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#still it was worth it because I HAD to gif the hug
fritzes · 2 months
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taylor fritz and tommy paul win the bronze medal for men's doubles at the 2024 olympics
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quin-ns · 9 months
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Always Forever (Coriolanus Snow x Reader)
Word count: 8.2K
Summary: coriolanus finally lets himself acknowledge that he can’t stand to see you with anyone but him
Tags: (18+), cw: dubcon, cw: noncon, pseudo!incest (not related, reader raised with the snows), dark!coriolanus, pre-mentor era, jealousy/obsession/possessiveness, oral (f receiving), fingering, p in v sex, fear of getting caught, lots of drama for my lovely readers
A/N: second coryo fic and it’s somehow longer than the last one lol. only one part. pls read the tags and proceed with caution 🫶
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“Look at you, you look so pretty!” Tigris beamed, adjusting the straps of your dress. “Doesn’t she, Coryo?”
In his peripheral, Coriolanus could see his cousin had turned to look at him expectantly, but his eyes were already on you. They always had been, and always would be.
“Yes, she does,” he replied without thought.
You faced him with a smile, and Coriolanus couldn’t help the pride that swarmed him just looking at you.
It was because of him that you were in his life, and until the day he died Coriolanus knew it would remain the best decision he ever made.
As children during the war, when he and Tigris would scavenge the streets, Coriolanus stumbled across you. Not much younger than him, huddled behind a pillar, all alone. You had a half a loaf of bread. It wasn’t fresh, but he still didn’t understand where you got it. You tore it in half and shared it with him.
He returned to Tigris with you in tow, his small hand clutching your even smaller one, and his cousin took pity.
She also took the brunt of the consequence for bringing home another mouth to feed, but sacrifices had to be made, didn’t they?
It was worth it. You were worth it to him—to both of them, really.
As you got older, Grandma’am eventually took a liking to you, although Coriolanus wondered if it was because she could see how much he cared for you.
It didn’t matter. Not really. You were part of the family now, even if you did not share the Snow name.
“Thank you, Tigris,” you said sweetly, pulling the older girl into a hug.
It was a big day for both you and Coriolanus. The academy was hosting an event for students to mingle with administration and alumni of the university.
Coriolanus had put on his best outfit—he already knew it was the same one he was going to wear when the Plinth Prize winner was announced in only a few weeks. He was sure it was going to be him.
Tigris had fashioned your dress by hand. Coriolanus was past questioning how she paid for her fine fabrics, but he had an inclination it was the same way they could suddenly afford food some days.
The long dress reminded Coriolanus of freshly fallen snow, the white holding a sense of purity and wealth that his family once had. It had a sense of elegance that you only furthered with donning it, but it lacked an extravagance that would force you to stand out.
It was perfect.
You parted from Tigris to approach Coriolanus. You had a light smile on your face as your hands ran down his black vest, adjusting it.
“We almost match,” you commented, referring to the white shirt beneath said vest. “If only I had something black.”
“Well, I’d let you borrow this, but then we’d be in the same position, only switched,” he teased lightly, drawing a small chuckle from you.
Coriolanus liked when you looked up at him, same as he liked hearing your laugh.
“Don’t worry, I’ll survive without.” Your hands fell to your sides. “Besides, it definitely looks more handsome on you.”
Hearing those words from you meant more than you’d ever know, and more than he’d let himself acknowledge.
You were so good to him, he couldn’t imagine spending the evening with anyone else.
When he walked into the ballroom of the academy with you on his arm, Coriolanus got a rush of power. Especially when heads turned. Looking at him, looking at you, just looking.
He wondered what the minds behind all those gazing eyes were thinking.
He hoped it was a balanced amount of envy and respect.
“We should find Sejanus, let him know we’re here,” you said, not thinking much of the sentence as you looked around the room, taking in the people and the decor.
Coriolanus thought everything of it, a sourness settling over him. Sejanus was his friend, but Coriolanus wished they hadn’t gotten as close as they did. It was because of his friendship with Sejanus that you met him, and began to develop… feelings for him.
God, Coriolanus hated to even think about it.
When you told him you had begun dating Sejanus, Coriolanus nearly had a heart attack. Then he felt violent. Not towards you. Never towards you.
It wasn’t just because he felt protective of you, or because Sejanus was district, or because Coriolanus knew you were far, far too good for his friend… it was everything. All of that and everything in between.
Before you could find him, Sejanus found you.
He was in a fine black suit, finer than anything Coriolanus owned, and a bright smile appeared on his face at the sight of you.
That was one thing they still had in common. Reverence for you.
“Had to come find my girl before everyone thinks she ditched me,” Sejanus joked, pulling a laugh from you. “Where have you guys been?”
“Making sure we look our best,” you replied, shooting Coriolanus a wink.
If Sejanus wasn’t reaching for you, Coriolanus might’ve smiled.
“Well, you did a wonderful job.”
Coriolanus let you slip away from his side, reluctantly giving you away to Sejanus.
The unfortunate thing was Sejanus was truly a decent person. Not perfect, but decent. Better than most, even if he was beneath you all. You cared nothing for status, and seemed to really like him. He treated you right from what Coriolanus had seen, making disapproval not exactly warranted.
Although, Coriolanus was always going to be incredibly protective of you. He doubted there was a world where he would be pleased with any relationship you found. Your interest in other people was becoming tiresome, truthfully. Did you really even need friends? Or lovers? You had Coriolanus, and he was sure that was enough.
His jaw clenched when you pressed a light kiss to Sejanus’s cheek. It would be much simpler if he was a terrible person. Coriolanus would have an excuse outside of his own selfishness to separate you—which he did not have now.
“Can I ask for this dance?” Sejanus wondered, shooting you a smile. At least he had the awareness to still look anxious.
But you… you grinned. You were too good.
“Well you just asked, so I guess you can,” you started sarcastically, but let him off the hook quickly. “And of course I’ll say yes.”
Sejanus looked relieved, taking your hand in his. You turned to look at Coriolanus, a small bit of guilt in your expression. You clearly hadn’t been planning on leaving his side so soon. You masked it with the same teasing tone you’d used before.
“I won’t be long, don’t get too bored without me, Coryo.”
Coriolanus only smiled for your sake. It fell the moment Senjanus led you away to a small group of other students dancing together.
From the sidelines, Coriolanus watched as Sejanus led you in a slow dance. He tried to avoid his eyes landing on his friend. He didn’t want to view the two of you in the same light as the other couples embracing one another.
Coriolanus tried to remember the first moment he realized how beautiful you were. It was so long ago, it wasn’t something he was even aware he thought so often.
The sun rose in the morning, roses had thorns, and you were beautiful.
It was simple as that.
After a dance and a half, Coriolanus couldn’t take it anymore.
His feet carried him to the dance floor, mind absent as he tried to justify his jealousy as protectiveness. Yes, that’s all he was. Protective. Like an older brother… like what he was supposed to be. Even if it wasn’t what he wanted to be.
You and Sejanus were swaying and talking, but as he snuck up on the two of you, Coriolanus couldn’t make out the words. It didn’t matter.
You turned your head to look at him, smiling in surprise at his presence.
“Coryo!”
“Can I cut in?” Coriolanus requested. His hand itched to rest on your shoulder, but he withheld. He wasn’t going to take no for an answer, and he briefly wondered if Sejanus sensed that or not.
“All yours,” Sejanus agreed, spinning you by the hand. You turned in a circle, then a half, facing Coriolanus. “I’m going to go find my father, he’s here tonight,” he informed.
“I’ll come find the two of you in a few minutes,” you told Sejanus, who nodded then headed off. Before he did, he looked to Coriolanus and said, “Take good care of her.”
“I always do,” Coriolanus responded easily, because it was the truth. He didn’t need Sejanus telling him that. He’d been there for you long before either of you even knew his friend existed. He looked down to you, taking your hand in his while the other fell to your waist. You looked amused. “I do, don’t I?”
“Yes, Coryo,” you replied with a smile. “Better than anyone.”
The slow waltz felt so natural, your movements in tune with his without thought. You two were always like that, always in sync.
“What were you and Sejanus talking about?” Coriolanus wondered, curiosity getting the best of him.
“Nothing important,” you dismissed with a shrug. “Sweet nothings.”
Coriolanus didn’t miss the shy smile appearing on your face. He couldn’t control the frown trying to take over his.
A more thoughtful look crossed your face, your smile faltering.
“Are you happy for me, Coryo?”
Coriolanus blinked.
“I… want to be,” he confessed, eyes scanning your face. It was the truth for the most part. He did want you to be happy, just not with Sejanus.
You nodded slowly, taking in his words. Coriolanus wished he could open your head and investigate every corner of your brain. He wanted to know every thought you had.
“Sejanus is your friend, I would’ve thought…” you swallowed and looked away. “Never mind.”
“No, what is it?” Coriolanus pressed, tilting his head, trying to make you meet his gaze.
When you did, he saw the disappointment in your eyes.
You stepped back from him, parting completely.
“I need to find Sejanus. I’ll put in a good word for you about the Plinth Prize with his father.”
Then, you departed, not leaving room for Coriolanus to argue for you to stay.
He would’ve, and you knew that.
The moment you disappeared from his view, Coriolanus went looking. You had moved quickly. He found you across the room, sitting down at a table with Sejanus and Mr. Plinth.
He didn’t approach, he couldn’t make himself look bad in front of Mr. Plinth.
So he watched you talk, and drink, and laugh, and drink some more…
“I can’t believe she’s doing this,” Arachne whispered, suddenly appearing at his side. Coriolanus looked down at her. She was clearly talking about you. He could see the way she flicked her heavily decorated eyes in your direction. “Associating with him was one thing, but… well”—Arachne let out a vicious laugh—“do you think their children will call her “Ma” too?”
Coriolanus felt ill at the thought. Leave it to Arachne to provoke him, to conjure up nightmares he hadn’t even thought of yet himself.
“She’ll come to her senses,” Coriolanus muttered, gritting his teeth.
Arachne rolled her eyes. “Let’s hope so,” she mused, continuing on her way, blood red dress dragging behind her with each step.
Coriolanus looked back to you. He was overwhelmed with nausea as Sejanus grabbed your hand atop the table. Damn Arachne for placing that thought in his head.
He watched as you lifted another glass to your lips, smiling along as Sejanus talked to his father. What was that, your third? Sejanus had yet to say anything to you. He was fine with allowing you to get intoxicated?
Drinking alcohol wasn’t exactly a crime, but Sejanus didn’t know you well enough to know you were inexperienced. The last thing Coriolanus wanted was you making a fool of yourself.
Darker thoughts crept in. Maybe Sejanus was allowing you to inebriate yourself on purpose. The thought of him climbing on top to you made Coriolanus’s blood boil. His fingers twitched to form a fist, and his jaw clenched even tighter.
In that moment, Coriolanus decided he wouldn’t let Arachne’s mockery come true.
He had to help you. You needed his protection, even when you didn’t know it. You needed him. You always would. Coriolanus could remind you, then perhaps you'd see you didn’t even need Sejanus at all.
When you left the table—Coriolanus wasn’t sure why—he saw his opportunity. He approached you quickly, finding no problem in catching your arm and leading you away from the party. Away from all the people, where it could just be the two of you.
Out a door, down a long, empty corridor until the two of you ended up outside in the school’s garden. It was isolated from the party, you’d be safer here.
“Coryo? What—“
“Are you alright?” Coriolanus asked, cutting you off. He released you to stand across from you, leaving you to lean back against the stone wall behind you. “I saw how much you were drinking.”
You looked up at him, confused, but not frightened. If anyone else had handled you the way he did, you surely would’ve been. But you trusted him. You always had.
“Did I drink a lot?” you asked, a slight pout on your lips. “I didn’t notice.”
“Oh.” So, you were okay. That was good, wasn’t it? “I thought maybe you needed rescuing,” he admitted, unsure whether to feel embarrassed or not.
You chuckled a little and the sound washed over Coriolanus, bringing him a sense of relief from all his previous tension.
“My hero,” you said lightly, smiling up at him. You were always smiling at him, but Coriolanus no longer wondered if he was worthy of it all. “You’re always there for me, aren’t you?”
Coriolanus stepped closer. His hand rose, his fingertips trailing the outline of your face. Someone so pretty, so sweet, had to be careful in a cruel world like this.
“What would you do without me?” he proposed, not expecting an answer.
You didn’t need one, because you never would have to find out.
He’d follow you to the end of the Earth, just as he knew you’d follow him. You needed each other. You didn’t need Tigris or Grandma’am and especially not Sejanus, but without Coriolanus, who would you even be? Coriolanus couldn’t imagine his world without you in it. Not even if he tried.
Staring at you now, Coriolanus heard the voice in the back of his mind begin to whisper. The one that urged his protectiveness, knowing it was fueled by possession. The one he would use all his power to silence.
Something new had overcome him, watching you galavant around with Sejanus. Well, not new, but clear. Coriolanus finally had clarity. That’s what it was. That was how he finally acknowledged what had so long been lingering in his peripheral, just on the edge of his mind, waiting for the right moment.
Was this the right moment?
He made no effort to banish his most repressed thoughts. For once, he let them win.
Coriolanus leaned down, pressing his lips to yours. Gentle, testing the waters. You did not react right away. Maybe it wasn’t necessarily a good sign, but that didn’t stop him from using it as an excuse to deepen the kiss.
His other hand found your face, holding you against him as he nipped at your lip, begging you to invite him in.
Your reaction was delayed, and Coriolanus thought maybe, just maybe, you had been thinking the same thing he had all along. That the faint taste of alcohol on your lips meant you were feeling more open to exploring this with him, and that all you needed was a nudge in the right direction.
But no, you were turning your head, making his lips part from yours.
Coriolanus faltered, but you still did not speak. Your breaths were clipped—flustered and confused. He could understand that. His own heart was racing, although adrenaline and need were to blame for that.
“Coryo…” you whispered so softly he nearly didn’t hear it. “What are you doing?”
Leave it to you to not get angry with him. Or even upset. At this point he questioned if you were even capable of feeling anger at him.
Coriolanus stepped closer, making you have to tilt your head up to look at him.
“I don’t think I can share you,” he confessed under his breath, but with conviction. “I know I can’t and you… you don’t need anyone else. You have me.”
You swallowed, eyes looking down. “Sejanus—“
“Doesn’t know you like I do,” Coriolanus finished, one hand still holding your cheek, tilting your head, making you meet his eye again. “Seeing you with him… he’s not good enough for you.”
“I thought you were above judging him for being district.” You sounded so disappointed in him.
“I don’t care that he’s district, he’s not good enough because no one will ever be,” Coriolanus corrected, imploring you to understand.
With a light sigh, his eyes fell shut. Gently, he leaned to press his forehead to yours. He blindly reached for your hands, and found them in each of his with no problem.
“I would not be happy seeing you with anyone else,” Coriolanus confessed, voice low. “Not anyone but me.”
You inhaled slightly. Was it that big of a shock?
He gave you no chance to voice it because Coriolanus was capturing your lips again, passion erupting in his veins.
His mind was clouded with thoughts that fought for center attention, his built up desires controlling him as his hands and lips cascaded down your body. Your neck, your chest, your stomach—
“Coryo, what are you doing?” you questioned when he began to move lower.
“Shh, don’t worry,” he cooed, dismissing your concern.
Coriolanus finally fell to his knees in front of you. He’d never take such a humiliating position for anyone else. But with you, it didn’t feel humiliating. It was exhilarating, knowing he was on his knees worshiping you, but he still held all the power. It was nearly perfect.
You gasped a little when he gripped your right leg and maneuvered it over his shoulder. More of your weight rested back against the wall, unable to stand straight on just one leg.
He looked upward, watching your face the entire time as he pushed your dress up around your hips, revealing your underwear to him.
Coriolanus was so close and you had yet to move.
Words couldn’t find their way to his lips. It was all too overwhelming in the best way. His heart slamming against his rib cage was a welcome feeling, and so was the pressure on his knees.
You bucked away before his mouth could reach your core. Coriolanus didn’t think much of it. He had a lot of other images rushing through his brain. Ones he wanted to become reality.
He scooted forward and tried again, this time making contact with the layer of fabric separating him from your most intimate spot.
Coriolanus heard a choked noise from you as he ran his tongue across the front of your underwear.
Right away, he wanted more.
His hands found the material acting as a barrier and he gripped it then pulled, tearing it from you one leg at a time, exposing you to him.
Before it could fall to the ground, he caught the shredded material and stuffed it into his pocket.
He felt a bit guilty, knowing how little you all had when it came to clothing, but he wanted to do this the right way. Coriolanus wanted nothing blocking him from showing you how good he could make you feel.
As much as his eyes were tempted to linger, impatience got the best of him.
He made contact again, licking a stripe across your bare cunt. Once he got a taste, Coriolanus couldn’t hold back.
His mouth latched onto you, tongue sliding between your folds, drawing a stifled moan from you. You reached for his head, trying to knock him away, but Coriolanus persisted. His will easily overtook yours. You weren’t going to take this away from him, not when he could make you want it just as bad.
He held onto the leg over his shoulder, gripping your flesh, surely leaving bruises in his wake. He held the skirt of your dress up with the other hand. With his mouth, he devoured you. Lapping at your core like a man starved, even more so when wetness began to form.
This wasn’t something Coriolanus had done, but he knew you better than anyone. He was sure he could figure out your body. He’d dreamt about it long enough, making you fall apart for him in such an intimate way.
He soon found that to be the truth when in only a matter of minutes your body was tensing. He continued to drag his tongue across you, giving every bit of you his full attention. He liked the way your thighs quivered when his tongue brushed your clit, it gave him an excuse to hold you tighter.
Your whole body flinched suddenly, but he shoved your hips back, pinning you to the wall as he brought you to the edge
His own pants felt constricted as his senses were overwhelmed by you. Your taste, your scent, the sound of your choked down moans, your hands smacking the wall (unsure what else to do), the feel of you against his tongue and how your leg strained over his shoulder, and the sight of you when he looked up through his lashes… god, you were magnificent.
You whimpered from above, teeth digging into your bottom lip, as he finally made you come undone.
Coriolanus held you still, relishing in the way you finally jolted into his touch instead of away.
He couldn’t take his eyes off of you. You were the stuff of dreams in the most literal sense.
Your head tilted back against the wall, your ragged breaths causing your chest to rise and fall in an unsteady pattern. Your leg, still draped over his shoulder, was tense, even as he pressed a gentle kiss to your inner thigh.
A wide grin spread across Coriolanus’s face when you shivered. He couldn’t help himself. He nearly chuckled at your state, but then your hand moved to rake through his wavy locks. The sound caught in his throat as you tugged him away, finally looking down at him. The all consuming pleasure had faded into something more composed.
Coriolanus could tell how much of an effort you were making, and as your eyes struggled to focus, he briefly wondered how strong your drinks were.
“I’d like to go home now,” you said slowly, conscious not to let your voice falter.
You allowed him to help get both to your feet on the ground, but you did not touch him for the rest of the night, even when he tried to reach for you.
He was still hard behind the confines of his pants, imagining the slickness between your thighs that was the result of his actions. As you walked back through the ballroom, it took everything he had to not push you back against a nearby wall. People be damned, he wanted you more than anything.
He would press his chest to your back—no, he’d make you face him. Coriolanus wanted access to your lips so he could kiss you as much as he liked, even swallow down your moans when he lifted your dress around your stomach and—
A shiver of excitement coursed through Coriolanus’s body. What would your darling Sejanus think if he knew what just transpired? If he knew it was only for your dignity that Coriolanus wasn’t fucking you against the wall hard enough that you forgot where you even were?
You silently bid the party a farewell, forgetting to say goodbye to Sejanus (Coriolanus made no attempts to remind you). You continued to ignore him, hardly speaking and not even looking his way. Not as you walked from the school to the apartment. Stumbling up the stairs, you only spoke to claim you were fine as you gripped the handrail for dear life. Then you went back to silence as you traveled from the front door to your bedroom and locked the door.
Coriolanus only found out about the door because he’d tried to follow you in, but the door knob did not budge. You never used your lock.
Even if you weren’t ready to finish what had been started, it was still incredibly cold. Were you really upset enough to deprive him of your presence until the morning?
“What’s going on with you?” Coriolanus asked through the layer of wood. The taste of you still lingered on his tongue as it traced his bottom lip, waiting for your response. “Can we talk? Can you open the door?”
He gripped the knob tighter and tried again. It wasn’t going to suddenly unlock, but something urged him to prove it.
There was a faint thud as his forehead fell to the door, much as it had to yours not too long ago.
“Can I at least say goodnight to you?”
Again, no response.
He swallowed. Cleared his throat.
Again.
“Please?”
If they could afford to fix it, Coriolanus would break the door down.
He wasn’t sure how long he stood outside your door before begrudgingly going to his own room.
He laid in his bed and fished the underwear from his pocket. Your scent still lingered on them, and it was enough to fuel his imagination as he unbuttoned his pants and pretended his own hand on his cock was yours.
Even after finishing, Coriolanus had a nearly sleepless night. His mind was plagued with memories of his lips on yours, your dress bunched around your hips, him on his knees with his mouth on your cunt. He’d never forget the sounds you made.
When the sun rose, he returned to your door, only to find it still locked. He didn’t even knock, just simply grabbed the door knob and twisted.
You always woke up early for school, putting yourself together in a way that could reflect wealth that you did not truly have. Coriolanus was sure you did it for his sake, knowing how much appearances mattered to him.
You were good to him like that.
If only you’d let him in now.
The laugh that escaped him lacked humor. It was a bitter, frustrated sound.
His hands rested on his hips, his own fingertips pressing in. It was that or gripping the door knob and if he touched that thing again and found it locked…
“This isn’t funny anymore, Y/N,” Coriolanus called through the door. “If there’s a problem we can talk about it. Just stop acting like a child.”
“What, did she steal your blazer again?” Tigris wondered, appearing out of nowhere. Despite her voice being soft with sleep, Coriolanus was still startled.
“No, just a minor disagreement,” Coriolanus replied, quick on his feet as always. “Nothing to worry about, I’m sure we’ll talk it out.”
He emphasized the word ‘talk’, hoping you’d hear him through the door. If you did, he wouldn’t know. Tigris, on the other hand, just nodded and headed for the kitchen.
The smile he gave his cousin on her way was forced. She couldn’t tell that his teeth were clenched together, which was for the best.
A thought dawned on him. You could just be testing him.
Coriolanus knocked on the door and waited, like he’d just solved your puzzle.
What was that thing about insanity—trying the same thing over and over and expecting a different result?
“You’re going to have to come out of your room at some point,” he reminded, trying his best to make it not sound like a warning.
Coriolanus wasn’t used to being frustrated with you. You were usually his relief from people who made him feel this way. He didn’t understand why everything changed all of the sudden.
You’d enjoyed yourself while he got what he wanted. Why was that so bad?
You had always been an enigma, but Coriolanus felt as if he’d come to understand you—that he was the only one who did or would.
Sejanus would never know you the way he did, that was for certain.
From in your room, Coriolanus heard movement. Your dresser opening, maybe. It didn’t matter. You were awake. And ignoring him.
“Y/N? I know you’re awake.” The neediness in his voice was embarrassing. No one else could make him resort to this. “I can hear you. Are you coming out?”
“What is going on?” Grandma’am questioned, standing at the end of the hall. “You aren’t dressed for school. We can’t have you being late.”
Coriolanus looked down at himself. He’d gone to sleep in the outfit he’d worn the night before, and still wore it now.
Arguments died in his throat. You and Coriolanus walked to the academy together. You’d have to come out and talk to him. Grandma’am would drive you crazy if you missed a day of classes.
In record time, Coriolanus was in his uniform.
He might’ve been quick, but apparently you were quicker. As he opened the door to his room, he heard the front door shut.
“Whatever you did, Coryo, apologize,” Tigris advised when he chased the sound of your exit.
Coriolanus just looked at her. Why on Earth would he do that? He’d done nothing wrong.
Down the stairs and out of the building, Coriolanus finally—finally—got a glimpse of you. A flash of red as you turned the corner, setting off down the sidewalk.
It took nothing for him to catch up to you.
“How are you feeling?” he wondered first, recalling your drunken state. “I was worried about you.”
“Were you?” you challenged, eyes forward.
It was good to hear your voice, but Coriolanus furrowed his brows at your tone. You had no reason to be this rude.
“Of course I was, Y/N. How can you even ask me that?” His hand dropped to your shoulder, only for you to shrug it away. “What is wrong with you?”
You looked at him, finally, but the emotion in your gaze… there was something wrong with it. Something distant, lacking the affection those beautiful eyes of yours usually held for him.
Coriolanus swallowed.
“Are you really going to be like this? Is it because of Sejanus? You don’t have to be with him anymore.”
You turned your head forward.
“Leave me alone, I’d like to walk in silence.”
Since when had you become so spiteful? Coriolanus didn’t like it. It evoked something similar in him. He leaned down, getting near your ear.
“You liked it, I know you did,” he hissed out. Coriolanus hadn’t meant for it to come out so harsh, but you were being completely unfair to him right now. “You can’t lie to me.”
Despite the way you shuddered, your jaw remained clenched. You not talking to him was more infuriating than if you had screamed in his face. At least that way he could tell what you were thinking. But no, you wouldn’t allow him to be privy to your inner thoughts, no matter how much effort he put into prying them from you.
It wasn’t a conversation for the public, even Coriolanus knew that, so when you got to the academy a few steps ahead of him, he bit his tongue.
“What did you do to piss off your sister?” Clemensia asked him in a whisper in class. “You’re usually attached at the hip walking in.”
The way she called you his sister felt wrong in a way that it hadn’t before. Even if he never thought it fit when people would say that or assume it, something had shifted.
And was it that obvious? Coriolanus hadn’t even brought it up. He’d simply been a few steps behind you into the classroom. You’d gone to your desk without a word. Was that strange to everyone else too? It was validating, in a way, to know your behavior was, in fact, targeted and odd, but it also made him wonder what the two of you appeared to be from an outside perspective.
“It’s nothing,” Coriolanus lied to her under his breath, keeping his eyes on his paper.
“So you didn’t get into a fight?”
Coriolanus’s brows curved down. He glanced her way.
“A fight?”
“Arachne and Festus saw you pull her away from Sejanus and disappear somewhere last night.”
It was mostly the truth, but she said it so nonchalantly. She couldn’t know what happened after you disappeared. Coriolanus hadn’t seen a single person lay their eyes on either of you in that private moment.
“I get it,” she continued. “I wouldn’t want to be associated with someone from the districts either. She’s not thinking about how she’ll be perceived, or you. Don’t let her drag you down.”
Coriolanus just listened, the night flashing through his mind. No one could’ve known, there was no way.
He quickly corrected the hypocrisy in his own mind. He hadn’t done anything wrong, it was just private. No one else deserved to see you in that state—no one but him.
“We’re fine,” Coriolanus told her. “And her and Sejanus aren’t together anymore.”
Clemensia smirked to herself. “Good.”
Word spread quickly, and with the way you avoided Sejanus—a byproduct of you avoiding Coriolanus—everyone believed it. The final nail was the way you failed to appear at lunch. It got under Sejanus’s skin, causing him to question the state of your relationship without you to answer any said questions.
Truthfully, Coriolanus hadn’t seen anything as amusing in a long while, but your absence weighed on him, too.
The walk home alone was dreadful without you. Even in the morning when you had ignored him, it was better than you being completely gone.
When he got home, your door was shut. How quickly had you left your classes, how fast had you walked, all to avoid him?
This was growing old very, very quickly.
Grandma’am was on the roof with her roses, and Tigris seemed to be missing from the apartment. It was only because of that that Coriolanus devised a way to get into your room.
Why he didn’t think of picking the lock before, Coriolanus supposed it was because he thought you’d give in quicker and let him get the better of you. You were usually weak to him, allowing him to get his way without a problem. You had before.
“Last chance,” Coriolanus called through the locked door. He almost thought that would be enough. He wanted you to open it of your own will. “You can’t avoid me forever, just let me in.”
No such luck.
You looked surprised when he forced the door open, as if you really believed he would just take the loss. You were supposed to know him better than that.
You’d been sitting on your bed in pajamas, evidently already done with the day. Your legs were criss-crossed with a textbook in your lap. You looked up at him, a questioning expression taking over your features.
“What are you doing, Coryo?” you asked, voice low, eyes not quite meeting his directly.
“You weren’t opening the door.” Coriolanus squared his shoulders. “I wanted to talk to you.”
You shook your head, something between a sigh and a laugh escaping you in a puff of air. Coriolanus did not like the accusatory undertone.
“Did you think maybe I left it locked on purpose?” Were you mocking him? “That I wasn’t lying this morning and I really don’t want to speak to you?”
“That’s ridiculous,” Coriolanus insisted, closing your door behind him. He moved towards your bed, watching your body language the entire time as he finally sat on the edge beside you. “You thought I would just let you ignore me?”
You swallowed, closing the book in your lap. “I guess not,” you admitted, setting the textbook aside. “I am well aware of your ego.”
A frown crested Coriolanus’s lip. “Is that what this is—you want to hurt me?”
You tilted your head, catching his gaze, much like he’d made you do the night before. It was the first time in nearly a day since you’d looked him dead in the eye.
“What do you want, Coryo?”
“I want you”
“You want me to what? Not be with Sejanus? Is that it? Is that why you did what you did?”
“You say that like it was something awful. I was there too.” Coriolanus felt a familiar heat rush through him at the memory. “I know what I saw.”
“You humiliated me.”
“In front of who? No one saw us.”
