#there is a building tension your honour

[wuwaworld]

Mortefi x Reader (One-Shot)

— wishing to be in the front lines against the evil forces, you applied for submission to be a soldier. by some luck, you passed the test. now, how will you tell this to your co-worker.. whom you've found endearing despite the everyday banter? can you really leave the safety net of the Academy?

tw: Mortefi as a menace, idiots in love, prob ooc Mortefi, vague spoilers(?) (for those players who aren't that far into the quest/knowledge on wuwa yet, like me lol)

chaotically rewritten.

forgive the man's bluntness, but Mortefi doesn't really understand how you're fretting over something quite simple.

it started with fleeting glances throughout the whole Academy. Mortefi notices how you hold a thick envelope, flapping its seal but never actually pulling out what's inside.

“what are you doing?” Mortefi approaches you on a random afternoon, the Academy's activities were a bit mellow today. so he guesses he could take his free time to chat with you instead.

“ah-!” you fumbled with the envelope in your hands in a panic, “you can't just surprise me like that!”

“well,” Mortefi chuckles wryly, “someone is quite in a foul mood these days.”

“whatever.” you huffed, attempting to hide the envelope away from his prying eyes. your hands discreetly placing it beneath the stacks of paperwork–

but of course, it was the reason Mortefi approached you, wasn't it?

shamelessly, he picks up the envelope from your hands, flipping the smooth material around as he checks for something relevant on its cover. Mortefi swiftly leans away when you try to pry it away. his taller stature easily raising his hand out of your reach.

“hey! give that back-” you felt quite anxious as Mortefi continued to hold the envelope. “don't you have some manners?”

“weren't you the one who said I should drop the formalities, hm?” Mortefi retorts as he leans down to your height, the envelope in his hands still out of your reach.

“now, will you tell me what this is?”

“an.. application.” you sighed, attempting to cover it up as you reach out for the envelope once more.

“about what? you're oddly being secretive.” Mortefi prods, merely raising his arms out of your reach once more.

“if you give it to me, I'll tell you.” you bargained, crossing your arms as getting the envelope back seemed futile.

“I've seen children conjour a lie better than yours.”

“ugh, you-”

Mortefi merely chuckles, his fingers playing with the paper flap. an almost unnoticable teasing smile on his lips as he taunts further.

“fine,” you huffed, “it's a test result.”

Mortefi blinks once, processing the information.

as far as he knew, you didn't had any major work this past few days. the only things you had done were signing papers and fixing broken weapons that were dropped in the Academy's door.

besides, he's the one who gives you work. so this envelope must be something personal. something a mere co-worker shouldn't pry.

“it seems I've crossed the line,” Mortefi sighs, placing the envelope back in your hands, “I apologize if I came out rude-”

before he could finish his oddly sappy apology, you covered your mouth— laughing at his somewhat sheepish expression.

“you-” you laughed, looking at him as he stood confused, “you're taking it too seriously-”

Mortefi then deadpans, crossing his arms across his chest, “ha.. you're so eccentric.” he mutters. his eyes now looking at the way your lashes flutter as your eyes closed, or how your tense body seem to ease a bit as you laughed because of him. it was him, Mortefi, who had made you this happy—

but.. you didn't have to know that.

you didn't have to know the way he hids his expression as soon as you look up to him; the endearing look he once had replaced with nonchalance. he patiently waits for you to calm down from your peals of laughter, uncaring of the odd stares around the office.

“Mortefi?” he saw the way you tilted your head, a few strands of hair framing your face as you waved your hand in front of him. how rude, he thinks.

“I can feel you heating up.. even when I'm just in front of you. are you that embarrassed?” you asked curiously, a mix of concern and teasing on your tone.

“I'm upset that you seem to shrug of my genuine concern.” Mortefi scoffs, trying to quell his raging heart beat. he crosses his arms more tightly against him as an act of defiance. but really, he was trying to hide the way his chest rapidly falls up and down, his breath quickening on the way he feels at that moment. it almost felt as if the Tacet Mark on his chest was waving along to the frequencies of his heart.

he knows what he's been feeling for you the past weeks.. but a little more denial and study on his feelings wouldn't.. hurt.. right?

“ah, my bad.” you apologized, but Mortefi knew it was merely half-meant, if the way your shoulders just seem to shrug it off.

“now, since we've been in this conversation for a while,” he starts off as he ignored the flutters in his stomach, pushing up his glasses with his finger, “what really is in that envelope?”

if your laughter was any indication, Mortefi deduces that while it is personal, it wasn't something that truly concerns you to the point you'll shut people out. he began to scrutinize the way you bit your lip in nervousness, or the fact that you seem to hold the envelope even closer to your chest. (which he hadn't noticed that you already grabbed subtly when he places his arm down.)

“well?” Mortefi tilts his head, waiting for a reply.

“I..” you sighed, looking at him straight in the eye, “I'm going to the military.”

you notice the way Mortefi merely glances at you with a look of absurdness. it had made you realize that maybe your answer was quite vague.

“I'm leaving the Academy,” you made the announcement clear, and didn't miss the way Mortefi's eyes widens a tad bit, “I applied to be a soldier on the front lines.. I want a different kind of approach in helping Jinzhou.”

“.....”

for a while, you wonder if you had somehow.. broke the ever so suave Mortefi you did. if the way he seems to heat up more..? did he became upset on your sudden announcement of looming departure?

“Sir.. Mortefi..?” you called out unsure. at the end of the day, he was still your superior– no matter how much you banter like friends.

his eyes sharply turns to you, an inquisitive look on his face. “back on formalities again?” if anything, he sounded more and more upset.

“sorry,” you sighed, your hands tentatively pulling out the thick paper from the envelope. showing him the results of your test in applying in the military.

Mortefi looks down on the paper, he glances at the words etched on it. amidst the long words and paragraphs, his eyes zoned in on a sentence.

“we are pleased to have you with us as a fellow Midnight Ranger!”

not knowing his inner building turmoil, you looked down on your feet as you spoke, “I didn't know how to tell you.. the higher-ups already gave me an approval to leave the Academy within a week or two.”

the bustling sounds of the place were the only white noise. you watched as Mortefi stood in front of you, a thoughtful, yet unreadable expression on his face as he stares at the papers. flipping the page every now and then.

“Mortefi...?”

“is that all?” said man merely hums, as if his odd attitude previously was an illusion, “I should probably give you a newly made weapon to help you before you depart.”

“oh.. are you not upset?” you questioned, taking the papers back.

“should I be?” Mortefi smirks, a knowing look on his face, “should I not be proud that you're broadening your minisicule horizons?”

“you-!” you balked, watching as he continues to tease you relentlessly... before cutting him off with a, “gosh, Mortefi. at least take it seriously!”

“what's there to treat in such manner?”

“I.. uh..” you paused, gears slowly aligning in your head.

in a matter of seconds, you felt yourself heat up. a mad blush painting your cheeks as you hid your face behind the envelope. Mortefi was right, why should he treat it so seriously? in fact, he should be somewhat supportive as your co-worker, even amidst the bittersweet departing.

then why is it that you feel.. mad.. or upset.. at his lack of.. elaborative response?

“are you upset?” Mortefi taunts, giving you the taste of your own medicine from earlier as he leans his body to your height.

“nothing,” you tried to shrug off, your feet taking a few steps back as you looked away.

“if this is about your late announcent to me as your superior, then yes.” he teases, as he morphs his expression into a mocking anger.

“in the end of all this though,” Mortefi gestures to the envelope, “I commend your bravery on stepping in this hectic journey.”

“...thank you, Mortefi.” you feel the way your cheeks even grew more a deep red, and as you look up, you were surprised to see a soft look on his face. almost as if..

no, you can't assume something so serious like that.

..yet you can't ignore the tension, the way he continues to check on you at work even when he wasn't required to. the way Mortefi nags the mess on your office that you left previously on a chaotic overtime at work. yet you find your desk a tad bit cleaner than before as you went back after lunch. which he hasn't done with other colleagues, merely staring at another's messy office place in disgust.

you can't and won't ignore the whispers of the people in the Academy on how you two seem too close to be mere co-workers. on how he asks for your opinion regarding a prototype he has made, even if the both of you knew he already had the answer with how genious he is.

there was no movement from both sides. though Mortefi was a straightforward man, he can even hesitate on something as delicate as love.

while there were no clear answers, like a new problem that was put on hold to be solved— the both of you know the way you feel with each other without words. it's only up to time and fate as to when the answer would unravel.

until then, this distance seems enough for now.

“fine, since you've done this much for me,” Mortefi mutters, looking in your eyes with a somewhat fond look, “go ahead, tell me the wildest inventions you can think of, and watch me make them happen for you.”

the man took a step forward, and boldly places a hand on your shoulder. his thumb brushing against the fabric of your clothes leisurely,

“after all, I can't let my co-worker leave the Academy empty handed now, hm?”

[fangswbenefits]

Suit Up

Summary: Miguel craves to mark you as his, but he’ll have to start slow… so he offers to build you a custom suit. For now.

Pairing: Miguel O’Hara x spider-woman!reader

18+. Miguel POV. Obsessed Miguel. Innocent and inexperienced reader. Pining. Sexual tension and frustration. Masturbation. Breeding kink.

* ˚ ✦ Part 1 (you don’t have to read it to enjoy this one)

Miguel had decided he was going to build you a suit.

Not just a regular one, but an extension of his own.

He craved to have you for himself, and to have others know that. But he’d have to play his cards right. This level of obsession could easily scare someone off at first.

Especially you.

His sweet, sweet girl.

So he settled for this: building you a custom digital suit to match his.

Slowly, but surely you’d start to connect yourself to him more often.

Or so he hoped.

He found you in his lab early in the morning, sitting by the desk while taking your sweet time with a slice of watermelon.

“Good morning.”

As expected, you jolted in your seat, turning to face him.

A few droplets of juice dribbled down from your lips and chin, and eventually landing on your shirt.

You offered him a messy grin, bits of watermelon all over your teeth, but the absolute innocence of that action tore straight down to his cock.

“Oh! Miguel, hi! Sorry—” your voice came out slightly muffled, as you placed the half moon slice on a plate. “This watermelon is so sweet! Want a taste?”

His brow furrowed and he halted right in front of you. “There’s…” his voice trailed off, eyes fixed on your chin.

You immediately picked up on the implication and wiped the sugary liquid from your skin with a napkin, bringing a few fingers to your lips as well.

Miguel cursed inwardly and wondered if you were truly unaware of how suggestive all of this looked.

He slapped that thought away. No. You were too innocent for that. Your words and actions held no second meaning.

You were genuinely so fucking clueless that it only served to fuel his obsession with you.

His cock gave him a warning twitch.

He was all too familiar with those by now.

Would you be this messy while sucking him off? Would you not be able to keep it all in and eventually swallow?

He’d be fine with you not swallowing it all at first. After all, he did cum a lot. It would probably be overwhelming for someone as innocent and inexperienced as you.

“Miguel?”

Your voice snapped him out of his thoughts at once. “Yes?”

“I’m sorry for making a mess,” you said, hurriedly cleaning the desk.

There was no doubt you’d be the death of him.

Apologising for making a mess…

“Don’t worry about that,” he managed to say flatly. “I’m sure it tasted really good.”

You then smiled once more and let out a cock-twitching groan. “Oh, yes! But… why did you want me in here my casuals today?”

Right.

He moved to tap the hovering screens in front of him. “I was thinking you suit might need an upgrade.”

“What? But I built this one myself… what’s wrong with it?” you whined softly, sticking your bottom lip out.

His cock twitched again.

“I know, I know,” he reassured you with extreme ease. “But I’ve been working on a prototype of my digital suit and would like for you to test it out.”

A blatant lie.

He had just decided this the night before, after that post nut clarity had hit him hard.

How else would he mark you without you even realising?

You blinked a few times, having to tilt your head up to stare at him, and it was enough to flare his imagination.

“Really?” the excitement in your voice was palpable and he felt a sudden rush of satisfaction. “That… that would be an honour, Miguel!”

His fingers tapped through multiple files. “You’ve been helping me out a lot in the lab lately. It’s only fair that I show my appreciation.”

Your gaze wavered momentarily, broken by his genuine praise, and Miguel nearlt bit his lip from this sight alone.

“I do it willingly, Miguel. I love learning new things from you,” your eyes were back on his, and you were bearing a warm smile. “You’re a great teacher!”

He tried hard to tear his gaze away from your lips, and offered a mere nod.

You deserved more than a nod.

And your eagerness to learn from him made him feel swollen with pride. An ego booster.

It was quite addicting.

He’d teach you so much more if you’d let him. He’d teach you how to embrace your pleasure and use it for him only. Oh, how he’d enjoy teaching you how to suck his cock, or how to use your words to turn him on.

Fuck.

He would teach you all he knew.

You’d have all of him.

But he wanted you to want him the way he wanted you. No. He needed you to need him. To crave and yearn and feel the unfair ropes of despair tighten around you.

“I’ll just need your measurements,” he said, fetching a couple of measuring bands from a top shelf. “These will measure every tiny detail, so the fit is as suitable as possible.”

You nodded eagerly, lips slightly parted. He moved to grab each wrist, closing the metallic band around each wrist.

“Feet up,” he asked, hoping his voice wouldn’t betray his true feelings.

You lifted one leg after the other, and he carefully clasped them around your ankles, the feel of your warm skin and proximity nearly having him bite his own lip.

“Wait, do I have be naked?”

The question caught him completely off guard and he straightened up at once. “What?”

Miguel felt more blood rushing downwards and was grateful his own suit was able to keep most of his strained erection from sight.

You broke into a nervous laugh. “Oh — I mean… you’re naked under your suit, right?”

He nodded. “Your suit becomes an extension of yourself and it should feel like a second layer of skin,” he added, extending one arm out, and allowed you to see the digital layer of fabric quickly retracting from the tips of his fingers all the way down his naked torso.

The reaction was immediate.

Your eyes landed on him for only a split second, before looking away.

For the second time that day, Miguel’s ego soared to incredibly dangerous heights.

You looked so innocent and sheepish, not daring to gaze at his incredible physique once again.

He wouldn’t hold that against you, though. You’d have plenty of time to gawk at his body once he managed to break into your mind, and make you his.

“It feels more comfortable this way,” he added reassuringly, as his suit promptly covered his exposed skin once again.

You turned to look at him again. “Oh! So I don’t actually have to be naked,” you giggled in relief.

“No,” Not for this, he wanted to add.

The height difference was starting to take a toll on his ability to focus. Having you sitting on that chair, perfectly levelled to engange in a more suggestive scenario, was enough to feel the blood boil in his veins.

He needed more.

He needed to touch you.

“Let’s boot the measuring analysis program,” Miguel took your hand in his and helped you on your feet. “I need you to stand still.”

He needed so much more than that from you, but he’d have to settle for silent agony for now.

You were visibly excited, barely able to contain yourself as a smile settled on your face, and he felt the sudden urge to praise you for being so eager and such a tease.

He tapped a few commands on his watch, and came to stand behind you, careful not to stand too close, or you’d notice his hard cock.

“Do you trust me?”

You shouldn’t…

You turned your head to the side to look into his crimson eyes, confusion twisting your face. “Of course I do, Miguel.”

… because he wouldn’t.

He rolled his fingers along the hem of your shirt, slowly rolling it upwards. His heart went into overdrive instantly and he could feel the first droplets of precum dripping down his cock.

You flinched once his knuckles brushed against your skin.

“Are you okay?” he asked, halting at once.

You nodded and giggled lighty. “That tickles.”

