only one for me, too, bonita. You're the best thing that could ever happen to this son of a bitch."

You leaned forward to kiss his lips. The familiarity of his touch was overwhelming and comforting at the same time.

When the meal was over and both of you were back in his truck, you asked him where he was staying.

Javier glanced at you, his expression thoughtful as he considered your question. He mentioned a hotel downtown, and you recognized it from what you had heard.

"You can stay a couple of days. I want to show you the city and introduce you properly to my family, if you don't mind," you proposed.

"Me encantaría pasar todo el tiempo del mundo contigo, mi vida preciosa," he said, and you flushed at the sweet nickname. "Actually, I was thinking about moving to a hotel closer to your house."

"That won't be necessary. You can stay with me," you offered without hesitation, feeling a rush of warmth at the idea of having him close again. "I'm living with my abuelo y mi mamá."

"I don't want to be a bother," he began, but you took his hand gently and looked into his puppy eyes.

"You're family now, and family never bothers," you assured him. "My abuelo has a spacious house, and you can stay in the guest bedroom. You know, we can sleep together..."

"That's okay, baby. I understand," he agreed, leaning over to place a kiss on your lips. "So, where do you want to go now? Wanna go home?" he asked, turning on the gear.

"Actually," you began, your cheeks burning and your heart pounding with anticipation, "I was thinking that we could go to your hotel."

With a mischievous grin, Javier glanced at you, his eyes alight with excitement. "Can we?" he asked, his voice filled with playful anticipation.

You smiled shyly, nodding as your cheeks turned cherry red. "Unless you want to spend the evening elsewhere."

Javier's eyes sparkled with amusement as he caught your playful tone. "Oh, I'm perfectly content to spend the evening wherever you desire," he replied, his voice laced with a hint of mischief.

You chuckled softly, feeling a rush of excitement tinged with nervousness.

"Be careful what you wish for, baby," he added, his voice filled with longing. "I've missed you so damn much."

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

The hotel room was nice, elegant and spacious. But of course you didn't noticed that at first, as you were very busy devouring Javi's mouth. He guided you towards the bed, hands squeezing the soft flesh of your hips; yours cupping his head.

"I love you," he muttered against your mouth, pausing briefly as you unbuttoned his shirt. "You don't have any idea how much I needed you. I couldn't breathe..."

His voice wavered with emotion, and you couldn't help but notice the vulnerability in his tone. Your fingers brushed against his lips, a silent gesture of reassurance. You still had a lot of questions, things that you would like to know, but you were sure that you had a lot of time to do it. For example, when his next move was to get rid of his shirt and you saw the scar on his side, where you knew he had been shot. Your fingers traced the damaged skin, your throat constricting at the sight of him being hurt, where he could have lost his life...

In that moment, you didn't want to cry anymore, to regret things that, fortunately, were in the past now.

"I'm here," your voice was barely a whisper, but he was close enough to hear every word. "I'm not going anywhere."

Javi nodded in agreement, leaning in to meet your lips once again. His skilled fingers unzipped the back of your dress, sending shivers all over your body as his fingertips met your skin. The light fabric pooled around your feet, his gaze darkening as it roamed over your body with desire.

His hands captured your waist, caressing the skin of your ribs and hips. His touch felt desperate, yet gentle. His fingers traced the exposed, soft skin at the edge of your bra, then smoothly moved to unclasp it, freeing the lace that covered your breasts.

You were hypnotized by the waves of heat emanating from both your naked torsos. Restless to relive that skin-to-skin sensation you longed for so much.

"God, how I missed your body," he whispered, almost unconsciously, as he devoured you with his eyes.

Your cheeks flushed even more, a shy smile appearing on your lips. "And I missed your touch, Javi," you confessed back.

With a mischievous grin, Javier glanced at you, his eyes alight with excitement. "Did you?," his voice filled with playfulness. "Did you touch yourself when you missed me?" He wanted to know. You nodded, an innocent gesture that made his cock throb on his pants. "C'mere. Show me," he ordered, leading you to the bed, where he had you lie back in the center.