“That’s not the point.”
“Then what is? Because you know Sejanus is weak?” Coriolanus searched your eyes and leaned in closer. He was feeling antagonistic. “I mean, how could he touch you, knowing I got there first?”
Coriolanus caught your hand as you raised it, presumably to strike him.
“Is that what we’ve resorted to?”
He squeezed your wrist, enough to cause pain. You winced and tried to move away, but Coriolanus wasn’t going to let you get away.
“I could ask you the same,” you sneered, sounding like an entirely different person.
“What has happened to you?” Coriolanus questioned. He took a breath. “Do you want me to be sorry for what I’ve said? Fine, then, I apologize. But I’m not sorry for what I’ve done. You should not be with him.”
“I’m supposed to believe someone driven by jealousy?” you inquired back, blinking back tears. Why were you being so dramatic? “How can I trust anything you have to say to me now?”
Coriolanus was taken aback by the question. Did you really not trust him anymore? Even with the tight hold on your wrist, he could feel you slipping from his grasp. If you were to leave him, he’d never forgive the universe for its twisted irony. Coriolanus put so much time and care into you because he wanted you. His family didn’t, at least not at first, but even so, you’d have nothing if it wasn’t for him. Is that what you wanted to leave him with now? Nothing? Nothing but the memory of when you were his?
No, that wouldn’t do.
It just wouldn’t.
“You can trust me, I promise,” Coriolanus insisted, pleading, even. “I love you, I always have—you can’t have expected me to sit back and do nothing while you…”
You looked more betrayed, if that was even possible. He was trying to make it better but explaining was only making it worse. Coriolanus had never met a person where the more he talked, the more he tried to persuade them, they believed him less. In that way again you were an anomaly.
If Coriolanus couldn’t tell you, he could show you. He had to make you understand—he could salvage this and get what he wanted in the end. If he was anything, it was persistent. It had worked before, excluding the aftermath.
Coriolanus moved, keeping his hold on your wrist as he shoved you down, pulling himself up and then on top of you in a fluid motion.
You squirmed, questioning, “What are you doing?”
Coriolanus caught your other hand and brought it to join your other wrist he already had a hold of in one hand. He straddled your waist, keeping your body pinned.
“You won’t listen to me,” he pointed out. Something inside him urged him to lean down. “But I can still prove it to you, that it’s me you should be with. No one else.”
Then he crashed his lips onto yours. It was more forceful than it had been the previous night, ensuring you couldn’t turn away again. His tongue was already in your mouth before you thought to turn your head.
It didn’t matter if you didn’t kiss him back, Coriolanus was in bliss. Your lips were soft, molding perfectly to his. You moaned into his mouth, or maybe it was a protest, but it made his body heat up all the same. Coriolanus couldn’t get enough of you. Last night left him wanting more, not less.
More than that, he was determined. When he finally detached his lips from yours, the both of you panting, Coriolanus set forth on a track that wouldn’t allow him to turn around.
Even if he tried to take it back, everything would already be changed.
So he didn’t even bother hesitating. Coriolanus was determined, even, at yanking your clothes from your body.
Your words were jumbled by the time they reached his ears. His own heart racing with excitement drowned out any requests you had for him.
The word “stop” left his vocabulary until you yelled it too loud for his liking.
Your whole body shook when he clapped his hand over your mouth. Your top was completely gone, your chest heaving as you breathed through your nose. While Coriolanus could’ve easily been distracted by your state, he trained his eyes on your wide ones.
The word helpless crossed his mind, and he had to take a moment to control himself.
“Grandma’am is upstairs,” Coriolanus finally warned, voice low. “Don’t disturb her.”
You blinked. Coriolanus was almost surprised by the way you settled down, but it told him you understood the implications of alerting her.
Your position beneath Coriolanus had to be better than starving and cold on the street, didn’t it?
You didn’t have Sejanus anymore. If you thought you did, Coriolanus would make sure to remedy that with his friend before you got to him first.
As Coriolanus lifted his hand from your mouth, he silently implored he was the only one who could save you from being branded a liar.
Just as Coriolanus had always admired, you were a quick learner. As heartbroken as you looked, you didn’t raise your voice again.
“This isn’t how you make me want to be with you,” you pleaded. Coriolanus wasn’t sure whether to laugh or take it as a challenge.
“We’ll see,” he mused in response.
He got you bare, and then himself.
You averted your eyes from his body, which offended him more than he thought it would.
“You can look,” Coriolanus said, voice heavy.
Something about his voice must’ve gotten to you, because your eyes flicked between his legs. You swallowed and looked back away.
A prideful smirk overtook Coriolanus’s face.
He moved then, still keeping hold on your wrists in one hand, dragging them down over your belly, and placed himself between your legs.
With one hand still holding your wrists, Coriolanus shoved his other hand in between your legs, two prodding fingers finding your entrance before making their way in. Eagerness won out over his patience. He could take things slow later.
You tensed around him, fighting the intrusion, but he wasn’t going to let you win. Even if you weren’t squirming against him, you were resistant. Coriolanus slowly worked at breaking your resolve, massaging his fingers inside your walls, thumb on your clit.
He could see shame wash over your features when a wetness began to form, coating his fingers and allowing him to work you open for him.
“See, you can lie to me, but your body can’t,” Coriolanus asserted, voice thick with arousal.
That triggered something in you, and perhaps Coriolanus reacted too harshly.
It felt like it all happened in a flash. One moment you were on your back, beneath him, clenching around his fingers, and the next he had to manhandle you onto your chest and knees to fend off your attack and keep you still. He regained his hold on your hands quickly, pinning them behind your back while you panted from the short lived exertion.
Coriolanus leaned down to press his lips to your ear.
“I thought we agreed you weren’t going to fight me,” he growled.
Your shoulders shifted as you found further discomfort in your new position, but you didn’t speak. You wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of your voice—just like before.
Coriolanus wanted to watch your face as you submitted to him and his love for you, but if this was the only way he could have you for now, so be it.
He lined himself up with your entrance, enjoying the twitch of your body as he pressed the tip in.
Despite all the effort to get you where you were now, Coriolanus slid his cock into you with ease. Your body welcomed him, even if you didn’t.
He couldn’t help himself, his hips bucked forward, shoving himself into you deep. You whimpered into the pillow and Coriolanus’s mind went blank for a moment, basking in the feel of your warm cunt around him. It was better than he imagined.
His cock twitched inside of you, eager to fill you, but he had to make this last. Just like before, Coriolanus wanted to make you feel good. So good you had no choice but to want him.
Coriolanus drew his hips back after a few moments of just resting inside you. When only the tip remained, he thrust forward. Your body rocked against the mattress.
He did it again, this time slower. Forcing you to feel the drag of his thick cock inside of you. Coriolanus liked the way your body quivered as you succumbed to the pleasure he could give you.
You felt like heaven, all wet and warm and squeezing around him in a way that made him want to never leave you.
To show he trusted you, Coriolanus let your hands go. They immediately fell to grip the pillow beneath your head. You didn’t go to fight him and that counted for something. He had an ulterior motive, though, because now he could hold your hips with both hands.
He leaned down, pressing kisses to your back. He ran his hands along your skin, drinking the entirety of you in as he moved inside of you.
His movements were a bit slow, calculated, making you feel every inch of him stretching you out. Coriolanus imagined you rocking your hips back, your moans filling the room, eager for more. That would have to be saved for another time when you were more willing.
You body tensed and shivered, and Coriolanus knew you were getting close. You still had yet to speak.
It was petty, the sudden sharp thrust of his hips to shove his cock deep and hard into you.
A gasp—he drew a gasp from you.
He allowed his weight to fully fall on top of you, finally. Your skin was so warm on his chest, it was as if your body was trying to burn him off of you. Maybe it was all in his head. But it didn’t really matter. It was far too late for that.
“It’s okay to want it,” Coriolanus muttered into your ear.
He felt your body reacting and you were moments away from what he’d been pushing you towards. His thrusts grew shallow, not letting too much of himself leave you as you finally came undone.
You buried your face into the pillow, muffling your cry as you finally came around his cock. It was then that he got what he wanted, even if it was only brief. Your body spasmed and pushed back, trying to feel every inch of him stretching you out, clenching down to hold him there.
Coriolanus followed you soon after, cock throbbing in your walls, spilling inside of you and painting them white. He held your hips so tight he was sure he’d leave bruises as he held himself still, letting the both of you experience the sensation in full.
After however long—Coriolanus didn’t count the minutes—he withdrew from your body. He was a gentleman, so he helped you to lay down before your body collapsed on its own.
He laid down beside you, pulling your blanket over the top of both of your bodies with the intention to bring you comfort.
You were wordless, rolling onto your side, facing away from him.
Coriolanus turned with you, wrapping his arms around your midsection and pulling you back to him. He pressed a kiss to the back of your head before resting his lips near your ear.
“Do you really think not talking to me is the best idea?” he whispered, less frustrated than before.
You shook in his arms, but your voice was steady as you asked, “What do you expect me to say to you?”
Coriolanus didn’t have to think all that long.
“That you love me.”
You were silent for a moment, Coriolanus thought he was going to have to repeat himself.
“I did love you,” you uttered, voice threatening to break. “But it wasn’t enough for you.”
Coriolanus could’ve been angry, but he knew he’d win you back. He had all the time in the world, knowing you wouldn’t dare continue your relationship with Sejanus. How could you? You were already spoken for.
You were Coriolanus’s, you always had been. He realized it before you, but he knew you’d come to learn the truth. You’d accept it eventually, and everything would fall into place exactly as he wanted.
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woso-dreamzzz · 3 months
Text
Injured (Alexia's Version): Future II
Alexia Putellas x Daughter!Reader
Summary: You go to Manuelas
TW: using sex to reinforce ideas of low self-worth, mentions of eating disorder
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You didn't come to Manuelas often.
It was a bad idea, drinking in the club Olga owned. All of the workers knew who you were, dragged out on staff dinners and in the background of Olga's video meetings.
There's no way you could get in without someone noticing who you were.
It's not that you were banned. If anything, Mami and Olga would probably prefer it if you did your drinking in the safe walls of Manuelas where the staff would call them if you needed a pick up.
It would be fine if drinking was all that you were doing.
But you don't go to clubs for the drinks. In fact, you don't even really like the taste of alcohol all that much. It was a means to an end, getting you tipsy enough to approach someone in the crowd. But that was only if you weren't approached first.
And you were almost always approached first.
It was easy now, a practiced routine.
You'd go into a club, hang around at the bar for a bit before going onto the dance floor where, no doubt, some older woman would come over and offer to buy you a drink.
It was practiced. It was easy.
It was self destructive.
You knew why you came to these clubs. You knew what you came there for.
You wanted it quick and rough. You wanted to be demeaned and talked down to because it made you feel better that you weren't the only one that saw yourself like that.
Hooking up in club toilets with a woman double your age that couldn't care less about you made you feel better at yourself.
You couldn't do that Manuelas.
Or, you couldn't do that at Manuelas on days when Olga or her close circle were skulking around, which was almost every weekend.
The only reason you were here now was because your usual club wasn't open today and after another day of brutal practice with no end in sight, you needed to feel something.
Even if it was some woman's hand around you as she took you hard and rough and whispered filthy things in your ear.
You should go home, you know. You should go home to your Mami and let her wrap you up in a warm hug and let her tell you that you were worth something and that she loved you.
But you were here.
At Manuelas on a day you knew Olga was at home and her closest staff were busy in a meeting in the back room.
Or, at least, they should be.
Alexia sighs as Olga pulls her in through the open backdoor.
"I am old, amor," She says with a small huff of laughter," My old bones cannot take going to the club anymore."
It's a joke, nothing more than teasing and Olga rolls her eyes.
"Not even my club?"
"Well," Alexia says," If it's your club..."
With Jaume at a youth camp for the week and you staying over at your friend's, the house had been blissfully silent and all too empty.
She and Olga had a nice dinner before growing restless. It didn't suit the family, Alexia thinks, to have the house devoid of her kids.
Olga wasn't due to go in to the meeting at Manuelas but that didn't mean she thought going there was a bad idea which was how Alexia found herself there now, nursing a drink in one hand and holding whatever fruity cocktail Olga had chosen in the other.
Manuelas had come a long way from the pop up club it used to be, now boasting several permanent bases in the country. Alexia was still glad though that one thing stayed the same - namely the fact that she got free drinks.
It certainly payed to be the wife of the owner.
Olga's gone off to greet a few people upstairs, despite denying the fact that this was all a ploy to see how the meeting was going.
Alexia's left downstairs by herself and does what she does best.
People watch.
Manuelas is still exactly like it was when it was first opened, a throng of dancers grinding and making out on the dancefloor.
The same as practically every other lesbian club in the city.
There's nothing unusual about it but Alexia still leans against the bar and surveys the crowd.
There's movement (or rather more movement than normal) to the left of the crowd as a pair breaks out of the dancing.
It's hard to see in the low light but Alexia feels a bolt of lightning shoot down her spine before she's even computed what she's looking at.
You're pressed up against the wall, head tilted to the side as a woman kisses your neck.
You're meant to be at a friend's house. That's what you've told Alexia.
You were going over to a friend's house after practice and you would be staying the night.
But clearly, you're not because you're here.
At Olga's club with a woman that is so clearly not your age whispering filthy things to you.
Alexia's moving towards you without a second thought and you open half lidded eyes to look at her.
You jolt suddenly, straightening up and pushing the woman away from your neck when you notice Alexia there.
She's not meant to be here and you look around wildly because you know if Mami's here then Olga's around here somewhere too.
Your face floods with embarrassment and you leave your partner for the evening.
Even now, Alexia's angry face makes you feel like a little girl again. Like that same little girl who sat in her car seat after another failed football training.
Like the same stupid teenager who starved herself to fit into a shirt that Alexia accidentally bought one size too small.
"Mami..." You say, throat bobbing," I-"
"Are you okay?" Alexia asks you, cupping your face," Are you safe?"
"Mami...I..."
"Bambi," Alexia says, her eyes boring into yours," Talk to me. Are you alright?"
"I..." Your throat bobs and you're right back to that little girl again, the one staring up at Alexia as she grins down at you, that stupid teenager that had once sobbed in her arms after hurting your ankle during practice. "I want to go home, Mami. Please take me home."
Alexia looks into your eyes. You're not drunk, maybe a little tipsy but definitely not drunk. You're not high either. No one's laced anything you've taken.
You're still trembling though and your head falls forward onto Alexia's shoulder, to hide the way tears fall down your cheeks.
You don't know why you're crying. You don't know why you're suddenly so emotional.
You'd set out this evening to hook up with someone, feeling so bad and wrong in your own skin that you needed someone's body pressed up against yours to feel good about yourself again.
You still want that. Just not with a partner.
You want a hug from Mami, curled up next to her in bed at home. You want her to hold you and tell you how much she loves you and how she's never going to let anything bad happen to you.
You're an adult now.
You shouldn't feel this way.
But you're always going to be that little girl that craved love from your Mami.
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lovebugism · 2 years
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I can't stop thinking about the look Eddie would give you when you flip him over after he comes on top of you and then ride him for the next round 😏
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✶ ┄ PRETTY BOY !
summary: eddie munson was yours. so it was only right to fuck him like he belonged to you. pairing: eddie munson / f!reader warning: smut! smut! smut! 18+ mdni a/n: i haven't stopped thinking about this request since i got it so now i have to make it everyone else's problem too <3 thanks for the request, anon! enjoy!
( EDDIE MASTERLIST ) ( MAIN MASTERLIST )
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eddie’s always so pretty when he comes
you swear watching him is almost better than the sex
you’re on your back with your legs thrown over his shoulders and he grips your thighs for leverage while he fucks you through your first orgasm and then some
a lazy, fucked out smile pulls at your lips as you watch him drill into you
he’s totally lost in his pleasure
his pink, kiss-bitten mouth is parted to let all of his pretty little moans slip out
he’s babbling total nonsense entwined with mutters of your name
“god you’re so pretty, baby”
“this pussy— fuck— this pussy is so good... always so good to me.”
“fuck, baby, you’re gonna make me come” 
a primal feeling of innate possessiveness settles in the pit of your stomach
because you can’t believe this beautiful boy is yours
you watch attentively as his long lashes flutter shut and his nose scrunches
you feel the way his fingers dig into your thighs, tighter and tighter the closer he gets to his peak
eddie all but buries himself inside of you when he comes
he lets out a guttural moan as his hips still against you, balls warm and wet against the skin of your ass
you’re moaning right along with him and shivering at the warm feeling of him filling you
he drops your legs and settles on top of you, holding his weight on his forearms
you wrap your legs around him to keep him sheathed inside of you
eddie trembles like a leaf above you while you milk him for all he’s worth
“oh fuck— fuck— i think i’m… shit. i’m still coming, baby, holy shit—”
he’s still bottomed out inside of you and pressing further and further into you
forcing you to feel every warm load of come he spits into you
and it’s the most exhilarating feeling
to know that you’re making your boy come harder than he ever has in his life
it sobers you from your pleasure ever so slightly because you realize you’re not done with him yet
not even close
it’s easy to flip him over and onto his back because he isn’t expecting it at all
an audible gasp leaves his mouth when his back hits the mattress
you settle on top of him before he can blink
his hands shoot to your waist when you start grinding against him, your clenching walls hugging his twitching cock
he watches with wide, twinkling brown eyes while you ride him
if he were capable of forming words, he’d call you a minx
say you just had to be a succubus with the way you’re fucking him just now
but he can’t do much more than let you ride him for all he’s worth
his legs are shaking and his mind is floating lightyears away by the time you're finished with him
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lyneira · 2 months
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♡ "you're so handsome" ♡
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-> how the genshin impact men react when you call them handsome
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Knows it
Kaeya, Heizou, Childe, Lyney
This guy has 100% confidence in himself and has likely already heard it from others, so he'd probably give you a smug grin and say, "I know, thanks". Don't be instantly dismayed though, he still appreciates the comment more than you may think.
Having the compliment come from your mouth is worth much more to him than hearing it from anybody else or even himself. He may be confident in himself, but he also cares about you and about what you think of him. Hearing you say that he's handsome out loud eases him and makes him feel content.
He'd still act cheeky though, saying a comment like, "you're not too bad looking yourself, either", winking, then giving you a playful kiss.
Wants you to tell him that everyday
Itto, Venti, Kaveh
You've awakened something in him, and now he needs to hear those words everyday. He'll be just like a puppy. He'll melt if you suddenly hold his face with both hands and ask, "who's the most handsome in all of Teyvat?", and watch as his eyes brim with excitement and love, "ME. IT'S ME!!" And if you forget to tell him, he won't hesitate to remind you
"Y/N, tell me again- Who am I?"
Initially, you'll be like ???, but then realize what he's trying to get at
"You're my handsome guy"
"YESSSS" and he'll get excited all over again, just as the first time, and pull you into the biggest hug.
Gives a simple "thank you"
Cyno, Albedo, Wriothesley, Tighnari
They'll say thank you, seemingly nonchalantly, but he'll hold onto that compliment for the rest of the day...or week...or month...they'll hold on to that compliment forever, really. Your words will replay in their mind, 'they called me handsome', and he'll feel so warm inside.
Returns the compliment
Ayato, Neuvillette, Zhongli, Thoma, Baizhu, Kazuha
It will actually take him by surprise a bit. He wasn't expecting to be complimented, but the gesture warms his heart, especially since it's coming from his beloved. He'll smile at you, bringing up a hand to hold the side of your face, "And you're beautiful, my dear", before giving you a kiss, "a kiss for my beautiful one"
Doesn't really care
Alhaitham, Dainsleif, Diluc
I get a sense that these guys don't care about looks at all, so the compliment wouldn't produce a big reaction from them tbh. Then again, it reassures him of how you adore him and find him attractive, so he'll show his gratitude maybe by patting your head, giving you a quick kiss, and saying a quick "thanks"
Gets flustered
Xiao, Gorou, Scaramouche
A light blush will appear on their cheeks the moment you tell them that. They're not used to being complimented like that after all. but they feel good about it.
"Well, thanks...I guess", is all they can make out in response because he's too busy processing these new, mushy feelings whenever you compliment him.
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a/n: some of these felt a bit repetitive and some of them felt like they were miscategorized or mischaracterized tbh 🥲 I'm kinda rusty, but I've had this in my drafts since last year so I thought that I might as well finish it lol
© 2023 lyneira. PLEASE DO NOT COPY, PLAGIARIZE, OR REPOST MY WRITING ONTO OTHER PLATFORMS
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anika-ann · 2 months
Text
A Series of (Un)Fortunate Events - S.R.
Part 1 of 2
Type: two-shot, idiots-in-love, feel-good fic
Pairing: Steve Rogers x reader   Word Count: 7,3k
Summary:  It's just a bunch of Avengers and SHIELD agents who often cooperate on missions - hanging out and getting to know each other better on a camping trip. What could possibly go wrong?
A few things. A few things could and they all seem to have you at the centre. Luckily, you have a hero in shining armour to help you in the time of need.
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Warnings: allusions to NSFW, minor injuries, mention of misogyny, brief reference to PTSD, language, attempt at humour, FLUFF , Steve being a menace
A/N: written for the Essie’s Summer Lovin’ 300 Follower Celebration. Congrats @bigtreefest and thank you for hosting 💕 I have chosen multiple prompts - in this one, you shall find “why’s it…sticky?” and modified “here, you can share with me”. I hope to finish the second part in time 😁
A/N 2: DIVIDER by @firefly-graphics; enjoy y'all 🥰 Several Agent of SHIELD characters are involved - I don't think you need any knowledge of the show to read this
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The afternoon North Carolina sun warmed your skin pleasantly, even as you found yourself panting after the having climbed up the hill you. The backpack with an attached sleeping bag and a tent pack was growing heavier and heavier on your shoulders with every step, but the view and the company – most of it anyway – were certainly worth it.
Everyone seemed affected by the fresh air and exercise the Great Smokey Mountains provided, the atmosphere light and content as this was, for most, the first trip in a long time that had nothing to do with a mission.
Sure, one could argue there were some strings attached, as the ‘mission’ was to solidify relationships within the group – several Avengers and several SHIELD agents who were often outsourced for Avengers-level missions – but still: no one was shooting at you. And you wouldn’t have to write a report. That counted for something. For a lot, in fact.
Plus, the path was the goal. The destination, while set precisely according to Steve’s plan, might as well be just about anywhere.
You glanced at him as he walked by your side, smiling absently. The corners of his lips only twitched higher as he noticed you watching him, his gaze flickering to you as well.
He looked as if he was born to do this. A halo of dark blond hair around his head ruffled by the wind, sunlight painting them almost golden. The heaviest backpack of all sitting on his wide shoulders, straps around his broad chest and thin waist. Legs clad in light track pants that hugged his thighs and ass in the best way possible, a downright magnetic sight--- no.
Uh-huh, no.
No thoughts of that sort. You had forbidden yourself from that, at least for the duration of this trip, because you had known Steve would be a literal walking thirst-trap, the sheer happiness surrounding him making his glow ten times brighter. You had forbidden yourself from thinking like this, because this was not an appropriate observation to make about a colleague, a superior no less, even as everybody else probably thought along the same lines.
It didn’t matter that you wanted to throw hands at the mere idea of someone else making that observation as well. You didn’t exactly have the right to do that and it was a lost fight before it even started. Steve Rogers was simply too beautiful and essentially perfect in all his imperfections, and god knew that those imperfection had nothing to with his body. Ass included-
Gaze quickly snapping up back to his face, you found him smiling at you warmly, a soft dusting of freckles adorning his cheeks from the prolonged exposure to sun. The same phenomenon could be observed on his bare arms; a constellation of freckles, where angels had kissed their kindest, prettiest and most loyal creation; a constellation of places where you’d love to press your lips and linger, breathe in the scent of his skin and taste it.
God, he was breathtaking and all kinds of alluring. The nature around you was too, sure, the smell of pines and sandy rocks whispering of vacations and good times, but the way he-
“Whoa!” you yelped as you suddenly found yourself tumbling towards the ground, foot having slipped on a rock, you supposed.
Hands outstretched, you had no chance to break the fall, only to slow it, the burden on your back completely changing your momentum.
The second your palms as much as brushed the rocky floor, you were being held by your waist so firmly that none of your actual weight landed on the ground. You would recognize the arms holding you anywhere – just like the scent of sandal wood, musk, man and comfort, suddenly wrapping around you.
The safest place on Earth.
Steve’s arms.
Your stomach made a little flip-flop as his hands squeezed you gently and helped you up, only releasing you when his eyes found yours, silently asking if you were okay.
You responded with an embarrassed smile.
“Whoa, you okay?” Daisy rushed to your side, bless her, breaking the brief moment you had allowed yourself to bask in the sweet worry in Steve’s gaze and in the heat his body was radiating, despite the fact you could feel everyone staring at the newly nominated klutz of the group of superspies. You.
Heat of embarrassment flooded your skin under everyone’s scrutiny – and more so under the judgement in Agent Hopkinson’s glare, the jerk. Then again, you could hardly blame him for looking down on you right now.
Allegedly one of the deadliest agents known to the world; bested by a few rocks on a hiking trail and Steve Rogers’s smile.
You chuckled self-deprecatingly, quietly thanking Steve and turning to Daisy to assure her that besides your pride, nothing had been seriously wounded.
“I’m fine,” you said, scratching your forehead with a poor attempt to hide your embarrassment. “Must have missed a step, I don’t even know how…”
You did know how. You knew it precisely. You hadn’t been watching your step, too mesmerized by the beauty of your favourite Captain – and favourite person in the world. The man with the most honest, goodest, fiercest and most beautiful soul you had ever met, your closest friend.
“I do,” Agent Melinda May commented dryly, a pointed look aimed at your feet, revealing the culprit – and making you wish the Earth could swallow you, especiallysince it was her, the second in command at SHIELD – and one of the most admirable women in history of anything. And she had just seen you, an agent for both Avengers and SHIELD, a master of martial arts, to trip on nothing like a five-year-old. For the same reason too. “Your shoelaces are undone.”
“…thanks. And sorry. Go ahead. I think I can tie my shoelaces on my own,” you chuckled again, swallowing the shame even as you were among friends. Albeit some of them more reluctant than others.
“Clearly not,” Agent Hopkinson remarked, not missing the opportunity to belittle you, making you sigh as you crouched down, taking extreme care not to as much as wobble despite the heavy backpack.
Case on point, you supposed.
Having worked for SHIELD for years now, acting as the main liaison for situations where Avengers needed help, be it due to too many hostiles or the nature of the job leaning more towards spy-work that alien-invasion-work, your general experience was that tolerance and cooperation were the way. Some people were less pleasant than others, that much was true, but one should handle disagreements, various personality traits and different views on life. You certainly could; your approach to conflict, your supposedly calming presence and search for harmony in a team and the calm composure you maintained under pressure to quickly weigh your options, had even earned you your codename, Libra.
You genuinely believed tuning down an attitude for the sake of the mission was the custom, the golden rule.
And then you encountered Agent Martin Hopkinson. He was the exception. And a pain in your ass.
He got along alright with most people despite his arrogance; but you and him were a trainwreck happening in slow motion. He did not like you. Whether it was jealousy of your position, misogyny, or both, or something completely else, you wouldn’t know. But he was bitter and biting, always looking for a flaw, always making snidey comments.
You could handle that – an insult here, a mean comment there. After all, you could take a punch, a stab, a gunshot wound. You could take down men twice your size with your bare hands and just a little wit, if you tried hard enough. You had faced soldiers, rapists, murderers; Agent Hopkinson was but a small hindrance, annoyance on legs. But by god, your fists itched whenever he opened his mouth. And the feeling was mutual.
However, as a professional, you worked hard not to reciprocate his aggression, even as it only ever remained verbal; the same could not be said about him. And he didn’t care zilch about who heard him be ‘smart’ with you either, which, in turn, led to several reprimands; and on one delightful occasion, to Steve almost breaking his jaw when he heard him utter a comment about Coulson pimping out the pet agent again, clearly meaning you. The wrath Steve had showed was nothing hort of holy, and holy was the miracle that Hopkinson was still alive; the fact he barely toned down his attitude was just idiocy.
But had you mention Steve was an angel? A fiercely loyal protective friend, a gentleman, who might swear on occasion and be a little shit par excellence, but god should help anyone whose behaviour towards others offended him. He might be an angel, but was an avenging one.
A caring one too.
As soon as you stood up again, Steve was carefully cradling the backs of your hands, examining the teeny scrapes over your palms with about five droplets of blood in total, frowny gaze flickering to your knee which you hadn’t even realized you had grazed too.
“We should disinfect that.”
“Steve, I’m fine,” you laughed, even as you let him examine the barely-there bleeding, knowing there was no use trying to resist. “Thank you for caring, but it’s literally just a scratch… I’ve had worse.”
He shook his head, his expression darkening a bit. “That’s not comforting and you know it. And any wound, if infected, can be dangerous – I know I don’t have to tell you that.”
You knew instantly what instance he was referring too, a small shudder running up your spine. Yet, the rational part of you argued that there was no comparison, even if the cut on your arm over a month back had not been all that deeper and wider than this.
“That was literally a poisoned blade, Steve-“
“We were about to take one more break before reaching the destination anyway,” he interrupted you, unrelenting. “Let’s head up to that clearing and we’ll rest for a bit. I’ll take care of it, okay?”
“Steve-“
“I’ve got the first aid kit,” Bobbi uttered nonchalantly as she passed you, joining the others who had gone ahead already.