His sweet girl…

How was he supposed to endure burying himself inside you inch by inch when he couldn’t barely keep his composure now?

Once the shirt was resting under your breasts, he moved one hand to grip it gently from behind, effectively tightening the fabric flat over you. From where he stood, he could see your bra’s outline and how your breasts heaved with each breath you took.

This was driving him mad.

Your cleavage was so inviting and he had to take a step back, ensuring his erection wouldn’t accidentally brush against your ass.

“Are you sure you don’t want me to take this off?” you asked.

You were so fucking sweet and innocent, and he wanted nothing more than to rip all of your clothes apart.

“Just let the program scan your body,” he said, voice strained and breath coming out in shallow pants. “Can you do that for me?”

“Yes,” you immediately replied.

Such a good girl for him… his sweet girl…

He would want to ask that same question the day he got to teach you how to suck his cock.

You’d struggle at first.

But he’d be patient.

He’d probably need to come up with a serum to inject himself with to keep from exploding right away, and he couldn’t have that.

You would need proper guidance, wouldn’t you? How he’d love to have you on your knees, mouth dropped open and receptive.

His other hand was now pressed flat against your tummy and he nearly bucked his hips in response.

Careful, Miguel, he scolded himself.

Was this too much?

In reality, he didn’t need to be doing any of this for measurements, but he couldn’t help himself.

He needed you closer.

He needed to feel you shudder against his touch.

He needed you to need him.

You gasped softly once he started to moved his hand down ever so slightly, fingers nearly touching the waisgband of your pants.

“Ticklish?” he asked in a low voice.

You hummed, bucking your hips into him with a faint giggle, and he felt his cock into contact with your ass.

Oh, fuck.

He had to let go of you right away, flinching back.

You turned to eye him, worry plastered all of your face. “Did I hurt you?”

“No!” he said right away, more precum droplets spilling out. “I think the analysis is complete,” he cleared his throat and turned his back to her, looking down to his bulge.

He wish he could set his cock free.

No.

He wish you would offer to set his cock free.

He wanted you to know and see how much his body craved yours.

“Miguel, are you okay?” you asked tenderly, moving to stand by his side, brushing his tense bicep. “We can finish this some other time.”

Was it really possible for someone to be this clueless? Was your inexperience that blinding? Hadn’t you felt his erection?

Against his will, he nodded.

He needed you gone right away.

He had to get off urgently.

“You’re overworking yourself again…”

He closed his eyes and took a deep breath.

How he’d love to make you his and have you take care of him.

Your hand squeezed his muscles gently. “Is there anything I can do?”

Please, touch me… “No. I’ll just finish the suit and have you test it out soon.”

Your hand dropped.

Maybe if he asked you to let him fuck your hand, you’d let him. Maybe.

He’d settle for you watching him jerk off to you, at this point.

“Can I pick the colours?” you then beamed, glancing up at the orange screens. “Can I? Please?”

He swallowed the lump in his throat. “Sure. I’ll be right back.”

“Okay!” you chirped happily, swiping across the customisation menu on the screen.

Miguel paced quickly into a storage room to his left, groaning into the back of his hand.

In no time, he had the front part of his lower half of his suit vanish, cock springing free, fully coated with precum.

He let out a strained and breathy sigh of absolute relief.

“Ay, Miguel…” he muttered to himself, realising just how badly this obsession had gotten.

His cock twitched, sending strand of precum to dangle from the tip.

From this angle, he could see your back, shirt still nicely tucked under your breasts, revealing so much of your skin to him.

That would do.

For now.

Wrapping his fingers around his cock, he set a slow pace at first, testing out his limit.

Dangerously close.

It was unfair that you were so close, yet so far. You were completely unaware of your effect on him.

Faint anger took over him.

You should be the one to bring him relief.

This was all on you… his sweet, innocent, inexperienced girl.

The pace quickened and he felt his fangs extending in anticipation.

You were bending over the desk, lifting your ass just enough for his mind to have imagining himself ramming into your from the back.

You’d love that position. Maybe not at first, but he’d teach you to enjoy thoroughly.

Being rawed and bred. You’d be a loving mother, wouldn’t you? You’d let him breed you over and over again, because you were just nice like that.

So eager to please.

He wished you’d bend over a little more, so he could fully immerse himself in his lust.

Feeling one fang dig into his lower lip, Miguel wondered how long it would take to draw blood, considering how hard it was for him to suppress his groans.

He couldn’t tear his eyes from you and his desire nearly pained him, because his hand would never be as tight as you, and it would never feel like you.

But he had to get rid of this now.

He had to complete your suit and mark you as his.

Everyone in Nueva York and across other universes would know you were his.

They would know not to cross you, for his wrath would be unmatched.

The sweet tingles of an orgasm soon engulfed him whole, and he threw his head back and fluttered his eyes shut, relying on his mind to keep your alive as he fucked himself for you.

Just you.

His sweet girl.

Just his.

He squeezed the first spurts of warm cum with his fingers, allowing himself go roll his hips in a broken rhythm.

The metallic taste of blood pooled in his tongue and he knew his fang has dug too deep, but he didn’t care.

He would break himself for you.

And you would, too.

You just didn’t know it yet.

Part 3

Masterlist

[driverlando]

🏎️ so in honour of oscar getting bumped down to p7, maybe some angry sex to release pent up frustration???? but it’s not how we expect it at all cause he would be messy asf

I’m so glad he got 2nd today 🥹

—

The aftermath of the race hung heavy in the air, a palpable tension radiating from Oscar as he stormed into the hotel room. The unexpected demotion to P7 had clearly taken its toll, his normally calm demeanor replaced by a simmering frustration that was evident in every line of his body.

You watched from the bed as he paced the room, his hands clenching and unclenching as he tried to work through his anger. The sight of him so worked up was both concerning and oddly electrifying, a potent mix of emotions that made your heart race.

“Oscar,” you called softly, hoping to break through the storm of emotions swirling around him.

He paused, his gaze snapping to you, eyes dark with a mix of frustration and desire. “I just… I needed that win,” he muttered, his voice tight with suppressed emotion. “I needed it, and it was taken from me.”

You understood his pain, the weight of the expectations and the pressure he put on himself. You wanted to comfort him, to help him release the pent-up frustration in a way that would bring you both closer. Rising from the bed, you crossed the room to stand before him, your hands reaching out to gently touch his chest.

“It’s okay to be angry,” you murmured, your touch soothing as you moved closer. “But let’s channel that anger into something else, something that will make you feel better.”

Oscar’s eyes flickered with a mix of surprise and understanding, his body slowly relaxing under your touch. He nodded, his hands coming up to rest on your hips, pulling you closer. The heat between you was immediate, the air charged with a different kind of tension now.

He leaned in, his lips capturing yours in a kiss that was both desperate and hungry. The frustration melted into desire, his hands roaming your body with a need that was almost palpable. You responded eagerly, your own need rising to meet his, the intensity of the moment consuming you both.

Oscar’s touch was messy, his usual careful control slipping away as he let his emotions guide him. His hands were everywhere, sliding under your shirt, pulling you closer, needing to feel every inch of you against him. The kiss deepened, tongues tangling in a dance of passion and urgency.

He broke the kiss, his breath hot against your ear as he whispered, “I need you, now.”

The raw need in his voice sent a shiver down your spine, your own desire flaring in response. “Then take me,” you whispered back, your voice breathless with anticipation.

Oscar didn’t need any further encouragement. He moved quickly, his hands deftly removing your clothes, his eyes dark with desire as he took in the sight of you. He shed his own clothes just as quickly, his movements a mix of urgency and desperation.

When he finally pushed you down onto the bed, his body covering yours, the heat between you was almost unbearable. He kissed you again, his hands tangling in your hair, his body pressing you into the mattress. The intensity of his need was overwhelming, his movements driven by the frustration and anger that had been building all day.

He entered you with a single thrust, the suddenness of it making you gasp. The sensation was immediate and intense, your body arching up to meet his. Oscar’s hands gripped your hips, his movements rough and uncoordinated as he sought to lose himself in you.

The room was filled with the sounds of your shared passion, the slap of skin against skin, the ragged breaths and soft moans that escaped your lips. Oscar’s control was gone, his usual careful rhythm replaced by a desperate need to find release.

You clung to him, your nails digging into his back as you rode the waves of pleasure and pain. The intensity of it all was almost too much, your body trembling with the force of it. But you didn’t want him to stop, didn’t want the connection to break.

Oscar’s hands moved to your thighs, lifting them to wrap around his waist, changing the angle and driving him deeper. The new position sent a jolt of pleasure through you, your breath hitching as you clung to him even tighter.

He was relentless, his thrusts hard and fast, his grip on your hips almost bruising. But it was exactly what you needed, the roughness and intensity matching the chaotic storm of emotions inside you. The pleasure built steadily, a tight coil of desire winding tighter and tighter with each movement.

“Oscar,” you gasped, your voice a mix of pleasure and desperation. “I can’t… it’s too much…”

“You can take it,” he growled, his voice rough with need. “I need you to take it.”

His words sent a thrill through you, his dominance a potent aphrodisiac. You surrendered completely, letting him drive you to the edge and beyond. The pleasure built to a fever pitch, your body trembling with the effort to hold on.

When your orgasm finally hit, it was like a tidal wave, crashing over you with a force that left you breathless and shaking. Oscar didn’t let up, his movements relentless as he chased his own release. The overstimulation was almost too much, your body convulsing with the intensity of it.

With a final, desperate thrust, Oscar found his release, his body shuddering against yours. He collapsed onto you, his breath hot against your neck as you both rode out the aftershocks of pleasure. The room was filled with the sound of your ragged breaths, the air thick with the scent of sex and sweat.

As the intensity faded, a soft silence settled over you. Oscar lifted his head, his eyes meeting yours with a mix of exhaustion and satisfaction. “I’m sorry,” he murmured, his voice hoarse. “I didn’t mean to be so rough.”

You shook your head, a soft smile playing on your lips. “It’s okay,” you whispered, your hand coming up to caress his cheek. “I needed it too.”

He returned your smile, his eyes softening as he pressed a gentle kiss to your forehead. “Thank you,” he murmured, his voice filled with gratitude. “For understanding, for being here.”

[astrocafecoffee]

Synastry observation ( part 1) 🎐

✨ For entertainment purposes only, enjoy ✨

Let's go!

🍓 Eros conjunct karma :

intense attraction with karmic undertones, powerful sexual chemistry, higher purpose in terms of fulfilling karmic contracts or agreements made in past live.

🍓 Boda in 10th house overlays:

Partnership/ marriage with this person is somehow in public eye. Your person's connections or involvement in certain industry may open up career opportunities or avenues for professional growth for you.

🍓 Anteros ( 1943) conjunct Boda and briede asteroid:

Anteros is related to unrequited love. This alignment invites both partners to confront any unresolved issues stemming from past experiences of unrequited love, fostering open communication and understanding to heal emotional wounds and strengthen bond between them. Both partners may share a vision of building a life together.

🍓 Boda conjunct saturn :

Long term planning and future goals within the relationship. Strong desire for stability and permanence , especially in the context of partnership/ marriage.

🍓 POF in 10th house overlays:

Again public attention/ growth opportunities in career after you marry/ date that person.

🍓 IC in 1st house overlay:

This person's home and family dynamics play a significant role in shaping your perception of self. You may find that your own identity is intertwined with their family background or domestic environment in some way.

🍓 MC in 7th house overlays :

Same , public recognition in the relationship.

🍓 Amor (1221) conjunct nn :

Profound soul connection between both of you. This relationship may have been destined or fated to occur in this lifetime. Meant to meet. Amor's influence indicates a deep and unconditional love between both of you. Soulmate indicator.

🍓 Union ( 1585) conjunct moon :

Strong emphasis on empathy, compassion and understanding within your relationship. This partnership feels like home to both of you.

🍓 stellium in 6th house:

It's so underrated, 6th house stellium is in important in romantic synastry , as your partner may encourage you to adapt healthy habits in your daily life.

🍓 Juno conjunct Jupiter:

Marriage placement., As in Roman mythology juno is considered as the wife of Jupiter ( the Roman equivalent of Zeus in Greek mythology) .

🍓 Born ( 13954) conjunct nn :

Fated encounter. You are meant to support each other on your respective paths of growth and evolution.

🍓 lisitsa ( 8064) conjunct juno:

Again fated , long-term commitment/ marriage., Karmic bond.

🍓 Bacchus ( 2063)conjunct Bacchus:

Strong mutual attraction between partners, often characterized by a magnetic pull and deep appreciation for each other's physicality.

🍓 Pythia(432) in 7th house synastry :

Intuitive fated connection. They may share common interest in mystical or esoteric subjects and may engage in spiritual practices together to deepen their bond and connection.

🍓 Pythia conjunct Hera ( 103) :

Divinely guided relationship, this conjunction suggests this is a relationship that honours tradition and values long term commitment. Both individuals may feel a strong sense of loyalty and dedication to each other.

🍓 Moon in 4th house synastry:

Deep emotional connection, moon person feels comfortable and secure when with the house person, perhaps tapping into a sense of familiarity and safety reminiscent of their own childhood environment.

🍓 Juno conjunct Chiron :

Both individuals may share similar wounds or vulnerabilities in the realm of partnership. They may understand each other's pain and struggles on a deep level , which can foster empathy and compassion within the relationship ( healing through partnership)

🍓 Groom(5129) square briede(19029) :

Despite the challenges/ disagreements/ conflicting desires this aspect presents an opportunity for growth and understanding within the relationship. By addressing and working through the areas and conflict or tension, the couple can deepen their connection and strengthen their partnership over time.

🍓 Karma (3811) conjunct descendant:

Both the individuals may feel a strong sense of destiny or fate drawing them together in a partnership or relationship. They might believe that their meeting was predestined or that they have important karmic lessons to learn from each other.

🍓 Moon conjunct saturn:

This aspect can indicate a strong sense of responsibility and commitment between the individuals. But there may be a tendency for both individuals to hold back their feelings or to approach emotional matters with caution and reserve.

🍓 Groom in 1st house synastry:

It suggests that your partner may identify strongly with the role of the groom or husband in your relationship.they may see themselves as a partner who takes on traditional husbandly roles or embodies qualities that you associate with the concept of a groom.

🍓 Cupido (763) conjunct nn :

Fated , strong emotional alignment, transformative and potentially life changing love connection/ karmic lessons in love.

🍓 Sappho (80) in 12th house synastry:

Intuitive understanding or unspoken connection between partners, there may be a sense of yearning or longing for an idealised romantic Union that exists beyond the constrains of the physical world.

🍓 Lust(4386) on 1st house synastry:

Passionate and dynamic connection between partners characterized by intense physical attraction ,sexual energy, and a strong focus on the physical aspects of the relationship.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

( post based on poll)

End......

Thank you!!

~piko 🌹

[earthtooz]

baby, would i still be your lover?

fluff with angst, 1k words, gn!reader celebrates their bday bc it's my bday today, reader likes pearls, childhood friends to lovers (?), ooc!al-haitham, conflict and resolving it, al-haitham's grandmother is featured.

The best way to describe yours and al-Haitham's friendship is... unusual.

Having known him since childhood, you cannot say that he has changed much over the years. When your parents brought him to his grandmother's house to hopefully give the young boy a chance to socialise with something other than academic journals, befriending him was not easy.

He dodged all conversation you tried to make, ignored all attempts you made to play tag with him, completely evaded your childlike innocence. He always was more mature than everyone else his age, or rather, always acted like it.

Most unusually, he had an uncanny streak of pushing everyone out of his life, and you were not immune to the imaginary lashes he strikes, eventually removing yourself from his life too out of frustration.