Javi knelt in front of you, between your legs, your core aching with anticipation. "C'mon, take your panties off," he ordered, and you gladly obeyed.

Pushing your hips up, you grasped the edges of your panties with your fingers and began to slide the garment down your legs.

He couldn't help but hiss when he saw the glistening between your folds, where your honey pooled for him. "Touch yourself, baby, just like how you did when you were thinking of me," he whispered.

You traced a path on your skin, from the place above your belly button, down your body until your delicate middle finger met your slick. Javier was mesmerized as he watched you move up and down along your pussy, taking extra care every time you reached your clit, causing little whimpers to escape from your lips.

Suddenly, Javi felt his pants getting tighter; it was almost painful not to free himself. His hands went to his belt, and he started working on it. "Keep going," he encouraged you, as your eyes followed the glorious path of pubic hair that preceded his cock. You bit your lip, intensifying the movements on your pussy, the sound of your wetness filling the room.

"Don't be shy," he said, his voice thick with lust. "That little pussy looks so good."

You took his word and inserted one finger into your warm body. His breath quivered at the sight; he couldn't contain himself anymore.

"How does it feel?" he asked, as he took his hardened cock out of his briefs. You whimpered at the sight, your walls clenching, as if they were screaming to be stretched by its length. Javi took himself in hand and started jerking off to satisfy his own itch.

"G-good," you mumbled. It was true, but you knew it was nothing compared to the feeling of his cock inside you. So you added a second finger to try to calm your urgency, the gushing sounds surrounding you as you moved your fingers in and out of your pussy. But it wasn't enough. You wanted him.

"Javi..." you murmured.

"Tell me, bonita," he responded, his voice filled with anticipation. "Tell me what you want."

"I want you," you said, without stopping your movements.

"You want me? You want this?" he teased, showing off his cock right in front of you. A pearl of precum glistened on its tip, veins pulsating along its length. Your mouth watered at the sight. "C'mon, take it. It's yours."

He didn't have to tell you twice. You stopped what you were doing and knelt on the mattress to press your body against his. Your hand went directly to his cock, eliciting a growl from his chest.

Javi's cock fit perfectly in your tiny hand as you moved it up and down while kissing him passionately.

You let your body fall over his, and he didn't hesitate to allow himself to be placed underneath you. Your lips then moved to his neck, traveling down to his chest, his stomach... When he realized you were actually going south, he took your chin and made you look at him.

"That's not necessary..." he clarify. He wasn't expecting that.

"I want to," you insisted.

Without another word, you positioned yourself right over his cock, taking it in your hand and placing a kiss on its tip. "Fuck..." he reacted.

You were unsure what to do, as it was the first time you'd done it. You only wanted to make him feel good.

So you tried licking its head, the salty taste on your tongue making your pussy clench around nothing. Then, you attempted to take the head into your warm mouth. You had to open your mouth wider than you expected, your hand gently placed on its base. It was too big, hard, and too long.

You bobbed your head at a constant rhythm, encouraged by the moans and hisses he began to let out. Javi's hand went to your hair, gathering it into a ponytail, both to let you work easily and to clear his view. "Good job, baby," he praised.

When you tried to go further, its head at the back of your throat made you gag, so you had to take a breath. "Take it easy," he said reassuringly as he tucked a stray strand of your hair behind your ear. "You're doin' amazing."

You went back to it, but this time a little lower. "Holy shhh..." he growled, feeling the wetness and warmth of your tongue licking his balls. They tasted salty, heavy on your lips. You closed your hand around his length, moving it up and down to please him. Slurping noises filled the room, amplifying the intensity. "You look so pretty taking my cock like that baby."

You alternated between using your mouth and your hand on his cock and his balls, growing more confident with each movement, trying to take him deeper as you could. Your mouth felt like heaven for him, but he needed to stop. He wanted to fuck to you properly instead of just cum on your tongue. There would be another chance for that.