You sighed. Bobbi Morse – an agent with a clever sense of humour, sharp tongue and no-nonsense attitude, a good friend – and she was using all of her powers against you. Wicked.
“It’s just a-“
“Captain’s orders,” she almost sing-sang, earning a grin from Daisy who only shrugged, as if to confirm her words.
You sighed, rolling your eyes; acutely not aware that Steve was still holding your hands in his and your body was heating up from inside at the prolonged contact – particularly your chest and something deep within your belly.
You looked up at him, mildly annoyed and rather amused at his insistence and protectiveness. And even though you wouldn't admit that out loud, touched.
“You’re overbearing. You’re lucky I like you,” you scolded him in a whisper.
He only grinned, his worried gaze clearing and lightning up at your feigned outrage, and squeezed your hands before letting go.
“I love you too. Let’s go.”
You bit your cheek as you nodded, reminding yourself for at least the tenth time since you had set off hiking: friends. The keyword of this trip was ‘friends’.
It was just really hard to actually remember that when Steve looked at you like that, talked like that, and you could still feel the warm imprint of his hands on yours.
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Steve Rogers was a man impossible not to fall for; from almost absurd handsomeness to even more absurd goodness he lived by, from his sharp wits to effective moves, from the crinkles in his eyes when he smiled to the tenderness in his touch. His sense of humour equalled to the one of duty, his drive and determination in leading interlacing with a soul of an artist and a simple man who appreciated the most ordinary things.
You had clicked instantly; your friendship bloomed almost effortlessly, working alongside him making for many opportunities to spend time together. Despite barely having met about three months ago, the times you owed him your life for were numerous; and the few times he owed you his, even as there was no such thing as keeping score, only strengthened your bond. Moments where you thought you wouldn’t make it out. Long nights at motels or in a stake-out cars, filled with mindless chatter, profound talks and comfortable silences. His goddamn smiles alone, always feeling a little warmer, fonder, when directed at you.
The fact he had quickly slipped into a habit of calling you Lee, a nickname derived from your codename with a wordless implication of you being his refuge, with that damn smile on his plush lips, was making something in your ribcage tremble with affection.
You had fallen hard. But who wouldn’t? You were only human.
And his proximity, his friendship, his affection, they were most precious to you; no matter which form they’d have, you’d take it.
Even if it meant inappropriate thoughts and your heart racing fast enough to collapse from exhaustion when he cleaned your scraped knee and palms with such care and focus one might believe they were fatal wounds.
Your heart would tremble less if he hadn’t kneeled in front of you as he did so, but you supposed Steve Rogers was just that kind of deadly. He cradled your hands in his huge ones as if they were as fragile as butterfly wings, smiling when he was done; and grinning when you said Thank you, nurse Rogers, the words carrying both humour and respect for his late mother.
His smile resembled the sun so much you almost missed how the actual sunrays grew less and less warm. It was only a few minutes later – every one of them making you aware of the either knowing or incredulous looks following yours or Steve’s every move, almost enough to make you self-conscious when snacking – when you realized you were getting cold.
The solution was easy; and despite how effective it would have been in chasing away the cold and lifting your spirits, it did not involve hugging Steve. Instead, you dived your hand down your backpack through the layer of snacks and other small necessities towards your clothes for the occasion.
And your hand reached something it most definitely shouldn’t have.
“What the-“ you murmured, still acutely aware of all the gazes on you, now joined by Steve’s. “Why is it… sticky?”
Puzzled and horrified – and suspicious, because Hopkinson might have never played a prank on you, but lines always had to be crossed for the first time someday – you threw out the things from the top, pulling out what was normally one of your favourite sweatshirts.
Fairly soaked in a rusty-red oily substance that now resided in your luggage.
Not that it hadn’t been there before – but before, it was safely stored in a Tupperware container along with the thin marinated steaks you had been tasked to carry for the team’s first dinner above fire, Hunter carrying the grate.  
“What is it?” Bobbi asked, frowning at the poor article of clothing you had intended to wear.
You didn’t have to sniff it to answer; mostly because the scent of spices was strong enough to answer for you.
“It’s the… marinade from our dinner,” you informed her with a grimace, a small whine escaping you as you went to inspect the rest of your clothes with dread and irritation rising. Because you already knew that the sweatshirt would not be the only thing having been hit. There had been enough to marinade to drown Steve and Bucky in – that was why you had triple-checked it was secured when you had pulled the straw for carrying it in your backpack. “How is that even possible?! I swear I checked it at least five times! I used rubber bands and a plastic bag and- ugh.”
“It probably gave out with all the moving around,” Natasha said, compassion evident in her voice. “I’m sorry.”
“It’s fine,” you sighed.
And it was. You were only just beginning to feel the mountains part of your destination. You weren’t even shivering – and god knew you had been exposed to much worse conditions with fewer clothing. It wasn’t even raining. You had been through much worse – this was but an inconvenience.
Kinda like Hopkinson himself.
Your gaze flickered to him as he himself put on a thin hoodie, your gaze narrowing in subtle suspicion; but there was no way. He almost looked as if he was pitying you. Genuinely. Though not enough to share his clothes; not that you’d accept if he had offered. But that was beside the point. The point was he probably wasn’t to be blamed for your current misery. Not where marinating your clothes was concerned anyway.
It was probably all on you. It seemed your Tupperware skills still needed some work. Goddamnit.
“It is fine,” you spoke to yourself more than anyone else. “I’ll walk the cold off and then stay close to the fire-“
Your heart skipped a beat as you felt a presence by your side, a large navy-blue hoodie entering your sight; it was as if talking about your potential inconvenience summoned him.
An angel by your shoulder.
With a soft frown and a welcoming smile, he set the hoodie next to you as your hands still held onto your tainted clothes.
“Hey… here, you can have mine.”
You opened your mouth to protest, the words dying in your throat when you met Steve’s gaze. The golden hour had arrived, highlighting the freckles and the god-like warm glow of his smile. Your fingers reflexively twitched in the fabric of the t-shirt in your hands as the urge to run them through Steve’s hair instead hit you like a sledgehammer.
Friends, you reminded yourself again. FRIENDS.
He was offering a friendly gesture. It was no different than borrowing boxing wraps from Hunter for training if yours had torn, borrowing a dress from Natasha because none of yours fit the theme of a party, or borrowing heels from Daisy because they matched better than anything you owned. There was nothing special about this and no one would think twice.
Yet, it was a gesture you had to turn down, no matter how gentlemanly it was – no matter how at home you knew you’d feel in that hoodie. The idea alone was tickling along the most sensitive parts of your body and for that alone you should refuse.
“Thank you, Steve… but that wouldn’t be fair,” you said. “You shouldn’t be cold because of me.”
Plus, I know this one is your favourite, you wanted to say, but bit your tongue, aware that the scene was already out-of-chart intimate as it was. It certainly felt like it.
“I won’t. You know I run pretty hot…”
You are hot, you wanted to say – but a little choked noise from Hopkinson and Bucky had you quickly set your mind straight.
Until Steve pulled out the big guns – rather literally. Long fingers wrapped around your bare forearm, goosebumps erupting on your skin despite the nearly burning sensation, breath catching. It did not help the situation that something you didn’t dare to identify for the sake of your sanity flashed in Steve’s eyes when he touched you.
Friends. Friends, friends, FRIENDS-
“See. All warm. And it will stay that way even without a hoodie. Take it. Please,” he added. And soon, a content smile appeared on his face, because he recognized the signs of you yielding.
A girl had to pick her battles. Arguing with Steve was not one of those which you had no chance at winning – it would be like trying to move a ton-worth block of concrete with bare hands. You had enough experience with that – fighting with Steve on the matter of your comfort, not moving concrete – and there was no winning. He respected your choices, yes, but he’d fastened straps of a parachute on you himself if it came to it, even if it meant he wouldn’t have one himself; he was a sweet hypocrite like that.
“Fine,” you sighed, smiling just a bit. “If you insist… thank you.”
“My pleasure.”
You would swear you heard at least three people mutter under their breath: I bet.
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Thoroughly warm and comfortable despite the numerous miles in your feet and tens of pounds on your back, you trailed behind Hunter and Bobbi, who were fighting animatedly – and most lovingly – about which European brand beer was the finest. For a couple who had been married and divorced, once talking about each other in not so nice terms including Bobbi being called ‘a demonic hell-beast’, they sure appeared very much in love – but every bit professional when it counted. They were lucky to find each other again, that was for sure. It made one long for a love like that; explosive as they were, you wouldn’t shy away from calling them soulmates. They belonged with each other; they were lucky to have find one another.
As you tugged at the sleeves of the hoodie you were wearing, long to easily hide your palms, you wondered if you were being lucky or cursed on this trip so far. Tripping. Spilling sauce onto your clothes. Withstanding Hopkinson’s moody glares of which exactly one resembled a shred of compassion and only lasted until you put on the hoodie of the Captain America himself. And yet, surrounded by colleagues, friends and Steve, on a trip with a sun that had slowly begun its descent at your back, you had to count your blessings.
Lucky. You were luckier than most.
Daisy had joined you for a bit, walking side by side with you when the path allowed it, meaningless chatter altering with meaningful; a natural course of conversation between close friends who were together for a few hours with nothing else to do but take it step by step, literally, admire the nature and talk.
Steve had promised it would only take less than an hour and you’d make it to where you were supposed to set camp. He had fallen behind, walking with Natasha and Bucky, who, judging by his tone and Steve’s groans, roasted the team captain about something with Natasha’s occasional but effective help.
Now, about what you assumed was twenty to thirty minutes later, the last challenge of today’s journey awaited you; fording a river.
A rather cold river.
The weather was nice, sure, and you were having a good time; but the idea of warding through water reaching your thighs was not all that alluring.
But of course, Steve Rogers was the man with a plan.
Walking down the river and finding a relatively shallow section of the river with several large rocks, all you had to do was to step from one slightly slippery stone to another without face-planting or letting your heavy backpacks break your balance. Easy – or it should be for a group of athletic agents.
Yet, Bucky and Steve were discarding their shoes in a blink, rolling up their pant legs, ready to dip in and get wet so other wouldn’t.
Your heart skipped a startled beat, a lump growing in your throat, as you watched Steve regard his friend, already knee-deep in water, with the tinniest bit of hesitance.    
Cold water. Cold water.
In the early June, the water couldn’t be colder than fifty, fifty-five degrees; but if the supersoldiers planned to stand there until all of you crossed the not-so-unsignificant distance while they’d assist, they would certainly feel it. And while history taught you both Steve and Bucky could clearly take the cold better than anyone, the idea of being the person knee-deep in the water was anything but pleasant.
Especially to someone who had already laid his life by diving a plane into icy waters of the North Atlantic.
Without a second thought, you left the line forming at the best crossing point, walking down the bank to crouch at Steve’s side.
He noticed your presence in an instant, snapping his head to you, an all-easy smile forming on his lips. As if you couldn’t see the brief flash of anxiety before he hid it. As if you couldn’t see his carotid pulsing wildly. As if he, the supposedly fearless man to all, could hide the one flicker of apprehension he allowed himself to feel from you.
“Are you sure about this, Steve?” you asked, voice as low as possible as not to attract attention.
As you met his gaze, understanding flashed in his eye. A silent conversation; he knew why you came to him, where your concern came from.
And in a very Steve Rogers fashion, he ignored it. He just gulped and squared his shoulders and rose to his feet, suddenly towering over you again.
“Of course I am.” Of course he was. “It will be much easier than all of us fording through.”
You sighed, looking at him pointedly as you swallowed your irritation – and worry. That was not what you were questioning and he knew it. And you weren’t questioning his dedication or his ability to help either; just the decision to put himself through discomfort anyone else could have taken upon themselves, when it meant more hardship for him than others.
“I know. It just… it can be literally anyone else-- hell, I can do it.”
You could. You’d warm up after soon enough, judging by the terrain awaiting you. It was a better option that him going in there to freeze his toes off at and bring him back to--
To prove your point, you reached for the backpack buckles on your belly to take it off.
Steve’s hand was on your forearm stopping you before you could undo a single one, squeezing.
As your head snapped back to his face, there was a little crack through the mask he had put on, showing just the slightest hint of anxiety now. But there was a fresh wave of warmth in his expression too; gratitude lit up the blue of his irises the way the sun lit up the summer skies, dreamy and sweet.
His thumb pressed into your forearm gently, stroking, reassuring. You felt the tension melt from your shoulders faster than a butter on the stove, something stirring deep inside your bones as you took a shaky inhale.
“Thank you, Lee, but I’ll be fine,” he said, one of his eyebrows arching, a little quirk to his lips. “And we don’t want to undo the work the hoodie has done on you.”
Right. The hoodie. His hoodie.  Yes, you were very much aware you were still wearing it, while he remained in a t-shirt that was at least one size too small for him and did all things delightful for his already insanely impressive physique.
Not the point.
You opened you mouth to argue, only to be interrupted by a shout from behind you.
“Oi, punk! You gonna help or just stand there enjoying the view?”
As you both turned to Bucky, you could see him helping Agent May cross the river, already halfway through.
Steve let go of your forearm, smiling at you once more.
“At least take the hoodie,” you insisted. He shook his head, your mouth opening on empty, deeming your effort fruitless.
“I have a jacket if I want… don’t need the hoodie,” he assured you, his grin earning a glint of danger that made your stomach flip-flop funnily, the heat in your abdomen burning hotter. “Plus, it looks much better on you.”
With that, he set off, jogging towards the water, and leaving you stand there with cheeks exploding with heat.
Damn you, Steven Grant.
Shaking your head, you returned to the line, anxiously watching Steve climb down into water, a shudder running down his spine.
“Come on. I saved you a spot,” Daisy said, gesturing for you to stand in front of her, earning an eyeroll from Hopkinson who stood behind her. “Everything okay with you and Steve?”
The phrasing had your head snap up with a startle, heart speeding up.
“What?”
What did she mean by that?! You and Steve?
No. There was you. There was Steve. Two separate entities. Friends.
Checking up on each other. Wearing each other’s clothes. Typical friends.
You relaxed when all you found in Daisy’s gaze was genuine care and curiosity, no trace of implying anything. Right.
You smiled back. “Yeah. Everything’s fine.”
Hunter and Bobbi followed after May; then it was your turn. The sight of the river, while beautiful, got a little less pleasant as you stepped on the first stone, testing just how slippery the surface was. It wasn’t awful – you could handle that, even as you felt the extra load on your back disturbing your balance.
But hey – the worst that could happen was you taking a cold bath. Just another inconvenience, right?
Yet, you didn’t have to worry. You didn’t even make it to the second large stone when a familiar pair of warm hands wrapped around yours, offering a gentle but firm support.
You met Steve’s reassuring gaze, a message without words: I’ve got you. You’re safe with me.
You send one back, squeezing his hands: I know. You makeme feel safe. You okay?
A tiny nod on his part and then you were on your way, careful taking step after step, always testing the surface first, making sure your every move was secure before shifting your weight. From one to another, you made it halfway to the deepest part of the crossing without any issue, actually enjoying the little adventure – which had obviously nothing to do with Steve’s touch, because you were not at all disappointed to see Bucky heading back from the other side of the river where he had left Bobbi to take you off of Steve’s hands. Not at all.
You were just stepping on the next stone when you felt a sudden drop in weight on your shoulders and back, an embarrassing yelp erupting from your throat as you scrambled for balance.
A fleeing thought of this trip being cursed for you indeed flashed through your mind as you braced yourself for the impact into cold water despite still trying not to have it come to that.
And it didn’t.
A splash sounded next to you, a few drops cooling your ankle, but that was it; you stood tall and firm on the irregularly-shaped stone, a hot vice of a grip on your hips, your hands having found purchase on just as hot and solid surface nearby.
Steve’s hands securely holding your hips.
Your hands on his shoulders.
Attentive blue eyes looking up at yours to assure both you and himself that you were okay.
Your face heated up, but the rest of your body was set on fire; indecent images of a wholly different situation with Steve’s hands having a steel-like grip on your hips and his eyes boring into yours flooded your mind, a wildfire of visceral need spreading through every single cell of your body and lightning it up. Steve was all about touch. Steve was all about eye-contact. You knew with absolute certainty that he’d never once let his gaze wander from your face when he’d sheathed himself inside you, feasting his eyes, because he lived for capturing images of beauty and he was a giver, the pleasure of people he loved being his own--- and you wouldn’t dare to look away. Your eyes might flutter shut at the sensation of utter-
Forcing yourself to snap back into present – into reality –, looking everywhere but at Steve as your whole body burned, a floating object caught your eye behind Steve’s back. A dark prolonged object, neatly packed, carried away by the stream.
Your tent. The thing that had fallen into water and nearly knocked you off balance was your tent, slowly sinking lower and lower as it slowed down its path down the river.
Great. Really great.
You were fucked.
How did it even-
“I got it!” Bucky hollered, changing course, heading to retrieve what was supposed to be the roof over your head for the next three days.
He’d get it; you weren’t worried. It was fine.
And the tent would be fine too. It was in the waterproof case. It would--- it would be absolutely soaked, because it was sinking. The entirety of the tent had gone under water, including the protective layer that was meant to save you from rain should it come to it.
There was no cloud on the sky but you had a feeling there’d be water dripping on you all night anyway.
How could it have fallen off? You had secured it with the buckled straps to the bottom of your fairly new backpack, checking repeatedly – every time before you put the backpack on again – that it held.
Then again, maybe you hadn’t done that after the fiasco – and the lovely result of it – with your marinated clothes. So you might be cursed, but by your own fault, really-
A squeeze to your hips brought your attention back to Steve, making you realize you were still standing in the middle of the river, stalling.
“I’m sorry, moving on, moving on,” you babbled, only to have him still your movements, eyes scrutinizing your face.
“You okay?”
Funny you should ask.
“Are you?”
You reciprocated the scrutiny; eyes roaming his handsome features, you searched for any signs of discomfort – not from having to hold you, but from still soaking his legs in the cold water. All you found was a reassuring smile; and yet, you couldn’t but brush your thumb inconspicuously over Steve’s shoulder in an attempt at comfort, incidentally along the hem of his t-shirt. An emotion flashed in his irises, eyes darkening a fraction, the grip on your flesh turning almost bruising before he began to release it, taking one of your hands again and then the other. You licked your lips – and you’d swear Steve’s gaze flickered to your mouth at that – standing up straighter.
From the corner of your eye, you saw Bucky dropping your tent on the bank of the river.
“Thank you, Bucky!”
“No problem, dollface. Get moving though, my old knees aren’t built for this cold anymore,” he said, causing you to glare at Steve accusingly.
He had lied.
Of course he had fucking lied.
And he had the audacity to grin when you looked at him with accusatory and genuinely worried eyes.
“Let’s get you to the other side, shall we?”
“I packed your favourite snack, but I just decided I’m gonna eat it alone,” you threatened your vengeance for him for not being honest.
Steve feigned hurt so well you might as well believe it; but the hold on your hands remained gentle and secure as he helped you continue the path. “That’s cold, Lee.”
The corners of your lips quirked up.
“I know it’s cold. Now was it so hard to admit it?” you questioned as you beckoned to the water – causing Bucky to chuckle and Steve to deadpan when he instantly realized your trickery.
“You should be around more often, dollface,” Bucky said, approaching you and taking up on Steve’s task.
Steve just grunted and made his way to help Daisy. You felt your face heat up further at Bucky’s remark, grateful no one else could hear the exchange.
…were you though?
“I’ll take your words for it… and Steve?” He glanced at you over his shoulder, clearly not really offended. “Thank you for catching me.”
His smile, no matter how small, said it all and felt like the softest blanket to wrap around you on a cold winter morning; I’ll always catch you.
Always.
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Just as you had expected, once you all made it through the river, you reached the camp spot in no time; and just as you had expected, your tent was a lost cause. You could build it, hoping it would dry out overnight at least bit, but actually sleeping in it was out of question unless you wanted to wake up soaked up and sneezing.
In a brief moment of self-pity you granted yourself, you planted your butt on the ground, laying the drenched parts of your tent next to you, taking a deep breath and slowly releasing it as you stared at the traitorous pieces of equipment, including the buckles that had been meant to hold the package to the backpack but had given out.  
While everyone busied themselves with unpacking their temporary shelters as well – Natasha with Bucky, Bobbi with Hunter, May, Daisy and Hopkinson each on their own in the lightest and therefore smallest tents possible, Bobbi took note of your state, smiling compassionately.
“Are you okay? The water really did a number on that thing, huh?”
You reciprocated her smile wryly, no less grateful for her care.
“Yeah… But you know what? I win. Sleeping outside? I can stargaze. I’ll be fine,” you said, shrugging and rising to your feet to get to work. You could build the tent to have it dry out at least and wash your clothes in the lake you had settled at. “I’m just… gonna sleep by the fire under the open skies, in… borrowed, non-marinated clothes and with no sleeping bag, because with my luck, it’s probably full of bugs or itching powder or something. It’s fine. God knows I slept in conditions a lot worse than that.”
And wasn’t that the truth. You had slept in much better conditions too, but that was beside the point. You tried to summon the memories of horrible nights spent in damp clothes, freezing, teeth clattering so hard the sound made it impossible to fall asleep; unbearable heat, loud noises, even just annoying persistent chatter. Sleeping under the open skies was practically a blessing in comparison. A dream.
And you did not want to remember nights that had been very different, because that would only make you miserable at your predicament.
“Yeah, not on my watch,” Steve called out lowly, placing another hook in the ground, using his foot to step on it and dig it deeper. “Not when the solution is obvious.”
Your heart skipping a beat at the obvious solution, you barely had time to breathe in to respond when someone else did – in an extremely irritated manner.
“Seriously?! What, you gonna lend her your tent too?” Hopkinson spat, rising from where he had been crouching by his tent. “Maybe even keep her warm through the-“
Steve lunged his direction so fast you didn’t even have time to be offended by the implication.
But Bucky, the supersoldier he was, was much faster; his metal arm stopped Steve in his tracks, palm pressing against Steve’s chest before he could make the almost-breaking-Hopkinson’s-arm a pleasant memory for the man.
Still, Hopkinson had enough wit to shut up and step back hastily, raising his hands defensively. His face turned white as a sheet of paper; good. He had some brain left then, it seemed. How he had survived for so long you had no idea.
Gulping – and shamelessly satisfied at the fear in Hopkinson’s eyes, because Jesus he did not just say that, even as you had thought about exactly the same – you turned your gaze back to Steve and Bucky.
And something in your core exploded hot, a tug so violent and visceral it was almost painful.
If Steve had looked at Hopkinson like he could break his arm all those weeks back when he had made his stupid comment, now he looked like he could break every single bone in his body, snap the guy in half and enjoy it. And he’d enjoy doing it for you. To defend you.
Steve’s smile was always a beautiful sight and so was the softness he could look at you with at times; but the rage in his face now, the fire in his eyes, on your behalf, were nothing short of breathtaking.
Avenging angel indeed.
He might not be carrying a flaming sword, nor had his shield on his arm, but that made him no less menacing, no less divine; and no less beautiful.
“Do we have a problem, Agent Hopkinson?” Bucky asked calmly, despite the clear effort with which he was holding Steve back still, even as Steve visibly didn’t move a muscle.
You were barely moving at all too; your chest was heaving, the rest of your body strung tight with effort not to let show just how affected you were by Steve’s near literal white-knighting.  
“No, sir,” Hopkinson saluted, nodding stiffly, before he scrambled to finish building his tent.
“Good.”
Few seconds of deafening silence was only interrupted by the scrape of shoes against ground as the camp slowly came back to life again. Bucky shot Steve a look before he let his metal arm down, watching Steve avert his still flaming gaze from Hopkinson with shoulders remaining squared; and so alluringly wide you just wanted to run your hands over them, just as breathless at the sensation as you were now-
“I mean, makes sense you’d share,” Daisy broke the silence, everyone visibly relaxing. “It looks like your tent is pretty big, eh?”
Your eyes went wide.
Loud cough erupted from Hunter’s direction as he spitted the water he had been drinking; Bobbi patted his shoulders, amusement clear on her face. Bucky’s face twisted in a questionable grimace; Natasha pursed her lips, seemingly one second from making a comment. May bit back a smirk; Hopkinson was only showing his back, but he clearly froze in his movements.
Steve just looked shocked – shocked enough to snap from the anger that had overtook him on your behalf.
You would think it would take Daisy a few seconds to realize how she had worded her statement, accidentally referring to a figurative ‘tent’ men grew in certain situations – but judging by her seemingly innocent smile and the sparkle in her eye, she knew exactly what she had implied. And she had done so on purpose and with delight.
She was right, however. Steve’s temporary dwelling was probably the biggest one at your site and it even included a vestibule, where all the equipment which was meant for everyone was to be stored. His tent had the most space for the reason he could put his backpack to the vestibule alone.
Steve cleared his throat, taking a few steps to you, a relaxed smile having found way back to his face.
“…are you comfortable with sharing a tent with me?”
You reciprocated his smile, shrugging, even as you had to work hard to swallow your amusement at Daisy’s comment. One that was very much on point.
Yes. You were very comfortable sharing a tent with him indeed. More than, actually, but not everyone needed to know that; and you could feel several knowing gazes on you as you answered as levelled as possibly.
“I mean… we have shared a room before for a mission. I’m fine… are you? Comfortable with that, that is?” you asked, perfectly polite, considerate and friendly, even as your heart was racing in your ribcage.
There was no reason for the racing heart though. Because this was okay for friends to do. Absolutely. If you having shared the room sometimes included sharing a bed, which had naturally resulted in cuddling, body heat searching body heat, no one needed to know – especially not Agent Asshole Hopkinson. What happened in a motel room stayed in a motel room. Always.
A cute crinkle appeared in Steve’s eye as he gave the answer you already knew.
“I wouldn’t have asked if I wasn’t. Of course, it’s fine.”
More than, whispered his gaze, so you averted it and busied yourself with gathering the wet parts of your tent, clearing your throat.
“Good… that’s good. Thanks. I really appreciate it, Steve.”
“Any time, Lee.”
You could feel his gaze on you, the warmth of his smile like a soft blanket on your back. It was going to be a long, long night.
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Part 2
Complete masterlist
Steve Rogers masterlist
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I hope you enjoyed reading 🤭 if you did, please consider leaving feedback and reblogging💕
I hope July has been kind to you!
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greynatomy · 2 months
Text
worth the wait?
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leah williamson x reader
i know i said that i retired from writing but i couldn’t not put one out for a pretty girl’s birthday, even if it’s a bit very late. happy birthday @totaly-obsessed <3
also credit to the show ‘scorpion’ for a bit of the plot and dialogue. it’s what inspired me to write this
———
The last three years was nothing short of a roller coaster. You moved to England from your small apartment in New York to work for the government — after being caught hacking into all their data, only telling them that you’d tell them exactly how you did it and wouldn’t be charged with anything.
In the first couple of weeks of getting settled in your new place, you’ve been going to the same little diner every single day. The diner was busier than normal, but you still took up a whole table to yourself, folders littered on top as you typed away on your laptop. 
You didn’t mind how busy it was, all in your own world until a figure slid into the booth right in front of you. You look up, eyes blinking rather quickly.
“Uh, I don’t know you. Why are you sitting there?”
Shocked by your words, she spits out a venomous apology, sliding out of the booth.
“I can see by your facial expression that you aren’t rather pleased by how I talked to you. People have told me that I have a very low EQ and don’t know how to deal with… emotions because I do not feel as one normal human does.” 
The woman sits back down in the booth in front of you, face now showing an amusing expression.
“What’s your name?”
“Y/N Y/LN.”
“Well, Y/N, it’s interesting to meet you.”
“It’s interesting to meet you too.”
There’s a bit of an awkward silence as you kept staring at her. She shifts in her seat, not knowing the reason for your stare.
“You never told me your name.”
Her eyebrows shoot up in surprise. “Oh! Sorry, it’s Leah, Leah Williamson.”
“Okay.” You give her a tight lipped smile, going back to your work.
Leah was unsure of what to do. All she knows was that she saw a pretty girl in a crowded diner taking up a whole booth and next thing she knows, she’s sat across from her.
As she works up the courage to start a conversation, she’s lightly shoved deeper into the booth.
“Jen has a case for us so pack up.” The person is gone before she could steady herself.
“I apologize for Natalie’s demeanor, but this is urgent. Goodbye.”
Both of you didn’t know, but that would be the start of a very complicated relationship. The pair of you have gotten close over time, you even going to games to support her even if it’s not your favorite place to be.
You’ve also gotten close to some of Leah’s teammates, well you tried to keep your distance, but they keep popping up beside you.
“When are you gonna ask the skipper out?”
You were currently doing a crossword puzzle — not really a puzzle because all the answer were much to easy for your very smart brain — when one Katie McCabe came up to stand next to you after the game.
The team had just won against Aston Villa and are getting showered and dressed before leaving the stadium.
“I don’t know what you mean.”
“Oh, come on man! Stop being a wimp and ask her to dinner.”
“Right now?”
“Yes! Right now!”
Standing by the locker room, you wait for the blonde to make an appearance.
“Y/N! Glad you could make it!” She walks up to you, wrapping her arms around your neck, pulling you into an embrace.
“Of course. You gave me tickets and- and you’re playing. You played great by the way.” You stutter a bit, always getting taken aback when she hugs you.
“Thank you for coming.”
“Hey, uh, listen. May-maybe you’d want to—”
“—Hey, Leah!”
Your words were interrupted when a girl who had on gear from the opposing team walked up to where you stood with the girl mentioned.
“Jordan! What’s up?”
“Just wondering if you were still up for later?”