At seventeen, when an unforeseen tension had lodged itself between you and al-Haitham, it deteriorated your friendship. One day, he had taken his opinions too far and sharpened his words too much, you left the House of Daena tearful and too wounded to see him for a while. It creates a distance between you two, one that lasts for three years.

At twenty, you visit al-Haitham's grandmother for the last time, and she makes you promise something. She pleads you to take care of her grandson, that for years, he has been hoping for the rekindling of your friendship, and she asks of you to make his wish come to fruition.

You reach out to him a month later on impulse. He invites you to dinner and drinks at Lambad's Tavern, and for the preceding week, it mentally drains you to think about being alone with him again.

He is already there when you arrive, sitting with crossed legs and arms at an empty booth. Showing up later than him gives you time to admire how he has grown. Now freshly turned twenty-one, time has served him well. He has grown into his sharp, taut features, and the way his grey hair falls accommodates his features well, and his build is impressive for a scholar. You've heard from others that he's graduated with the highest honours, and has already been offered a job at the Akademiya.

When the conversation begins, you're relieved to find out that nothing has changed from when you were both seventeen and fumbling teenagers.

As the only person who has stayed in his life since his youth, there is a bond that somehow cannot be severed. You apologise for what happened at seventeen, he does too.

As dinner passes, one thing becomes abundantly clear: al-Haitham does not need someone to 'take care of him' like his grandmother asked. What he did need, however, was his childhood friend that always knew how to push his buttons, and perhaps that was your way of 'caring' for him.

"Y/n." al-Haitham's broad figure looms over your desk, causing you to pause the scribble of words and numbers that you were in the midst of writing. "With your birthday coming in less than a month, I went to review our personal channel for gifts you'd like."

"Have you now?" You rest your chin on your hand, looking up at him through your lashes.

He completely ignores your question. "A sango pearl necklace? From Watatsumi Island? Is that your only desire?"

"I am easy to please," you shrug.

"Perhaps you misunderstand me. Is there no other gift that you'd appreciate?"

"Is a pearl necklace not possible?"

"One from Fontaine would be more achievable. Watatsumi Island, however, given our geographical distance and the fact that Inazuma is only just beginning to open up its transnational-"

"-So it's not possible? Even for the Grand Sage?"

"Acting Grand Sage, and whilst it is not impossible, I came to review with you possible alternatives for gift ideas that would provide the same marginal benefit."

"I suppose I could think of something else," you tap your chin. "One day I'll get my hands on those pearls, do you see the way they shine so clearly? You could use them just to fix your makeup! Cold to the touch and a clearer reflection are what make pearls high quality."

"How fascinating," he responds flatly and you pout. "In other news, it's lunch time now, and you promised you'd pay for my next meal at Lambad's."

You huff, compiling your papers together and clipping them together. "I was hoping you'd forget."

(As always, when the meal is said and done, he doesn't actually allow you to pay.)

A month later, when the clock strikes midnight on the day of your birthday, there is a series of knocks at your door. Unsurprisingly, you're greeted by al-Haitham's handsome face, now softer without the makeup he wears to enhance his features, but still beautiful nonetheless.

In his hands, he holds a gift.

"Happy birthday, Y/n." He declares, straight to the point, and hands you the box. "I hope it is to your liking."

The unassuming packaging only adds to your shocked delight when you see the contents inside.

"Sango pearls, from Watatsumi Island! You got me a necklace and bracelet set!" You squeal in pure excitement, treating the jewellery like fragile little things when you feel them. Cold to the touch, and you can see your reflection in them.

Pride shines in his eyes and a small smile pulls at his lips. He doesn't say anything except watch you freak out, satisfied with the hoops he had to jump through for this present.

"al-Haitham, I am so happy I could kiss you."

"I'd be happy to oblige."

The best way to describe yours and al-Haitham's relationship is unusual. You would do anything to get on his last nerve (without overstepping), and he would do anything for you.

© EARTHTOOZ 2024, do not steal, translate, repost my fics and do not recommend my fics onto any other site.

[chibieggplant]

7 minutes in heaven

7 Minutes in heaven with Sanji

Female reader

Fluff and kissing

Nami picked up the empty bottle with a mischievous glint in her eye. "Alright, let's see who gets the honour - or curse - of starting our little game!" She gave the glass vessel a vigorous twirl, watching it whirl around before coming to an abrupt halt, pointing unerringly at you. Gasps and laughter erupted from the others as Luffy exclaimed, "Whoa, looks like y/n drew the short straw and goes first!"

Brook chuckled, his skeletal fingers giving your shoulder a playful nudge. "So, y/n, who'll be sharing that cramped closet space with you for seven tantalizing minutes?" Your cheeks flushed pink at the prospect, and you couldn't help but grumble under your breath, "Figures, why wouldn't I get stuck going first?" Your heart races as the bottle spins on its axis, each second an eternity until finally, it comes to rest. And there, grinning like the cat who got the cream, sits Sanji.

Sanji's triumphant laughter fills the air as he exclaims, "Thank you, God! Thank you, thank you, thank you!" His elation is infectious, making it difficult for you to hold back a small smile. But beneath the surface, your nerves are fraying at the edges. Nami's teasing whisper about the two of you making a cute couple doesn't help matters, her smirk implying she knows about your long-held crush on Sanji. You shoot her a glare, wishing she'd keep such sensitive information to herself. But there's little point in getting upset – Nami's always had a knack for pushing your buttons and stirring the pot.

As you nervously make your way toward Sanji, Nami throws in one final warning: "Have fun, but no funny business, Sanji!" Her words are half-jest, half-serious. Sanji barely acknowledges them, too caught up in his excitement to pay attention to anyone else. With a skip in his step, he eagerly awaits your arrival, ready to make the most of these seven precious minutes in each other's company – and perhaps, ignite a spark that he's secretly been hoping for.

The whispers of the others fade away as you step inside the cramped confines of the closet with Sanji. You try to brush off your growing nerves and focus instead on the warmth radiating from Sanji's presence beside you. It's true, you've often found yourselves lost in daydreams about each other – harmless fantasies, surely. But now, with the doors firmly shut and the promise of seven minutes stretching out before you, the line between reality and fantasy begins to blur.

Sanji's proximity is intoxicating, the scent of his cologne combined with the musty closet air, making your head spin. The cramped space seems to shrink further, pressing your bodies together unintentionally as you both fumble for a moment to get comfortable. Outside, the crew's laughter and suggestive remarks continue unabated, fueling the electric tension building between you and Sanji. Franky's bold assertion – that seven minutes is ample time for ‘super things’ to happen – rings ominously in your ears.

As the seconds tick by, your heart pounds in your chest, matching the frantic rhythm of Sanji's breathing. His gaze flickers to your flushed face, and for a moment, you both hold each other's stare, the unspoken understanding crackling between you like a live wire. Seven minutes may seem like a lifetime when every second counts and the consequences of giving in to your desires could change everything... But at this moment, surrounded by the darkness of the closet and the heat of Sanji's body so close to yours, it's impossible to think of anything but succumbing to the overwhelming temptation that has been building between you for so long.

In the dim closet, Sanji attempts to lean casually against the wall, although his nervously tapping foot gives away his true feelings. *Here I am, alone…with y/n* he thinks to himself, heartbeat accelerating. He takes a deep breath, mentally preparing for the opportunity he'd envisioned countless times – uninterrupted alone time with you. *Don't mess this up, Sanji* he reminds himself internally, fighting back his jitteriness.

“S-so, um...what do you want to do?” Anxiously, you ask, purposely avoiding his gaze. “Uh...well... seven minutes in heaven usually means...” *Usually means what? Kissing? More? Dammit, brain, focus!* He scolds himself. Trapped in his internal turmoil, Sanji trails off, leaving the sentence hanging in the charged silence between you. He steals fleeting glances at your profile, admiring your complexion even in the dim light. His heart pounds louder with every beat, drumming a rhythm of anticipation and anxiety throughout his entire being. Sanji inches closer, the air between you growing thicker with tension.

He clears his throat, attempting to steady his racing heartbeat. Finally, he meets your gaze, his bright blue eyes searching yours. But instead of boldly declaring his intentions, he fumbles for a conversation starter – a question so innocuous, it borders on ridiculous. “So, uh... How's your day been?” Internally, Sanji immediately slaps himself for such a weak opening line. What is wrong with him? Can't he just admit his feelings, wrap an arm around your waist, and pull you in for a kiss? But his nerves get the better of him, leaving him stuck in neutral, unsure how to proceed.

Your gentle smile at his silly inquiry gives Sanji a fleeting glimmer of hope. His heart leaps, a mix of relief and trepidation swirling within him. Was it genuine amusement or merely polite courtesy? He's torn between elation and self-doubt, the uncertainty making his head spin. *Why am I freaking out over a smile?* Sanji chastises himself again silently. *Focus, damn it!* But the torrent of thoughts continues to barrage his mind – Was his question too mundane? Should he just confess his feelings straightaway? Sanji's panic rises anew as he finds himself frozen mere inches from you, the heat of your proximity sending shivers down his spine. He longs to bridge the remaining gap, to wrap you in his arms and let the months of pent-up longing spill out in a torrent of passion.

Sanji's gaze remains locked on yours, desperately trying to find solace amidst the chaos in his mind. He's painfully aware of the heavy air around you both, charged with anticipation and possibility – so thick it could be sliced with a knife. Unable to stand the quiet any longer, he swallows hard, fighting against the lump forming in his throat as he attempts to formulate the perfect words. Breaking the suffocating silence, Sanji blurted out words he hadn't intended to utter yet – not here, not now, and certainly not in such a haphazard way. "I REALLY LIKE YOU Y/N!"

Instantly regretting his lack of finesse, he covers his flushed face with both hands, hiding from your potentially crushing rejection. His heart pounds against his ribcage like a trapped bird desperate to escape. He peeks through his fingers, catching sight of your downcast gaze and the slight tremble of your lips as you mutter something back. "You like every girl..." You murmur, avoiding eye contact and focusing on your shoes instead. Sanji reels at the accusation, taken aback by your sudden sternness. The words slice through him unexpectedly, deflating his fragile confidence like a punctured balloon. He knew his reputation preceded him – the womanizer of the crew, easily flustered by feminine charms – but hearing it from you, someone he genuinely cares about stung more than any insult Nami ever hurled at him. Sanji swallowed hard, forcing himself to meet your gaze once more. He needed to prove himself, to show you that his feelings went deeper than mere infatuation.

“N-no…” Inwardly, he cursed his flustered nature around women – why did it have to rear its ugly head now? Gritting his teeth, Sanji resolved to set the record straight. This chance might never come again, and he refused to let it slip away because of his insecurities. “T-That's not entirely true...” Sanji mumbles, averting his gaze, his embarrassment palpable in the confined space. *Dammit, why couldn't I have phrased it better?* Feeling exposed, he rubs the back of his neck sheepishly as you confirm his worst fears with a small chuckle. “I mean, it's a bit true, right?” Your blush deepens, your eyes locking onto his. “W-well... every girl is beautiful in their own way... but you... you're...” *Just say it, idiot!* His mind races to find the perfect adjective - something unique to describe the whirlwind of emotions you evoked in him since day one. But under the weight of your expectant gaze, his vocabulary fails him miserably. “You're... special...” *Pathetic! That sounds so generic.* Disappointment settles heavily in his chest, knowing that 'special' hardly conveyed the depth of his feelings. But before he can berate himself further, he forces a soft smile, praying sincerity could compensate for his lack of eloquence. Underneath the scrutiny of your penetrating gaze, Sanji felt like a deer caught in the headlights. The silence stretched on for what seemed like an eternity, his mind racing to undo his earlier misstep. *She deserves more than that pathetic attempt at confession*, he reprimands himself fiercely.

With a deep breath and a silent plea to the heavens above, Sanji decides action speaks louder than words. His heart hammering wildly against his ribcage, he closes the minuscule distance separating your faces, his warm breath brushing against your cheeks. He watches your lips tremble slightly, a sight that sends electrical currents coursing through his veins. “W-would... would it be okay if... *gulp*... I showed you how much you mean to me?” His voice trembles with vulnerability. The closet walls seemingly shrink further, entrapping both of you in a cocoon of anticipation. Sanji's eyes plead silently for consent, his every nerve straining for your response. He's painfully aware of the thin line he walks, terrified of scaring you off yet yearning to bridge the final inches dividing you two.

“Show me” You finally murmur just above a whisper, unable to deny that you feel drawn to him like a moth to a flame. Time slows to a crawl as your whispered agreement reaches Sanji's ears. Disbelief morphs into pure elation, and with trembling fingers, Sanji gently cups your cheeks, feeling your softness against his calloused hands – a sensation he never imagined would be so damn soothing. He gazes deeply into your captivating eyes, searching for any hint of hesitation or regret. Finding none, Sanji leans closer, his heart hammering wildly against his ribcage like a prisoner begging for freedom. Your breath melds with his as the gap between your lips shrinks to nothingness. Time now ceases to exist as his lips finally meet yours in a tender collision. The contact sends waves of pleasure crashing through every fibre of his being – a feeling so exquisite it takes his breath away.

Sanji's eyelids flutter shut involuntarily, sealing off the world outside this small sanctuary. All that matters are your soft lips against his, the delicate dance of your breaths intertwining, and the rapid beating of two hearts in sync. Slowly, he wraps his arms around your delicate frame, pulling you closer until nothing separates you except the thin barrier of fabric between your bodies. Every rational thought dissipates like smoke in the wind, replaced by primal desire and raw emotion. As he deepens the kiss, Sanji loses himself in the intoxicating taste of your surrender – in this moment Sanji feels as if he truly has found his version of paradise.

Ever so reluctantly, Sanji parts his lips from yours, the sweet taste of your lips lingering tantalizingly. His eyes remain shut, savouring the blissful euphoria that floods through him like warm honey. When he finally summons the courage to open them once more, the sight of your flushed cheeks and sparkling eyes threatens to steal whatever remains of his composure. *This woman...she’s everything*, Sanji thinks to himself, marvelling at the intensity of emotion coursing through him – a potent mix of desire, gratitude, and unabashed love. A tender smile graces his face, mirroring the one adorning yours. Your nearness feels like a drug he's hopelessly addicted to, and he knows he can never have enough. He tightens his arms around you, holding you securely against his firm chest – an anchor amidst the chaos of his turbulent feelings. He wishes they could remain entangled like this forever, oblivious to the world outside the closet doors. Inhaling deeply, he murmurs, “7 minutes isn't nearly long enough... I need an eternity.” His words hang between you, heavy with meaning and longing.

Your fingertips trace the contours of Sanji's features, sending tingles down his spine. He leans into your touch, craving more of your gentle caresses. Your lips brush against his once more, igniting a wildfire within his chest – a blaze that threatens to consume him entirely. Each delicate press of your lips together sends shockwaves coursing through his veins, intensifying the overwhelming cocktail of emotions swirling within him. His mind reels at the prospect of delving deeper into this forbidden connection, the possibilities tantalizingly within reach yet maddeningly out of grasp.

Sanji manages to tear himself away from the intoxicating kiss, his lungs burning for air. His chest heaves with laboured breaths, his pounding heart threatening to burst free of his ribcage. Through glazed eyes, he gazes at you, his expression a mesmerizing blend of longing, desperation, and adoration. The words struggle to escape his throat, tangled in the mess of feelings choking him. How could he possibly articulate the depth of his desires, the complexity of his emotions? The kiss has awakened something primal within him, a yearning that borders on obsession. “More time...please,” he finally manages to croak, his voice rough with raw need. In this moment, nothing else matters except the promise of prolonging this blissful interlude – losing himself entirely in the depths of your captivating presence.