After a moment, Javi sat on the bed and gestured for you to do the same. You could barely catch your breath before his mouth captured yours, his arm around your waist. You knelt in front of him, providing easy access to your breasts, and he didn't miss the opportunity, capturing one of your nipples into his mouth. You threw your head back, moaning at the sensation, your fingers tangled in his hair.

He worshipped your body, squeezing your hips and back, massaging your ass with his broad hands. Then his fingers found your soaked pussy, taking advantage of how wet you were as he introduced one of them inside you. You whimpered, moving your hips over his hand, desperate to quell the need for him. He added a second thick finger, stretching you so damn good. They slipped in and out without effort, and Javi could feel your slick running down the bare palm of his hand.

Javi licked the sensitive skin of your nipple before shifting to your other breast. He sucked and played with the tip of his tongue on the nipple, just like he did when he played with your clit, like a starved man.

"Javi..." you whimpered.

Once he was satisfied with how wet you were, he guided his cock to your entrance as you instinctively lowered your hips. Both of you moaned as he made his way inside you, stretching your walls. The sensation was painfully familiar for both of you, the feeling of being connected in an intimate, raw way. It was as if you were born for each other, like you belonged together beyond the physical realm.

He didn't waste any time, going straight to help you move over him. Once you understood the assignment, your hips started working almost on their own. "That's it, bonita, give it to me."

You could feel him very deep inside you, his tip brushing against the entrance of your cervix, his balls thrusting against you every time you went down.

Your arms wrapped around his neck, pulling him closer to kiss him, engaging in a battle of tongues and a tangle of legs.

"Your cock feels amazing, mi amor, la extrañé mucho," you whispered in his ear before you bite his earlobe.

"That's why you wanted to suck my cock?" he asked, his fingers gripping tighter on your hips, urging you to move faster. "My fuckin' dirty girl, so right for me..."

"Wanna see how dirty I can get?" placing your hands on his chest, you pushed him back so he could lie down again.

He was pleased with the view. The curves of your body, every roll, every pore, every freckle, every stretch mark. You were so sexy and gorgeous.

He tried to reach for your body, but you took his wrists and placed them over his head. You started moving your hips: up and down, front and back. At first, it was slow, savoring every inch of his cock slipping inside you. Then, you moved faster, riding him as whimpers escaped from your mouth, joining the skin-to-skin sound of your bodies thrusting together. Your hands went to his chest for more balance as you rode him.

"That's it, baby. Don't stop...fuck..." he grunted, his hands on your ass to help you keep going.

You slowed down when your legs began to ache, leaning down to capture his lips. His broad, warm hands caressed your hair, trailing down to your shoulders and back until they reached your waist. With a swift, smooth movement, Javi turned you around. Before you could process it, your body was beneath his, and he penetrated you again. This time, the soft moan you made when you felt him inside was silenced by his mouth.

"I love you, bonita," he promised, moving his pelvis against yours.

With your hands cupping his head, little whimpers escaping your lips, you echoed the sentiment. "I love you so much, Javi."

His thrusts grew harder and faster, his arms bearing his weight to avoid crushing you. His growls and whimpers were music to your ears. Your lips caressed the soft skin of his neck, your hands roamed everywhere along his broad back. He was lost in you, shivers crossing his entire being every time he reached that deep spot inside you, eliciting cries of his name from your lips.

"You like that, bonita? Hm?" he breathed out, his voice captivated by his own pleasure. "Fuck, I love your pussy."

Your orgasm was so close, he could tell by the way your walls clenched around his length, and the rivers of your nectar emanating from your cunt. You tried to warn him, but you could only mumble as your body shuddered beneath him. "I know, baby... Fuck, I'm gonna cum too."

You felt how he was doubtful about his next move. He wanted you to come, of course, but he was so dangerously close to his own release that he needed to be careful not to come inside you. But you were so horny and lost on the pleasure that you knew you want his load dripping out your pussy.

So you tangled your legs around his torso, forcing him inside you. "I'm gonna cum..." he warned.

"It's okay... I want you to fill me up..." you moan.

"Yeah? That's what you want, honey?" He cooed, his lips placing soft, wet kissed on your jawline.