“For sure.”
“Okay! It’s a date!”
“It’s a date.”
Watching her walk away, you were frozen. Your plan was now thrown out the window.
“What were you saying?”
“Oh, just that I am, uh, going now. Goodbye.”
You turn your heels and speed walk your way out of the building, leaving a confused Leah behind.
Heating footsteps catching up behind you, you see Katie beside you.
“So? How’d it go?”
“Great, in fact. She has a date.”
“That’s amazing!”
“With Jordan.”
“Wait, what?”
You didn’t say any more, hopping into your car and driving off.
The Arsenal women hadn’t seen you in a week since you told Katie about Leah’s date. No one bothered to ask Leah because one; they didn’t know how to approach the situation and two; you asked them not to say a word.
You were stuck in your apartment as far as anyone knew, locked yourself away from everyone and everything other than your work and coworkers.
Leah and Jordan’s relationship didn’t last long, couple months at most and everything was mostly back to normal between the two of you. 
As much as Leah’s friends love and care for Leah, they grew fond of you too and didn’t like how she was treating you like some second option.
Of course you were completely oblivious, emotions are difficult for you to understand, not knowing why people keep telling you to be cautious with your heart.
Going into year two of knowing Leah, you’ve been to your fair share of dates of your own. Failed dates are what you would say they were because they never understood how your mind works/never took the time to understand you. 
“Hey, mate! It’s good to see you!”
Turning around, you spot Katie with a shopping basket of her own.
“It’s been a while since you’ve come around.”
“I have been very busy as of late.”
Before Katie could say a reply, she was interrupted by a familiar person.
“Hey, Katie! Did you happen to already grab the tomato sauce?”
Leah Williamson in all her glory, except she wasn’t alone. Your eyes tracing her figure from her eyes all the way down her arm to where her hand was, clasped with another.
“Y/N! Didn’t expect to see you here bud!”
‘Bud?’ You thought. ‘A very platonic name to call someone.’
“Leah.” You turn back to Katie. “It was very nice to catch up with you Katie. Goodbye.” With that you walked away.
“What’s her problem?” Leah asked, eyebrows furrowed as she watched your figure become smaller. Katie just sighs, rolling her eyes and also walking away from Leah.
This year was already starting way different from the last. You’ve locked yourself up, not bothering to leave your apartment unless it was for work.
And Leah? Well, she’s been preoccupied with her new relationship, pushing you off to the side once again. 
You were spiraling, not that you knew, not understanding what you were feeling so you hopped in your car to go for a drive.
Gripping onto the steering wheel with tears streaming down your face, you step on the pedal harder, not aware of anything around you. Next thing you knew, all you saw was black.
Back at the warehouse, Natalie was wondering where their leader could have gone, surprised how you weren’t there with them as you’re always early. The rest of the team had no idea where you were so she called the very last person she wants to call.
“Nat?”
“It’s Natalie, Williamson.”
“Uh, Okay. Natalie? Why are you calling?”
“Is Y/N with you?”
“No. Why?”
“Goodbye.”
Leah quickly gets out of bed where her girlfriend laid with her.
“Where are you going?” She asked, only to be ignored, the sound of the door slamming echoes through the house.
“Have you found her?” Was the first thing Leah asks as she barges into the warehouse where the team, minus you, gathered.
“You are not welcome here.” A man walks up to grab her arm.
“Let go of me. She’s my friend.”
“Some fucking friend you are then.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“Where’s your girlfriend?”
The arguments escalate, voices are being raised not noticing a figure walk through the door on unsteady feet. 
“What is with all the shouting?”
That’s when they see your disheveled face, eyes bloodshot from what looks like crying. It was silent for a moment before they all started shouting again, this time directed at you.
“Where have you been?”
“We’ve been trying to reach you for so long!”
“Why haven’t you been answering your phone?”
“Shhh! You’re all too loud, thank you.”
Leah stomps over to you, grabs your hand and pulls you up to your room.
“Why are you trying to pull my arm out of its socket?”
“Are you serious right now?”
“Yes? You were pulling too aggressively.” You state, walking to your closet to grab a new shirt.
“Everyone was worried about you.” You exclaims, hands waving to show how angry she is. “I was worried about you!”
“You were?” You ask, your fingers stopped buttoning your shirt halfway up.
Taken aback at your confused expression, she carefully steps towards you, trembling hands helped you finish the last buttons of your shirt.
“Of course I was! You’re my best friend.” She runs her hands from your chest, past your neck, resting on both of your cheeks, thumbs rubbing soothingly.
“If you are, then have you noticed this is the first time you’ve said a word to me in about three months?” Your voice was soft, tears on the verge of falling as you looked into Leah’s eyes.
“What?”
“You’ve not even looked my way when we happen to be in the same room together.”
“What-what do you want me to say here?”
“What I want you to say is why you always avoid me once you get into a relationship? And don’t give me that shit where-where she’s your girlfriend and-and she comes first because I was always pushed to the side with Jordan and now with whoever you’re with now.”
“That’s not true!”
“I don’t know what to tell you. But don’t come running towards me once this relationship of yours tragically ends just like the last time.”
You grab your jacket and walked out of the room, leaving Leah with her thoughts.
The drive home was quiet, the sounds outside of the car muffled. The key twists to unlock the front door, closing it behind her. Walking into the bedroom, she spots her girlfriend who’s sat on the bed, seemingly has not moved from when she left her.
“You okay?” Leah heard the question, but didn’t answer. So the woman pushed. “Where did you go? What happened?”
“Leave.” It was whispered too softly to be heard.
“What?”
“Leave!” Her voice stronger.
“What do you mean leave?”
“I mean leave my apartment. I-I don’t. I don’t know, but I wanna be alone.”
“I don’t think you should be alone right now.”
“Please.” Vulnerable. That’s how she sounded, almost pleading for the woman to do as she says. Getting the hint, she hastily leaves, grabbing all her things.
Finally alone in her apartment, Leah lets the tears fall, the weight of the day felt heavy on her shoulders.
‘I was always pushed to the side.’ Your voice echoes in her head. Did she push you aside? But she didn’t mean to. Right?
She doubted herself, unsure of what was true or not, even if she was the one who lived it.
Months passed with no communication between the two friends former friends. Well, Leah tried, texting, calling, sending letters and was met with nothing but radio silence. Leah isolated herself. She barely slept, went to training and home right after, not going out with friends to celebrate after a win. If she did go out, she finds herself staring at the entrance, hoping you would walk through.
You were the same.
You stared at the computer screen, eyes flicking from one thing to another. The numbers and letters blurred together, seemingly losing all meaning, but that was okay. Meaning wasn’t the goal. Distraction was. 
Your coworkers, your friends grew worried. They could see the dark bags that formed under your eyes, knowing you haven’t been sleeping much.
They never brought up Leah. She was the she-who-shall-not-be-named.
An envelope being placed on the keyboard snaps you out of working, seeing it was addressed to you. Opening it up, you see it was an invitation. A wedding invitation from two of your friends.
‘It was about time.’ You thought.
So here you were, sitting in your seat, which was conveniently right in front of Leah’s. Of course she’d be here. The guests mostly consisted of her friends as this was a teammate’s wedding.
Leah couldn’t keep her eyes off of you, even if it was just the back of your head. The bride stood at the altar, tears falls down her face as she sees her bride walk down the aisle.
At the reception, you stood off to the side, a bit overwhelmed by the amount of people around you.
“Would you like to dance?”
Turning towards the voice, you find yourself standing face to face with Leah and man does she look beautiful.
“I-I don’t know how to dance.”
“That’s okay. Just follow my lead.”
She grabs both of your hands, placing them on her waist as her arms rest over your shoulders.
“I’ve been trying to talk to you for months.”
“I know.”
“And you didn’t bother replying back? I even sent letters. Who even sends letters to anyone during this time anymore?”
Your purse your lips, not knowing what to say.
“Why? I’ve been trying to-to hopefully right my wrongs, but I can’t do that when you won’t even talk to me.” Leah’s voice held desperation. “I mean you can’t even look at me.” 
Your eyes flick up to meet hers.
“Do you remember what I told you the last time we talked?”
‘…don’t come running towards me once this relationship of yours tragically ends just like the last time.’ She nods.
“I was tired of being the second choice. Tired of being pushed aside everyone some other girl catches the slightest bit of attention from you.” You remove your hands from her waist and take a step back to distance yourself a bit.
“I want to state for the record that I am not under the influence of any substance. I’m just stating an irrefutable fact. I pushed you away… because I’m in love with you. I’ve been in love with you since shortly after we met. And I’ve spent years trying to process how that should be handled. Perhaps it’s not something that is supposed to be handled. Maybe it-it’s something that just is.” You take a breath shaking your head, a bit overwhelmed with the confession you just made. “And I-I know you-you don’t feel the same as I do. And that’s okay. But I-I just wanted you to know.”
“Y/N.” Leah says softly, taking a step closer. “I’m in love you to too.”
You lick your lips. “I don’t know what to do with that information.”
“I have an idea.”
The married couple decided to sneak away for a bit, finding a supply closet in their venue. Opening the door, their eyes go wide.
“I guess Leah is no longer Voldemort.”
“Close the door.” Leah says, putting the shoulder strap of her dress back in place.
“Hey, guys. Why’d you guys sneak—” Alessia gasps. “What am I looking at?”
“Close the door!” You state louder, buttoning up your shirt, hair disheveled.
“What are you all looking at?” Katie asks walking towards the group, looking into the closet. “Well it’s about damn time.”
“Anyone else want to come by? How about Kyra?”
“What’s up guys?” Kyra comes up, biting into a pastry that was provided.
You both quickly fix yourself up, a bit embarrassed with getting caught. Leah gives them all a stare, her captain stare, to let them know that they need to leave.
Once they’ve left, Leah wastes no time pulling your back in, her lips easily finding yours as she closes back the door.
“Glad Leah got her head out of her ass.” Katie states, walking up to the bar with the group.
“Right!”
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evansbby · 1 year
Text
⭒✮▹𝐅𝐨𝐫𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫'𝐬 𝐢𝐧 𝐘𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐄𝐲𝐞𝐬
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𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: older husband!Ari Levinson x naive wife!reader
𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: daddy!kink, smutt, dd/lg vibes, pregnancy!kink, breeding!kink, housewife!kink, lactation!kink, size difference,  age gap, innocence!kink, naive reader, 18+ only, minors dni!
𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: Ari finally comes home to his very pregnant wife.
𝐀/𝐍: I’m just surprised I didn’t write this sooner tbh. Enjoy!
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“Honey, I’m home!”
Your husband’s booming voice echoes around the house, sending thrills up and down your spine. You feel a huge smile plaster itself on your face – despite the fact that you’ve been married to him for almost a year now, you still feel giddy like a little girl every time you hear him come home. You carefully set down the casserole that has just finished cooking, impatiently shaking your oven mitts off before making a beeline to the front door and launching yourself at your big, beefy husband.
“Ari!” You hug him hard, pressing your nose into his hard chest that smells so deliciously like him. Like fresh soap and his manly musk with a hint of salty seawater. Just him. And you can’t help but breath him in, trying your best to climb up his body and wrap your legs around his waist, which is obviously a hard task considering how big your belly has gotten. “Missed you so much,” you mumble against his solid body, loving the feel of his warm arms enveloping you into his embrace. You wish he’d hug you harder, completely crush your body against his like how he used to. Till you can’t breathe but in the best possible way.
But of course, he’s ten times more mindful of you now. Pregnancy and all.
“Baby,” Ari breathes, burying his nose in your hair and nuzzling the top of your head. He presses a bunch of kisses against your hairline, one hand already on your belly (its favourite place to be, as of late), stroking it softly while his other hand meanders down to your ass (his other favourite part of your body). “Mm, I missed you too, sweet girl. Missed your little body against me like this.”
He cups your face, tipping it upwards and lifting you slightly so he can plant a kiss to your lips. He was just so damn tall and big – kissing was a bit of a problem unless he bent down or picked you up. You didn’t mind, though. You loved how much bigger he was than you, how strong and beefy and muscular he looked.
And Ari’s genes were strong enough that he’d passed them down to his unborn children too. You were about eight months along with Ari’s twins in your belly. Both boys. Both bigger than average according to your last scan. And both extremely active and strong just like their daddy – you knew because of all the somersaults and kicks they were subjecting you to day after day. But it was worth it. Ari said that you were the always the most beautiful thing he’d ever laid his eyes on, but pregnancy just made you glow differently. And he’d get that fire in his eyes every time he looked at your belly growing his babies, and it made you feel so powerful, so sexy, so wonderful.
You’d only been married to Ari for a month before you’d found out you were pregnant. You’d met him less than a year ago, this business tycoon who’d swept you off your innocent feet. He was handsome, charming and respectful, and he’d proposed to you after only a few weeks. You’d said yes, of course. And he’d made it clear that he wanted a big family, a cute little housewife (you) who took care of him and his children. You were all too happy to oblige, because you wanted all those things too.
“How are my boys?” Ari whispers, cupping your belly with his huge palm. God, he was just so big – built strong like a wrestler yet also lithe and athletic. Not to mention so goddamned handsome! You couldn’t believe your luck. Some of your friends had told you that you were too young for a man like Ari. You were only fresh out of college and he was almost double your age and the CEO of one of the biggest tech companies in the country. That didn’t matter to you, though. You liked being his little baby, having him dote over you and spoil you (which he had done since the day he met you, and continued to do till this day).
And so what if he babied you all the time and made all your decisions for you? You liked giving up the control, and Ari was just so smart and level-headed, it just made sense to allow him to take over every aspect of your life.
“Your boys have been extra rowdy today.” You giggle as your husband continues to press kisses all over your face and neck, his long hair tickling you as he does so. “They keep kicking me like they want to come out already. How am I supposed to tell them they’re not due for another month?”
Ari smirks, easily picking you up with one arm like you’re a little baby yourself. His other hand is still splayed over your swollen stomach. He’d grown addicted to cupping your belly ever since the day you told him you were pregnant. It was a problem in the early days, when none of your friends and family knew yet your husband kept stroking your belly in front of them, a cocky look on his handsome face that all but gave everything away.
“I can’t wait till they come, but I also want to keep you pregnant just a little bit longer.” Ari murmurs, carrying you into the living room. He gives your ass a loud slap, the action making you yelp and clutch his muscular bicep as he grins. “You’re so sexy like this, baby. Have I ever told you that?”
“Only about a gazillion times,” you roll your eyes, but this earns you another hard slap on the ass and a warning look from your husband. You squeal, “Ari! That hurt!”
“You know not to roll your eyes at me, honey. I may have married you and knocked you up but you’re still my little baby.” Ari pats your bum and gives it a soft squeeze before kissing your cheek to make you smile. “And I’ve told you to call me daddy, princess.”
“Oh yeah, sorry daddy!”
“That’s okay, baby.”
You’d called Ari “daddy” during sex ever since he took your virginity on your first date almost a year ago. It just fit him; he took care of you so good and he was just so big and strong and dominant. Ari was really into it, always coaxing you to call him daddy – even outside the bedroom. And he’d always look so extremely smug when you’d inevitably slip and accidentally call him daddy in front of your friends and family.
But especially now that the two of you were married and lived in Ari’s big suburban mansion, he just went crazy every time he’d come home to you in your checkered apron, pregnant with his babies and calling him daddy. He’d told you once that it was his idea of heaven on Earth, and you were the one who’d given it to him.
“You have no idea how hot you look right now, baby.” Ari tells you as he takes a seat on his armchair and sets you on his lap. You’re still dwarfed by his huge size even when he’s sitting down with you on top of him, holding you securely on his knee like you’re his little baby. His gaze grows dark as he watches your breasts bounce slightly as he sits down, pink tongue peeking out to lick his lips hungrily. “I couldn’t concentrate at work, all I could think about was my baby wife, round with my children and taking care of my house in your cute little dress.”
You glance down at your dress, it’s one of many that Ari had bought for you. He had said that baby wives only ever wore dresses around the house so it was easier for their daddies to fuck them. You had absolutely no problem with that, seeing as you loved wearing the cute dresses he bought for you, and you also loved it whenever he’d slip his hand up the cotton material, or bent you over a random piece of furniture around the house and fucked the living daylights out of you.
Ari was a loving and doting husband, but sometimes he would get extremely rugged and rough with you. He’d tell you that you were his wife and it was your duty to bend over for him whenever he pleased. Sometimes, he’d watch you with lust-filled eyes while you did the housework around the house. And all he had to do was snap his fingers and you’d come running over to him.
He’d either push you down to your knees and make you suck him off till he was satisfied, or he’d bend you over the arm of the couch and fuck you fast and hard, calling you his cute little baby housewife, telling you how all your holes belonged to him only, because he was your husband and he owned you. And you’d whimper and mewl and wail and cry while he had his way with you, till he’d fill you up with his cum and then pull you upright, straighten your dress, slap your ass and send you back to your housework.
No wonder he knocked you up so quickly.
“Honey? You still here?” Ari bounces you on his lap and you blink before smiling up at him.
“Oh. Sorry, I was just thinking.”
“Why would you need to think, baby? Daddy does all the thinking, remember? You just look pretty.” Ari bounces you on his lap again, making you giggle while his eyes once more zero in on your breasts. They’re so much bigger now that you’re pregnant, and Ari has been paying more attention to them than usual. In fact, your pregnant body in general has him incensed and feral. He’s always grabbing at you and pawing at you, squeezing and groping and stroking your every curve like he can’t get enough.
He reaches past you to grab the cold bottle of beer which you’d already set out for him on the coffee table. You watch him as he takes a deep swig, admiring how handsome he is. He’s got a defined jawline covered with his thick beard that makes him look more manly and virile than ever. A gorgeous sloped nose with a cute bump on it that you love to kiss, and high cheekbones smattered with freckles. He sports a golden tan almost all year round, as well as a wonderfully beefy, sun-kissed body that you can’t get enough of.
Even now, you slip your hand up and down his hard stomach, feeling his hairy, toned abs through his cotton shirt that’s stretched taught over them. God, he really was the hottest man alive. All the women that worked for him were crazy about him, including his secretary. But Ari had told you not to worry, that you were the love of his life and he’d waited forty years to find you, and he’d wait forty more to find you again.
“Dinner’s all ready for you.” You say, pressing a kiss to his cheek because he looks so deliciously handsome and you can’t help it. “I made all your favourites, daddy. I think I’m getting better at cooking now.”
You’d struggled with cooking at the beginning of your marriage. You knew Ari expected you to be a good little housewife, but cooking was never your strongest suit. Ari hadn’t minded though, always finding it adorable when you’d sheepishly serve him burnt food that was borderline inedible. And then he’d order a takeaway and you’d both eat in front of the TV, and he’d lick the pizza sauce off the corner of your mouth before pulling you into his lap to make out.
But you’d wanted to be a good housewife for him, after all, Ari worked so hard to provide for you and he bought you whatever you wanted. He didn’t expect you to slave away in the kitchen, of course, but you figured he deserved a good homecooked meal once in a while. And so, you sifted through various cookbooks and online recipes and YouTube videos until you’d finally been able to cook something half decent. And Ari had been so proud of you when you’d served him a roasted chicken and mashed potatoes, and making you husband proud was all you really wanted to do.
Back in the present, Ari playfully chucks you under your chin, “You’re an amazing cook, sweetheart. I can’t wait to eat dinner. But I won’t lie, baby, right now I’m hungry for something else.”
His eyes go down to your chest again, and you smile demurely as thrills shoot down to your core. Ari’s big hands cup your breasts, squeezing them lewdly before tweaking your hard nipples through the thin material of your dress. You never really wore bras inside the house, and Ari was not one to complain about that. He grins wickedly when two wet spots appear on the fabric covering your nipples.
You’d started lactating recently, and Ari had been nothing short of thrilled about that. “Baby wives feed their daddies their mommy milk,” he’d told you, and of course, he was always right. You were scared at first, having him drink from you. But he’d been so ravenous, so hungry for your milk and the intimacy that came with doing something like that. How could you possibly say no?
Now, Ari fed from you all the time. It was almost a daily occurrence which almost always ended in mind-blowing sex.
Ari holds you close to him as he kisses down your neck, his hands slipping up your arms to push the straps of your dress down. Your breasts are painful and heavy as he frees them from the dress, your nipples already hard as glass but you still hiss as the cool air hits them, making them even more erect, if that was possible.
“Poor baby,” Ari coos, tweaking your nipple casually while you squirm in his arms, whimpering like a baby who needs to be tended to. That only incenses Ari more, and he gives your erect nipple a couple of flicks, making you gasp as he laughs wickedly. “Look at your sexy tits, all sore and heavy. They must really hurt, huh baby?”
You pout and nod, grabbing his forearm desperately, “Y-Yeah, they do. Daddy, plea–”
“My poor baby,” Ari continues, squeezing and groping to his heart’s content as droplets of your milk begin to leak. Your husband licks his lips, spreading the liquid all over your sore breasts, making you hornier than ever but he only smirks. “Bet you’ve been waiting all day for daddy to come home and breastfeed from you, huh?”
“Y-Yeah, please!” You whimper, jutting your chest out till your heavy breasts are almost smothering his face. And all he does is laugh, giving your nipple another hard pinch while you feel the tears of frustration well in your eyes. He reduced you to tears so easily, but it was only because you craved him so badly and didn’t like it when things didn’t go your way. He often teased you about this, calling you a needy, spoiled baby who lacked any type of patience.
Ari gives your nipple a light flick with is tongue, his blue eyes shining wickedly as your breath hitches. But then he lets out a feral growl, completely enveloping your nipple between his lips and sucking down hard. You whimper again, grabbing his hair and holding his head close to your breast as he begins to drink your milk, groaning, biting and licking at your nipple like a starved man.
“God, you have such sexy tits, baby.” He mumbles against your breasts, burying his face into them as he continues to suckle. He grabs your other tit and gives it a rough squeeze, kneading the soft flesh with his expert fingers. “And your mommy milk tastes so good.”
“Th-Thank you, daddy!” You manage to get out through all the different sensations you’re feeling. He’s still bouncing you up and down on his lap, his hard dick poking against your butt like a steel rod through his pants. Plus, his mouth working against your nipple is making you see stars, and you feel pleasure mixed with the relief from him draining the milk from your breast.
“Good girl with good manners,” Ari grunts approvingly, his voice slightly muffled as he lewdly takes your whole breast into his mouth (as much of it that fits) giving it a hearty suck while rocking you against him as he dry-humps his dick up into your clothed core. “Just like how daddy trained you to be. Fuck, baby. I bet none of my friends’ wives are as obedient and cute as you, huh?”
“N-No!” you agree with a yelp when he gives your ass a firm slap before grabbing a handful of your ass-cheek from under your dress and giving it a lewd jiggle. “D-Daddy, need you so bad!” You try to grab his hard dick out from the waistband of his pants but he easily slaps your hands away, making you pout and whine as he continues to suck your breasts.
“Let daddy have his meal first.” Ari scolds, slapping your butt again, harder this time, before focusing his attention to your other breast. He suckles you sweetly at first, before growing greedy once your milk starts flowing into his mouth. Incensed, he moans against your breast, grabbing your hips and repositioning you on top of him. He bounces you up and down straight on top of his crotch while he feeds from you, and you moan wantonly as your body begins to work itself up.
“B-But daddy, I waited all – ah! – I waited all day for you!” You pout, trying to grind down against your husband but he holds you in place, always wanting to control your pleasure and never letting you seek it out by yourself unless you had his permission.
Ari releases your nipple with a pop before grinning wolfishly down at you, a thoughtful look on his face as his hand splays itself on your belly once more. “Well, you were a good, patient baby today, weren’t you?”
“I was, I was!” He slips his hand down under your dress, quickly settling it between your legs while your breath hitches and eyes cloud over with lust and want. And all it takes is for his pointer finger to press down on your swollen, panty-covered clit and you’re cumming. You squeak and clutch on to his muscular forearms as you orgasm, your other hand going down to hold his hand in place between your legs as you hump and ride against it. Your panties are completely soaked through and your entire body is buzzing with sensitivity as you pant his name.
Ari looks extremely smug as he watches you orgasm in his lap, leaving a sizable pool of your wetness on his clothed leg. Casually, he tweaks your nipple, his blue eyes trained on your face as you gasp in response, your body twitching in his arms.
“You’re so sensitive now, baby. I bet I could make you cum without even touching you.” Ari says, looking proud and smug at the same time.
“S-Sorry,” you shoot him a sheepish look once you’ve come down from your high, “can’t help it sometimes, daddy. Specially since I can’t ever touch myself when you’re not here.”
That was one of Ari’s firm rules that you had to follow. At the beginning of your marriage, Ari made it clear that baby wives like you had to follow all the rules that your husband set. That included not speaking to other men without his permission, always doing what he said, always telling him where you were, and of course, never touching yourself without his permission – certainly never when you were alone in the house.
“Dumb babies like you don’t know how to touch yourself.” Ari answers, pressing a kiss to your cheek as he slips his hand out from between your legs, licking his fingers lewdly. “That’s why you need daddy to tend to you all the time. Now tell me, baby, how would you like to be fucked tonight?”
In next to no time at all, your big, beefy husband has you on all fours on your king-sized bed upstairs. A feral energy had overtaken him when you’d shyly voiced your desires to be fucked as hard as possible. Pregnancy made you so horny and feral for him, and in the early days he only ever allowed you on top, because he was so much bigger than you and so scared of hurting you. But soon, he’d learned to be rough in a way that had you both feeling satisfied without ever really causing you any harm.
And so, Ari had wasted no time in carrying you up the stairs, laying you down on the bed and slapping your ass as you scrambled to get on your hands and knees for him. And he’d slapped your ass once, twice, three times, and you knew he was mesmerised by how it jiggled.
“You’re so fucking hot like this, baby.” Ari murmurs, spanking you again like he can’t get enough. “Kept thinking of you like this while I was at work, bent over like a little whore in front of me.”
“Please put it in, Ari!”
“Patience, sweetheart.” He chuckles, running a hand up your spine and sending shivers all throughout your body. He presses his dick against your naked backside, and he feels so hot and pulsating. He’d torn your dress off the moment he’d entered the bedroom, and his own clothes had quickly followed suit. And now you were at the mercy of one big, horny, muscular, beefy man. A caveman, by the looks of how feral he was getting behind you. It’s like seeing your pregnant, naked body just flipped a switch in him, and his own patience was riding thin along with yours as he continues to rut against you.
With one quick thrust, Ari drives his huge dick inside you. You cry out in pain because he’s so big, and you’ll never get used to just how big he is. He’s more than twice the size of you and so incredibly well hung, and all you can do is brace yourself and take it, your whole body jerking forward from the force of his thrust. You’d have gone face first into the mattress had he not anticipated that and grabbed on to your hips tightly.
“Oh, fuck, baby, such a tight fucking hole you got. Daddy barely fits inside.” Ari’s fingers are clutching your hips so tightly, you know it’ll leave a bruise. And he’s rough from the get go, although you know he’s holding back because you’re pregnant. “God, fuck, sweetheart. You got such a good and tight fuckin’ snatch, so perfect for my dick, fuck!”
“H-Harder, daddy!” You cry, rutting back against him as your breasts bounce up and down from the sheer force of his thrusts. But your request earns you a swift smack to your bum.
“Take it how daddy gives it to you, baby.” Ari sneers, the alpha male inside of him taking complete control as his hips increase their pace. It feels like he’s ripping your insides with his hard dick but you feel so goddamn full and so good that you don’t even care, even as he continuously rains slap after slap down on your ass. “God, fuck, such a good little baby wife. Obedient as shit, aren’t you? Daddy’s little baby, gonna give me a bunch of babies, aren’t you?”
“Y-Yeah, gonna have your babies, daddy!” You agree, sounding delirious and very much like an airhead who’s only capable of repeating what her daddy is saying to her but he’s reduced you to this state through his sheer hard fucking and you don’t even care. You want it harder, want him slamming into you till you can’t catch your breath and you pass out. But you know he wouldn’t, you can tell by how he’s got one arm now wrapped protectively around your belly, as if he needs to keep it there to remind himself not to lose control like how he often does during sex.
You remember a couple of times when Ari had gone completely feral, fucking you like you were an animal. Relentless and unforgiving, leaving you with bruises and bumps as he’d had his way with you again and again. But the dark side of you had enjoyed being a cumdump for him, despite the fact that you’d cried from the pain and overwhelming pleasure. And Ari had taken you into his arms afterwards, telling you how sorry he was, how he’d be careful with you in the future, how he got too riled up and how he couldn’t help but take you roughly when he saw how sweet and innocent you looked. And then he’d always be so sweet with his aftercare, and run you a bath and dote on you and hug you till you fell asleep in his arms, smelling like rose scented bubble bath.
“Want me to knock you up again, sweetheart?” Ari asks you back in the present, fucking you so hard you’re seeing stars. His fat dick is hitting all the right spots inside you, making you arch your back as he keeps thrusting into you, hips going into jackhammer mode. “Because I will knock you up again, baby. Soon as you give me my boys, I’ll have you on your back and filled to the brim with my fucking cum so you get knocked up again. You’d like that, wouldn’t you, baby? Wouldn’t you? Fuck!”
“YES, YES, YES!” You scream at the top of your lungs, the pressure building up inside you till that invisible coil snaps and you cum so hard, you’re seeing stars. You collapse underneath Ari, and he has to hold you up as he continues to fuck you. But him describing how he’s going to knock you up again was enough for you to squirt all over his dick, your slippery walls squeezing his hard, fat cock that doesn’t stop its relentless assault inside you.