Sanji peers into your eyes with a bashful demeanor, fully aware of the impropriety of his request. Yet, he finds himself unable to suppress the desperation clawing its way out of him, begging for more of your precious time. The mere thought of breaking this intimate bond between you makes his heart ache with a ferocity he didn't know was possible. *She understands...right?*, he hopes, as he watches the play of emotions across your beautiful visage. He searches your irises for any indication that you share in his insatiable hunger for more. This unexpected vulnerability only adds another layer to the enigma that is Sanji – a man who wears his heart on his sleeve despite his usually suave exterior. Swallowing hard, he whispers, "Please…." His voice drips with sincerity, betraying just how much this simple act of connection means to him. He waits anxiously, his heart lodged in his throat, for your response.

Gently disentangling your fingers from his hair, you hesitantly brings your hand to cup his face, holding his gaze that reflect the tumultuous sea of emotions raging inside him – fear, hope, and unfiltered desire. Sanji swallows hard, bracing himself for whatever answer might fall from your perfect lips. The silence heavy between you, each passing second stretching out like an eternity. Sanji hangs precariously on the precipice of confession. Then, your softest of whispers breaks the silence. “D-Do you...maybe want to...continue this, after the seven minutes? ...As...as a couple?” you breathe out nervously. As the notion of becoming a couple escapes your lips, Sanji's eyes widen in disbelief – as though struck by a bolt of lightning. His face erupts into a radiant smile, illuminating the dim closet with its warmth. He laughs nervously, still finding it difficult to believe that this extraordinary woman would consider sharing her life with him. His mind races, thoughts colliding in a chaotic dance – dreams of future moments together, of holding you close, protecting you fiercely, and cherishing every second spent by your side. "A couple?" He echoes your words, voice trembling with barely contained joy. The concept seemed too surreal to be true, yet the hope blooming in his chest refuses to be quenched. He searches your eyes intently, seeking confirmation amidst the whirlwind of emotions threatening to sweep him off his feet.

You nod, attempting to steady the tremble in your voice. "Y-yeah...a couple. Like together, boyfriend and girlfriend," you confirm, a faint blush colouring your cheeks. Despite Sanji's obvious delight at the prospect, a kernel of trepidation lingers deep within you – the nagging fear that his euphoria might be fleeting, and he could potentially withdraw his interest upon sober reflection. The uncertainty gnaws at you, making it difficult to fully embrace the moment's joyous atmosphere. However, Sanji's radiant expression and the fervent longing in his eyes offer a glimmer of reassurance, hinting at the possibility that this might indeed be the beginning of something extraordinary. You hold your breath, anxiously awaiting his response – praying that the sweet promise of a budding relationship will soon become a reality.

Unable to contain his overwhelming happiness, Sanji nods fervently, eyes brimming with genuine surprise and relief. He couldn't fathom why someone as incredible as you would choose him, but he silenced those doubts instantly, afraid to ruin this perfect moment. Without uttering a single word, Sanji opts for a far more physical answer – he captures your lips with fervent passion, sealing your unspoken agreement with an intense kiss. His arms wrap around you possessively, pulling you flush against his muscular frame until the barrier between your bodies seems nonexistent. In this stolen closet sanctuary, reality melts away, leaving only the two of you entangled in each other's embrace. Sanji savours every detail – the delicate curve of your smile against his lips, the softness of your hair tickling his fingertips as they trace lazy circles along your nape, and the tantalizing press of your curves against his own. This newfound intimacy ignites a fire within him, obliterating any remaining reservations he may have harboured. *Finally*, a triumphant thought echoes in his mind, drowned out only by the erratic rhythm of their intertwined heartbeats.*This amazing woman is mine.*

Lost in the symphony of your shared desire, Sanji deepens the kiss, pouring all the bottled-up emotions into each feverish touch, imprinting this moment permanently onto his very soul. Caught in the throes of passion, neither you nor Sanji notices the soft laughter emanating from outside the closet door. The crewmates' amusement serves only as a distant murmur, easily drowned out by the crescendo of your escalating desire. Sanji's entire world narrows to the exquisite sensations flooding his senses – the gentle pressure of your lips, the tender caress of your skin beneath his fingertips, and the intoxicating scent of your hair mingling with your perfume.

Just as Sanji becomes lost in the depths of the kiss, a sudden tug at his collar jolts him back to reality. With a startled gasp, he finds himself being yanked away from you by none other than Nami. Blinking rapidly, he struggles to regain focus amidst the haze of passion clouding his mind. "Oi!" Nami scolds, her voice piercing through the fog of desire. Sanji's stunned gaze locks onto hers, confusion etched across his features. What just happened? One moment he was revelling in the bliss of your kiss, and the next – Nami was forcibly separating him from you. Still reeling from the abrupt interruption, Sanji stammers, "N-no no..." He trails off, unable to articulate the unfinished sentence burning on his tongue. The lingering sensation of your lips against his only serves to fuel his frustration – he could still feel the warm imprint of your touch, a tantalizing reminder of what Nami so cruelly cut short. Stuttering in defence, Sanji manages to exclaim, "N-no no I was...k-kissing my...my girlfriend!" Heat floods his face as he declares your newfound status aloud, but he stands firm, unwilling to allow anyone to belittle the intensity of this moment.

Nami's eyes widen, initially taken aback by the revelation. After a brief moment, however, understanding dawns upon her, and she grins widely – a genuine expression of happiness for her friend. "Girlfriend!" she exclaims, clapping her hands together. Luffy, ever the enthusiast, leaps into the air, exclaiming, "Finally! You two took forever!" His laughter rings through air, infectious and boisterous as ever.

Regaining some semblance of composure, Sanji puffs out his chest defensively, pride evident in his eyes. "Jealous, huh?" He retorts playfully, wrapping an arm around your shoulders to draw you closer. "Can't blame you though, right? I mean, look at my beautiful girlfriend!" He flashes a charmingly cocky grin, his earlier embarrassment replaced by burgeoning self-confidence.*They don't know half of what I feel when I'm with her*, he thinks smugly, tightening his hold around you slightly. As Sanji's strong arm envelops you in a protective embrace, warmth spreads throughout your body. Despite the blush staining your cheeks due to the attention from the crew members, a sense of pride swells within you. Their curious eyes bore into you both, but beneath his confident facade, you catch a hint of his own embarrassment. You share a secret smile, understanding that this newfound relationship status might take some getting used to. Yet, the happiness coursing through you overpowers any self-consciousness.

The crew's laughter amplifies, but it’s not malicious - instead, it's filled with camaraderie and good-natured banter. Looking down at you, nestled under his protective arm, he whispers, "Thank you." Your confused glance meets his grateful one. "For what?" Leaning in close, so only you can hear over the commotion, he replies sincerely, "For agreeing to be mine." With your heart fluttering against his chest, you whisper back, "Thank you for wanting me to be yours, Sanji." This private declaration seems to electrify the air between you, and he squeezes your shoulder affectionately.*This moment feels so surreal*, you think, still processing the reality of your new relationship. You lean into Sanji's embrace, savoring the comforting warmth radiating from his body. As you exchange bashful glances with him, you can't help but beam with happiness.

Sanji's face lights up, and he leans forward to press a tender kiss onto your lips – a promise of endless affection. "Consider yourself warned," he whispers playfully against your lips. "Because I intend to shower you with love and adoration every single day." Just as your giggles subside from Sanji's declaration, Usopp steps forward, feigning disgust but failing to mask his underlying amusement. "No no!" he exclaims, pushing you both toward the closet again. "We don't need to witness that lovey-dovey stuff! Back in the closet!"

Zoro joins in, lending his strength to Usopp's efforts. "Yeah, keep the mushiness behind closed doors!" he adds, rolling his eyes dramatically. As the two pirates try to force you and Sanji back inside the closet, laughter bubbles up your throat once more. "At least let us go to an actual room to...you know, express ourselves properly!" You retort jokingly.

Chopper, ever the voice of reason, holds the closet door open with a grin on his furry face. "Let them be," he chirps. "They're just excited to express their love for each other."

Nami rolls her eyes but can't help a small smile tugging at her lips. "Don't encourage them, Chopper! Sanji needs to learn to control himself." Sanji bristles defensively at this remark, his cheeks flushing an even deeper shade of red. "I can control myself just fine!" he retorts indignantly.

Usopp snickers from beside him, shaking his head in mock disapproval. "We don't need to see you two making out all over the place!" he teases mercilessly while giving Nami a sidelong glance that makes her giggle uncontrollably despite herself.

Amidst the cacophony of laughter and friendly ribbing, Sanji's arm remains securely around your waist, anchoring you in the storm of their playful banter. He casts an indignant glance at Usopp, though the corners of his mouth quirk upwards – unable to suppress the happiness blooming inside him. "Relax guys, we're not animals," Sanjj huffs, although his eyes sparkle mischievously.

Brook chimes in with a wistful sigh, "Ah~ young love, it's a wonderful thing~" While Franky enthusiastically agrees, "Ow! So true! It's superrr!" Nami rolls her eyes but can't help a small smile tugging at her lips as she imagines all sorts of lovey-dovey scenarios playing out between the two of you.

Tired of the teasing yet simultaneously buoyed by their camaraderie, you decide to put an end to it – at least temporarily. With a sassy smile, you declare, "Alright, alright! Enough!" You gently disengage yourself from Sanji's grasp, lacing your fingers with his instead. "We'll leave you all to your imagination." Nami rolls her eyes dramatically, feigning exasperation. "Thank heavens," she mutters sarcastically.

Ignoring her playful sarcasm, Sanji shoots a final grin at his crewmates before allowing you to lead him away, his heart swelling with happiness. As your bedroom door swings closed behind you, cutting off the raucous laughter, he wastes no time embracing you."Finally, some privacy."

[fioiswriting]

Unholy

Summary : During the prestigious Targaryen family's annual charity gala, your boyfriend's stepfather decides to make you pay for the consequences of your actions. Perhaps you should have been more careful before entering this little game.

Rating : Explicit, 18+ MDNI

Pairing : Daemon Targaryen x Jace’s girlfriend!reader (reader appearance isn’t specified)

TW : p in v sex, dom/sub, oral (m receiving), daddy kink, unprotected sex, size kink, spanking, inappropriate use of the word kepus, cheating, age gap (!!), fingering, mirror sex, pwp, (light angst at the end), modern AU, Daemon being Daemon, not proofread 

Words count : 9379

AN : hi everyone!! I hope you are all doing well! So. Sorry it’s just a 9000 words concentrate of filthy smut. I’m ashamed. But enjoy anyway.  (I need to write for Aemond again but my gf is a Daemon girly so blame her for this smutty thing <3)

Also English is not my first language, so sorry for the grammar mistakes !! 

Enjoy 🖤

The Targaryen family's annual charity Gala promised to be particularly grandiose this year. More spectacular. More lavish. More ostentatious than ever.  The budget had been spent on decorations, that was certain, and it was only a matter of time before guests began to stream down the stately aisle leading to the reception hall.

It was an annual event that no one could avoid, despite the tensions that were tearing the family apart from within, a kind of routine that had set in year after year. 

And this Gala pissed Daemon off.

He had better things to do than smile at a bunch of assholes, listen to a bunch of idiots talk about their uninteresting lives and pseudo-successes that he couldn't give a shit about. Not to mention the fact that the mere thought of being in the same room as Otto Hightower made him break out in hives. 

Rhaenyra had explained to him that it was for their image, but Daemon thought that was completely stupid. Since when did his reputation and his family's image have to depend on fake polite smiles and superficial bows?

Everything pissed him off, starting with Otto fucking Hightower, with whom he had to share his table for an entire evening. Rhaeyra had slipped away for a moment to prepare to give the opening speech at her father's side, like the heiress of Targaryen Corp that she was.

The interior of the building was large. Well decorated, illuminated by large chandeliers whose light enlarged the room. The designer - Alys Rivers or something like that - had good taste, Daemon had to admit. Waiters circulated among the guests, offering glasses of champagne or cocktails to the wealthy families who had gathered. Prestigious guests, certainly, but most of all a bunch of hypocrites, according to Daemon. He could feel all eyes on him. Spying on his flaws. Spying on his every move. Every scandal that might make the headlines in the morning.  Like he was going to honour them with such a spectacle. He wasn't that stupid. 

It was already scandalous enough that he had married his niece. He didn't know if he could worsen his case.

His older brother's tired voice rang out. His speech, full of the values promoted by the company; family, solidarity, benevolence and all that crap everyone pretended to believe in. After all, a bit of scandal might have spiced things up, a bit of chaos in this ocean of smiles and hypocrisy.  Daemon liked the idea.

He found his daughters in the crowd. They were beautiful, as always, the spitting image of their mother. He took advantage of the end of the speech to compliment them, kiss them on the cheek and take a family photo that would delight the journalists. Proof that he was a good father, or whatever they would write in lines he wouldn't even read. 

But it wasn't them he was looking for. Nor his stepsons.

He scanned the room with his eyes, and finally. Finally he found what he was looking for. The very one he was interested in. Who had aroused his curiosity.

He grabbed two glasses of champagne and approached you like a predator towards his prey. You were alone. That was easy. "Has Jace abandoned you?" he asked in his raspy voice as you turned, obviously surprised to see him. He handed you a glass, which you accepted with your fingertips. He was close to you. Almost too close.

"He went to look for Cregan," you replied, frowning suspiciously. You were on your guard, but Daemon knew you'd be easy to tame. He'd noticed the way you looked at him when your boyfriend Jace brought you home, and the way you strutted by the pool just before his eyes in nothing but your bikini. You'd asked Jace to put sunscreen on your back, but it was him you were looking at as your boyfriend rubbed your back, him. His stepfather.

The dress you wore hugged your body perfectly, revealing the lovely curves you hid underneath the fabric. He had no problem imagining that all the men in the room were probably mentally undressing you. He'd be lying if he said he didn't. 

But the idea that other people, that other men could imagine your body, could picture your shape, could have inappropriate fantasies about you, irritated him to no end. The very thought made his blood boil and every muscle in his body tense.

He couldn't really explain why. 

Or, if he had to be honest, he knew why ; he had an idea in the back of his mind and he was desperate to act on it.

"Don't worry about me, darling," he replied, "I wasn't looking for my wife. Not tonight." He added, lower this time, leaving a deliberate mystery over his words. He saw you hesitate for a moment, your eyes widening before a slight smile curled the corners of your lips.  "'By the way, you look gorgeous,' he continued. "What a pity my stepson decided to leave you alone on an evening like this. There are some ill-intentioned men out there who might take advantage of the situation."

He saw you take a step in his direction, lowering the volume of your voice to make sure no one around you could hear what you were about to say. He also saw you look him in the eye with a kind of self-assurance that proved you hadn't said your last word yet. Fuck, he loved this game. And he was determined to win.

"I'm not afraid of ill-intentioned men, Daemon. I'm not a little girl anymore." Your voice purred against his ear, and he wondered if you really knew what you were doing, if you knew what you were getting into by pretending to be a big girl. 

Men like him could make a meal of fragile little things like you.

So he slowly leaned towards you. Who cared if anyone saw him? At least it would give the paparazzi something to write about in the morning. Daemon didn't give a fuck. They could say what they wanted, only idiots read the piles of shit those so-called journalists wrote in their rags.  "Don't be so sure, little one," he whispered in your ear as he tucked a lock of hair behind your ear. "You don't know what these bad men are capable of." His gaze lingered on your collarbone, the exposed skin of your throat and your cleavage that hinted at your breasts. 