You nodded, "Ye-yes! Fuck, Javiii!" that's the only thing you could say, as his movements were almost erratic, hungrily against you.

"I'm gonna fuck a baby into you... What about that?" he grunted, the mere thought of it made the both of you shiver with pleasure.

"Yes! Oh my... Yes! I-wa.... I'm wanna have your baby, Javi," you mumbled, so lost on the moment that you couldn't even think about the weight of the words you spoke.

"I'm gonna cum so deep on you that you're gonna smell like me for days, baby."

Those were the words that made you finally lost it. Your entire body seemed to implode for a moment before it exploded on a devastating orgasm. Throwing your head back against the mattress, your nails digging on the muscles of his arms and toes curling as your squirted on his cock. A silent scream of pleasure took the shape of Javi's name.

With one last final thrust, Javier followed you reaching his release between deep-voice whimpers and grunts of your name over and over again. You felt his warm load filling up, mixing with your slick, making you clenched even more, milking him so damn good.

As he felt himself softening, he pulled out and lay beside you as both of you tried to catch your breath again. Finally, Javi wrapped his arms around you, pulling you close to his chest, the warmth of his body comforting against your skin. You lay there together in silence, the only sounds filling the room were the rhythmic beating of your hearts and the soft exhales as you both recovered from the intensity of your lovemaking.

After a while, Javier felt your body shake a bit, and it wasn't long before he heard you sniffing. Were you crying? He tried to see your face, but you hid from him with your face against his chest. It was evident that you were crying. He felt a pang in his chest, concern washing over his face as he tried to make you look up at him.

"Are you okay?" he asked, his voice charged with worry and guilt. "Did I hurt you?"

"No, no," you rushed to say, wiping your tears with your fingers as his brushed your hair and placed it behind your ear. "You didn't do anything. I'm just so happy."

Javier's expression softened as he pulled you closer, wrapping his arms around you protectively. "I'm here, mi amor," he murmured, pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead. "I'm not leaving you ever again."

You melted into his embrace, feeling safe and loved in his arms, the bliss of your orgasms still lingering on your bodies. After a moment of silence, he spoke again, his fingers gently tracing circles on your back. "I really meant it."

Struggling not to fall asleep, since you still had to return to your grandfather's house, you asked, "What?" Your voice was soft, barely audible above the hushed rhythm of your breathing.

"I want to have babies with you." His words hung in the air, tinged with both sincerity and excitement.

You flushed, a warmth spreading across your cheeks as you processed his declaration. Your heart started to beat faster, and you didn’t even think he was completely serious yet.

"Well, we have to get married first, then," you replied, a hint of playfulness in your tone.

"I know,” he added, determination on his tone, “I'm going to ask your grandfather for your hand tomorrow." His eyes meeting yours with unwavering resolve.

"Are you serious?" Your voice was tinged with surprise, a mixture of disbelief and anticipation.

Javier nodded, his gaze softening as he tucked a loose strand of hair behind your ear. "Absolutely serious," he affirmed, his tone earnest. "¿Quieres casarte conmigo?”

Your heart fluttered at his words, a rush of emotions welling up inside you. New tears of joy fell down your cheeks as you nodded repeatedly. "¡Sí! Sí quiero, Javi. Quiero casarme contigo," you admitted, a smile tugging at the corners of your lips.

"Then it's settled," he declared, pressing a tender kiss to your forehead, pulling you closer to him again. "Tomorrow, I'll talk to your grandfather, and soon after, we'll start planning our wedding."

You nestled closer to him, feeling a sense of contentment wash over you. You still couldn’t believe what was happening in that moment. Just that morning, your heart ached with his absence, and you couldn't imagine seeing him ever again. If someone had told you that same afternoon you would be in his arms again, making love with him, and practically engaged, you wouldn't have believed it. You would have thought it was a cruel joke. And yet, there he was with you, vowing to share a life together.