“Fuck yeah, baby, squeeze my fuckin’ dick!” Ari groans, using your limp body as a literal hole for his dick as he grabs your hips and makes you shake your ass on his dick, “Fuck yeah, baby couldn’t help but cum from the thought of getting knocked up by daddy, huh? Well, you gotta give me another one, honey. One orgasm isn’t enough for my baby girl.”
He pulls you up to your knees so your back is against his chest. And your body is completely limp and void of energy since orgasming had taken everything out of you, and you’re not even sure you can cum again like how he wants you to. But your beefy husband holds you up against him nevertheless, one big hand wrapping around your throat while the other cups your heavy breast and squeezes, and this whole time his hips don’t stop moving inside you. His fat dick driving in and out of you at different, varied paces. Slow so you can feel every ridge and vein, and then fast till his hips are a blur and you feel your eyes rolling to the back of your head.
“You best fucking believe I’m always going to keep you pregnant from now on.” Ari growls in your ear, squeezing your tits together as he paws at you like a feral caveman, his fingers pressing against your throat and cutting off your air supply just enough for your vision to blur and it all feels so deliciously good and you’re long past the point of even being coherent as you wail and scream for him.
You can feel him losing himself, getting rougher and rougher. You know your husband too well, you know he’s turning himself on more and more at the idea of impregnating you again. His lips latch onto your neck, sucking and biting while his hands squeeze your breasts so hard it hurts, and you feel your milk dribble down your nipples.
Ari sees it too, and you swear you can feel his dick get even harder inside you. In a nanosecond, he’s manhandled you into a different position. Now, he’s sitting on the bed with you on top of him, and he’s bouncing you up and down on his dick. And oh my fucking God, it’s so much deeper this way! You can feel your puffy clit grind against his trimmed pubic hairs as he does all the work, his muscular arms wrapping around you, not caring at all that your pregnant belly is in the way as he continues to fuck up into you.
“Can’t let your mommy milk go to waste, can we?” Ari grins, grabbing your tit and latching his mouth on it immediately, sucking down so hard that you see stars. He lets go with a pop, “Guess I didn’t get all of it, huh, baby?”
You hold his head in place, carding your fingers through his brown waves as he continues to drink your milk like a ravenous beast, like he can’t get enough of it. Switching from one nipple to the other, giving both your breasts equal attention as he drains the milk from them.
“You’re so fucking hot when you’re breastfeeding daddy, baby.” Ari tells you, his voice muffled as he keeps his face buried in your breasts. And all the while he’s bouncing you up and down on his dick, and you can feel your second orgasm start to build up – and he hasn’t even cum once yet! You wonder how he remains so calm, so casual enough to have a conversation with you during sex. Meanwhile you’re a dishevelled mess on top of him, head lolling to the side as you’ve already gone dumb from all his ministrations.
“God, fuck, gonna keep you pregnant at all times now, sweetheart.” Ari declares, getting feral again as his hand splays out on your belly. “I want at least five more kids, baby. You gonna give daddy five more babies?”
“Y-Yeah! Yeah, I will!”
“That’s a good fuckin’ girl. A good fucking baby wife. I’m so glad I found you, baby. I love you so fucking much.” He kisses you, pulling you by the hair till you’re flush against him, his hips fucking up into you at a blurring pace that makes you feel like he’ll rip you in half any second now.
“And all the other guys will be so fucking jealous that they don’t have a cute little knocked up baby wife who does whatever they ask. Fuck! Tell me you’re my cute little baby wife!” He pinches your nipple harshly before going back to your belly, rubbing it with his huge hand as he clutches you so close on top of him.
“ ‘m your cute little b-baby wife!” You moan, finally finding the energy to desperately ride him, up and down and backwards and forwards, grinding against the thick steel rod that is his dick as it jams up your poor, abused fuckhole.
“Damn right you are. And I’m your daddy who knocked you the fuck up. And I’ll do it again and again, because you’re my fucking property and I can do whatever the fuck I want with you! You got that? Fuck!”
“Yeah, oh fuck, yeah, daddy, you own me! Wanna have more of your babies! Want you to keep me pregnant all the time!” You blabber incoherently.
“And you’re gonna obey me, and be a good little mommy to all our children, aren’t you?” He smacks your ass hard, once, twice, three times till your ass is sure to be raw and all the while you nod and agree with him, “A good little mommy who does what she’s told to do, and spreads her legs every time daddy wants to knock her up again, you got that?”
“Yes!”
“Fuck, sweetheart. Can’t wait to come home to you taking care of our little ones. Five of ‘em, with another one on the way. Fuck, can’t fuckin’ wait for that.” Ari grunts, his thrusts growing deeper and hitting your spot so deliciously and making you mewl, as well as his words and promises of keeping you pregnant which have you turned on beyond belief.
The pressure in your lower belly builds up higher and higher, more intense till you almost can’t stand it. And it feels so deliciously good, your pleasure mounting higher and higher as Ari continues to fuck you throw it all, holding you close and coaxing you, telling you to cum again for daddy, giving you permission to let go and cover his fat dick in your cream. And you obey, and you cum so hard, marvelling at how much of it squirts out of you.
Like a broken faucet, squirt after squirt of your cum covers his cock, and you sob and clutch at Ari’s hairy chest, burying your face in his hard chest as you cum so hard you almost faint. “Oh daddy, daddy, daddy!” you whimper like a broken record, like a baby who’s collapsed and needs to be held by her big, strong daddy.
“That’s a good baby,” Ari coos, stroking your hair like you’re his good little girl and the pride in his voice makes you sag with relief and euphoria, and his thrusts grow sloppy as he continues to ride you through your orgasm. His fat balls slapping against your pussy, and you know his load will be big because he’s held off so long.
“Fuck, baby.” Ari lets out a guttural groan before he cums, emptying himself inside of you as spurt after spurt of his hot cum sears you from the inside out. Brands you as his as your greedy pussy squelches and swallows his seed like it’s your job. And Ari looks so proud, holding you so close to him till it hurts, like he doesn’t want a single drop of his cum wasted as he fills you up like you’re his personal cumdump. “God-fucking-dammit, your greedy little snatch is squeezing me so good, baby. Best fuckin’ pussy I ever had, taking all my daddy cum like a good little girl. Fuck, take it, take all of it!”
And you do, taking every drop of his thick ropes of cum till you feel so full, stuffed to the brim with his heavy load as you fall down, completely spent and breathing hard, on your back on the bed.
You’re completely sapped of all energy, and again you marvel at how Ari seems perfectly fine, as if he hadn’t just emptied the world’s biggest load inside of you after a long session of unbridled, hot, rough sex. But your husband seems more interested in your body in its post orgasmic glow, rubbing you all over as you rest from the fucking you’ve just received, marvelling at his cum as it drips out of your pussy.
“Looks like your baby pussy couldn’t keep it all in, honey.” Ari swipes a finger up your slit and it comes up covered in his cum. Your mouth drops open in the shape of an o, which works out in your husband’s favour as he feeds you the thick cum. Globs of it, again and again, swiping up from your pussy before he brings his finger to your lips and allows you to suckle it off him. And it’s all you can do in your weakened, post-fucked state, suckle his fingers like a baby as your daddy feeds you his cum.
“Th-Thank you, daddy.” You murmur weakly, not forgetting your manners as Ari smiles down at you smugly. Finally tearing his gaze away from your body, he lies down next to you and gathers you into his arms for a cuddle. Kissing the top of your head and all over your face as he holds you close to him, till you can feel his heartbeat in sync with your own.
“You’re welcome, baby. I love you so much.” Ari answers, looking like the happiest man in the world. And it’s such a powerful feeling, knowing it’s you who has made him feel this way.
“Love you too, daddy.” You say tiredly, cuddling close and burying your face into his hairy chest as you breathe in his intoxicating post-sex musk. “Can’t wait to give you more babies. Can’t wait for our boys to come. I’ll be the best mommy to your babies, I promise.”
Ari chuckles, tucking a strand of your hair behind your ear as he gazes at you with eyes filled with adoration. His hand goes down to cup your belly, and he squeezes you so close to him, you feel you might suffocate. But in the best way.
“I know you will, baby. I know you’ll take care of my children, but right now I’m going to take care of you, okay?”
“Okay, daddy.”
He runs you a strawberry scented bubble bath, carrying you to the bathroom and getting into the tub with you. Gently scrubbing you clean and massaging your sore muscles and sensitive skin while you lie on top of him in the bath, content and barely conscious from the incredible session of fucking you’ve just received. Smiling faintly as he whispers sweet nothings in your ear, promising you the world and more, his words painting the perfect life which lays in store for you in the future, as well as the perfect life you’re currently living now – all because of him.
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THE END! This is my ultimate fantasy and i have no clue why i never wrote it before now! pLEASE PELASE let me know what you think! thank you very very much! love you all!
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mechaknight-98 · 4 months
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Road Trip (NSFW) FT Nayeon and Tzuyu
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Author's Notes: I just wanted to write a short little 1500 word jaunt but no my brain made it 7500. No matter. It was a fun ride (Pun intended.) Not currently sure what the rest of the release schedule is going to be right now, but there will probably something smaller maybe two however enjoy this special holiday release.
 Driving from Anaheim, California to Houston, Texas is the worst. It’s not the most terrible thing I’ve ever had to do, but it’s in the top 20. Still, it was worth it. I was going to see my favorite K-pop group, Twice, and I would fly back after dropping off the rental. "Take photos," my dad convinced me. So, here I was, driving thousands of miles.
During one of my photo ops stops, I noticed a broken down van, smoke billowing from the engine. Three people were standing outside of it. I sucked my teeth.
“Sucks to be them,” I thought. As I passed, something told me to stop. I didn’t want to, but I did so against my better judgment. I stopped and walked over to them.
“Hey, do y'all need help?” I called out.
A feminine, accented voice responded, “Oh God, yes!” As I neared, I recognized two of the three faces. It was the matnae and maknae of Twice.
“Ehh, Nayeon and Tzuyu?” I said, bewildered.
“Ehh?” Nayeon replied, “You know us?” She added, and I nodded. Tzuyu laughed.
“Good, so no intros needed. You asked if you could help us. Can you drive us to the hotel?”
Tzuyu ran up to me and hugged me tightly, her eyes holding the cutest puppy dog pout. I sighed, resigned to my fate, and said, “Sure, let’s grab your stuff and go.” That’s when you approached.
“Thank you so much,” you said. “I’ll make sure the company pays you back for this.” I shrugged at your words, but you insisted. We loaded everything into the car and raced off to the hotel (metaphorically, of course). On the ride there, it was Tzuyu and me in the front, with Nayeon and you in the back.
“So, what’s your name?” Tzuyu asked with a hint of flirtiness.
“DJ, and you… don’t answer that. I already know… sorry, muscle memory.” I replied. Tzuyu laughed at my gaffe, as did Nayeon. You, of course, got it. They’re stars while you and I are seemingly normal.
“So, who is your bias?” Nayeon inevitably asked.
“That’s a setup… but I’m stupid, so Tzuyu,” I replied confidently.
Nayeon laughed and scoffed, then looked at you with a “Can you believe him?” look.
“Oh, so I’m your favorite,” Tzuyu acknowledged. I nodded, then turned on the Bluetooth for the radio. Tzuyu began to rock out to my heavy playlist as it started.
“Ugh,” Nayeon scoffed.
“I can play other stuff. I take non-country requests,” I replied. You laughed at my response, as you had been catering to the diva for the past few days. Conversely, the maknae piped up,
“No, I like this music. Especially this band. Chaeyoung introduced me to them.”
“Wait! Really? Chaeyoung introduced you to Architects, Tzuyu?” I asked, intrigued.
Tzuyu nodded before saying, “But please call me Chewy.” I gave her a thumbs-up as I continued driving. As we landed in New Mexico, I decided to get some photo ops at the Area 51 museum. Before stopping, I apologized to the rest of the passengers.
“Sorry, just wanted to get some pictures,” I explained. You and the girls nodded as I got out. Nayeon, being her sexy but conceited self, asked me to take some pictures at a nearby station. I obliged, and she posed.
“Be sure to send me those later because I look sexy,” she said confidently. I nodded as Nayeon went back to you. Meanwhile, Chewy politely asked me to take some pictures of her, which I happily obliged.
Her photos bordered more on the cute side, but when she wasn’t taking photos, she made some quite suggestive and flirty comments.
For example, when I showed her one taken with a silly hat on, she said, “Oh, that’s so nice. You make me glow, but can you make me squirm and scream?” Her tone was hushed enough so only I could hear her. I turned to her, and she just gave an innocent smile as if she wasn’t spouting filth.
I chuckled, which she mirrored as we talked.
“So, DJ, are you a professional photographer?” Chewy asked politely.
“Nope, working on getting there though,” I replied.
Chewy nodded before asking another question, “What’s stopping you?”
I laughed and partially joked, “Mostly money and experience. Once I have those, I’ll be there.” Chewy laughed and said,
“Well, I think you’re pretty good.”
While we were talking, Nayeon scoffed, “Chewy is swooning.”
“Really?” you asked.
“Can’t you tell? She’s been extra doe-eyed with him. She’s going to eat him alive, but that’s just her. She always goes for the kind and naive ones.”
“Hey, you used to be like that too, if memory serves correctly,” you countered.
“We were in high school, and I didn’t know any better,” Nayeon rebuked, and you laughed.
“Let Chewy have her moment. He seems nice.”
“That’s the problem,” Nayeon scoffed. While no one was looking, though, she leaned in and sneaked a kiss on your cheek.
“Thank you for ‘being my manager’ for this tour. I can’t think of anyone else I’d rather have,” Nayeon admitted. You smiled at her words before saying,
“You’re welcome, Nabong.” Nayeon’s lips curled upwards in a mischievous grin.
“I think I may need one of your full-body massages,” Nayeon said, emphasizing the word “massage,” letting you know what she meant. You smirked and said,
“Anything for my favorite bunny.”
After taking pictures, I continue the drive to the hotel. Conveniently, we're all staying at the same place.
You, Nayeon, and Tzuyu check in while I search for parking. When I finally enter, I try to be discreet.
"Um, one room for Dracul Bram?" I ask in a low tone. The hostess looks at my ID, then up at me with a confused but amused grin.
"Room 104," she says, "behind the check-in station and around the corner." I give her a thumbs-up and head towards my room.
I would have made it if not for someone behind me calling out, "DJ, where are you going?" I turn to see Chewy waving me over. She’s at the bar with you, Sana, another manager, and Nayeon. Resigned, I join you all.
As I approach, Sana laughs and says, "Oh wow, you’re so tall." I shrug, while you notice Chewy glaring at Sana. You chuckle internally, recognizing that Chewy is interested in me. Nayeon shoots you a knowing look, also noticing Chewy's reaction.
When I sit down, Sana quickly starts her flirty "interview."
"So, DJ, I hear you're quite the photographer?" Sana purrs.
"Um, still an amateur. I lack the funds and experience to be considered 'professional,'" I reply. Sana smirks.
"So why don't we help you get more experience? How would you feel about being my photographer for the concert in Houston?" My mind stalls as I try to process her proposal. The air grows thick, and while I'm dumbfounded, Tzuyu glares at her unnie. You and Nayeon laugh, recognizing the game Sana is playing. Chewy, completely unaware, takes the bait.
"But unnie, I thought you liked Mark a lot more. Maybe you should take him, and I'll take DJ?" Chewy proposes.
"Game, set, match," Nayeon whispers in your ear.
Sana smiles and replies to Chewy, "I don't know. You said DJ takes really good pictures, and I haven't seen them yet..." Before Sana can finish, Chewy quickly says,
"Fine... I'll take the room with Dahyun," Chewy sighs.
"Deal," Sana quickly agrees with a smile. I'm still reeling from the initial proposal as this deal unfolds around me.
Before I can fully process what just happened, the bartender approaches, asking for our drink orders. Chewy, still flustered from her exchange with Sana, quickly orders a soda. Nayeon orders a cocktail, and Sana, with a smirk, opts for something stronger. You and I both go for something simple, trying to keep up with the rapid-fire interactions around us.
"DJ, how did you end up driving from California?" Nayeon asks, leaning forward with genuine curiosity.
"Well, I wanted to see you guys perform and take some photos along the way. My dad thought it would be a good idea," I explain, feeling slightly more comfortable now that the conversation has shifted to neutral territory.
Chewy brightens at this. "So, you like road trips and photography? That's a fun combination."
"Yeah, it's been an adventure," I admit, smiling at her enthusiasm. "And now, unexpectedly, I'm here with you all."
Sana, not one to let the spotlight shift too far, interjects, "Well, it's lucky for us that you stopped to help. Nayeon and Chewy would have  been stranded otherwise." Her tone is light, but there's a genuine appreciation beneath it.
"Definitely," you agree, raising your glass in a toast. "To unexpected adventures."
Everyone raises their glasses, and the mood relaxes further. As we chat, Nayeon nudges you and whispers something in your ear, causing both of you to laugh. 
Chewy, noticing this, leans in closer to me. "So, DJ, tell me more about your photography. What kind of subjects do you like to shoot?"
I start to answer, but I'm interrupted by a sudden buzz from Nayeon's phone. She glances at it and then groans. "It's our manager. He needs us for a quick meeting."
Sana rolls her eyes but stands up. "Duty calls. DJ, it was nice meeting you. Don't forget about our deal."
Chewy stands up reluctantly, giving me a small, shy smile. "I'll see you later, DJ."
As they head off, you stay behind for a moment. "You handled that well," you say, clapping me on the shoulder. "Welcome to the world of K-pop chaos."
I laugh, feeling more at ease. "Thanks. I think I'm going to need all the help I can get."
"You'll be fine," you assure me. "Just keep being yourself. They seem to like you already."
With that, you head off to join the others, leaving me at the bar to reflect on the whirlwind of the evening. As I sit there, I can't help but feel a mixture of excitement and nervousness about what the next few days will bring.
I decide to pay the tab before finishing my drink and heading to my room. I upload the picture to my tablet before sending the photos to Chewy and Nayeon. While going over them one of the pictures of Chewy stands out. I send it to my phone and make it my wallpaper while keeping my home screen something more nerdy. After that, I decided it was for the best if I went to sleep for the night. 
After I finally got comfortable and passed out you and the rest of the girls get out of your meeting. Nayeon Dramatically absconds with you to her room while Chewy checks her phone she notices my pictures. She smiles and sends me a cute little message. She is a little sad when I don't respond. She also decided to turn early.
You on the other enter your room hand in hand with Nayeon. She beams at you ready for her “massage”. She begins to strip for you and your smile grows wide.
“You always look like a kid in a candy store,”
You smile then reply, “With how hot you are can you blame me?” Nayeon grins and looks at you happily.
“Oh, I'm going to enjoy this,” she lies on the bed and spreads her long legs. You marvel at her thick thighs and buoyant ass. Nayeon beams as you stare at her “Well come on fuck me,” she says with an arrogant smile that drives you wild wild. You strip to her as she does her “sexy” shimmy she does whenever she's feeling herself. You line yourself up with her entrance. You rub her clit and pussy with your rod as she patiently waits. After a few minutes of teasing, she jams you inside her.
“Oh yes,” she moans as you bottom out in her. Her tightness takes your breath away as you wait for her to stop clenching you. When her body finally acclimated you begin to thrust in and out of her. She moans uncontrollably as you begin to thrust harder and harder.
“Yes, Yes, Yes,” she moans deliriously from the pleasure. You groan as you feel her tighten before she climaxes. You watch as her body arches back and her slick floods out of her. As she covers you cock and crotch in her cum you keep fucking her until you reach your high. You flood her with semen as you reach your orgasm. As the two of you come down from your mutual high you gaze at the clock.
“Shit! We can't do anymore because we have to get up early tomorrow,” you say stressed Nayeon nods before and the both of you pass out. 
I wake up early the next morning, shower, get changed, and get ready for the day. When I walk out, you, Sana, the other manager from last night, and Chewy are all waiting for me.
“Oh good, we didn't miss you. Congratulations, you've been selected to drive in Twice’s caravan,” you say to me.
I blink a couple of times before saying, “Huh?”
Chewy laughs and responds, “We are still missing one van, so we figured since we are all going to the same place, you could help us out again.” I process the information slowly.
Confused, I look at the group and realize that I’ve been temporarily enlisted into Twice’s caravan. Today, I’ll be driving the manager (Sam), Sana, and Chewy. I blink a few times but relent, “You all know I'm flying back, right?” I ask, concerned.
You nod and say, “As are we.”
I shrug and say, “Well, okay then.”
You clap your hands together. “Good, see you at the next hotel in Houston.” I nod quietly as I pack up. The girls and Sam follow me to the car. As we load up, Sana asks, “Hey DJ, you're big and strong. Can you help me with my bags?” I nod and lift her bags into the trunk. Sana smiles and caresses my arms.
“I knew you could do it,” she says seductively. I nod as Sana goes to sit. Chewy walks close to me, and instinctively I load up her bags. Chewy smiles, and we get ready to go. She takes her seat in the front with me. As I check to see if everyone is buckled, Sana flashes me a flirty smile. Once everyone is secure, I start driving.
Fifteen minutes into the drive, Chewy asks me what music she should put on. I catch myself before saying, “Put on Lorgar’s audiobook.” Instead, I suggest she put on the Whiplash playlist. She does so and is surprised when "Perfect World" by Twice is the first song. I catch the smiles aimed at me, then the confused look when the second song, "Backbreaker" by Fit For a King, comes on. Initially, my passengers are confused, but as they listen to more of the playlist, they start vibing with me.
After about six hours of driving, we make our first stop at a gas station. I take a few pictures of the desert and plains, which Sana sneaks her way into. When I finish, she gets close to me and says, “Oh, you're really good.” I thank her for the compliment, while also noticing Chewy sitting a little way off with a forlorn but cute pose. I snap a few photos before going into the convenience store section of the gas station and grabbing her a snack. When I walk out toward her, I sit next to her and hand her the snack. She looks at me and pouts, “I can't eat that. It will go straight to my thighs.”
I raise an eyebrow. “And why would that be bad? You have the sexiest thighs,” I say. Tzuyu giggles.
“You're just saying that,” she responds. I shake my head, resisting the impulse to pull her closer.
“You are super pretty, and I think one honey bun won't be the end of the world. Fifteen in two hours, though…that might be a problem,” I joke. Tzuyu smiles and leans on my shoulder.
Sana and Sam watch from a distance.
“Oh, she's got him,” Sam says with a laugh. Sana nods with a pout.
“He just looks so cuddly,” Sana laments.
“Yeah, I get that, but you get all the attention. Let Chewy have this one,” Sam replies.
Sana pouts again. “Okay.”
When we all get back into the car, the next song up is "In the Mouth of Madness" by Nightmares. Chewy enjoys it and asks about their other albums. I wince as I tell her this is their only one. She frowns but understands. After that, "Cheer Up" comes on, garnering a few more smiles.
"You like us," Chewy says.
I nod and reply, "Well, yeah. If it weren't for you all, I wouldn't have gotten through the pandemic. I was alone and isolated for most of it, and you nine got me through by being this giant pastel pink sign saying, 'Things will get better!' So I fought on." Chewy smiles warmly.
Sam hears this and says, "The little Once that could." I chuckle along with the rest of the car.
After a few more hours, we arrive at the last hotel. Curiously, we are the first to arrive, beating out the rest of the vans. Cameras and flashes surround the car as we step out. Momentarily blinded, I grab Sana's and Chewy's bags and help them check-in. When I go to check into my hotel, Sam stops me.
"We got you a room," he says. I nod and gratefully take the room key as we head to the elevator.
"Chewy likes you," he says out of the blue.
"What? No," I scoff.
Sam's eyes narrow. "Yes, she does. I have never seen her this engaged with someone, especially someone outside of Twice."
"She's just being nice," I say, still in disbelief.
Sam rolls his eyes as we exit the elevator. "You say that, but she loves the whole knight-in-shining-armor thing. She eats it up, and you being the bashful knight type—she's going to eat you alive."
"You make it sound like she's a maneater," I respond, confused.
Sam grins wickedly before entering his room. "She is, but she has picky tastes. Anyway, be careful—or not."
Left alone with a lot to process, I lie down and think about the day.
"Do I like Chewy back?" I ponder. 
"If I do, am I willing to give up my anonymity to be with her?"
My thoughts halt when I get a DM from Chewy saying, "Hey, can you come to my room? I need help ordering food." Without hesitation, I go. My heart had already chosen for me. When I get to her room, she’s in shorts and a crop top with a giant heart shape on it. She smiles at me.
"That was fast," she teases.
I smile and say, "Well, anything for royalty, I guess." She looks confused.
"Your song, 'Queen of Hearts,' and your shirt," I explain. Chewy looks down and laughs.
"Okay, I thought that was your first humor miss."
"I am always missing," I reply. Chewy smiles and pats the bed next to her. I walk and lie down next to her. She nestles closer as I help her order room service, wrapping herself around me tightly.
A knock on the door interrupts us. I go to open it, and Dahyun, Sana, Nayeon, and Jihyo arrive, along with you, Sam, and another manager, this one female.
"So, you're the Machine God I’ve been hearing so much about. The name's Sara," the female manager says, amused.
I look at her, confused.
Sara rolls her eyes as she says, "Oh, don't give me that puzzled look. You drove here straight without any breaks except a couple of stops for gas."
I nod, understanding now, as I walk back to the bed with Chewy. When I sit back down, you and Nayeon notice how Chewy moves her legs onto my lap.
"Oh, someone is staking her claim," you whisper calmly.
Nayeon whispers back, "I wonder how long until she drops the shyness and he sees her true self."
"Oh, it'll happen before we head back. I can see it in her eyes. She wants him badly, and she's barely containing herself. We probably delayed it tonight."
"What was that?" Sara asked, catching your whispered conversation with Nayeon.
"Oh, nothing, just discussing what we should order for room service after we leave," you reply quickly.
Sara isn't convinced. "Right," she says sarcastically, before turning to me.
"So, DJ, what does DJ stand for?"
Expecting this question, I sigh. "Promise not to laugh?" Everyone looks at me, puzzled but nods.
"My name is Dracul Marcus Bram Jr., but my family calls me DJ," I say. The room falls silent before Sara responds.
"Okay, I see why you prefer DJ, but I think Dracul is pretty badass." I give a thumbs up and try to blend back into the group dynamics. The doorbell rings, and Chewy jumps up excitedly. "I'll get it, Drac," she says, kissing me on the cheek. My mind blanks for a moment. I sit there, stunned, as Chewy fetches the food and returns. Seeing my dumbfounded expression, she smiles.
"What's wrong?" she asks.
Still processing, I hear Sam laughing. When I finally regain my composure, I feel an unexpected calm and confidence.
"I just didn't expect that," I reply. Everyone hears the newfound steadiness in my voice and is taken aback. Usually, when Tzuyu shows her real self to someone she likes, they become more timid. This is the first time anyone has taken her advances in stride.
Tzuyu feels a shift inside herself. In her mind, I transform from "Cute Teddy Bear" to "I want this man to father my children," though only for a moment before settling on "Datable Material."
The silence grows uncomfortable, so I say, "The food looks good, Chewy. We should eat before it gets cold." For the first time, Chewy is the one flustered. She giggles and smiles, bringing the food over. She got a burger, and I got a quesadilla—though it might have been called something else, it had all the ingredients.
Tzuyu and I eat comfortably while the others watch. You notice a change in our body language. We're no longer timidly stealing glances or shyly flirting. Chewy gives me ravenous looks, and I reciprocate with calm, measured passion. If you were more observant, you would have noticed our touches growing more frequent until we were holding hands.
The atmosphere between us shifts. Instead of a bashful princess and her shy knight, we exude the air of two confident equals—me, the composed diplomat, and her, the assertive Empress. Her eyes say she wants to devour me, and I feel the same urge. Yet, with an audience, the battle must wait. We're so engrossed in our little world that we don't notice the others leaving until the door closes and Dahyun says, “Goodbye.” We wave politely, but as soon as the door closes, Chewy grabs me and pulls me in for an emotional, sloppy kiss.
I love it and let her take the lead this time. She broke the kiss. She was frantic, “should I go fast? Should I savor you and make a mess of you?” Tzuyu said as her mind raced. 
I smirked and calmly replied, “It's not a race,” 
Tzuyu gave me the sexiest and most ferocious glare before she said “I am going to drain every single last drop of cum from you and make you scream my name all night,” I surrender to her fervor this time as she brings me in for another kiss. I guess savage maknae wasn't a cute nickname. Her kisses were messy but also extremely hot. She was vicious but she knew what she wanted and I was going to let her have it. 
While she kissed me I felt her hand slip into my sweatpants. I feel her hand reach my rod and she begins to slowly stroke.
She breaks the kiss and stares at me luridly. 
“Ah Tzuyu,” I moan out. Tzuyu smiles
“Whose cock is this?” she asks innocently
“Yours,” I moan she nods happily. 
“Good. Now I'm going to suck my cock and you're going to paint my face. Can you do that for me?” she asks hungrily. I nod as she pushes my sweatpants down and moves to my cock. She continues her glacial pace that I both hate and love. She looks up at me her gaze is ferocious as she devours me. Drool pools around my shaft as sloppily engorged herself. She comes up for air and resumes stroking me.
“Do you like it?” she asks innocently. I nod helplessly. She goes to my frenulum and teases it with her tongue. I moan her name again. She smiles and goes back down on me. I try to hang on but everything about what she's doing to me has me on edge. I tilt her face up bring her lips back to mine and kiss her. Her eyes are wide the entire time with surprise but she happily accepts the kiss. When we break it she smiles. 