Jace had good taste. You were simply divine.

"Then show me," you retorted, and Daemon's eyes locked with yours again. He had that usual smile, enigmatic and arrogant. But he said nothing. He let out an insolent chuckle, his fingers still wrapped in a lock of your hair, before turning on his heels. 

For once, maybe the Gala would be something other than a meeting of fake smiles and endless, falsely polite conversations with people he didn't even like. For once, maybe the Gala would be exciting. 

The meal had been delicious, and the dinner had gone as politely as Daemon could remain. Despite Rhaenyra discreetly kicking him under the table every time he was about to hurl an insult at Otto Hightower, that omnipresent parasite as tenacious as vermin, he had managed the feat of not provoking a diplomatic incident.  But Otto Hightower wasn't the only thing he was angry about. At the other end of the table, out of the corner of his eye, he could see you and Jace talking, your hand on his, and the thought irritated him. Which was hypocritical of him. But he saw his stepson whisper something in your ear, he saw him slide his hand under the table as you giggled, and a little later he saw him ask you to dance. You had accepted, with your eyes glued to Daemon, and you knew exactly what you were doing, he was sure of it. 

For as you walked past him, you let your fingers brush his shoulder. You knew what you were doing. You knew what you were doing, and you knew he couldn't make you pay for it, at least not in public, not now, not in front of everyone. 

His hand tightened around his glass, and when Rhaenrya asked him if everything was all right, he grunted, barely answering. You wanted to provoke him. You did it on purpose. You were trying to provoke him, like a little spoiled brat, and Daemon was going to show you what happens to girls like you. But for the moment he could do nothing but watch, his gaze clouded with possessiveness and jealousy, as Jace spun you around, as you swayed to the music, as you let your boyfriend press himself against you. 

All the while looking at him. 

And in his head, it was only your name that sounded like an old broken record. He needed to teach you a lesson, to show you what happened to girls who were provocative, to girls who were impertinent, to girls who wanted to tease ill-intentioned men without worrying about the consequences.

He had warned you, but you hadn't listened.

His eyes swept the room once more, but you had disappeared into the crowd. Occasionally you emerged, between two couples. It was like a game of cat and mouse, but Daemon wasn't sure he was in the mood to play any more. He dismissed Rhaenyra with a mumbled apology, and when he saw you slip out of the room, he followed you discreetly.

He found you leaning against the railing with your back to him. Your silhouette stood out in the pale moonlight, and as he approached, the laughter, the loud music and the clinking of bottles mingled like faint echoes in the distance. The fresh air was pleasant. Maybe it would help him think more clearly. Maybe it would make him stop thinking about things he shouldn't. You, you and nothing else.  It was becoming an obsession. 

Without warning, he moved in your direction. He could smell your perfume, a sweet, floral scent wafting towards him. Fuck, he was so close, pressed against you, he could even feel the warmth of your body against his. You didn't move, and Daemon took that as silent approval.  He was behind you. The lower part of his body, pressed against you. Against your lower back. A familiar warmth spread between his loins. You could feel it. You could probably feel the effect you were having on him, and the thought was driving him crazy.

"Daemon."

He didn't back away. On the contrary, he stopped for a moment and slid his hand delicately up your thigh, to the edge of your dress, where his finger traced the hem. It was naughty - you were his stepson's girlfriend. You were much younger than he was.  But he couldn't help wanting more. He couldn't help taking what wasn't his and making it his. 

Fuck. He loved to play with fire, that was for sure. 

Quietly, Daemon withdrew his hand and leaned back against the railing, his gaze resting on you like that of a teacher disappointed with your behaviour. But there was something else beneath his reproachful expression, something else, and it was almost possessiveness - or jealousy - that shone in his eyes. "Look at me," he ordered, lifting your chin with the tip of his index finger, and your eyes landed on him. You didn't want to give in, you didn't want to give him what he wanted, so you looked away to stare at a distant point on the horizon. But he insisted, his fingers bruising your chin. Perhaps he should teach you discipline, since you obviously didn't know what that was. So the two of you stood there for a moment; his dark gaze piercing your deceptively innocent eyes, and he said nothing, his jaw set. When he broke eye contact, it was to study the soft curves of your breasts. His thumb traced the line from your jaw to your throat, then along your collarbones in a sudden excess of possessiveness. His eyes burned with desire. 

He needed to possess you.

"What the fuck did you think you were doing, little one?" Daemon finally asked. You knew exactly what he was referring to. You knew about the pool, you knew about the sunscreen, you knew about the short skirt at dinner the other night, you knew about dancing with Jace, a moment ago, while you devoured his stepfather with your eyes. You knew you were doing it on purpose, and now you were going to pay the consequences. But you weren't ready to give in just yet. You wanted to play a little longer. So you put on your best innocent expression and pretended you didn't understand.

"I don't know what you're talking about.”

He was seething. You were driving him mad. He frowned, but he knew he wasn't going to get you, not like this. His eyes were dark with lustful desire and sheer hunger.

"You know exactly what I'm talking about, don't play dumb," he added again, before pulling a pack of cigarettes from his suit pocket. He put one to his mouth and lit it with a lighter, his hand bent to shield the flame from the wind. You watched as he took a deep drag and exhaled the smoke.

"I didn't do anything wrong." You bit your lower lip. Deep down you felt almost ashamed, like a little girl caught with her hand in the cookie jar, but it was a paradoxical feeling - you adored the effect you were having on him. You weren't stupid, you knew jealousy when you saw it. But after all, you hadn't done anything wrong, that wasn't a lie. You had just danced with your boyfriend. With Jace. 

And Daemon was a married man.

"I was just dancing with my boyfriend," you said, putting the emphasis on that word. “You know, Jace."

Daemon handed you the cigarette, which you declined. He turned to face the horizon, leaned his elbows against the railing, his arms almost pressed against yours. He knew he had no right to be possessive with you. He was a married man.  He was a married man and you were young enough to be his daughter. It was hypocritical of him - but who doesn't need a bit of fun? The Gala was a bore.

"You were dancing? Really?" He paused. "Or tell me, are you so desperate for an older man's attention that you'll do anything to get it?" His words cut through the air like a sharp knife. He took another drag and turned towards you, blowing the smoke towards the horizon. Then he crushed his cigarette on the railing, nonchalant as ever. You remained silent for a moment. You stared at him. Who did he think he was?  Who did he think he was, talking to you like that, with that patronising tone, when you were Jace's girlfriend?  With calculated slowness, his fingers found your chin again and he forced you to lift your head towards him. He moved forward, pushing his body against yours until you were pressed against the iron barrier. He didn't care if the metal scraped against your back. He didn't care if it hurt. For the moment he wanted to be in control, and he wanted to remind you of your place.

All that mattered was the closeness of your face to his. 

Your breath grazed his face, light as a feather.

He grabbed your wrist, his thumb squeezing against your skin where he could feel your pulse racing. Fuck, he loved feeling the control he had over you; it made him harder than he already was.

Suddenly you felt bold. Raising your face to his, you let your lips linger on his for a moment without ever sealing the kiss. His whole body tensed, as if he had to restrain himself from tightening his grip on you. "Are you calling me a whore?" you asked in a calm voice, your provocative smile showing your teeth. "You're married, aren't you? I don't see why it bothers you so much what I do with my boyfriend." You'd hit a nerve. But Daemon hated being wrong, he hated being reminded of his mistakes or the hypocrisy of his behaviour. He tightened his grip. Your wrist was so small, seemed so fragile between his broad fingers. 

You had the feeling he could break it at any moment.

Daemon snorted. Now the big words. You played the innocent, you played the model daughter, but he knew exactly what was hidden behind your too well-behaved facade. Maybe he was insane. Wanting to claim you, wanting to keep you for himself, wanting to protect you from other men's eyes.  The sight of someone else's hands on your waist drove him mad. And yet you were just a passing distraction; just a way to add a little fun to his dull days and his dull marriage, just a way to satisfy a burning attraction, a primal need he couldn't satisfy any other way. 

Fuck. You were an impertinent girl with a sharp tongue, but once you were alone, he had no trouble imagining other uses for that divine tongue of yours.  You, kneeling before him, worshipping him in the most sinful way.  It was simply unholy.

But again, he wasn't a pious man. He was nothing but the devil. He didn't want redemption.

"And what about you little games?" He didn't look away, searching your face for a new trace of insolence - or perhaps a trace of sincerity, anything that would betray what you were really thinking. "I know what you're trying to do. When you deliberately bend down in front of me with that short skirt," his voice grew hoarse, covered with a veil of desire. "When you asked me to tie up the top of your swimming suit."  He could go on and on; reminding you of all the times you'd deliberately, innocently provoked him. The sound of his voice in your ear made you shiver. He let go of your wrist, his fingers moving up your body to play distractedly with the strap of your dress, his eyes roaming over your breasts. You let him, the touch of his fingers against your skin raising goosebumps all over your body.  He couldn't think of anything else but how divine you would look once that dress fell to the floor. "You're fucking asking for it," he concluded, turning his gaze to you.

"And?" You asked, your eyes lifted to his, peering out from under your long, curved lashes. You were indeed going to drive him mad. You bit your lower lip discreetly. He said nothing, the silence hanging over both of you for a moment as he pierced your soul with his icy gaze. Shadows of desire danced in his eyes. "You like to play, don't you?"

That was the spark that ignited the explosion. Something had changed, something in your dangerous games. In testing the limits again and again. In bending them, crossing them just enough to taste the intoxicating forbidden before stepping back behind that invisible protective barrier. You wanted to cross the forbidden line as much as he did, and the tension that had built up between you and him had no alternative but to explode. 

His grip tightened around your wrist, and he pulled you to him, against him.

Fuck the party.

Fuck propriety.

Fuck everyone.

He pressed his lips to yours in an urgent, desperate kiss. His hands moved to either side of your cheeks to keep your lips pressed to his. Like a man gasping for breath, he relied on your mouth, his tongue seeking a passage between your lips. You put your arms around his neck to hold him close. There was no tenderness, no love, just passion and an uncontrollable need to be pressed against each other. The kiss was rough. Unlike Jace, who kissed you tenderly as you lay on his bed, snuggled against him, Daemon wanted to assert his dominance. He wanted to take. He wanted to possess. He wanted to control. 

"We should stop," you whispered between kisses, panting, but it was a lie, you didn't want to stop. Trying to silence you, he slid his hand along your waist, down your hips, his fingers hesitant to slip under your dress - he was already imagining you soaking wet, just for him. You rubbed your thighs as the familiar sensation stirred, sending waves of heat through your core. Daemon caressed the black lace of your panties where your thigh met your centre, and you stifled a moan between his lips.

Anyone could catch you. Jace was nearby. Rhaenyra was nearby. If anyone turned their head, squinted their eyes, decided to get some fresh air on the rooftop, they could catch you by surprise. At any moment. 

People could talk, scandals could break out.  But Daemon didn't care. About his marriage. About the others. About being the centre of attention.

He had no morals, and he did the things he wanted just because he wanted to. 

You broke the kiss to catch your breath, your forehead pressed against his, your lips only inches apart. You knew what you were doing was wrong. You didn't want to think about Jace now - you didn't want to hurt him, but you were in his stepfather's arms and you weren't sure you could put an end to it. For you were like two magnets, inexorably drawn together. 

"We can't." You breathed against his lips, still brushing yours. His eyelids were closed, probably lost in desire, savouring the moment. Were you the only one with a moment's lucidity? Wasn't he supposed to be the most responsible ? He was twice your age. "We shouldn't," you tried to add as Daemon tried to capture your lips again. Behind your facade of trying to push him away, Daemon knew what you really wanted. He could feel it under his fingers; the wetness of the lace on the lingerie you were wearing betrayed your true feelings. 

And he was going to prove it to you.

"They're going to talk -" you began as Daemon pulled you by the wrist across the car park of the luxury downtown hotel. "Then let them talk," he replied coldly, tugging at your wrist to force you to move faster despite your high heels. 

You would be spotted. 

The press would create a scandal; him, cheating on his wife, cheating on the heiress of the Targaryen Corp. 

With you. You, Jacaerys Velaryon's girlfriend.

"Are you afraid?" he sneered, and you rolled your eyes at his immaturity. But you decided to play along. "I'm afraid, with your advanced age, you're not really able to keep up." He didn’t quite find that funny, because he gave you a dark glance. “You’d better watch your fucking mouth, young girl.”

Throughout the ride he had kept his hand possessively on your thigh, playing with the hem of your short dress without ever exploring too far. You bit your lower lip, barely moving your hips, subtly, seeking the warm touch of his fingers. The contact between you was electric. Your attempts at daring earned you the tightening of his grip on your thigh, squeezing your flesh. You had to put an end to it. You had to tell him to stop, to be reasonable, to turn around and take you back to the party before anyone noticed you were gone. But all you could see in Daemon's eyes was coldness and hardness.

You were already too far away. There was no turning back.

And the electric tension between you hadn't diminished - it had increased as the lift carried you up. As soon as the doors had closed, Daemon had you pinned against the wall, your legs wrapped around him, your dress pulled up, to devour your lips. One of his hands was pressed against the wall next to your head, the other firmly gripped around your waist.

Daemon hadn't done things by halves. He'd chosen a luxury hotel, a five-star place that had welcomed only prestigious guests since its opening. But the idea was as exciting as it was indecent; he was going to fuckyou in a suite that offered a panoramic view of all of King's Landing, a private spa with a Jacuzzi, and a bottle of champagne worth thousands.  And above all, in a suite that offered the peace and quiet to spend the night as he wished, with no one around to hear you scream his name.

He had chosen the best for you, nothing but the best. Perhaps that was an exaggeration. All this for a girl half his age, whom he wanted to fuck like some expensive prostitute. But why deprive himself when you, the spoiled brat that you were, were only asking for it? You had some kind of hold over him, some kind of mysterious power that made him lose his mind, but fuck, he loved it. He loved the adrenaline that came with danger, the adrenaline that came with the indecency of taking what wasn't his. 

"So what now?" He heard you mutter. You had regained your insolence as you entered the room, your arms crossed over your chest. What now. As if you didn't know what was coming next. You played innocent, but he knew that underneath your angelic exterior you were anything but naive.  He let out a deep chuckle.

What now? 

Oh, but now the fun was about to begin. Now the evening would take another turn - the one he'd been waiting for. He was going to ravish you.

He approached you with a predatory look on his face. He stood behind you, stroking your shoulders and throat with his fingertips before gathering your mass of hair to one side to free your back and neck. He pushed you forward into the room, close to the large mirror opposite the bed.

"Now you're going to undress." Daemon said, mirroring the words you'd just used in a tone that left no room for argument. He let his fingers slide down the skin of your back to the zip, which he played with, sending shivers down your spine. His lips planted kisses on the nape of your neck and slowly - very slowly - he began to pull the zip down. "I want to see you," he added. His eyes, burning with desire, met yours in the mirror. Each of his words were carefully chosen. Cold and calculated. Authoritative and paternal. You couldn't resist him, and as you slipped the straps from each shoulder, the fabric fell to the floor in a pool of satiny black. 

"You wouldn't want to keep kepus waiting, would you?" You didn't know the word - it was that ancient language for which the Targaryens had a secret. But you could imagine all sorts of meanings, given the context. A whole lot of meanings that sent waves of heat between your thighs, making you wetter than you already were...

You swallowed.

Desire pulsed through your core. It wasn't fair for this old man to have such a powerful effect on you with just a few words.