NEXT CHAPTER

108 notes · View notes

queen-haq · 1 year ago

Text

Fic: Never You (Penelope x Colin) - Part 3

Fandom: Bridgerton (TV show)

Spoilers: S3 released scenes.

Summary: They may have been friends once but his callous words decimated their relationship. Determined not to have anything to do with him, Penelope is ready to move on. But Colin isn’t giving up, not at all. Friends or not, they are connected for life - and he intends to remind her of that.

Excerpt:

“You would hate me for not wanting to court you. You would be that selfish?”

“Of course you would think that.”

“What else is this if not punishment?”

Masterlist (contains links to Part 1 and my other stories)

Penelope had always dreamt that her first kiss with Colin would be sweet and romantic, exhibiting the care and tenderness that existed between them. Passion never entered her mind, and when she daydreamed about being married to him, not much thought was spent on the act of making love. Instead she imagined reading to him, walking with him, enjoying food and laughter, and living a life of shared contentment – very different from the marriage between her own mother and father. After overhearing Colin the night of her mama’s ball, she desperately wanted those fantasies to stop. Yet they lingered and she didn’t understand why. Maybe it’s because he was so deeply entrenched in her soul that she couldn’t imagine a future without him, maybe those dreams just brought her comfort when too many things had changed otherwise, but either way they didn’t stop. And so she started writing as a way to distract herself from her thoughts, not scandal sheets but rather a novel about unrequited love. It was halfway complete before her mama made the decision to send her to the country to stay with one of their cousins. Portia Featherington hoped the change in air would mean Penelope would stop moping and hopefully lose some weight. Penelope had her own reasons for agreeing. She wanted distance from Eloise and reminders of Colin, and hoped discovering a new place would give her respite from the pain. The last few months at Ayleshire had provided that and so much more; it was there she had met Arthur Debling and had her eyes opened to a world she never knew existed before. And it was because of him that she was now aware of desire and passion, and that it could exist without love.

Because Colin didn’t love her, but the moment his lips touched hers they were both wrecked. All thoughts ceased to exist, all she could do was feel and experience sensations she had never imagined. He devoured her with his mouth, his tongue stroking hers with raw urgency. And she kissed him back with equal fervor, standing on her toes, clinging to him desperately.

Whilst her gloved hands fisted his hair, aching to run her bare fingers through his soft, beautiful curls, his roved everywhere on her body. One second he was cupping her breasts, the next his hands were grasping her bottom, roaming over the length of her frantically. He was a man caught up in madness, fully determined to possess her.

Everything was moving fast, too fast, her body aroused, mind spinning. Desperately needing some air to compose herself, she dragged her mouth away from his. But he didn’t stop, no, his mouth drifted to her ear, his ragged breaths echoing in her mind as his tongue traced the curve of the shell, making her tremble in his arms. And then his tongue stroked the oh-so-sensitive spot just below which instantly made her knees buckle. But he held her tight, his grip fierce and strong as he maneuvered her back against the wall of the maze, refusing to give her any respite from the ecstasy he unleashed upon her.

No one had ever admired her breasts before. It hadn’t even occurred to her that it would be something anyone would want to do, but seeing the glazed look on Colin’s face as he stared at them longingly, touching her with reverence, before angling down to pepper hot, wet kisses on her bosom made her realize how much she still didn’t know about physical arousal. Like how good it felt to have his face sink into her breasts, the sensation of his tongue and teeth on her skin, electrifying every nerve in her body. She moaned, feeling that deep yearning between her legs. “Colin, more…”

Frantically he tried to scoop her breasts out of the bodice but the corset underneath proved too tight. “This damn thing,” he bit out with frustration before yanking down the sleeves of her dress. The force with which he pulled not only ripped the lace from the sleeve but also tore the side of her bodice.

It was at that moment Penelope rushed back to reality, feeling exposed in front of him. Quickly she covered herself with her arms.

The shift in the air was palpable, fraught with tension.

Hesitant, her breath came out in shallow spurts as she finally dared to glance up at him. Colin was no longer looking at her like a man possessed. Instead there was panic in his eyes, his face taking on a horrified expression.