“I appreciate your adoration,” she says before slapping me,
“But tonight I'm in control,” she says firmly I nod.
“I'll let that transgression slide because you're so cute, but next time I won't be so forgiving,” I nod and feel my cock twitch in her hand. She notices 
“Are you close babe?” she asks sweetly. I nod and she does everything in her power to get the largest load possible. 
“Oh fuck Tzuyu,” I scream out as I cum all over her face. She smiles as she gets up. She sauntered off like a satiated predator. As I lay there the weight of what just happened hits me. My cock despite having just orgasmed is still rock hard and overwhelming my body with thoughts of pinning Tzuyu down and railing her. When she does get back she is fully nude and sauntering back for seconds. Our eyes narrow as both our predatory natures rise to the surface. Who will be the first to submit? we ask each other with our eyes. I get up and approach her I strip down as well before reaching her. She looks up into my eyes. I see vulnerability but also a deep fathomless lust. I kiss her forehead which makes her smile acutely and then I bend her over the bed and impale her.
“Oh fuck Dracul,” she yells as I fully rest myself inside her. I wait for her to stop shaking, and then I start thrusting. Tzuyu loses it as my cock ravages her pussy. I put one hand on her hips and the other firmly groped her breast. She moans uncontrolled. I take my time with her body searching for the best angles hoping to get her off. Eventually, I find the winning combination of thrusts, touches, and kisses as she yells, “fuck Dracul I'm cumming.” her womanhood tensed and tightened around me before she squirted profusely over my cock. When she finishes I pump my load into her causing her to orgasm again. 
We fall into bed and pass out after that when I wake up we are spooning and my cock is still deep within her. Feeling me stir she moans as she jolts awake she turns to me and trapezes on top of me before she begins to ride me. Her hands pin mine as she aggressively ruts and grinds into me like an animal in heat. With her ferocious tempo neither of us last long as we cum together. She smiles as she gets off of me and my cum drips down her thighs. 
She goes to shower, giving me a chance to do the same in my room. When I finish, I notice a message on my phone:
“I didn't say you could leave. Meet me downstairs for breakfast.”
Tzuyu’s possessiveness is both sexy and annoying, but I comply. When I arrive, she’s sitting with Chaeyoung and Dahyun, looking relaxed and pleased. I grab a light breakfast of an omelet and toast and join them. They all smile and wave as I sit down.
“So, you're DJ?” Chaeyoung asks. I nod and extend my hand for a shake, which she accepts. Then, I surprise them by praying over my food. 
While we eat, you and Nayeon join us. You notice a few bite marks on my neck and discreetly point them out to Nayeon, who laughs more openly. When Dahyun asks about it, you casually say, “Inside joke.”
You grab a plate for Nayeon, who’s “too exhausted” to do much herself. As you sit back down, Nayeon gives you a mischievous glance before turning to Tzuyu and me.
“So, Tzuyu, did you enjoy DJ last night?” she asks.
I laugh and start to get up, but Tzuyu grabs the edge of my shirt, stopping me. I sit back down as she responds, “I did. He was great. Why? Are you jealous?”
The group falls silent. You look at a stunned Nayeon, then an amused Tzuyu. I marvel at Tzuyu, who turns to me and asks,
“So, what are your plans for today?”
I take a moment to gather my thoughts before replying, “Well, I was planning to visit a couple of tourist sites, play some Commander, and then catch the Rockets game tonight.”
Tzuyu eyes me cautiously before responding, “Okay, but get back as quickly as you can. I have some things I want to discuss with you for tomorrow’s concert. We have a soundcheck today.”
I nod and ask when the soundcheck is. She gives me the time, and I reply, “Oh, I can make that.”
Tzuyu smiles and says, “Perfect!”
  After breakfast, we all split up. Tzuyu corners me, and I can see the arousal in her eyes.
“Do you think you could spend more quality time with me tonight?” she asks. I nod, and she smiles before kissing me. Her tongue pierces down my throat, leaving me breathless.
“Be ready. Yesterday, I only got a taste, but tonight I'm going to devour you,” she says firmly, making me squirm. I nod and give her a timid thumbs-up, fighting the urge to let her have me right there. Tzuyu smiles as she walks away.
When I get to my rental car, you manage to find me.
“My boss has been looking over your work, and he's impressed. He wants to offer you a spot for the rest of the tour,” you tell me. I sit in the car, shocked, before responding,
“How much would the pay be? I’d have to quit my job.”
You eye me nervously and ask, “How does USD 150,000 for the rest of the stops sound?”
I blink at you a couple of times, then calmly say, “That works.”
You also hand me a check for $30,000 to cover the rental, gas, and any other minor expenses. I look at you and sigh.
“I’m going to use this to buy more professional camera equipment since everything else is already accounted for and budgeted,” I reply.
You smile and say, “Well, then you'd better hurry.”
I nod and leave, allowing you to go back to Nayeon with a dumb grin on your face.
Nayeon smiles and says, "Based on your look, I assume he took the deal."
You laugh, relieved, and nod, replying, "Yes, and the dummy is using the money to buy more professional gear."
Nayeon gives you a confused look before asking, "Wait, why is that dumb?"
"Well, short answer: we were going to have him use the gear we already had. But since he's doing all this work to get better, newer gear, we get a return on the rentals. So he's saving us money, and we don’t get used gear. Plus, he's the only one liable,” you say, elated.
Nayeon nods and laughs at my over-eagerness. “Okay, great! Now we 
have some unfinished business,” Nayeon replies.
You approach your starlet with the fervor she deserves. She smiles as she watches you strip bare excited to have you inside her once again. You approach her bare body and begin to kiss her feet, because if there is one thing that Nayeon loves it's being worshiped. so you start with kissing her feet, then you meander to her thighs where you let loose upon them. You spent almost an hour kissing biting and licking her thighs until Nayeon couldn't take it anymore
"Fuck me till I beg you to stop" She whined. You smiled before taking your cock out and plunging into her. 
"Ah Fuck," Nayeon moaned as her pussy acted more like a constricting snake than the bunny she moonlighted as. you moan as you impale her. 
"how are you still so tight?" you ask. Nayeon laughs as she coils around you tightening her pussy even more. 
You two begin to fuck in earnest. You grind ruthlessly into each other's hips as both of you attempt to maximize pleasure for yourselves. You loved that you could be as selfish as you wanted being Nayeon's lover because she was equally as selfish. it made all things with her so honest. you lift her hips to get deeper trying to hit her cervix which Nayeon loved despite the soreness it gave her. when you feel your tip hit her cervix Nayeon moans, and you keep pounding into her tight pussy. 
Her walls continue to get tighter miraculously as you push in and out of her forcing her to take more and more of you. her eyes roll into the back of her head as her tits bounce due to the force of your thrust into her. her blissed-out face makes you smile, and yet somehow her pussy tightens around you again. As she starts convulsing she starts cumming violently around your cock. you groan and push through feeling her walls forcibly trying to milk you. you push past the tightness and look at her.
"I love how fast you cum Nabong. It's so hot," you say as Nayeon moans all around you. you keep thrusting into her while her mind is broken by the pleasure she feels. eventually, you can't hold it anymore and you cum inside of her. You moan as she moans your name before flooding her guts with your seed. After that, she begs you not to go again due to her sensitivity.  
While Nayeon and you were having fun, I was getting a myriad of things done throughout the city. After finishing lunch, I got a text from Tzuyu asking me to meet her at the soundcheck, which was a bit earlier than anticipated. So I headed to the venue. I was stopped at the gate by security, but just then, Jeongyeon arrived. She laughed at me waiting and said to the security guard,
"Why is Tzuyu's photographer being held up by you?" The man went pale. Jeongyeon grabbed me and took me with her.
"You're lucky I was here; otherwise, you'd have been stuck until we left," she teased.
"Thanks, Jeongyeon-noon," I said. Jeongyeon looked at me, disgusted.
"Nope, I hate it. Just call me Jeongyeon," she said firmly. I nodded.
"One last question. Do you know where Tzuyu will be?" Jeongyeon nodded and had me follow her.
We arrived at the staging room. She opened the door, and Tzuyu looked up, making eye contact with me before her face erupted into a smile and a light giggle. Jeongyeon smiled and said, "Don't have too much fun, lovebirds," and then left for another area.
Tzuyu scowled, then turned to me with a happy smile, beckoning me to sit next to her by patting the couch. She hugged me and said, "What took you so long, babe?"
I replied plainly, "I didn't have any credentials according to the security guard, and Mal couldn't vouch for me." Tzuyu nodded as she cuddled me.
"Did you have fun before at least?" she asked happily. Dahyun walked in before I could answer.
Her cute, bewildered look was adorable as she asked, "OH! Am I interrupting something?" I shook my hands, and Tzuyu confirmed she wasn't.
Dahyun sat next to us and pulled out her phone. "I was mostly doing banking stuff since Mal gave me a check for helping you all."
Tzuyu nodded and smiled, "Okay, well, it's good to see you." I gave Chewy a thumbs-up, and she smiled. Dahyun took the lull in the conversation to talk to me.
"So, DJ. How are you feeling about all of us so far?"
"I love it. This is the most... interesting time I have had in a while, so I can't complain too much." Dahyun smiled and said,
"That's great."
I nodded at Dahyun as Chewy nestled closer. As we settled in, a camera flashed. Stunned and confused, I waited for my eyes to readjust, then saw Sara and Sana holding their phones, laughing.
Sara turned to Sana and said, "Oh, got the two lovebirds nesting." Sana laughed with Sara as they walked out. Chewy held me tighter. About 18 minutes later, all of the girls were called for the full run-through. I got up, but before I could join them, you stopped me and handed me multiple badges.
"Here are your badges for the soundcheck and tomorrow's concert," you said firmly. I nodded.
You nodded then said, "Now I know you are hired to be Tzuyu's photographer, but feel free to get some shots of the other girls here and there." I nodded in affirmation.
"Great. Now, last thing: have fun. This is meant to be work, but nothing says we can't enjoy it. Although, based on the noises I heard last night, you certainly know how to have fun."
I laughed and threw you a curveball, "Yeah, I’m sure you do as well with Nayeon." You looked at me, shocked.
"You picked up on that?" you asked, bewildered.
I nodded and said, "Just because it seems like I am not paying attention doesn't mean I am not."
You nodded before saying, "Remind me not to underestimate you."
I smiled and said, "Don't worry, everyone does."
You furrowed your brow, then said, "I won't make a habit of it. So, what did you get today?"
"I got the Nikon Z6III, a Z8, and Z9 cameras, and five various Z-mount lenses."
"Wow, you must like Nikon, but question. Why only on hold? You need them, right?"
"I do, but not right now, and I am waiting for the check to clear. So if you are messing with me, I'll know beforehand."
You considered my words. "Hm, that's quite cunning of you."
I shrugged and replied, "If you think so." You laughed before signing off.
I spent the rest of the soundcheck recording videos and taking pictures while weaving in and out of the "crowds." You watched from afar and noticed my shooting style. It's exceptionally patient, which you found surprising, but you didn't watch me for long as your manager duties and your love for a specific bunny-associated idol forced you to pivot your focus constantly. after the Soundcheck, I head back to my rental followed by Chewy, Mina, and Chaeyoung. we hop in and Mina says, 
"So Mr. Bram if that is your real name I have a question for you. What are your intentions without Maknae?" I look at her then Chewy then at Chaeyoung. I consider saying something dumb but decide on the rational option. 
"I like her and I hope she likes me back. otherwise, just take it slow I guess," Mina eyes me suspiciously but relents.
When we arrive back at the hotel I was expecting a quiet night with Chewy, but I am quickly thrust into a party with the rest of Twice as they get out their pre-concert jitters. 
it was hectic among other things. there was drinking, karaoke, dancing, and other shenanigans. I was able to steal a few moments with Chewy and we were able to discuss the photos I took today. She also liked the photos I took of the other members. 
"Hey, lovebirds. No discussing work," a drunk Nayeon said to us as we chatted on the edge of the "party." 
I tapped out at about 12:45 AM, while the Extroverts of the group plus Nayeon (she is an honorary extrovert) Mina, Jeongyeon, and Momo kept going. I got to my room and was surprised to hear a knock on the door. I open it and Chewy is waiting outside. I wince before saying,
"I am sorry Chewy but I can't do anything else tonight." Chewy smiles before saying
"Good me too. I just wanted to cuddle tonight." I give her a thumbs up and we get in the bed before passing out. I wake up before her and shower. after the shower, she looks at me with a hungry look. I sigh and say,
"As much as I would like to spend more time with you I have too much to do." Chewy rolls her eyes before getting up to kiss me and then shower herself. 
"Fine but can I ride with you?" I nod and we get ready.
fast forward we pick up the cameras and lenses. I also pick up more memory and a few other essentials. I charge all of them at the hotel as Chewy and I float around doing our various concert preparations. When we have to leave you and Sara ride with me while the girls ride together. We arrive at the venue and it's on from there.
I hustled around the venue, my camera clicking away as I captured the energy of the final preparations. The air was thick with excitement and a touch of nervousness. Tzuyu spotted me from across the room and made her way over, her face lighting up with a smile.
“Wish me luck,” she whispered, giving me a quick kiss on the cheek. Her eyes sparkled with determination.
“You don’t need it, but good luck anyway,” I replied, grinning back at her.
The lights dimmed, and the roar of the crowd surged through the arena. The concert had begun. I moved through the crowd, capturing the electrifying performances, the fans’ ecstatic faces, and the sheer energy of the night. 
Now and then, Tzuyu would glance my way, our eyes meeting for a brief moment amidst the chaos, a silent connection that kept me grounded.
After the concert, the atmosphere was jubilant. The group members hugged each other, celebrating their success. 
Tzuyu found me in a quieter corner, her face glowing with happiness and exhaustion.
“Thank you for being here,” she said, pulling me into a tight hug. “Not just for the photos, but for me.”
“Anytime,” I replied, holding her close. she tried to protest due to being sweaty and smelly but I informed her that we were well past that
Just then, you approached us, holding an official-looking document. “Well, you made it. (I nod) I take it you had fun? (I nod again) Good well there is only one last bit of business. Are you willing to do the rest of the tour?”
I looked at Tzuyu. Her eyes were hopeful, yet she remained silent, not wanting to sway my decision. I thought about the journey, the connections I had made, and the possibilities that lay ahead.
“I’d love to,” I said, smiling as I took the contract. Tzuyu beamed with joy.
As the celebration continued, Tzuyu and I slipped away to a quieter spot on the rooftop, overlooking the city lights. The night was cool, and the city seemed to sparkle just for us.
“We did it,” Tzuyu said, leaning against the railing, her hand entwined with mine.
“We did,” I agreed, looking out at the horizon. “And it’s just the beginning.”
“Promise me something,” she said, turning to face me. “No matter how crazy things get, we make time for moments like this.”
“Promise,” I said, sealing it with a kiss.
We stood there, wrapped in each other’s arms, the city lights casting a soft glow around us. At that moment, I felt a sense of peace and anticipation. The future was uncertain, but it was bright, filled with endless possibilities.
As the night wore on, I reflected on my journey. From a chance encounter to this incredible moment, I found love, friendship, and a new path in life. And for the first time in a long while, I was truly excited for what lay ahead.
Tzuyu and I shared a final kiss under the stars, ready to face whatever the future held, together. 
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inlovewithpandora · 2 months
Text
ੈ✩‧₊˚ — Summers Of Pandora ᝰ Day 7 - Makeup Sex
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Artists — Neteyam x fem!Omatikaya!reader
Lyrics — You’ve been feeling neglected lately and you’ve tried to express your feelings to Neteyam but he hasn’t taken notice to your hints. When you make him listen and understand how you’ve been feeling he apologizes and makes it up to you in the best way possible, with sex.
Music Advisory — nsfw content, porn w/ plot, suggestive/allusions to sex, light angst, caught masturbation scene (reader), Olo’eyktan!Neteyam, arguing, light/implied neglect
Duration — 2.4k words
Index — Olo’eyktan - Clan Leader • Yerik - Hexapede • skxawng - moron • yawntutsyìp - darling; little loved one • Yawntu - beloved person; lover; loved one
Words from Artist — This was a fun fic to write, writing the argument scenes and upset!reader was my fav part! Always feel free to comment and reblog, I love reading y’all reactions! I hope you enjoy!!
Current Platforms — event m.list・main m.list・event taglist ・prompt list
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Ever since Neteyam took over the role of Olo’eyktan he’s been extremely busy, trying to make sure the village is running smoothly under his ruling so it’s been hard for him to carve out time in his schedule to spend time with you. Due to him being so busy it’s been causing a strain on your relationship emotionally, physically, and most of all sexually.
It’s been almost two months since you’ve been intimate and it’s weighing on you. You’ve been subtly saying things and doing certain actions, hoping that he would catch your drift and realize that you want him but he was too consumed by his new position to read between the lines.
Today he finally has the afternoon off in a long time so you’re excited to spend some time with him, happy that you finally have a chance to rekindle your spark and hopefully gain the romance back in your relationship.
You’ve been making lunch for the both of you to consume for the last hour, wanting to make sure everything is perfect for him when he comes home so when the sound of the entrance flap opening hits your ears, you immediately perk up and a wide smile spreads across your lips as you add the final touches to the food you’re cooking. “‘teyam I just finished lunch and I made your favorites!” You turn around to face him, ready to engulf him with a hug but when his bow makes it into your line of sight your smile quickly falls. “Why do you have your bow?”
“I’m going with the hunting party.” Before Neteyam came home one of the warriors told him the clan had an insufficient amount of meat stored and they need to collect more so they can be stocked for the next few eclipses and not have to worry about hunting for food.
“Can’t Lo’ak lead them? Why do you have to go?”
“Because, I’m Olo’eyktan. I have to lead them, it’s my duty.” Neteyam feels like since the clan is still adjusting to him as leader instead of his father he feels like he should be included in everything that’s going on in the clan which includes hunts. He knows that there are warriors that are more than capable to lead a hunt but he wants to do it so he can establish and solidify his new authority.
“But this was supposed to be your time off, you promised me that today we would spend time together.” You’re beginning to grow frustrated at the fact your mate is putting more of his attention on the wellbeing of the clan than noticing how this is affecting you. You know how important being Olo’eyktan is and how excited he is about taking over the new position but you just don’t want your relationship with him to falter in the process.
“Can you please just put the village aside for now and just focus on me?” You plead with soft eyes, placing your hand on his cheek, hoping he would prioritize you at this moment. “I’ll make it worth your while.” Your tone turns slightly sensual as your hand slowly runs down his chest towards his abs, making their way to the rim of his loincloth so you touch your favorite part of his body, the part you’ve been craving to have for so long. You’re hoping that a gesture towards being intimate will make him want to stay, especially since it’s what you’ve been wanting to happen.
Neteyam opens his mouth, about to speak but before the words can escape his lips a foreign voice comes out of the blue. “Come on bro, everyone is waiting on you!” Lo’ak shouts from outside your mauri, coming to see what’s taking his older brother so long to come join the hunting party. By the look in your mates eyes you can tell he’s still firm on his decision with leaving which makes you upset and roll your eyes at him, hating that once again he’s choosing the clan over his own wife.
“Fine, Neteyam. Have it your way, go be Olo’eyktan!” You remove your hand from his skin and begin to shoo him out of the marui, not even wanting to look at him anymore. In your eyes Neteyam didn’t care about spending any quality time together so why should you? While he’s trying to put together a sentence you push him out the marui and close the doorway flap and tie it shut, not wanting to hear whatever weak apology he was trying to muster up.
At this point you’re fed up, you’ve tried and tried to make Neteyam notice you, trying your best to make it known that you need him, that you yearn for him and he gives you absolutely nothing in return. You haven’t been able to have him pleasure you in the ways you adored, his hands running feverishly down your body, his mouth latched to your breasts, and his fingers clawing at your slick covered walls.
You miss those moments with him and whenever you attempt to initiate something he always says he’s ‘too tired’ or ‘too busy’. You’re tired of denying yourself pleasure just because he won’t provide it so you decide to take matters into your own hands, you’ll just have some intimate time with yourself.
After an hour of hunting Neteyam and the warriors were able to find a good amount of yerik and other animals for the clan to consume. Neteyam lands his ikran and begins to walk to your shared marui. He feels bad for leaving you home even though he promised to spend time with you for the first time in ages so while he walks his mind is filled with different activities for both of you to do since he’s home for good.
While his mind whirls with different plans and ideas the sound of light moans and whimpers pulls him out of his thoughts. At first he assumes it’s just some random couple somewhere in the forest that are having sex but he soon realizes the sounds are coming from the direction of your marui.
Being the skxawng he is, he doesn’t assume you’re doing anything sexual, he thinks you were hurt and in pain, even though your choice of sounds clearly say otherwise. He speedwalks to the marui, slightly pulling back the flap to see what’s occurring inside. When he peeks his head inside his eyes lay on the most majestic sight, your beautiful naked physique sprawled out over the bed, your finger circling over your puffy clit while every so often dragging your fingers between your wet folds.
Slick, wet noises are accompanied by your angelic voice as you begin to thrust your fingers into your sopping, dripping cunt imagining it was Neteyam’s cock stuffing you to the brim. “M’fuck ‘teyam!” His name rolls off your tongue like sweet nectar, as your fingers curl against your g-spot, making your brain become fuzzy with pleasure. Your body feels so good and relaxed, it’s been so long since you’ve felt something around your velvety walls or fingertips slightly pinching your nipples enough to shoot a wave of pleasure down your spine so you couldn’t hold back your whimpers or moans, or control how your arousal is dripping down your hands and smearing your thighs.
To see you pleasing yourself and chasing your high, arching your back, how your mouth hangs open when you hit your soft spot, how swollen your clit is from you rubbing it smoothly with your danty fingers, and how your starting to cream with each thrust of your hand, causes his loincloth to tighten from his growing bulge due to the sight of you.
He doesn’t know the reason behind you doing this act but he’s curious more than anything. He pulls the flap back and attempts to quickly walk inside and not make any noise but his tail has other plans when it decides to thump against the floor.
Your eyes open at the foreign noise and your eyes meet Neteyam’s, causing you to feel a hint of embarrassment from him witnessing you that way. You hurriedly grab a woven blanket that’s nearby and cover yourself up, trying not to feel so exposed. “Neteyam, what are you doing back so soon?” You hiss, not liking the fact you were interrupted right when your orgasm was going to ripple through your body and it was finally going to make you feel sexually satisfied, something you haven’t felt in a long time. When he’s usually with the hunting party he’s out for at least two hours so you expected to have more than enough time to satisfy your needs without him knowing.
Neteyam ignores your question and asks his own. “What were you doing?” He knows what you were doing, he’s not an idiot, but the real question he asked was ‘Why you were doing it?’ and you know that.
“It doesn’t matter Neteyam, just leave me alone okay?!” You stand up with the blanket wrapped around your body and walk to the other side of the marui, not wanting to be in the same space as him after what he did earlier. You’re still angry with him for leaving you alone, making you resort to pleasing yourself when he’s more than capable of doing it if he would just spend time with you.
“Yes it does matter, you’re my mate and I-”
“Oh, now I’m your mate? I don’t feel like much of a mate when you don’t make time for me anymore!”
Neteyam doesn’t know what you’re talking about, he feels like both of you have been spending a good amount of time together. Yes, he knows that he’s been a little busier than usual with him now being Olo’eyktan but from his perspective he feels like he makes out enough time for you, or does he? “What are you talking about, I make time for you, for us!”
The scoff that emerges from your throat is so harsh that it makes Neteyam regret his previous sentence. At this moment you’re so angry with him because how doesn’t he understand. First he doesn’t spend any real quality time with you and then he has the nerve to stand in your face and lie. “What am I talking about?! We haven’t gone on a date in months, we haven’t been able to sit down and eat dinner and have a real conversation in weeks, and we haven’t had sex in Eywa knows when!” Your tone is fierce and loud, thankfully your marui is in a secluded area in the forest because you know your voice is echoing and if anyone was nearby they would hear everything you’re saying.
“You haven’t touched me in months, Neteyam! You’ve been so busy with being Olo’eyktan you forgot about me and my needs, you put everyone before me, before your mate!” As you ramble on, finally releasing all your build up emotions that have been weighing on your chest, Neteyam begins to process your words and realization settles in his mind. He begins to think back to all the times he’s unknowingly brushed you off to the side.
Neteyam was sitting at the wooden table in the center of your marui, brainstorming new raid strategies for when the hunting party strikes against the RDA. You saunter over to Neteyam with a smile on your face, happy to see your mate after a long day. You’ve been waiting for him to come home so he could satisfy your desires. “‘teyam you should come to bed.” You stand behind him, placing your hands on his shoulders running them down his muscular chest.
“I can’t yawntutsyìp, I have to finish this tonight.” He says, weaving his head to the side as you try to place soft kisses on his cheek. After multiple attempts of trying to get you to come to bed and him turning down your pleas, you turn on your heels and sigh, sluggishly walking to your bed, without having Neteyam by your side.
Playing that memory in his head makes him realize that he hasn’t been prioritizing you the way he thought he was, that he’s been too busy worrying about his new position than his own wife. “Yawntu, I’m sorry. I now realize that,” His hand reached out to touch you but you jerk away from him with a scowl across your face, not wanting him to touch you. He doesn’t say anything in regard to your actions, knowing he deserves it for his poor treatment toward you. “I now realize that I’ve been neglecting you and our relationship and I’m really sorry. I feel like such a skxawng for not noticing it sooner, please forgive me.”
By Neteyam’s tone of voice you can tell he’s sincere and truly sorry for his actions but you aren’t going to just forgive him that easily, he has to work hard for your forgiveness, it’s the only way you can make sure he doesn’t put you both in this situation again. “Prove to me how sorry you are and maybe I’ll forgive you.” Neteyam thinks you are joking at first but when he hears the sternness of your voice he knows you are serious. He does want to show you how sorry he is and make up for all the nights he’s left you lying awake longing for his sweet touch so he’s willing to do whatever it takes to be back in your good graces.
He looks at the empty table behind you and an idea clicks into his mind. Before you can process what’s happening you feel Neteyam lift you up and place you on the wooden table, unwrapping the blanket that’s covering your body and letting it fall down on the surface below you. His hand snakes around your neck as he leans forward and presses his lips against yours, slipping his warm tongue in your mouth, beginning to make up for lost times.
Neteyam knows exactly how to make your body melt from overstimulation and cause your eyes to roll to the back of your head so even if it takes all day and night, even if he’s worn out from rutting into your tight hole, even if his jaw is hurting from eating out your delicious pussy, he doesn’t care if his body is sore and covered in hickeys, as long as his beautiful mate is satisfied and forgives him that’s all that matters to him.
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bunnysbrainrot · 1 year
Text
But I’m Better
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Kintober prompt: Toys
Relationship: dbf!Joel Miller x fem!Reader
Content: explicit sexual scenes, praise kink, guided masturbation, dom/sub (kinda) dynamic, size kink (kinda sorta). No outbreak AU, age gap (Joel is around his mid-40’s, reader is early/mid-20’s).
Summary: When something breaks, you always know who to call. Your dresser is broken, and you’re left hopeless. But what happens when Joel finds something peculiar in your drawer?
A/N: Y’all. I am so pissed right now because i wrote so much on my drive home, and it deleted because of a bad connection. i can’t recall everything i wrote, so i did the best with what i could remember. i hope it’s up to your liking!
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“Shit,” you grumble as you stare blankly at the clothes strewn across the floor. The knob of your dresser drawer sat stupidly in your hand, the mangled wood and metal mocking you. It looked completely ruined.
You thought about messaging your dad about the repairs, but chose against it. He was never exactly notorious for making these things simple - it would be a question of ‘So how did this happen?’ or ‘How did you manage to break it?’, and it really wasn’t worth the effort for you.
The knob sat in your hand, the screw that held it in the drawer was bent to the side, and incredibly dull. No surprise there, you thought.
To be fair, it was an old ass dresser, given to you by your grandmother when you were younger. It was weird to think that you’d had this dresser for over twelve years.
You bent over the pile of clothes and hoisted the hefty drawer in line with the empty space, grunting in frustration as you tried to shimmy it in. It was settled haphazardly and tilted backwards. Completely screwed up. You took your phone from your pocket and snapped a photo of your mangled dresser, sending it to Joel.
Dresser finally gave out, I guess. Knob fell clean off when I tried to open it
Almost immediately, Joel haha reacted to the image and began to type. He was unlike any other man you’d talked to before. Joel was timely and consistent, and he was always reliable. Even if he didn’t have the time to help, he would instruct you on how to solve an issue, but typically he helped you in person.
As much as you tried to deny it, your feeling for Joel had warped over the past few years. It began as a silly childhood crush - those early days where you and your friends joked about what older men were sexiest. Your friends had given you teasing looks when you mentioned Joel, and even more shocking was how long you’d liked him. It was a simple, harmless, childhood crush.
Until it wasn’t.
You were freshly eighteen and readying yourself for college when the realization hit you. After all those years having crushes on older guys, it would be considered okay. Weird and taboo, sure, but still allowed now that you were legally an adult.
Joel had come to your graduation dinner at the end of senior year. You remembered that night in vivid detail. More particularly, Joel’s presence set your skin ablaze with a new type of anxiety. At long last, you could freely crush on Joel, except that there was now a chance he could like you, too.