You shivered. Whether it was the chill of being almost naked in the room or the realisation that you were now at Daemon's mercy, you weren't sure. Because he was in control, he was the master of the situation, and you were now playing by his rules.

In your lingerie you were divine. The black lace hugged your skin to perfection - embracing your rounded breasts, revealing your darker nipples and rounded buttocks. A perfect mix of debauchery and innocence.  It was becoming difficult for Daemon to resist. But he had to make it last. 

Teaching you a lesson in patience and obedience was his mission for tonight.

In the reflection of the mirror, you saw his hands brush against your ribs, coming to rest on your hips. Behind you, he stood a good head taller than you. He was taller, wider too, as if to remind you of your place. What he wanted you to be. An object of his personal desire. One of his fingers slipped lower, playing with the elastic of your lace panties, never venturing beneath the fabric - never soothing the place between your thighs that throbbed too wildly. You moved your hips. You wanted more. More contact. More sensation. His fingers against your bud. 

"Stay still, little one," he replied, holding you in place, a mischievous smile stretching across his lined lips. His deep voice vibrated in the hollow of your ear. His fingers were slow, light. Painful. "I didn't say you could move." You struggled to maintain eye contact, to watch your own reflection, so vulnerable, lost in his arms, with his hands on your body, mean and possessive, when you weren't supposed to belong to him.  "Look at you," he whispered in a soft breath that made the hairs on the back of your neck quiver. Your naked body stiffened against his, still clothed.

His fingers slipped lower. You held back a moan. He stroked the spot between your thighs, finding wetness through the fabric. "Do you need kepus here, little one?" His hungry smile widened. That damn word again, that damn word you didn't know - but which seemed dangerously out of place in this situation.  You closed your eyes, and as if by reflex, your hand closed around his wrist to keep him there. You couldn't utter a word or form a coherent thought. "Looks like you lost your tongue, huh?" he added sternly.

"Shut up, old man," you manage to say in spite of everything - without answering his question. You didn't want to give him that privilege. You would have liked to come up with something else, a clever retort, or something that was so characteristic of you - just to show him that you weren't afraid to bite. But you were so lost in your pleasure that the words died in your throat.

"Old man, really?" He frowned. His fingers stopped moving. He held them against you - his forefinger through the fabric, against your entrance. Forbidding you to make the slightest movement, to move your hips, to search for friction. Forcing you to look at your own image, your reflection that proved you'd been caught playing your own game. "Then use your words like the big girl you are and tell me what you want."

Leaning forward, he let his lips brush your shoulder, one hand pulling the fabric of your panties aside to slip his fingers underneath. He wasn't going to give you what you wanted right away - not when you'd called him old man, not when you'd been insolent. His trousers had become ridiculously tight and his pulse was racing with excitement even as he tried to remain calm.  Then his fingers caressed the side of your folds - running over the soft, tender skin, carefully avoiding the little knob at the top of your thighs that would give you so much pleasure. He traced your slit, gathering irrefutable evidence that you desired him. 

You held back a moan. 

He didn't look away from your reflection as his fingers spread your folds, as he collected your wetness on his middle finger, as he finally let his thumb rest against the small hidden pearl. He could feel you weakening, your legs giving way, but he held you up with his arms, to force you to stay firmly on your feet. He wasn't finished with you. Not yet. He hadn't told you you could sit up or lie down. Nor had he told you that you could look away.

And as long as you continued to misbehave, he'd have to be the one to put you in your place.

"Eyes on me." His sharp voice echoed through the room, between the wet sounds of his fingers against the most intimate part of your body and the moans your full lips gently released. Daemon was merciful; he gave you time to obey. And it was only when you opened your eyes again, when your angelic, pleading gaze met his once more in the reflection of the mirror, that his fingers became bolder. He pressed his index and middle fingers against your entrance, tracing a few small circles before plunging inside you.

You clenched beneath him, against him, around him. 

"Look at you," he murmured, punctuating his sentences with hungry kisses that were sure to leave a purple necklace the next morning. "So wet for me. And I've only just started using my fingers." His other hand slid the strap over your shoulder, then deftly unhooked your bra to explode your chest. You felt his thumbs run over the roundness of your breasts, causing your nipples to harden. Then he withdrew his fingers from your warm den, his thumbs hooked under the elastic of your panties, and the piece of fabric that still separated him from your body fell to the floor. He admired you for a moment, before he found your crotch again, pushing his fingers inside you, curling them against the spot that made you see the stars. Just as you were about to look away, Daemon's strong hand closed around your jaw, holding your face up to your own reflection. " Do you see how well you take my fingers inside you ?".

The image reflected in the mirror was one of debauchery. You, panting, desperately trying to keep your balance. Him, behind you, fully clothed, with his fingers deep inside you.

Daemon relished the flush in your cheeks, the shudder that ran through your body, the sighs that escaped your parted lips. You had that innocent, angelic, look that he was dying to tear apart. 

Looking innocent was your weapon. A weakness you used against him, he knew it.

"Look at you, the model girl acting like a whore." He stared into the reflection where his fingers disappeared between your glistening folds. Your walls tightened - you were close, much too close. The wave of pleasure was about to overwhelm your body, and as you felt the release coming, you threw your head back to welcome it.

Your whole body convulsed.

But Daemon didn't give you time to catch your breath. 

"You're so fucking wet," he whispered as he removed his fingers from your warmth and brought them to your own lips. He spread your wetness all over them, pushing his middle and index fingers against your tongue so you could taste yourself. "So wet, just for the old man I am." 

It was naughty – perfectly naughty. The taste of your own essence permeated your taste buds as you wrapped your tongue around his fingers. 

Daemon lifted you up to throw you onto the bed, face down on the mattress, a little more roughly than he would have liked. His eyes shining with anticipation, he placed a hand on your bottom to caress the curve of it.  He wondered what would happen if it turned red.

You were still trying to catch your breath. To come to your senses after your orgasm. 

You couldn't form a single coherent thought.

"Tell me, young lady. Do you think you've been obedient enough tonight?" he asked as he sat down beside you, his hand stroking your chin in a fatherly way. "Or do you need to be punished as a reminder?"

You widened your eyes. Punished. A ball formed in your stomach - a mixture of anxiety and excitement. 

"I don't see what I did wrong," you huffed, defying him with your eyes. "I always behave well. I'm a good girl."

Daemon raised his eyebrows. "A good girl, really?" He lifted your chin, as if inspecting your face for any trace of genuineness. He seemed to hesitate for a moment. Reflecting. As if thinking about the punishment he was going to give you. "Even when you came without my permission?" He paused. "I don't fucking care how good it feels, you'd better not come until I tell you to."

Oh. For that too, you needed his permission. You looked away, embarrassed. But the answer Daemon was waiting for didn't come fast enough. You felt like you'd been swimming underwater for too long - but Daemon was in no mood for patience, not tonight.  He tightened his fingers around the firm flesh of your bottom as if to signal what would inevitably happen. For whatever the answer, Daemon knew there was only one possible outcome. 

And he loved the idea.

His member throbbed with anticipation in the tight confines of his trousers, but he ignored it. His toothy grin reflected the pleasure he felt at being in control, at being the one who determined the events of the evening and their pace. He was the one who would mark you, who would make you yield, who would make your whole body sore and red and tired until you couldn't take it anymore.

"Well?" Daemon added, allowing you the kindness to catch your breath. "With your words." Perhaps he was being too soft on you. Too lenient. But in any case, you could be glad for the brief respite he gave you. Because soon you'd be whimpering again, all weepy and begging. He had a prospect he was looking forward to: reveling in your tears of pleasure and overstimulation.

You had tried to provoke him? Now you had to face the consequences. And Daemon hoped you would be able to.

"I have been exemplary. All evening." You replied, turning your head over your shoulder to look at him with your wide eyes. "And after all, you're not my father. You don't get to punish me."

Daemon's eyes fell on you, his hard face still set in sternness. His gaze still burned with the same intensity of control and danger. But behind that lustful glow, he had his usual look, the one he wore when he was pissed off. It didn't bode well for you.

"You haven't been exemplary." He hissed. "You wanted to act like a whore. So I'm going to treat you like a whore." With that, Daemon stood up. He left you there, on the bed, the product of your desire smeared on your inner thighs. Completely naked. You watched him walk away towards the vanity at the other end of the room in a heavy silence.

You were confused.

You weren't sure you understood what had happened, what was going to happen, but the danger excited you.

Once in front of the vanity, he took the time to slowly unfasten the watch from his wrist and carefully place it on the marble tabletop. He took the time to remove his wedding ring from his finger. He took the time to take off his suit jacket and place it on the back of the chair. He took the time to open the bottle of champagne in the ice cube tray and pour himself a glass. He took the time to do all this - slowly, meticulously.

As if you didn't exist.

Of course, he could feel your gaze on him, your big eyes following his every move with incomprehension. But he wanted to play with his prey, like a cat with a mouse. And it was simply delicious to feel you so unsettled, to feel yourself losing your footing, to see you become a mass of hesitation and insecurity. He was in control and that was a feeling Daemon loved more than anything.

He returned to the edge of the bed and sat down, facing the mirror. He rolled up each sleeve of his shirt over his muscular forearms and finally, he turned his attention back to you. "Come, little one," he said, patting his thigh to entice you to come closer, a ravenous smile stretching his lips. "On kepus' laps." You gulped. You moved forward slowly, like a frightened animal. "Girls like you need to be taught a lesson, don't you think? 

You felt desire grow between your thighs - the familiar tingle at your core. "What lesson, old man?" You countered, your tongue flicking out of your lips as you settled into his laps like a little girl who deserved her punishment.  But wasn't that what you were; a little girl playing in the big leagues?

Daemon took the time to trace the full shape of your ass with a warm gentleness that contrasted sharply with the act he was about to perform. His fingers explored your skin, sliding lower, between the folds that still glistened with the essence of your desire. He let his fingers roam the most sensitive part of you, of your body, gathering the evidence of what you were feeling to soak his own fingers.

"You're going to count with me," Daemon whispered in his hoarse, urgent voice. " Up to ten. You can do it, can't you?"

You mentally prepared yourself for what was about to happen, your body tensing against his. You had lost all your repartee, all your wit. You were no longer the confident, bold young woman who had provoked him all these days - you were a little girl lost in the laps of a man far too old for her. 

You took a deep breath. And the first blow came. The palm of his hand struck the skin of your bottom with a slap that broke the silence between you. "One," you murmured as he stroked the skin he'd just bruised, his fingers lingering between your folds again. You stifled a moan. "Such a good girl," he whispered into your ear. 

And then again. The touch of his palm against your skin. The pain, red and hot, delicious too, spreading through you.  Two. And again. Three. And again. Four. And again. Five.

The red that now coloured your buttocks made him even harder than he already was. It was always that feeling of control, always that feeling of dominance, always the idea of teaching you a lesson that turned him on so much. He must have been completely sick in the head, but who wasn't, in his family?

He was no ordinary man, he was a Targaryen, and he was above the ordinary people. 

He paused for a moment, his fingers venturing once more into the space between your folds to catch the dripping wetness. "Tell me, is it the thought of being punished that makes you so wet, young girl?" he asked, wiping his fingers over your thigh. You held your breath. 

Your moans grew louder, closer, as his hand met your ass once more, and Daemon knew you were struggling to stay focused. You were losing control of your mind and it was all because of him. It was perfect.

"Up to ten, I said," he pointed out with a mixture of firmness and softness in his voice. "So? How far are we?" You searched for words. How could he ask you to think, to count - even to 10 - when you were incapable of thinking clearly with his fingers there? You were too drunk with pleasure to form a coherent thought. 

But Daemon demanded that you finish the count.  Two more.  Two more, and you had to use your words to count them out loud.

"Your words, girl. Don't make me tell you twice," Daemon repeated as his fingers traced the outside of your folds before parting them, stroking your slit, applying a little pressure to your entrance with the flat of a finger before withdrawing his hand.

But there was no answer, and Daemon sighed. Silly girl, making no effort, weren't you? Perhaps he should be more patient. After all, you had endured your punishment so well, with diligence. "So demanding, and for what?” He asked, his condescending tone seeping into his every word. "Be a good girl. I know you can do it, dear one. We were at eight."

You started counting again, with difficulty. Daemon gave you the remaining two slaps to complete your punishment, and he looked at you with pride.  You had taken them, all of them, with docility. He stroked your cheek. You would no doubt have a mark the next day, judging by the pink colour that now adorned your skin. But such a sight, coupled with the sight of his essence that would soon be dripping from your entrance, was something Daemon was determined to imprint under his eyelids.

"See, it wasn't so hard after all, was it?" he asked, his voice honeyed as he caressed your lower lip with his thumb. "I'm proud of you." Your eyes were brimming with tears - of joy or pain, you couldn't really tell. Probably a bit of both. You felt exposed, you felt like a hot mess, and yet you would have gladly taken more if Daemon had asked. 

You let Daemon guide you into a sitting position, your legs falling to either side of his muscular thighs. Hiding a wince of pain, you wondered for a moment whether to curse or thank him. You couldn't form a single sentence, couldn't utter a single word. So you wrapped your arms around his neck to bring your bodies together and your lips found refuge against his. The feel of his tongue against yours was comforting. Underneath you could feel the fabric of Daemon's trousers rubbing against your bare core. It was too much and not enough at the same time. You weren't satisfied with what he had given you. 

You needed more, you needed him. Inside you.

Daemon tightened his grip on your hip, his jaw clenched. He could feel the pressure building, like a storm ready to break. He wanted to grab you by the shoulders, press you against the mattress beneath him and take what he wanted from you. Without remorse. Without a thought for you, without a thought for your own pleasure. It took all his self-control to tame his impulses. As the kiss grew more passionate, the flat of his hand settled against the nape of your neck. His hand was so large compared to your face. He was so big compared to you. Your hips moved in a long, slow motion and you looked so vulnerable, completely naked against him, spilling your wetness all over his expensive Hugo Boss trousers.

He wondered if you could feel the effect you were having on him, the growing bulge trapped in his trousers.

When you broke the kiss, he gently tucked one of your curls behind your ear. Something in him had softened, maybe a little too much. Fuck. Since when had he become soft? Since when had he become anything other than a harsh and selfish man who cared only for his own pleasure? Deep inside, an inexplicable feeling made him doubt. It was paradoxical. And it irritated him to the bone.

Keeping control had always been a way of protecting himself.

Something sparkled in your eyes, he could barely make it out - but already you were sliding to your knees, in front of him, at his feet. You were already undoing the buckle on his belt to free his hard, angry member. "Let me show you how good I can be," you whispered against the tip of his reddened member. Your fingers wrapped around his cock. It was warm in your hand, heavy. You struggled to close your grip around it. Fuck, he was large.

You brought his member to your lips, the salty taste spreading across your tongue. You traced a vein on the underside with the tip of your tongue. "Am I doing well?" you breathed as you placed a series of kisses along his hard length. It was his turn to have lost all possibility of speech - or thought - as you felt his hand digging into your hair, hardening, forcing you to take him into your mouth, and you grinned. You let him guide you. You let him encourage you to take him deeper into your throat, feeling yourself drool around him. The act was messy, filthy, but delicious. He was heavy on your tongue, and the salty taste became more pronounced as his member throbbed.

Daemon couldn't help but think that this was your place. That he wanted to keep you there for all eternity. "You're doing well," he agreed. "But if you are as good as you say, you will have to take more of it," He paused, and as if to reassure you, he placed a fatherly hand on your cheek, his thumb caressing the space where he had disappeared between your lips. "You can do it, can't you?"

But he wouldn't last long. The feel of your lips, your wet mouth around him, the sight of you on your knees would be enough to make him come. 