“Pen…” His eyes swept over her chest. “I’m so sorry. I…” He jumped back, realizing he was entirely too close. Like he could no longer bear to touch her. “I don’t know what came over me.” Guilt flooded his expression. He couldn’t even seem to hold her gaze and averted his eyes. “I took liberties I shouldn’t have.”

Her stomach was coiled into knots, mind still reeling from what occurred. “It’s fine. It’s over. We both acted foolishly.”

“You deserve a husband who values you.” He cast her furtive glances, running his fingers through his hair. “Someone who cares for you and cherishes you. Someone who can truly love you.”

Because he couldn’t.

There was no denying that his words wounded her, but not being good enough for him also didn’t bring with it the searing pain and shame it once did. Now there was no agonizing heartbreak, just a dull ache in her soul which she could manage with little effort.

“I didn’t mean to hurt you.” His eyes still lingered along her ripped bodice. “I acted like a savage.”

“It’s done with,” she replied, irritated. “I would just like to go home and put this night behind me.”

“Your first kiss is supposed to be special, a magical moment, and I ruined that for you.”

“You didn’t,” she interjected. “Tonight was not my first kiss. So you don’t need to fret.”

The change in him was abrupt. One second he was burdened with remorse, next he was staring back at her with fire in his eyes, a simmering rage that appeared to dissipate all of his trepidation from before. “Who did you kiss, Penelope?”

Penelope, not Pen. He rarely ever used her given name, not unless he was upset. And spotting the angry glint in his eyes, the tightening of his jaw, it was clear that he was – which made her own temper rise. “How is that your concern?”

He took a step towards her, his eyebrow cocked. “Answer me.”

“I will not!” She glared up at him defiantly. “You are in no position to demand anything from me, Colin.”

The madness that took over him when he was kissing her seemed to return with a vengeance as he closed the distance between them. His demeanor was agitated, his troubled eyes piercing right through to her core. “Was it him? Your mysterious suitor?”

“Why does it matter to you? You don’t even believe he exists!”

“He’s taken advantage of you, hasn’t he? What has he done?”

She should have walked away, perhaps even tried to calm his distressed self for the sake of their friendship - but his entitlement and refusal to believe someone would actually want her still had her infuriated at him. Outraged, she started provoking him instead. “Nothing I did not desire for him to do.”

His eyes darkened to an almost pitch-black under the moonlight. “Is that so?”

“Yes,” she huffed back. “And that is all I wish to say to you. Good night, Sir!”

When she attempted to walk past him, he blocked her path. “Who is he?” Danger laced his voice. “I demand you tell me now, Pen.”

“And I demand you go to hell!” she spat out.

“Did you kiss him the way you kissed me?” His arm snaked around her waist, crushing her against his chest. “Did you let him touch you?”

What was happening between them? She didn’t understand it. He’d never behaved like this before, a complete contrast to the boy she fell in love with. Yet his predatory wildness didn’t scare her, instead sending thrills down her spine.

“Did he kiss your breasts, Penelope? Did you undress for him and let him see you naked?”

“And what if I did?” she retaliated. “Why do you care?”

“You do not belong to him!”

“But I will. Soon.. And then I will be loved and cherished and happy and there’s nothing you can do to stop it.”

“You think I would just let you walk out of my life, Pen?” He shook his head ‘no’, his eyes gleaming with emotion. “I will never let you go.”

It was all too much, she could no longer bear it. His close proximity, his intoxicating words – it all wreaked havoc with her thoughts. Worst of all, he was giving her false hope and that was something she couldn’t afford to have. “Release me, Colin!”

“I will not.”

“Colin! Unhand her now!”

It was the sound of Anthony’s voice that finally made Colin loosen his grip on her waist. Immediately she distanced herself from him, a heated blush creeping across her cheeks at being caught by the Viscount. Anthony wasn’t alone, next to him was his wife, Kate, who was staring at Penelope with concern.

To be continued...

#polin #bridgerton #penelope x colin #colin x penelope #my fics #never you

65 notes · View notes