That night he’d passed you a small velvet box, tied neatly with gold ribbon. You opened the box to reveal a gold, oval-shaped locket with a simple clasp. Inscribed on the face of the locket were whorled spirals, breaking off as flowers scattered over the gilded surface. Gazing up at Joel, you couldn’t contain your joy as you gave him a quick hug. He briefly wrapped an arm around you, holding you close by the small of your back.
He broke away, smiling proudly at you below him.
“You did a great job, baby girl. You keep that up in college, and you’ll get by just fine.”
You were thankful dessert had arrived in time for you to turn your attention away, hiding your rouged cheeks. Joel probably didn’t remember that night, but you remembered every little thing.
You’d done your four years of college and after the endless nights with little to no sleep and hard work, you were finally graduated, and taking a gap year before considering anything further. You worked hard, and didn’t want to burn yourself out with more school immediately.
But now you were back home, and your sights were set on something else. It was a golden opportunity to spend time with Joel - time that you’d lost by being away for so long. Holiday visits and summer break was hardly generous enough to give you any alone time with Joel. You left for college as a timid girl, developed yourself as a whole, and came back a woman. A woman who knew herself and her wants.
And you wanted him, ached for him in a way you could neither define nor justify. He was almost twice your age, a wholly developed man with his own complex past and unsteady dating life.
Mr. Miller.
He had lived in the next neighborhood over for as long as you could remember. He and your dad met about ten years back at a ‘work thing’, as they described it.
Joel was kind and endlessly generous when it came to helping others. He was the first call when something broke, and the best person to have over when times were tough, despite his sometimes-rugged personality.
You’d gotten back in town over a week ago, and since then you’d seen Joel a few times, mostly to ‘inspect’ the furniture in your room - if anything had worn down over time and needed to be replaced, the whole nine. The both of you knew it was some bullshit excuse to see him at work, with those corded muscles flexing under his tanned skin, sending shivers down your spine.
That day, the two of you had enough bravery in you to flirt. It started out lightly, you gave more emphasis on Mr. Miller, until Joel requested you call him by his first name.
“Makin’ me feel like an old man, darlin’,” he teased. You remember how he sounded saying it, with a voice as thick and sweet as molasses.
Before he’d left he’d held you by the waist, staring a little too closely at your face, watching your eyes grow wide when he leaned toward you. He fixed your hair with a gentle hand, said your name, and trailed off, his eyes never leaving your lips.
He refused to kiss you that time. Though the time after that you’d decided to break the boundary, drinking him in like someone dying of thirst. You memorized his scent, the softness of his skin and rough, eager hands across your chest, between your thighs, your throat. You both had been greedy that night. It was a high that coursed through your senses. You needed him, more than you led on.
I’ll get my toolbox, looks like it could be some old hardware. Be over in 10.
You picked up around your room in the meantime, your heart fluttering in your ribcage with each passing second. The room had become stiflingly hot. Suffocating.
A knock at your bedroom door startled you out of your anxious stupor. You reached for the door and now faced a smug Joel Miller in the doorway.
“I could’ve met you at the front door, you know,” you chastised him playfully. Joel shifted his weight of his feet, pulling something from his pocket.
“Helps that I have a house key. Means I can help you even faster.”
You rolled your eyes at him and turned on your heels without a word, striding toward your broken dresser. Joel followed casually, craning his head to look around your room, at the decorations that covered the walls and ceiling. This was no longer the bedroom of a the kid he’d met all those years ago. No, you were fully your own woman now.
“Yup, the screw’s shot to shit,” he muttered, holding out the drawer’s knob to you. “See the end of it? Shouldn’t be that dull - gotta have it replaced every now and then.”
“Do you have the right screw for it?”
He nodded, popping open his toolbox and assessing the different screws in each compartment. His hands flexed with each movement, the veins branching across them shifted with every twitch and roll of his thick fingers. Your legs clenched while the most intrusive thoughts filled your head. Specifically those hands, and what you could imagine them doing to you.
Procuring the right screw, Joel handed it to you. You looked at him in innocent confusion.
God, those eyes. If he had the chance, Joel would look into them all day, to let himself get swallowed whole by their beauty. And when you looked at him all pretty like that, as if you had no idea what you were doing to him, it drove him wild. You knew exactly what you were doing when you’d flirt with Joel, but couldn’t gauge his reciprocation, or if he was even okay with the weird ‘relationship’ you had.
It had been confusing for long enough. Someone needed to make a move, and Joel wasn’t sure if you had it in you to do it. Neither were you.
“I wanna see you try it for yourself,” he explained.
“If it’s so easy, why can’t you do it?” you quipped with a smile, but still taking the knob in your hands. Joel gave no reply and waited patiently for you to back down and do it yourself.
It was far easier than you thought. You handed it back to Joel with a proud smile. His eyes thoughtfully scanned your face before finding home in your eyes.
“Smart girl. I knew you could do it.”
Heat rushed across your cheeks like a harsh sunburn, completely taken over by the brightness in his honeyed tone and brown eyes. Joel laughed at your reaction before he worked on the drawer knob, fiddling it into place. His hands rummaged through your drawer as he worked, and paid no mind to the clothes, though you just realized. This was your underwear drawer - full of lacy underwear, bras of all varieties, and one final item you prayed you hid well enough.
Joel’s hands pushed through your panties as you held your breath. After the drawer had fallen out you’d lazily threwn everything back in the drawer and paid no mind to its organization. Since it wasn’t on the bed or the floor, by accident, you were certain that Joel would cross paths with a toy of yours.
He struck something solid amidst the clothes. The material was solid and heavy, with a bit of give from the silicone. At that moment, he could’ve left it ignored, but there was no fun in that, he thought. Joel gripped the dildo at the base, pulling out of the tangle of clothes and handed it to you, flashing you with a smirk.
“You should find a better place for this,” he drawled. “Never know who could find it.”
You quickly grabbed it from him and scanned your room for another hiding spot, but nothing came to mind. Instead you plopped it back in the drawer, on the opposite side.
“Most people don’t get to go through my underwear, so you can’t give me shit for that,” you grumbled. Joel stood, groaning at the strain on his joints. You giggle at the noise, and gave him your usual teasing, “Old man.”
Ignoring your jab, Joel leaned against the chest of drawers, arms crossed over his chest in a stare down.
His voice was dark. It had become devious, knowing, and more stern than you’d imagined.
“You use it on yourself?”
You choked on your spit harshly, not expecting his question to be so direct. Joel placed a wide hand between your shoulder blades and gave you a pat, coaxing you back to normal.
“Joel,” you pant, catching your breath, “you can’t just- just ask me that.”
“And you wouldn’t be curious if the roles were reversed, I’m sure,” he said coolly.
The redness had returned to your cheeks while you debated on your answer, but your hesitation told Joel everything he needed to know. In the smallest way, you’d let it slip that you imagine him in your free time, not that it wasn’t the same case for him. If anything, it’d been worse. Every text you’d sent him set him ablaze; at night he thought about you in detail and palmed himself through his pants, or pumped his cock in a fervent hand as he thought of you, squeezing himself inside your tight pussy. Countless nights he’d stained himself with his own seed, wishing it was inside of you instead, where it belongs. That toy should be him, it always should’ve been.
“Do you?”
You huffed and turned away from him, striding toward the bed to adjust your pillows - any sort of casual distraction from the question.
“Why do you want to know?” you countered.
Joel’s hands brushed against your hips from behind, his feather-soft fingertips brushing across the skin above your jeans. You drew in a breath as Joel whispered next to your ear.
“Because I’m a selfish old bastard, and I’m wondering what it looks like.”
“What what looks like?” you ask softly. You knew precisely what he meant but you wanted to hear something from him anyway.
He burrowed his head at the crook of your neck, gently kissing your skin up to the soft spot below your ear. His breath flew over your skin hot and heavy, sending a new wave of heat to your core.
“I want to see your face when you’re all filled up. I gotta see what your little pussy looks like when it’s all stretched out.”
You pushed your hips back flush with his to find a growing bulge trapped in his jeans. Joel rolled his hips into your ass, groaning at the constraint of the rough denim.
“Joel,” you breathed.
He mumbled against your neck, “What is it baby girl?”
Shoving your ass against his crotch, you whined, “I need you. Please… need you so badly.”
His hum rumbled against your skin, sending goosebumps rolling across your arms. A hand wound up to your hair and tugged a good handful back toward him. You gazed up at him with those beautiful glossed over eyes he dreamed about. He pictured this look on your face for a few years now, and he finally had the joy of seeing it, of causing it himself.
“Not givin’ it to you yet, baby,” he tugged once more on your hair when you whined in protest, “Gonna try something different first.”
In one movement you were facing him, finding two dark eyes staring you down, pupils both blown in lust. Joel gripped the back of your head carefully now, cradling you like something precious, something coveted. This was exactly how he saw you. You were someone to protect and take care of, and now it’s shifted to something far more intimate. Joel vowed to himself that he would make you feel every ounce of pleasure you’d been missing out on. All those nights where his hand replaced your pussy built up a frustration only you could truly fix.
Joel crashed his mouth to yours, as he’d done twice before this, and the kiss sent the same heat through your body. You clenched your thighs in a pitiful attempt to gain pressure against your swollen clit, nestled sweetly between your soft folds, soaking your underwear with your slick.
He pressed you backward until your knees hit the edge of the bed. The kiss was no short of pure ecstasy. The way his stubble scratched against your cheeks, the way his breathing grew heavy when you bit at his lower lip, the way his tongue edged into your mouth to explore every inch.
You gasped when Joel pulled away, watching him step to your dresser and draw out the dildo you’d hidden back inside. He turned to you with the toy in hand, wobbling slightly in his grip.
“‘S a pretty big one, sweetheart, you actually use all of it?” his voice was far too casual for a man holding your dildo.
You offer him half a nod, “Kind of. I’ve been trying to get… all the way in.” Joel assessed your words before he joined you on the bed, holding the toy against your stomach, at the base of your pelvis. He let out a low whistle when he saw where the toy’s length ended at your tummy, past your bellybutton.
“All of that inside you… felt pretty daring getting one so big, huh?”
That wasn’t the case and it was the most embarrassing part. The truth is, you chose the size based on your image of Joel. You didn’t even know how endowed he was, but you let your fantasy of him take over. That, and the time your hand brushed against his erection during your last kiss.
“I wanted to see if it would feel like you,” you admitted.
Joel’s eyes crinkled with his laugh, “Darlin’, a toy don’t compare to the real thing. Not really.”
You jabbed his arm at his teasing, “Listen, I’m doing the best with what I got, okay?”
“Yeah, but it’s not the best you could get, now is it?” he purred, pushing forward to plant a kiss on your neck. You shook your head, knowing he was exactly right. The toy would never really feel like the real thing.
You glanced up at him with a nervous expression, furrowing your brows, “What did you want to do?”
Joel looked at you coolly and leaned back onto his elbows. He eyed you, then the toy in his hand, then back to you.
“You gonna make it fit - take it all the way - and I’m gonna help.”
Crimson shaded your cheeks at the thought, staring nervously at the toy. Surely you were wet enough to take it, but the action of pushing further, to get it in completely, had been a challenge. In hopes to boost your bravery, you hunched over him, kissing him harshly as your hands flew to your pants. You fumbled with the waistband and slid them off of you, until you were stark naked, laid and bare before Mr. Miller.
He simply drank you in as you sat nervously in the lamplight. Joel eyed you darkly, his eyes raking from your quivering thighs, your slightly hidden sex - masked by your censoring hands, to your perk nipples atop each soft breast, and to your face, eyes half-lidded in pleasure adjoined with your soft panting.
“Jesus.”
You ducked your head sheepishly, shaking slightly to decline the compliment. Joel looked you over fondly as his hand found your cheek, brushing a thumb over your cheekbone. You glanced down at him, still giving you that goofy smirk and a excited glint in his eye.
Joel kept eye contact as his hand traveled down your body - through the valley between your breasts, down your tummy, to just above your slit, daringly close to dipping between your wet folds. You pushed yourself into your knees and knelt at his side, your aching cunt exposed to him in the dimly lit room.
He trailed his hand up each thigh, halting just before he reached your pussy. Each touch was carefully light in a way that made your whole body shudder against him. A single finger slithered up your thigh once again, finally finding its way through your slit, nestling comfortably against your clit and drawing lazy circles.
You cried out against a hand held at your mouth. Joel’s hand smelled of metal and bourbon, mixed with pine and lemongrass. He smelled smoky and fresh and completely warm against your face. You bestowed your face into his palm as he gained a rhythm on your clit, drawing out the smallest cries against his skin.
“Nice and wet for me already, darlin’, that’s good… that’s such a good girl. Drippin’ and ready.”
Another dumb nod has him chuckling while his finger skirted lightly across your clit, teasing the bundle of nerves until your stomach grew tighter.
“Gonna cum, baby? You gonna cum for me already?” His comment draws another moan from you, falling like a melody past your bitten lips, a chorus straight from heaven, just for Joel.
“It’s okay, baby doll, go ‘head. Cum for daddy,” he said sweetly, the Southern drawl thick through his words.
You unravel around him, jolting your hips as your orgasm takes over your senses. A soft cry sounds through your gritted teeth; you gently grind your hips onto the pad of his finger to ride through the shockwaves. Joel leans up to kiss your shoulder, his lips warm and supple.
“Just as beautiful as I imagined,” whispered Joel. His tongue skirts along your skin to your neck, fully sitting beside you to bore his eyes into yours.
You glanced back at him with lust-blow pupils, steadying your breath as his hand slowed its tempo. Joel gave you a lazy smile, the lamplight catching the salt-and-pepper hairs of his scruff in a soft display of his rugged features.
“Can,” you started, “you be… inside me?”
Joel’s hands found your hips and gripped snugly. The look in his eyes was nothing short of affectionate. Even still, he shook his head.
“Not tonight darlin’,” he replies, “I want you to show me how you look using this-“ he points to the dildo on his opposite side, waiting. “Since you think a toy could be so much better than me-“
“That’s not it at all,” you protest, “I needed something, Joel.”
He holds up a hand to stop you mid-sentence, “You could’ve asked me, but ya didn’t, did ya?”
You gave him a scowl, “I didn’t think this would happen, Joel.”
Ever since you hit eighteen, he wanted you to practice calling him by his first name purely out of comfortability, and since you’d grown up, it seemed more fitting.
He doesn’t reply, but his smirk grows when he brings the dildo over to you, sitting between your thighs. It was embarrassing enough with how little of the toy you could handle this far, and to do it in front of Joel seemed doubly humiliating.
Joel gives your ass a small smack to lift you up. You rise, letting him set the toy between your thighs and beneath your throbbing entrance. He cleared his throat, daring your attention back to him.
“Go at your own pace, but get it all in, sweet girl.”
All thought had left you - your only reply being in an eager nod. You started off slowly, notching the toy in at your tight hole, and slowly bounced yourself along its length. Your legs shook with each movement as you filled yourself more and more, every gyration sent shockwaves of pleasure through every inch of your being.
It took a few moments to ease yourself fully, now bouncing on the dildo’s length until it became glossy with your slick. Joel eyed you affectionately. Your face twisted in ways he couldn’t imagine, and your cunt wrapped around the toy in ways he could only dream of.
Joel patted your thigh as you bottomed out at the hilt of the toy. He pawed at your hips, kneading at the tender flesh of your ass, and pulled you into a grinding motion, setting the dildo ever deeper into your cunt. It struck a new spot deep inside of you, pushing against your cervix. A low moan fell from you as you moved your hips absentmindedly, solely following Joel’s command.
The tightness in your stomach only grew as his praises flowed through your head.
“Such an obedient lil’ thing.”
“That’s a dirty girl, gettin’ all needy like that. Wishin’ it was me in your sweet pussy, don’t you?”
“You have no idea how badly I want to fill you right now, baby doll.”
You mewled softly as another orgasm crashed through you, your hips sputtering as you ground onto the toy. Joel’s hands caressed you through your high, though he didn’t stop tugging your hips. He beamed lazily when you cried his name once again, shuddering around the toy nestled inside of you.
“Attagirl,” whispered Joel, “so fuckin’ beautiful..”
You shook your head at him like before, but he showed no signs of backing down from his stance. Joel peppered your thighs with kisses and he lifted you off the toy, listening to your whines as you were left feeling empty. His cock twitched in his jeans, eager to play.
But not yet. He needed to see this first.
“How was that, sweet girl?”
A beat of silence said every unspoken thing you’d come up with. It was good, but not mind-boggling. Not the ‘fucked til you’re dumb’ pleasure you’d expected from tonight.
Joel patted your ass, “That’s the thing. Toys… they feel nice. But-“ He plants a kiss to your cheek, then your lips, grazing over the swollen skin.
“I’m better.”
The next few minutes consisted of cleaning after yourself and settling back into your clothes. Joel fixed your hair neatly before looking you over.
“Cant stay long tonight, darlin’, gotta get back home.”
You sighed dramatically at him, to which he scoffed away the gesture. On his way out, he gave you a far more longing look - a loving, thoughtful gaze that told you one thing.
You were his. Completely and wholly. It was clear he saw you differently now, as you did him.
Joel fucking Miller.
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MDNI spacer is by cafekitsune!
hi everyone! thank you for so much incredible support on this fic!
Just FYI: Blood Flow, and Daddy’s Girl are now up as parts 2 and 3! have fun, lovelies
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sakur4ii · 28 days
Text
Rooted Connections Pt.2
Charles Xavier x Reader x Erik Lensherr
the gender of the reader is not specified
Note: I will not make a third part, I hope you like it. Also reminder that English is not my first language, let me know if there are any mistakes I didn't notice (especially with pronouns).
Summary: feelings come out, plants love romance and you are still as blind as in the first part.
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Finally, peace.
After supposedly saving the future from great chaos, Charles decided to reopen the doors of his school, offering you to stay with him. You accepted because you didn't want to leave him alone, feeling his sadness through the earth. Although in reality, he wasn’t alone; he now had his students, but the connection the three of you had created was so strong that you feared that if you also left, he would break again.
Years have passed, and now the school is full, and you are a teacher.
You walk through the halls, searching for something, maybe someone, though you’re not sure. The mansion’s plants have warned you but haven’t specified anything, so you proceed cautiously, trying to find some intruder.
"Professor Y/N,” you hear, a voice you know well.
“What is it, Jean?” You turn around; you can’t see her clearly, but you can feel her nerves and hear her heart beating faster than usual.
“Someone is approaching from the backyard.”
Before she finishes speaking, you are already running to the backyard. The plants don’t want to reveal anything, and for some reason, you don’t feel any unusual presence, leading you to assume that the earth doesn’t want you to know who the intruder is on purpose.
Once your bare feet touch the green, damp grass, you stop feeling the presence of everyone at the school except for the person sitting on the grass a few feet away from you, and Charles, who is coming up behind you.
You take slow steps toward the seated person, hearing a gasp behind you. You sit down next to him and wait for Charles to come closer until he is on the other side of the man.
“What are you doing here, Erik?” Charles asks. You can feel his conflicting emotions through his voice. On one hand, he is happy to see him again and that it isn’t to stop him from killing all of humanity and condemning mutants. On the other hand, he’d love to punch him again for prioritizing revenge and abandoning him.
But you focus more on the absolute pain you feel from Erik through the earth. You can feel him mourning, yet also very angry, seeking comfort to avoid vengeance.
When Charles doesn’t receive any response, and you can assume he also starts to feel the man’s emotions, you wrap your arm around Erik’s shoulders, pulling him into a side hug, enough for him to start crying.
“I tried,” he sobs into your neck, while Charles sits on the ground, leaving the chair aside and firmly holding Erik’s hand between his own. “I tried to live like them, to blend in, and they… they killed my wife and daughter.”
You don’t know what to say; you don’t know how to comfort him with words, so you just rub his back. You know Charles is afraid of saying something wrong, something that will only make the situation worse, so both of you remain silent, comforting your old friend (and the third missing piece of the puzzle) through gentle touches.
“I didn’t know where else to go… you’re all I have left.”
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You weren’t born blind; you had the privilege of seeing the color of the sky and vegetation. You had the privilege of having a favorite color, but an accident occurred, and it was no longer worth thinking about things like a favorite book or a favorite flower because you couldn’t see anything anymore.
Plants are very talkative; they always have been. They love to gossip, and they love drama. The day before the accident, they were very hysterical, sensing something bad was coming, but they couldn’t say what.
Then the accident happened, and you were hospitalized. The plants felt guilty, apologizing over and over, even the plants you didn’t know but who knew you, apologizing and feeling ashamed that they hadn’t been useful, that they couldn’t prevent the tragedy.
It was when you lost your sight that your powers began to manifest: control of the earth, the ability to feel through it. Your mentors were the plants, the trees, and the earth itself. You learned that you could see through the roots of trees, and that was an easy way to find something or someone.
When you met Charles, even before the man arrived at your house, the plants were more talkative than usual. They told you everything they knew, like how Logan was from the future and needed help, your help. But they mostly talked about Professor X and a puzzle. You couldn’t understand them, but their excitement amused you.
When they freed Erik from that cell, the plants began talking non-stop again, once more about a supposed puzzle and Erik’s entire life, about how angry they were with some of his actions but how much they appreciated him.
The first time they fell completely silent was when Erik shot Raven; the second was when Erik fled to avoid being captured.
The third time you didn’t understand the silence; you were listening to Charles reading to his younger students, and out of nowhere, the plants fell silent, a mourning silence.
And the fourth time was the day after the third when Erik appeared unannounced at the school. Although it was more for drama—did I mention they are dramatic?
Erik stayed at the school, purposely obtaining the room that was between yours and Charles’.
If before the plants always talked about Charles, Erik, and his family and the children at school, now, whenever you entered your room, they only talked about Charles and Erik. You only heard about the children if you went outside.
A couple of years have passed. Erik is visibly better, happier, and that makes you happy because it’s real, he’s not pretending, and you’re the first to know that.
-------------------------------------------------------
Your room is a madhouse; you feel like you’re losing your sanity. They won’t stop talking about how handsome, intelligent, and kind Charles is, or how hot, serious, and cunning Erik is. They have the audacity to tease you for not being able to see them, those bitches. When did they go from remorse to mockery?
“What time is it?” you ask, tired, sitting on the edge of your bed while putting on your sunglasses. They all ignore you, except for some jasmine flowers Charles gave you for your birthday along with some heart-shaped sunglasses.
You leave the room, grateful for the silence the hallway plants give you. You don’t know what to do; maybe you’ll go to the kitchen and eat some ice cream, you’re not sure.
When you arrive at the kitchen and take out a tub of ice cream and a spoon, you’re surprised that no plant has told you not to eat something so cold in the middle of the night, raising your suspicions.
You focus on the earth, sensing how all the children and adults are sleeping, everyone except Xavier and Lensherr, which makes you sigh tiredly.
Lately, the plants not only wouldn’t stop talking about them, but they also did everything possible to ensure you spent most of your time in the same room with them, and you only complied because deep down, you wanted that too.
You finish the ice cream and walk through the halls to Charles’ office, without any obstacles in the way (the children make sure not to leave anything lying around that might hinder you, even though they know you could easily avoid it; they fear you might get distracted and have an accident).
—“Come in”— you hear in your head, making you jump in place, and some nearby flowers laugh.
You open the door, and for some reason, they’re both sitting on a three-seater couch. Charles’ wheelchair is set aside to not get in the way, and the plants laugh conspiratorially.
«Speak of the devil…» a flower murmurs, sparking your curiosity.
“Can’t sleep?” Xavier asks. You shake your head. The other man is silent; you know he’s watching you, his intense gaze on you. Sometimes you think he has the power to read souls and keeps it a secret.
Charles laughs at your thought, but you don’t notice him elbowing Erik to stop being so obvious.
“Come sit with us, darling.”
The flowers and plants in the room react as if the pet name was directed at them, as if expressing what you don’t dare express even in your own head for fear the telepath might discover your feelings.
Smiling, you approach the couch. Erik, the closest to you, takes your hand and guides you to sit between them.
“What were you talking about?” you ask.
“Nothing important; we were just planning to take the older kids on a field trip, maybe,” Charles responds, and you know he’s not lying, but from the booing of the plants, you can tell that wasn’t what they were discussing before you arrived.
Erik remains silent; you can’t figure out why. Lately, you can’t sense his feelings, only his emotions, and you can guess that the earth is hiding them on purpose—or maybe the metal?
What you do sense is his knee brushing against yours and his gaze trying not to linger on you for too long.
You tilt your head to one side, sharpening your hearing, trying to pick up something more; you don’t know what, but you want to hear all their movements and, above all, the beating of their hearts.
Just when you perfectly hear their rapid heartbeats, the plants start making a ruckus, making you frown.
“What’s wrong?” Erik finally speaks.
“Why don’t the plants want me to hear your heartbeats?”
Unbeknownst to you, Erik and Charles share a wide-eyed look of complicity.
—“We should tell her”— Erik.
—“Now?”— Charles.
The silence between the two men creates a lump in your throat. Since that day on the plane, you felt like you were missing something in the dynamic, all because you couldn’t see. You felt out of place in moments like these, where they might be communicating with just a glance—or worse, telepathically. You hated the thought that they were having secret conversations, thinking that they were using the fact that you couldn't see to communicate in secret. And you hated knowing they were communicating because you could feel the change in emotions through the ground, but what you hated even more was that now you couldn't even feel the emotions of the two men because nature decided to turn its back on you this time.
Tired, you get up from the couch.
"Sorry for interrupting your time alone, I'm going to bed."
You avoid the obstacles you can't feel now but know are there.
"Y/N, no, wait! It's not what you think, let me explain," Charles says, while Erik gets up and runs towards you, grabbing you so you won't escape (and without you knowing, preventing you from bumping into the closed door).
"Listen to them, listen to them, listen to them," the plants chant in unison as you squirm in his grip. The earth allows you to see through your feet again, finally letting you feel the emotions of the two men, which makes you stop struggling and fall into shock at what you're sensing.
"You two are in love," you whisper.
Erik leads you back to the couch and sits you down so that you're facing the telepath, while he hugs you from behind and hides his face in the crook of your neck. He's embarrassed.
Charles gently removes your sunglasses, and you can feel his emotions not just through the ground but also inside your head. He takes your hand in his.
"We’ve been debating whether or not to tell you; we didn't know how you'd react, darling."
"So much secrecy just to tell me you two are dating? I'm not homophobic if that's what you were worried about," you say with an amused smile.
You're sure both men are rolling their eyes.
«Don't be an idiot» a flower says.
"Shush."
Charles laughs while Erik raises an eyebrow in a questioning manner towards him, knowing he's missing something.
"We're not just dating, Y/N. We love you as much as we love each other, and we want you to be a part of what we have because you're the missing piece of the puzzle," says Charles.
"And we want you to be officially ours," adds Erik.
Their words take you by surprise, making your heart race a thousand miles an hour. You're sure you're blushing, and loose words echo in your head.
The missing piece of the puzzle... ha... that sounds familiar.
At some point during the evening, you moved to Erik's room (the one furthest from the other rooms, with only one flower that you gave him a long time ago), where you shared kisses, hugs, words, and feelings. Where you expressed the great love you share, making grand plans for the future. And where you realized that you never were out of place; rather, you had always been missing, so they could feel complete.
The End.
+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++
@djlnkaled @kindlover @only-nope @larissa1379 👋❤️
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sunnys-out · 8 months
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Alexia, mi reinita, mi amor, mi todo | Alexia Putellas x Reader
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A/N: Not me wanting to get this out still on Alexia's birthday like I'm turning an essay in at midnight. Ok honestly I would write a part two of this but that's only if people are interested. Again requests are closed for now.
So it's a little angsty, has a little hurt/comfort (I know this woman gives the best hugs let's be real), and some Alexia fluff.
Based on this prompt list: #4, #20
Warnings: Anxiety/panic attack symptoms
WC: 1860
Alexia had resolved it in herself that she would use whatever leverage she had to have you stay at Barcelona. She was not the type to use that card…she was not that kind of player…the type to threaten to leave to get what she wanted, but the thing she wanted was you. She had tried to speak with some of the staff about it but they were “conveniently busy”. With no success, she texts you “Voy a casa, te veo pronto, amor” (I’m going home, I’ll see you soon, love)  before driving over to your shared home.
Barcelona was dragging their feet with regards to your contract of whether you would be renewed or be traded to some other club, some other league, some other country. You had spent 4 years dedicated to Barcelona and had earned your spot in the midfield. The statistics you pulled throughout your career there were phenomenal, the kind that made your girlfriend proud to see because she was there from the beginning. So why was Barcelona playing a cat and mouse game with your livelihood?
______________________________________________________________
“Alexia, mi Reinita, mi amor, mi todo (my little queen, my love, my everything),
You know that I am better with my words written on paper than spoken to you. You still make me nervous when I look at you; I still blush as quickly as I did when we first met. I write this to you because I’m going to America to Bay FC…the deal has been done and the announcements will be out in a couple of weeks, but I wanted you to be the first to know. 
______________________________________________________________
The amount of times that Alexia had found you at that kitchen table with your head covered by your arms crying out your frustrations at another deal that went nowhere. She would never say a word and just quietly wrapped her arms around you and kissed the back of your head before laying hers on it. Once the crying stopped her hand would gently rub your back until eventually you began to move and pulled her into a hug with your head at her abdomen with a quick whisper of “let’s go to sleep”. Her only words would be “of course, cariño (dear)”.
______________________________________________________________
I know how you are mi amor (my love) but fighting the club is not worth it. It is hard to swallow the reality that the club that I grew up watching, grew up to play in, does not carry the same love and dedication I had for them…for me. You were one of the first people I met 4 years ago when I transferred from my club team in Mexico. It was a big move and you were there to just welcome me in, you knew immediately that I did not take change very well and was uncomfortable with everything. 