"Look at you," he growled. "On your knees, where you belong. Sucking kepus' cock like the whore you are." It was getting harder and harder for him not to just spill out on your tongue. He was close. He would not be long.  But he didn't want to end now, not in your mouth, not when the night was just beginning.

So he grabbed your hair and pushed you back, letting you catch your breath for a moment. You had done well. But he wasn't done with you yet. You stood up timidly, hesitant, and Daemon took his time to study your naked body. You were beautiful. Beautifully young.

"Now, on the bed, young girl," he ordered, "before I change my mind." You complied. A thick tension hovered between the two of you, the result of a forbidden game that was becoming increasingly dangerous. But Daemon loved it. He loved this game. And judging by your reactions, he wasn't the only one.

He stripped completely before joining you. His body was sculpted to perfection - and you couldn't take your eyes off him. With a tap of his index and middle fingers on your thighs, Daemon told you to spread them, which you did. 

You felt even smaller under him. 

"I'm going to enter you and you're going to take all of me." His hand caressed your cheek briefly - always that contradictory combination of softness and firmness that drove you crazy - before wrapping his hand around his own member and rubbing it against your pearl. He didn't seek to penetrate you right away. He teased you. Moving back and forth between your swollen folds. Slowly. Too slowly.

And finally, he pushed into you. The intense feel of him washed over you, stretching your opening nicely as he sank into you. He filled you in a way no one else had - he was wide. He was deep. You closed your legs around him, subtly undulating your hips to let him dive deeper. The sensation was divine.

"Such a tight little cunt," he growled. Your nails dug into his back and he grunted into the hollow of your neck, his pelvis thrusting forward to bury himself further between your walls, to split you open. To go deeper. To hit that spot inside you again and again. "Made for my cock only." You swallowed the rasp that escaped his lips, your hands searching his hair, his skin, every inch of his body.

Suddenly, Daemon emerged from your warmth and deftly flipped you onto your stomach. "On your hands and knees." Moaning, tearful, you tried to cling to the sheets with the desperation of a castaway trying to escape drowning. "Please," you begged, rolling your hips back. "I need you. Demon, please."  He chuckled.

From behind you, he lifted your chin. "Open your eyes," he ordered again, and you obeyed, finding yourself facing your own reflection. "What do you see?" he asked as he plunged into you again, his hands gripping your hips. 

The vision before you reflected nothing but lechery - Daemon moving inside you, from behind, inflicting punishing thrusts. You wanted to look away in embarrassment, your cheeks flushed, but you knew that would be disobeying Daemon's orders. 

So you watched as he ruined you.

"U-Us," you replied with a groan. You wouldn't last long. "Us," Daemon repeated. But your answer wasn't enough - wasn't good enough for him.  "And what are we doing, little one?" 

Your cheeks were on fire. Your whole body was on fire. The words he was waiting for couldn't pass your lips. It was too much. Everything was too much. "We are..." The words were confused. They jumbled in your head. "You're - you're...fucking me," you stammered. Daemon rolled his hips harder, deeper, while his fingers sought out your little bud to accompany his thrusts. "Such bad words for a pretty mouth like yours," Daemon reprimanded you, emphasising his words with a particularly brutal thrust. You closed your eyes.

You were about to –

"No, young girl. Not yet. First, I want you to look at yourself taking me so well." Your eyes met his in the mirror. His movements became jerkier, your breathing more panting. "Daemon, please," you begged, not really knowing what you were asking. You felt his fingers. You felt his member inside you. You felt his warm chest against your back. You felt too much.

"Now you're going to be a good girl and keep everything I'm going to give you inside you," Daemon grunted, between erratic movements that became more and more slippery. Your intimate walls were squeezing him perfectly and he wished the feeling would never end.  “I wonder what your boyfriend would say –“

As your climax washed over your entire body, you collapsed onto the mattress. Daemon quickly followed, pulling your hips up against him to bring your pelvis against his, and he poured himself into you, his hot seed flowing between your warm walls. He lay still for a moment, savouring the bliss of his own release.

You winced as he pulled out and lay back on the bed beside you. "You've made a mess," he said as you felt the combination of your fluids running down your thigh to the sheet. "And whose fault is that, old man?" you grumbled as you instinctively lay down next to him, seeking comfort in snuggling up to him, curled up against his chest. "Yours," he replied.  He put an arm around you to keep you close. 

"Daemon, I wanted to tell you -" you started, but you could feel that he was somewhere else. His body was tense, his jaw clenched, his head full of thoughts that eluded you, and you wanted to ask him what was wrong. 

What had caused this change in his demeanour? 

He'd had you in bed. He'd ruined you. He'd fucked you unholy. He made you feel things even Jace couldn't.

So why did he suddenly seem so distant?

The comfort you sought was short-lived. Daemon was already reaching into his suit jacket to grab his pack of cigarettes. Throwing his shirt over his shoulders, he walked over to the window and took a deep drag. You looked at him, your heart sinking. It was stupid. It was stupid what you were about to say and you immediately put it out of your mind.

He was married and you were young enough to be his daughter, what interest could he have in you other than a forbidden one-night stand?

Daemon didn't look back. He tried to reassure himself that it was just a void he was trying to fill. A fantasy he had fulfilled; corrupting you. He wasn't the romantic type. He wasn't the type to fall in love - his marriage was proof of that. He tired of people easily.  He wasn't a good person.

But perhaps the game between you two had gone too far, and the idea frightened Daemon more than ever. He'd thought he could just take what he wanted - be satisfied with that and then send you back to your routine. But when he saw you in bed, naked between the sheets, his heart skipped a beat. He hated the idea.

Because he wasn't sure he was in control of the situation anymore.

[youaintnothinbuta]

Please please please do a Colt Seavers x reader where they get married im in NEED to marry him sm he's so malewife <3

“This is it.” — Colt Seavers x reader

Summary: colt and you have the most perfect wedding, exactly the way you dreamed it would go <3

Pairing: colt seavers x reader

Word count: 1.1K

Warnings: none!! Wedding Fluff <3 sorry if there’s typos

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You stand against the corner of the old castle-esque building, the sun casting comforting warmth over the meticulously tended gardens surrounding you. Your heart races as you press your back against the cool stone, gripping Colt's hand tightly. He’s just on the other side of the corner, you can’t see each other, but his strong, confident presence is relieving.

“I can’t believe it,” you say softly, squeezing his hand.

“I know, darlin',” Colt replies, his voice rich and steady. “This is it.”

“Don’t you dare pull some crazy stunt on me.” You laugh, the sound bubbling up from deep within you, easing some of the tension in your chest.

He laughs, “I promise, baby.”

Just then, your best friend and maid of honour, Emily, approaches, her dress swishing softly as she walks. “Alright, you two,” she says with a grin. “It’s time. Colt, you head to the altar. It’s almost showtime.”

“See you soon, beautiful. I love you,” Colt says, giving your hand one last squeeze before letting go. The absence of his touch feels strange and momentarily unsettling, but you take a deep breath, grounding yourself.

"I love you too," you reply, your voice barely a whisper.

Once he’s gone, Emily turns to you, her eyes shining with excitement. “Ready to do this?”

“As ready as I’ll ever be,” you say, a smile spreading across your face.

Your father appears then, his eyes misty with pride and emotion. He offers you his arm, and you take it. “You look amazing,” he murmurs, kissing your forehead gently.

“Thanks, Dad,” you reply, your voice thick with emotion.

“Let’s go give Colt a run for his money, huh?”

You laugh softly as you both step forward, and the double doors of the church open wide. The soft strains of the wedding march fill the air, and you see Colt standing at the altar, his eyes locked onto yours. He looks incredibly handsome in his suit. The moment he sees you, a visible shift happens. His strong features soften, and his eyes well up with tears. By the time you’re halfway down the aisle, those tears have spilled over, streaming down his cheeks. Your eyes blur with tears too, watching as he brings his hand over his mouth to stifle a cry.

You can’t feel the ground beneath you. You body is heavy, you move in slow motion against, hyper aware of all the eyes on you, yet the only thing in focus is Colt. When you reach him, your father places your hand in Colt’s and steps back, tearing up at the sight of you.

“Hi,” he whispers, his voice trembling with emotion. “You’re perfect.”

The intensity of the moment hits you, and you feel a tear slip down your cheek as you whisper-laugh, “Hi.”

He reaches up to gently brush it away, his touch tender. The ceremony proceeds, a blur of words and emotions, but every moment is etched in your heart. When it’s time to say your vows, Colt is up first, his voice earnest as he speaks to you.

When the officiant finally pronounces you husband and wife, Colt holds you, one hand on your waist, the other on your back. He dips you, placing a gentle, passionate kiss on your lips.

The reception had been everything you’d dreamed of—laughter, dancing, and love filling every corner of the grand hall. But now, the lights are dimming, and the music has faded into a soft murmur as the last guests say their goodbyes. You stand by the door, your arm looped through Colt's, watching your families exchange hugs and parting words.

“Take care of each other,” your mom says, her eyes shimmering with unshed tears as she hugs you tightly.

“We always have, Mom,” you assure her, squeezing her back before turning to Colt’s parents. They embrace you warmly, their approval and happiness evident.

As the last of the well-wishers leave, Colt looks down at you, his eyes filled with tenderness. “Ready to go, Mrs. Seavers?”

A thrill runs through you, at the sound of your new name.

“Almost,” you say, glancing around the now-empty room. “Let’s just have one more moment here. Just us.”

Colt nods, understanding. He leads you to the center of the room where earlier you’d shared your first dance as husband and wife. The remnants of the celebration—a few scattered petals, empty chairs, and half-finished glasses of champagne—create a quiet, intimate atmosphere.

Without a word, Colt pulls you into his arms. You rest your head against his chest, feeling the steady rhythm of his heartbeat as he begins to sway gently. There’s no music now, just the sound of your footsteps and the faint hum of the night outside.

“Today was perfect,” you murmur, closing your eyes and losing yourself in the feel of his arms around you.

“It was,” he agrees softly. “But this—just you and me—this is what I’ll remember most.”

You smile against his chest, your heart swelling with love. "Me too. This is all I’ve ever wanted."

The two of you continue to sway, the room silent except for the rustle of your dress and his suit.

Colt tilts your chin up, his eyes searching yours. “I promise to make every day feel like today,” he says, his voice wet with honesty.

It’s dark, but he can see your bright smile. He leans down, capturing your lips in a slow, tender kiss. When he pulls back, you’re both smiling, your foreheads resting together.

“Let’s go, Colt.”

The night is still and full of promise as Colt opens the car door for you, and you slip inside. As he joins you and starts the engine, you take his hand, feeling the warmth and strength of his grip. He turns to you, a mischievous glint in his eyes.

“Wanna do some doughnuts?” he asks, a playful smile spreading across his face.

You laugh, shaking your head. Why aren’t you surprised? “Sure.”

With a grin, Colt revs the engine, and the his truck roars. The two of you share a quick, exhilarated glance before he maneuvers the car into an empty section of the parking lot. Then, with his stunt man expertise, he whips the steering wheel, and the car spins in tight circles, the tires screeching against the pavement.

You’re both laughing now, the rush of adrenaline making the moment even more thrilling. The night sky spins above you, the stars blurring into streaks of light as he wraps his free arm around you, holding you to his side.

When he finally brings the car to a stop, you’re both breathless, your cheeks flushed with excitement. Colt turns to you, his eyes shining. “I love you,” he says, his smile shining through his tone.

“I love you too,” you reply, leaning over to kiss him.

[difficultdomains]

i‘m drunk and at a party rn but hEAR ME tf out cause all i can coherently think about rn is going to a party with geto.

even tho you arrive together, you‘re quickly pulled apart in different directions because there are just too many people you haven‘t seen in a while, too many new faces to meet and befriend.

you bump into each other occasionally, sneaking glances and smiles or even a fleeting hand on your waist as he squeezes past you through the crowd with his friends. you wink at him once from across the room and he swears he can instantly feel the heat creeping down his cheekbones (he’ll blame it on the whiskey highball he‘s drinking tho if anyone is quick enough to notice).

and when the night slowly starts fizzling out, your alcohol-fueled elation mellows down and your social battery comes dangerously close to being depleted, you know exactly where to find him. sprawled out on a couch in a slightly calmer area, thighs parted and relaxed, one arm resting lazily on the backrest. you can‘t help the heart eyes you shoot him when you spot him sitting there, with a couple more stray hairs having escaped his half-up half-down hairdo. he pats his thigh when you approach and you are quick to oblige, pulling him closer to whisper „you ready to leave?“ in his ear, your question being immediately met with enthusiastic nods.

he insists on the both of you saying your goodbyes to everyone, too polite to pull an irish exit on your friends. and when you‘re done, you stumble out into the cold, catching an uber home.

it doesn‘t take long until you fall into bed together, hair untied and skincare done, tangled up in the sheets you giggle and laugh inbetween kisses and recollections of the night‘s events. when you tell him how you saw one of the guys fall asleep during some random drinking game, a laugh so sweet escapes him, it makes you wish you could hear it again and again and again.

it also doesn‘t take long until your words run dry and your lightweight kisses sharpen into nips and bites, the flush on your faces no longer just caused by the residual alcohol coursing through your veins but rather by the precise, well-rehearsed motions of your hands. one slow pull here, one lazy push there and finally the fabric of his sweats and your sleep shorts is no longer separating you from each other. the pace he sets is slow, languid, bordering on sleepy - eyelids heavy from exhaustion and pleasure. your nails dig into the soft shirt he‘s still wearing, gasps and pants intermingling between your lips until the tension you‘re both feeling builds and snaps like a rubber band.

after that, you don‘t just fall asleep, you black out, body heat ramped up enough for your sheets to be crumpled and hanging down the edge of the bed instead of wrapped around the both of you.

a/n: i am no longer drunk or at that party lmao but i found this in my drafts this morning - so to honour drunk me‘s dedication to sitting in a corner for 10 mins and writing this down, i‘m posting it in its og form

[khloxxy]

hello! i hope you're doing well ^_^ i just wanna ask about your favorite headcanon of rus, cana and ame (if you're up for it, no pressure, i wanna see what kumajirou looks like in your style)

i like your art! don't mind me if you see me liking your posts hehe

Hello (^_^) thank you... Your art is very beautiful I'm honoured... Sorry if this is kinda late(?) my brain works best when it's the middle of the night. I wrote this in my notes at like 3am...

My headcanons are really messy and subject to change so keep that in mind 🙏 Gonna put them under a read more cause they're pretty long and I rambled on and on.. Got carried away sorry!! Also it's kind of cringe at some points but that's okay. To be cringe is to be free.

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Rus: My beloved... He's cute, yes, but also very creepy. (I love a creepy rus) I see him as this character that's always looming over everyone, always watching... He likes how docile and obedient Cana is, and with Ame... well... He likes the challenge.

He likes the arts... And I believe he's an incredible poet and dancer. I like to think that Rus spends his free time writing hauntingly beautiful poetry in a journal of his since there are a lot of beautifully written Russian literature... That journal could also probably work as his diary too because why not. He also does ballet and figure skating, and Ame probably calls him gay for it, this irks Rus but that's okay. He'll rip the tongue out of that American's loud mouth one day. He just has to be patient. (that last part is cringe but my rusame brain told me to write it)

For music I think he'd like classical (tchaikovsky) and metal. I also think he'd visit old abandoned buildings just to see the ruins. Maybe even appreciate the architecture? He finds beauty in the decay.