______________________________________________________________
Alexia, at some point, blocked some sports news outlets on your social media because of how overwhelming the “(y/n) Transfer Rumor” posts were getting for you. You did not want to leave Barcelona, you had made a home there with Alexia and the thought of leaving all of what you had terrified you. 
You could already hear the comments from the “fans” questioning your loyalty, why you couldn’t just confirm that you would be staying at Barça or leaving the team all together, why you were silent on the rumors? Alexia would be there with her head on your shoulder quietly holding you in the kitchen quieting the noises in your head with a simple kiss to the temple.
“Mi princesa, go sit down.. I’ll make dinner” she’d whisper into your hair as she led you to the table and made dinner while you watched with warmth at the woman before you. 
______________________________________________________________
I remember you would tease me about my accent when I spoke Spanish and said you would give me lessons if I made you a bag after you saw me crocheting mine on the bus to my first away game. I know that the Spanish lessons were just a way to spend time with me. You could have asked me to be with you at any point and I would have said yes. I remember you teaching me how to dance in our kitchen one night after saying that I was worried about making a fool out of myself at my brother’s wedding. I’m going to miss our 3 am dances we would do when I was pacing the kitchen stressed out of my mind on this transfer.
As you said, “Here I don’t want you to walk back and forth alone, just dance with me instead…I'm here”. I still remember the feeling of you under my palms; every curve, every line as I would take the lead of the dance and you would look at me calmly guiding my hands like how you did when you first taught me…yeah I’ll miss those quiet moments the most. 
______________________________________________________________
You had not gone to practice that morning due to stomach issues and you had to basically push Alexia out of the door so that she went to practice. 
“I’ll get some rest do not worry, mi Reinita” You say as she answers with a quick kiss.
She grabs her bags and gives another kiss pulling you in,“I’ll be home as soon as I'm done ok?”.
Alexia entered through the doorway of the shared home and saw several moving boxes littered on the floor. Confused, she looks for you as there is not the usual soft music that you play when you are doing chores and finds you wrapped in a blanket sound asleep on the couch.
Her bag is gently put to the ground as she rounds the corner of the couch. She sees the coffee table littered with papers and your phone with an unread message from her.
She quietly looms over the papers, seeing a copy of your original Barcelona contract, the proposal, the rejection to the proposal, another club offer and, finally, the letter to confirm intention to transfer. Your phone lights up with another notification; getting the attention of Alexia who notices the handwritten letter that remained unfinished under your phone. 
You were a semi - heavy sleeper so she picked up the letter and began to read as her soft smile appeared, fell and then reappeared.  The boxes made sense now, you were organizing your things ahead of time to leave. Seems that you received the news that morning, explaining why the staff were busy when Alexia tried her best to speak with them.
She looked down at your handwriting again…she’s so familiar with it as you have always littered her spaces with sticky notes of encouragement, love and everything in between. You always thought she had thrown them away but on your 2nd year anniversary she showed you the box where she had kept every single note that you had written to her. 
It didn’t matter to her; she kept all the ones that said “Hi Ale, can you get some milk?”, “Reinita, there is dinner in the fridge”, “I’m too lazy, I ordered pizza oh and I guess Patri is coming over?’ 
This letter no matter how long she will keep especially close to her.
Alexia sat at the other end of the couch and began to read the last bit of the letter.
______________________________________________________________
I know that I will be so far from you and that you will miss the things that I do. You were always a romantic like that mi amor (my love). That’s why I am going to leave you my favorite book, the one that I always read way too many times and have cried over just as much. The only thing that I ask is that you don’t open it until I am gone and you are missing me. Just saying not to is going to make you want to open the book even more but please listen to me on this one. :)
I don’t know what the fixtures of the NWSL are yet but I know that you will want to -
______________________________________________________________
You stir and stretch out your legs pushing Alexia in the process. The resistance pulled you from your sleep.
Alexia laughs softly as she pats your leg, “Sleep well, cariño (dear)?” 
You only nod as you rub the sleep from your eyes. Without a word, you sit up and look at Alexia who fiddles with the note that you had written. 
“I wish I was at least awake when you found out, amor (love)” you start as you shift over to be closer to her.
“Are you mad at me?” your head now lying on her shoulder.
Alexia looks, almost, offended at the comment as she turns to you.
“This is your decision, cariño, you know that I will support in whatever you do and wherever you go…I’m sad, yes, but seeing you living out your dreams has been a honor for me…so no I’m not mad solamente bien orgullosa de ti (only very proud of you)”.
She pulls you closer, her hand softly rubbing your arm as she hears the small sniffles coming from you.
“Promise me you’ll watch at least one game” you say softly.
Alexia laughs and kisses the top of your head, “Amor, I’ll watch every one”.
______________________________________________________________
The announcement came and went and so did you. You found yourself preparing for the inaugural season for Bay FC. The fans had taken a liking to you immediately and the management welcomed you with open arms. 
Alexia, remained in your shared home that now was quieter without your presence. The spaces that normally were filled with little posts were bare, the days for chores weren’t filled with your questionable music, and Alexia no longer needed to dance in the kitchen at 3 am.
After a particularly hard practice, Alexia returned home missing you more than usual. As she plopped down on the couch her eyes fell on your book that you left behind for her.
She remembered that you had asked her to not open it until you were gone to your new club.
Fried Green Tomatoes at the Whistle Stop Cafe by Fannie Flagg, it was the book that you read every year during the summer without fail. No matter how many times you read it, Alexia would see you tear up and close the book to compose yourself before continuing. 
She got the book and opened to the first page and seeing a small, sticky note,
“I miss you, mi reinita”.
Alexia flipped the page and found another one,
“You can text my mom for her soup recipe, she’d only give it to you”
A laugh escapes her as she continues through the book finding more and more of your notes that you had written out. She skips to the end and finds an older looking note.
“I love you, Alexia Putellas…” with the date of your 1st anniversary with Alexia.
And below with newer ink and dated the day that you had left.
“And I… I still love you, even after all of this time”.
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crazilust · 3 months
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astrology observations pt. 5 (i believe)
remember, if this doesn’t resonate, leave it, scroll away and forget it. i wanted a summer theme, so i’ll do it on this post why not 💛
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🐬🍋🌊🌅 🐬🍋🌊🌅 🐬🍋🌊🌅 🐬🍋🌊���
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🐬 I wish I could look a Sag sun in the eyes and tell them that no matter how little or big they achieve, they’re worth something. That they don’t have to chase the next big shiny thing, that they don’t have to be a millionaire by age 30, that they don’t have to « be someone » because they’re already someone.
🍋 We’re always talking about how lucky Jupiter natives are and how free spirited they are, but the truth is, Jupiter is also about expansion and sometimes I feel like that expansion translates in a pressure to be exceptional. And in this society, in this world, being exceptional is only valued at a material level. The number of Sag suns that I’ve met that felt like complete failures at like 20 years old is not normal. They’re so harsh on themselves. I wish I could give them all a big hug
🌊 The power of pisces mercury lies in their intuition. As virgo’s sister sign, it makes sense that Pisces mercuries don’t find their answers through logic and evidence-based facts but rather intuition and feelings. It can be hard for them to trust that gut feeling or to feel intelligent cause if someone asks them « well how do you know? » their answers most likely will be « Eh, just a hunch » But trust it, it’s one of your many gifts
🌅 I used to be so fascinated with people with Aries and Gemini in their birth chart cause I found them so comfortable with people, the life of a party type of people and so damn charming. As I grow older though and begin to see life in nuances of grey instead of straight black and white, I’m able to realize that those people often suffer from people-pleasing tendencies, a sense of self that is either broken or fragile and codependent behaviors. It’s like their sense of worth is tied to how much people like them.
🐬 Cancers are very loyal, I know it’s not a popular sign on mainstream medias and people love to shit on them, but the truth is, Cancers will have your back, no matter the placements. If you’re ever loved by a Cancer, make sure to treat them right !
🍋 People who are not that much into astrology will meet a Leo and be like “omg, you don’t act like a Leo at all, you’re not arrogant or an attention whore” When we look at Leos celebrities, it’s easier to see that arrogant, flashy, extra side. But irl, we rarely meet that “kind “of Leos, right? (Except at bars lol) The reason for it, I found, is that Leos, for the most part, have personas. First of all, they’re a lot more private than you’d think. I believe that most Leos loooove attention, but they also know when it’s appropriate to show it or not. Depending on their other placements, they’ll decide when to grab that spotlight and when to leave it to others.
🌊 I had this girl that I knew that was a Leo sun (and I’m sure a bunch of virgo placements) and everybody was shocked of her sun sign because she was introverted, quiet and observant. But she was still a theater girl, wanted to be the main character (preferred the villain), veryyyy assertive when it came to her boundaries or what she liked and didn’t liked, and very extra and colourful in her outfits. The reason why I don’t like mainstream astrology is because it’s a bit childish in the way it describes a sign. You can love attention but show it in a way other than screaming and dancing on tables. This girl, for example. To me, she was a Leo sun to a T.
🌅 Aquarius placements 🤝🏽 their desires to connect with someone through intellectual stimulation, but refusing to show and acknowledge their deep rooted fear of intimacy and vulnerability
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and that’s it from me, folks.
-B.
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myfandomprompts · 1 year
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You Belong To Me Now
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Summary: Aemond has become Prince Regent, and there is now nothing holding him from claiming you.
A/N: Quick smutty darkish!Aemond x Reader I wrote, nothing fancy
Words: 2.8k Masterlist [Spanish version - Wattpad by daisy_dont]
Warnings: praise kink, biting, vaginal, bruises, choking, obsession, dom, blowjob
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Aemond had been Regent for a few months now, and although the Valyrian steel of the Conqueror’s crown didn’t rest upon his head yet, it was now an undeniable fact to every member of the realm that he had been born for this. All could finally witness his real worth, his superiority and how good he was at being a commander, a King.
No, he excelled at it. The Blacks haven’t even dared to approach King’s Landing even once in the last few months, and under his command all fear him, all obey him. He was far better at this than his father ever was, than his sister ever will be, and certainly than his broken brother is, tucked in his bed.
His new duties obliged him to be away often, to ride Vhagar and lead his armies on the usurpers who wanted to decimate them and take his city, but when he was back in the Red Keep, all he sees is you.
In fact, he wonders why he had never noticed you before as he crosses paths with you in the corridors, watches you in the throne room during audiences, laughing and hugging your lady friends. Maybe you are part of a House who came to the capital in order to help grow his army, that you are the daughter of an ally he had never bothered to be properly introduced to, because this was all they were to him: his subjects.
Nevertheless you are there, bright as the sun when he spots you when he least expects it and, despite his limited vision, he doesn’t seem to miss your presence, ever. He doesn’t miss the way you play with your hair when you're deep in thought, how your hips sway when you walk, how your fingers surround the glass you take to drink and how the skin of your throat glows as you swallow the liquid.
That he became obsessed was an understatement. There was no rest for his mind, and even amidst the excitement of the battle he thought about your appreciative look when he would return, triumphant. He had talked to you once, the sound of your voice making the hair on his skin raise in delight as he was introduced to you. He knew your name now, and he wouldn't stop there, you occupied every corner of his mind and inhabited his skin.
However and to his greatest dismay, the crown keeps him occupied, reducing the occurrences he can observe you, enjoying how you don't cower under his gaze; you staring back at him like it's a game, one that he never intends to lose.
He doesn’t miss the glances you draw from other lords either, eliciting an icy violence deep within his body and it makes his desire for you grow ever greater. He wants you to be his, completely.
This is why he sends for you one night, confident that you cannot refuse after spending the day looking at you like a starved dog, the lust between his legs becoming harder and harder to control. But he was Aemond Targaryen, and what he wanted, he would have. 
When you enter his chambers and he dismisses his servant; you look at a loss, but intrigued, like a deer caught between hounds but you are still composed, the very image of a Lady from a House he had only bothered to learn its name today. All he knows, deep in his gut, is that you are right where you are supposed to be.
“Do you know why you’re here?”
He takes in your looks, the way your eyes glints with curiosity, the heaving of your chest constricted in this infernal gown he only wishes to rip off, and how sweet you look as you blush out of uneasiness.
When you shake your head so softly, he grins before coming to stand before you. “You’re here to help me with a matter that needs tending to. But first, I need assistance removing my clothes.”
The widening of your eyes makes the colour of it stand out better, and he waits for you to process his order and obey, admiring your beautiful features and the way your lips part in shock. “Go on."
He knows you cannot refuse, seeing the slight confusion in your eyes as your hands reach the buckles of his collar, undoing it one by one with your pretty, trembling little fingers. It takes all of his patience to not move his hands over your form and revel in the sight, smiling to himself.
When his green doublet is removed, his linen shirt remains and he doesn’t let you take a breath when you pull away. “It’s not over, is it? Continue.”
You cast an almost fearful glare at him before resuming your task, helping him out of his shirt gently with concentrated eyes and when your skin touches his in the process, he has to stop a shaky exhale from escaping his mouth.
He sees how you look at his toned chest, pale defined arms, and then glance at his trousers with tight lips. He retains a sneer as he turns away from you and towards his bed, surprising you with his sudden departure.
“Do you know how the other lords look at you, sweet thing? How they look and look, like they had a chance with you? Do you know how much they wish they could bury their cocks into you and take you as they pleased?”
You turn a lovely shade of red, spreading from your face to your neck and below your cleavage, his lewd words disconcerting you and your perfect little honour. How he likes it on you, that innocence.
“Of course you don’t,” he continues, taking a seat at the edge of his bed and not missing a piece of your deliciously growing, panicking state. “You don’t care about them, do you? You just care about serving your Kingdom at most of your capacities.”
You swallow, your body noticeably relaxing lightly at his words but the movement draws his eye to your neck and he instantly wishes he could mark you there, right at the junction of it, where a mole he had not noticed before lays.
“My Prince, I-”
“Come here,” he beckons, patting on his lap after your croaked out attempt of a response. He will spare you the need to explain that yes, you do want to serve your realm loyally, and thus serve him as well. 
You hesitate, eyes darting between his legs and his face, and the lust grows at the thought that he might have to make you obey by other means. But at the sight of his hard expression, you have the good sense to approach, slowly, coming to stand between his legs and he grabs your hips at once, lowering you down onto his lap abruptly.
You let out a yelp at that, your legs forced to straddle him and you have to cling on his shoulders for support, face flushed and thinking fast. Aemond, on the other hand, feels every cell of his body come alive, a wicked smile appearing on his face.
“You know, I haven’t been with many women, but you… you’re something else, aren’t you? You make me understand why men look at women the way they do, what they find so irresistible about them....” he murmurs, putting one strand of your hair aside while his eye trails the pumping of the veins in your delicate neck. “Why all of those lords look at you… But they can’t have you.”
His tone is firmer now, unforgiving. “I have a claim on you they don’t have, and I don’t think it’s a coincidence you came here. That you are in this castle, under my protection.”
You seem unable to speak and the little noises he hears as you try to take a more comfortable position on his lap are like music to him, making him harder under his pants. He takes your hips a little too roughly than he intended in order to pull you to him.
“I’ve been thinking about you for days now, and I ran out of patience, so here is what is going to happen, sweetling. You’re going to take my cock, fully, like the sweet and obedient lady you are so I can feel every damn corner of your cunt, deep enough for me to fill you up.”
With his last sentence he pulls you closer onto him so you can finally feel his hardened state and you whimper in shock, the sound resonating into the room like a pathetic echo as he takes in the sweet scent of your skin, his nose trailing your neck hungrily.
“Hmm, my little pet, so flustered…” he praises as you tense on top of him, your pelvis hitting his member delectably. “You didn’t think I rode the largest dragon in the world and had nothing to show for it, did you?” 
He takes a few more moments to enjoy the friction of your layers against his groin, feeling your body turn soft before gently pushing you away from him to let you unlace the ties of your gown with a commanding look. When you are bare before him, he licks his lips, the sight of your pretty little pussy making his now free cock throb in anticipation.
“You are gonna take me so well, you want to please your Prince, don’t you?”
The way you quickly nod in submission destabilises him so much that he has to take a moment before finding his composure again, his desire slowly growing out of control as he stares at you. But he must be patient, enjoy this, because he is no low man, nothing like the rest of them. So he sits back on the bed and invites you to him, noticing your already blown pupils staring at him.
He doesn’t care that you aren’t prepared, that it might be difficult for you to take him this early because the urge to sheath himself deep inside of you is too strong. But when you hover over him and your folds meet his tip you are so fucking wet that all his fears are swept away, replaced by the indescribable lust that takes hold of him, eager to have you, exactly like you want him.
The sensation makes him unable to concentrate before he puts his hands on your thigh to help you down, and it’s absolutely amazing. You’re warm, tight, right for him; the sweet moan that escapes your lips making him twitch as he looks at your knitted brows that tells him you are feeling him, truly feeling him. You go achingly slow and he can’t help but hiss in frustration, but at this point you deserve to have your own pace; he will be able to take his due later, when you’re accustomed to him.
He can tell from your expression that it hurts, and it makes his loins surge with fire at the thought, the wickedness of it so darkly satisfying. 
“That’s it, all of it. You’re doing so well.”
He finally feels resistance nudging at his tip and he knows you are completely his now, looking at his cock buried deep inside your cunt and you let out a high pitch moan when you still, flesh against flesh in the most deliciously painful kind of way.
It feels right, he can almost feel your heartbeat upon his length and when he slightly withdraws in order to surge his hips forward, instantly hitting your depth hard, you wail loudly.
Aemond laughs as he squeezes your hips harder. “My sweet pet, so beautiful for me. How is it to feel it so deep? Do you want to move for me?”
He grunts when you start to move; he doesn’t have to do anything, your warmth and slickness making him absolutely wanton, and he doesn’t think he had ever felt this complete in his life. It allows him to look at you, take in your bouncing breasts, magnificently round, and he can’t help but reach for them, propping himself up on a sitting position before biting one of your nipples hard, and the sound you let out makes him want to do it again.
But for now he wants to mark you everywhere, your jaw, your neck, your collarbone, your delicate shoulders. He wants to cover you with his tongue and bruise you while you ride him so exquisitely, his mind foggy and half conscious. He feels your nails digging into his back when he sucks at the base of your neck, leaving a trail of drool that covers your skin. He bullies your breasts for his own pleasure and his cock feels every one of your jolts, squeezing him.
He makes you swivel, his length briefly sliding out of you before he lays you down on your belly and enters you again, lacing one arm behind your back to help him pound into you mercilessly, taking full control for the first time and it feels so good that a shameless growl resonates deep within his throat.
“You’re married, aren’t you?” he asks with a grin, admiring your back and the curve of your ass.
“Promised…” you pant through your moans. “To Lord Blount…”
“I see… Then Lord Blount will have an assignment in a land far away very soon,” he purrs with arrogance as he quickens his pace.
The new angle makes you moan loudly, your position seemingly uncomfortable enough to make each rocking of his hips like it’s the last you’ll be able to take. Soon you’re clenching around him, screaming out loud while your shattering orgasm turns you into a puddle in his arms when he lifts you against his chest, whispering in your ear.
“Fucking hell, you like that, don’t you? You couldn’t help but come all over my cock like the good lady you are.”
He keeps jerking his hips until you grow completely silent, feeling his legs momentarily weak when your walls give him a particularly strong squeeze and he withdraws.
You’re unable to move so he lets you lay back on the bed as he examines your folds, red and swollen from his brutal pace and he passes one finger between them to gather your slick. You moan at the sensation as he tastes you, licking his fingers hungrily.
“Bloody Seven, you taste delicious,” he praises as you try to find your breathing. “You’re mine from now on, understood?"
He barely acknowledges the curt nod you make before he laces his fingers around your neck, drawn to its softness and the bruises that begin to form there. He strokes the column of it softly, thoroughly, before grasping the base of your throat so he can hold on to it, hovering over you as he slides gently into you again, your folds spasming briefly from your aftershock. He sees you close your eyes, hiding your beautiful irises from him and he wishes you would look at him, something you do when you feel his hand around your neck constricting.
“Aem-” you let out.
“What is it?” he asks, watching your lips make the most amazing sounds he had ever heard while he rocks into you, his weight on your neck. “Is it my name you want to say? You can scream it if you want.”
But you don’t, to his greatest displeasure, apparently unable to do so as your features stiffen, so he snakes a hand to your dripping cunt, zoning on your swollen clit and you tremble beneath him. When he works your bud, fingers circling it at an unrelenting pace, your lips form an “o” and he decides here and there that he will cum in your mouth. For now, he concentrates on the roll of his hips and the movements of his fingers, one over your neck and the other making you grind onto it in yearning.
You are at his mercy.
“Will you scream my name now, pretty little thing? I can feel you close…”
It takes a tremendous effort from his part to not come undone himself when you finally do, trapped at his own game as you pulse around him, your back arching, and the way you finally cry out his name doesn’t help the little restraint he has left. He growls when you go limp under him, unwilling to let go of your neck and overstimulated bud as he works you through your climax.
“On all fours,” he commands when he finds enough composure to speak, propping himself up on his knees on the mattress and daring to pump himself a few times while you do as told.
He instantly comes to grab your hair, your expression completely in disarray from his brutal ministration on you and, when your mouth meets his weeping head, he can’t process anything, the contrast between the intensity of your folds and the soft warmth and slowness of your tongue killing him. He has the greatest desire to buck his hips into your mouth, to take it all, but your tongue traces along his throbbing vein right before you suck at his most sensitive part and he finishes right there with a croaked moan, painting your mouth with his seed.
You are both panting hard, and when he looks at you behind his hooded eyes, admiring his work, he brings your chin between his fingers and wipes your lips, glossy from his release. “You’ll be there each time I come back, won’t you, pet?”
You nod frantically, exhausted before falling on the bed next to him.
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A/N: Thank you @babyblue711 & @arcielee for the beta reading, so much <3
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misstycloud · 3 months
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Love on a loop
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What the hell do you do when you can’t seem to break up, no matter what you do?
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You stared blankly at him, a hundred questions ran through your head all at once. On the inside, you were panicking. You had experinced a range of emotions in just a span of a few hours; pain, regret, sadness, anger and great confusion.
All this happened while he, you boyfriend, simply looked at you with an unsure smile. He tilted his head and asked with a slight chuckle, “Are you okay?” When you didn’t answer, he decided to return to his previous question, of which you didn’t respond to either. “Ehm, do you want one egg or two? We only have three right now, but you can have the two, since I feel bad about always eating all the eggs.” He laughed.
You finally decided to speak. Your voice wavered a bit when you inquired, “What are you doing here?”
Your boyfriend paused his happy expression, and frowned. He glanced around as if he didn’t know what to do with himself. “I live here? Or have you gotten a mysterious case of amnesia?” He joked.
“No, you don’t- not anymore.” Your emotions turned to annoyance, and it was evident in your tone how displeased you were with him.
The irritation in your tone gave away that you really were angry at him and that it was not a silly attempt to be funny. What you could be upset about, he had no clue. He searched in his mind for anything he could’ve done to land him in the dog-house, but found it empty. There was nothing he could think of that would start a fight.
Your boyfriend switched off the stove and gave you his full attention. He asked in genuine bewilderment, “Love, is everything alright? Have I done something to make you mad at me- although, considering you liked me yesterday, I frankly can’t imagine how I could’ve fucked up so fast.”
Your mouth fell open. The audacity! “What are you doing? Why are you back here? I don’t get what you’re playing at but it is not funny. I just- what??” You pointed towards the door. “Get out!” You didn’t like to shout, however, this situation demanded some force, whether it was pleasant or not.
It was evident on his face that your yelling had hurt him. That sad, hopeless expression always made you melt in the beginning of your relationship. Everytime you would fight, he would put it on full display and immediately after you’d feel bad and apologise for whatever the fight was about. He stayed quiet as he untied the apron around his waist and hung it on a chair.
“Hey….I don’t know what this is about- seriously, I don’t! But you need to tell me if somethings wrong, I can’t help fixing it otherwise.” He held his arms up in surrender and began approaching you.
“No, don’t come closer, you need to go! Get out.”
“Love, I’m gonna hug you now. Is that okay?” He continued his advance. The way he spoke to you reminded you of someone trying to soothe a frightened animal; yes, you were freaking out- because of him! He was the one acting weird.
You backed up against the wall. “I don’t want your hugs- no, don’t touch me!” You felt a shiver down your spine as the familiar embrace surrounded you.
Your attempts to pull away proved fruitless, his grip was like iron chains. There was no way you could get free. Still, your small tugs continued even after you’d exhausted all of your strength. Your boyfriend stroked you hair, undoubtedly to calm you down. It was meant to be comforting, but the only thing you felt was uneasiness.
This was crazy. You had no idea what was going on. You were absolutely certain that the two of you broke things off for good yesterday.
You’d waited for him to come home that day, which he did, all happy of course; now he was able to see you. You had decided to cook his favourite meal in preparation to soften the blow. It was unlikely it would do anything to help, but it was worth trying anyway. You recalled how his mood turned from happy to totally elated. He chuckled and asked if there was any special occasion(it was, although not in the way he wanted).
You say him down and let him eat himself half-full before you broke the news to him: you were planning on leaving him. He took it surprisingly well compared to the expected reaction. Of course, there was the crying and self-blame, but after that he seemed to accept your decision with a sniffle. He was kind enough to let you have the apartment, he insisted even as you said that there was no need to concern about it yet and you could decide later on. He packed his essentials in a bag and threw the rest of his belongings into boxes and moved out the same evening. Again, you explained he didn’t have to but he said it was fine; he wanted to be out of your hair as fast as possible.
He seemed fine. There was no yelling at you and no big storm that came. So you let him leave(to a friends place, he said) and after a couple drink, you went to bed. The day had stressed you out to the point of exhaustion.
So why was your ex back in your apartment, and why did everything look the same like before, it’s as if yesterday never happened. Because, it did…right?
“It’s alright, sweetie. You’re safe, I’m here to protect you so don’t be scared.” He let go of you just enough to look up at him. “Mind telling me what got you freaked out this morning?”
“Yes: YOU.” Sending him a furious scowl, you said, “You are what’s got me so freaked out. Mind telling me why you are back?”
His expression was mixed with dejection and confusion. “I’m sorry. I really don’t understand what you mean.”
“Don’t play fucking dumb. We broke up. You moved out. Explain why you’re here and why-“ you gestured around the apartment “- did you put up all your things again? We are over, you need to accept that and move on.”
You wouldn’t call yourself a mind reader, however, it was easy to see that your eruption shocked him and sent his mind into a downwards spiral.
He spoke with urgency. “What? Broke up? Why would we do that? I don’t-“ he looked away and inhaled deeply. “I would never leave you.” Staring into your eyes, he asked in a quivering voice, “Are you not happy with me, is that it? Please, make me understand.”
“We already had this conversation-“
“When?” He interuppted you.
“Yesterday!”
He shook his head. “I think I would remember an important conversation like this. Are you sure it wasn’t a dream?”
You gaped at him. “It wasn’t a dream- I would know if it was. It was real and it happened. You are playing me, because what? Because I told you the truth that this is not healthy? This is not what a relationship should be like.”
“How is this not a good relationship? I love you and you love me. Is anything more needed?”
Your boyfriend could seemingly not honestly comprehend your point.
You pinched the bridge of your nose. “A relationship can’t be when two partners are so dependant on each other- like we are. We need other people too, it can’t be just us forever. Like, my friends don’t even bother to invite me to stuff anymore because I’ve always had to say ‘no’ because I’m constantly doing something with you. Can’t you see, I’m spending every waking moment with you? Hell, I barely talk to my family anymore.”
“I’m fine with only being with you. I don’t care about seeing anyone else, you’re all that matter to me. I don’t need other- is it not the same for you?” You noticed the tears brimming his eyes.
Sighing, you let yourself be honest. “No. It’s not enough for me. I’m sorry, but I can’t let my entire life be ruled and centered around you.”
The air was still around you. It was quiet. While you’d previously desired him to shut up, now you found yourself willing to do anything to make him say something. Finally, he spoke.
“Oh, wow. Okay.” His attention was focused on the floor. “I-I’m sorry, Love, I had no idea you felt that way. I didn’t mean for you to- you know.”
“It’s fine. I know you didn’t mean for me to feel bad. And besides, it’s partly my fault too. I can’t put all the blame on you.”
You ex tried attempted a little laugh, it came out forced and not at all smooth like he’d imagined. “I dunno what kind of dream you had, but maybe it was a sign- for us to…move on and stuff- I’m not mad though, I want you to understand that.
“Yeah.”
“Ooof, I guess that it’s also a sign for me to move out?”
You nodded. He was obviously depressed, however, he still tried smiling for you. You supposed he didn’t want you to feel bad. Within two hours he was ready to go. He sure was a fast packer when he wanted to.
Just like in your dream, you told him he didn’t need to move out directly, and similarly, he also said it was no bother. After he went, you breathed a sigh of relief and collapsed on your (formerly shared) bed.
It went well, didn’t it? You thought.
He agreed to break up without any fight. It was good. You could relax. You closed your eyes and let sleep come to you.
What you weren’t prepared for was to be awoken by the smell of cooking. You groaned and rolled out of bed. Checking the clock you saw that it was still a little early. You followed the noise to the kitchen.
“Hey, I was just about to wake you up. Do you want one egg or two?”
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This fic didn’t really turn out exactly like I wanted to. Sorry if it seemed a little rushed at the end. Hope it’s still acceptable tho
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