His relationship with Ame is a game of chess (Rus loves chess, so he loves whatever he has going on with Ame), each move calculated, each interaction charged with unspoken tension (they never reveal their love for eachother... the only time that would happen is probably in life-or-death situations but with their immortality that's practically impossible – actually you know what?? Scratch that. No confessions... Unless drunk or under the influence of something maybe.) With Cana, it's more like a delicate dance, appreciating his gentleness but always aware of the fragile nature of their bond – he's aware that cana and him are only really bound together through Ame.

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Cana: Neglected boy (eng and fra both coddled Ame more) ... Envious of Ame but still loves him – he's frustrated. He knows so much about Ame but Ame knows nothing about him. Ame doesn't care enough to bother learning about him. It's unfair. I believe he actually has Kumajirou for comfort... But even his pet bear doesn't remember him (to be fair, he doesn't remember Kumajirou's name either.)

For music taste, I think he'd like shoegaze actually... it's calm yet messy-ish and it matches well with his vibe. (Totally not just projecting my music taste onto him)

He dislikes being in the shadow of his brother but he does appreciate his brother sticking up for him. Doing all the talking for him. He doesn't like new people usually. They never understand. (Never understand his freak.. yes Cana has a hidden freak to me.)

He genuinely gets along with rus. They're more similar than they initially thought after all. I mean they're both shy (to a point), both live in cold climates, both have weird relationships with ame... And both are connected through Ame... Rus and Cana both recognize that they are intrinsically tied together only through Ame.

---

Ame: Insufferable (put him in the eternal torture chamber!) Even so, Rus and Cana are still drawn to him like moths to a flame. Type of guy to test the limits of his immortal body... I wish Hima did more with their immortality because that is such an interesting subject. Probably has more DUIs than you can count. Has crashed a plane on purpose. No way you can be the United States of America and not end up crazy.

For the Cold War... Ame was genuinely disappointed when the USSR fell, he was like "well... what now...??" Because for several decades he had a villain to match his hero... But now that Rus fell off... what now? He misses the thrill and rush of it (he's a thrill-seeker... Type 3 fun typa guy). Also, he knew nothing would actually happen anyhow because of M.A.D (Mutually Assured Destruction) no one would actually drop bombs.. right? (they had a few close calls). Maybe the cold war was just one big edging session... (Lmfao sorry had to say it)

Okay adding to the above thing but the paragraph got too long for me. Another reason why Ame thrived in the cold war is that Rus had his singular attention on him. Just him. He loved that. He loved having all of someone's attention. He can't help it. He's just a girl! 🎀 (Kinda yandere-ish vibes but I fw yandere ideas so... Actually all 3 of them could be yandere in the right mindset.)

To me, Ame is the kind of person who thrives on adrenaline, always seeking the next big rush – he's also a huge sucker for attention. That's why he does the crazy things he does. For attention. After all, what is he without attention?

With Cana, well this is a me thing but I like to think that Ame is actually quite clingy with his brother.. He's one of the only people Ame allows to touch him.. Ame's not a very touchy person. Ame does crave genuine connections and Cana is one of the few that can offer that. They're each other's one and only brother after all. That has to mean something.

His relationship with Cana? Complicated... They seem good from the outside but Ame barely knows anything about his brother. Cana could say a million things about Ame but Ame could only respond with maybe a few hundred or so things about Cana – heck, maybe even that would be stretching it. Although, Ame does care for his brother in his own way, truly.

Last little thing I'd like to add: Ame has a collection of vintage stuff. I don't know why. Vintage things just scream American to me. Like old comic books..

[itskattkm]

The air in my lungs

Chapter 5

Cairo Sweet x Fem Reader

Summary: A stroke of fate changes you and leads you into the arms of Cairo Sweet. Will she be your downfall or save you?

Warnings: 18+, SMUT AHEAD! Grief, loss of a parent, Injuries, Smoking, Trauma, anxiety, sexual content, student x teacher mentioned, harm, blackmailing, bad grammar

A/N: Based and inspired by Millers Girl. Mr. Miller himself isn’t really present but will be mentioned. Hope you guys enjoy.

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When Cairo was home she was lying in her her empty bathtub full of pillows standing a few meters away from her bed.

She watched a spider crawling on the ceiling and couldn’t stop thinking about your lips. Everytime she closed her eyes she sighed and felt her own lips tingling. Reminding her self how soft and good your lips felt while you were sharing the rest of the smoke and tasting each other’s mouth. She touched her neck, still feeling your firm grip around it. Oh how bad she wanted to be caressed by you, kissed by you on places she was feeling the need of being touched. She wanted to feel your lips on her chest… no. If she would be honest with herself, she wanted to feel your lips down there. She could feel her clit throbbing and pulse while she started to think about it with her eyes still closed.

She was lying in the bathtub only wearing her oversized shirt. She began to caress her tight with her fingertips. Feeling a tingle coming from her clit. Her slip getting soaked already when she imagined your lips tracing kisses down her inner tights before you would kiss her cunt deeply. The way you would probably tease her with your tongue while doing a slow and long lick through her pussy. She began to breath heavy, considering if she should touch herself or not. Craving for you to touch her and please her. But you weren’t here… and she couldn’t help herself anymore and needed to release some of the tension that was build up over the last two days and the short moment between you two in the woods.

So she took a deep breath and leaned her head back before slipping her hand into her slip. She was surprised by her own wetness. She usually never masturbated. Sure she touched her self once… out of curiosity and to help her writing about the ‚experience‘. But never did she felt the urge before to mover her fingers into her throbbing cunt because she felt the need to. The urge to. And that because of you. A classmate. A girl named y/n. She felt slightly hurt in her honour If she could say it like that. She was to pride to admit such things.

But here she was. Circling her one finger around her clit while thinking it would have been you. You lying on top of her. She wanted to feel your bodyweight on hers. Oh how bad she wanted you and couldn’t have you. She thought frustrated while she started to lose control, so she just went for it. She pushed her finger into the soaked cunt, she gasped. Feeling her hips bucking up out of Intension. She was shocked about the fact how tight she was. That was your fault. And that made her breath heavier. She felt mad. Mad because you did this to her and didn’t seemed to care about it. It should have been your finger instead of her own. Moving in till she met her knuckles. It felt like it wasn’t enough. She wasn’t sure if she could feel the pleasure of a orgasm by herself. The anger began to rise inside of her. She was breathing loud now while moving her finger slightly faster in and out. But it wasn’t enough. She didn’t felt satisfied at all. She stopped moving abrupt. She opened her eyes. She wanted to see your face… wanted to look into your eyes. Instead she saw the dark wooden ceiling. The spider she saw before was now gone.

She pulled her finger out and sat up. Her chest rising and her heart pushing hard against her chest. It was like her heart was screaming and trying to escape the jail made of bones, flesh, blood and skin.

She was holding herself up on the edge of the bathtub. Her gaze fell towards her hand she had been using, only to see the spider crawling along the edge. She was deep in thoughts when suddenly the ring of the doorbell was getting her out of it. She got up fast and cleaned her self before going down all the way through the mansion to open the door for…

“Winnie?” She said surprised. Her friend grinning wide while popping the lollipop she was licking on. Her long brown waved hair falling all over her shoulders. Cairo sighed loud and looked cold at Winnie saying “Can you help me?” Cairo asked, her hunger for y/n making her impatient now. “I… really need you to help me right now…” Cairo said with a little desperation in her voice now. She wasn’t going to tell that she, well… some sort of tried or, no she indeed was masturbating but without the luck of being pleased by that. She didn’t wanted to tell Winnie. She would probably laugh at her or even worse… would see what kind of a weak mess Cairo was. Because of you.

“Why? What Happened? Oh! And how were things with Y/n?” Asked Winnie wit a dirty grin and entered Cairos mansion.

“Terrible.” Cairo whispered, having lost all her patience now and feeling her hunger for you growing. “I want to see her again but I don’t know how to make her come back to me.” Cairo said in a little desperation now. “Please… I don’t know what to do. I have this feeling. I can’t tell if it’s love or just pure lust. I just want her to come back to me.” Cairo said, now with a little bit of panic in her voice. “I really need you to help me now, Winnie.”

There was something in Cairos eyes that made feel Winnie slightly scared. Wich only told her that her best friend was being dead serious. “Damn… what happened?” She asked attentive while following her upstairs to her bedroom. “She just left me now!” Cairo said. “She said I said the wrong thing and then she just left.” Cairo said, her hunger for you becoming really hard to control now. “I really don’t know what to do.” Cairo said with a little anger at y/n inside her and desperation in her voice. “Does she know how hungry I am for her?” Cairo asked now in a very low, hungry and desperate voice. “I want to be with her right now. Please, Winnie. I need her.”

Winnie sat down pretty speechless on the edge of Cairos bed and watched her. This was a whole different Cairo she was used to “please from the begging… I don’t understand what you’re talking about” she said in a calm tone since Cairo was pretty loaded.

Cairo sighed a little and told Winnie her whole story, even going into details such as her crush on you and the cigarettes of course. And she told Winnie how she wanted you so badly and couldn’t do anything about it anymore. “I’m so hungry for her.” Cairo said with a trembling voice now. “Winnie, please. Is there any way to get her back?” Cairo asked, feeling scared right now. “I really don’t want her to leave me like this.”

Winnie looked speechless at Cairo

“Fuck y/n really knows what shes doing… and your stupid ass said seriously ‘But I need those cigarettes’? Girl you better say the right thing next time. Do you even understand the hints she was giving you?” Said Winnie and made a bit of fun of Cairo before glaring at her for being so stupid.

“I… I don’t know. I… I just wanted to say something so she didn’t find me easy. That’s why I talked about the cigarettes.” Cairo said while looking a little ashamed on her face. Did you hate her now? Was y/n angry with her? Cairo wished she could have just said the right thing. But she was so hungry over you at this point that she felt like she couldn’t think straight anymore.

Winnie looked at her with a tilted head

“The cigarettes gave you what you wanted… that was y/n…. But she also tried to use them to get you girl! When she said you need a diffrent addiction she was talking about herself!” She sighed dramatically and shook her head

So many hints. So many signs and Cairo was messing it up pretty good. Cairo felt her heart skipping a beat with everything Winnie was saying right now. Was she really that stupid? She couldn’t believe how she missed this. But yet, she was so surprised that she could have missed y/n intentions behind those words. “Wait… so y/n likes me back?” Cairo asked now in a very excited way. “Please tell me it’s true… please. Cause I defiantly have a crush on her and didn’t dared to do anything.”

“She’s flirting so hard with you girl… crush or smash, I don’t know but she wants you. And you better act right the next time! Screw those fucking cigarettes said Winnie while she was the one who made Cairo even a smoker. “So She’s indeed flirting with me??” Cairo asked, her body feeling so excited and her mind feeling so confused right now. But that made this hunger she felt inside her for y/n grow so much more. Cairo knew she wanted y/n now, she knew she had to fight back her desires and take you right now with a clear mind. But how could she achieve that if she couldn’t really tell what you wanted right now? “But what do you mean with “Act right”? Y/n knows I like cigarettes for sure…”Cairo said, her mind now going crazy over wanting you so badly.

“Next time you’ll understand. And you better get laid by that hot girl with her scars on the back… I want some dirty tea next time” Winnie said serious. “I will…” Cairo whispered, feeling her body become more excited now. She felt so stupid that she had missed those hints you gave her. All this time she was so confused and overwhelmed because there was way too much tension. “I’m gonna have to use everything to get her next time.” Cairo said with a teasing smile now. “I’m gonna get my sweet dirty tea next time Winnie.”

The next day it was raining pretty heavy, there was also a thunder making the earth tremble. Hot summer thunderstorms. She loved it. The rain was heavy and loud. Watched it from the canopy she was standing under, at the back of the school. Leaned on the building, watching steam rising from the concrete. Showing how hot it was and how the nature tried to cool down itself. She was taking a deep hint on her cigarette, like always she was the first one at the schools land. She watched some teachers parking their cars before disappearing in the building. Her body began to relax. Her mind felt lighter than the last few hours.

But the more she thought about calming down she felt her anxiety grow more and more now, especially due to the rain and thunder. The idea that you could find her anytime was scary, but also so desirable at the same time. “I really want my sweet y/n.” Cairo whispered, her body not able to hold it anymore now. As she smoked her cigarette, she was able to feel her anxiety calm down a little, however, it now became a different kind of anxiety. What if you saw her again? What if y/n thought she was stupid and hated her now for what she said?

“I love rain…” Cairo almost twitched when she recognized you in the corner of her eyes. “I rather enjoy it from home…” you added without looking at her, instead you watched the rain. Cairo’s heart skipped a beat. “Y/n…” Cairo whispered while her eyes grew wide, her body becoming so excited that you still cared about her somehow. She wasn’t angry at you, that’s what all this fear inside her had caused her to think. But now this was all gone, and she didn’t want to waste a single second to have you with her right now. “Y/n…” Cairo said calmly now, taking a deep breath and closing her eyes while trying to collect herself now. “I need you y/n.” Cairo whispered, her body growing so hungry for you.

A smile appeared on your lips, you leaned on the wall right beside her and watched her fingers, eyes fixated on the cigarette between her fingers. Cairo looked down at her cigarette with a little smile on her face now as she looked at you. She let the cigarette fall down now and stomped on it with her foot to turn it off. She wanted to kiss y/n so badly right now, but she also felt like it might be a little too intense now. It was still early in the morning and Cairo wanted to show you a different side of her first. But that didn’t stop the hunger from growing inside her right now of course which she couldn’t hide.

“And..?” You whispered looking at the destroyed cigarette under Cairos foot. “And….” Cairo whispered, not wanting to say it just yet. It was too early for this, at least that was what she tried telling herself now. But you were looking at her with such desire and lust in the eyes, which made it almost impossible for her to say no. Suddenly she took your hand and looked at you with the deepest desire she had ever felt even. “I want you. So badly. Right now.” Cairo whispered, her body feeling so craving for you now.

“Good answer” you whispered low and pushed her quickly against the wall before kissing her hard. Feeling goosebumps all over your body. While your body couldn’t decide if it felt hot or cold now. Cairo felt her body turn so hot with just a single touch of your lips on hers, it was insane. It almost felt like her whole heart was burning inside her. All other feelings disappeared right now and she wanted you more than anything. “I need you y/n. I need this.” Cairo whispered in the middle of the kiss and pulled you closer to her, wanting to feel your body against her body as much as possible now.

“Come with me” you whispered heavy against her lips and took Cairos hand while walking towards your car. It was Parked near the woods. Following you to your car, her heart pounded hard now. She couldn’t believe that she was finally gonna taste you, to feel your lips and your body. Cairo could barely contain her emotions from just feeling your fingers on hers. “I… am just so hungry for you.” Cairo whispered in your ear now, her voice low and quiet as her eyes looked into y/n. “Can we go somewhere private y/n? Can I finally see you in a place where nobody will notice?” Cairo asked with a teasing tone while also being so incredibly excited right now.

You both were getting soaked by the rain while running towards y/n car. You couldn’t help but smile a bit cheeky when she said she was hungry for you… and the fact that she wanted to be alone with you now? You felt your heart racing like crazy. You couldn’t believe that you were having all those crazy moments with Cairo Sweet. And what was about to come would be unforgettable.

You opened the passenger door for Cairo so she could sit down in your car. The rain felt so good on your body. Even tho you were already completely wet, it cooled down your body and made the moment feel so much more intense. When you sat down in the car and looked at her you recognized that the windows of your car had been already completely steamed by the hot air.

“My place or yours?” You asked with a soft tone. Looking at her with admiration. You couldn’t enjoy her beauty after swimming class a two days ago. So you took your time. Watching the raindrops falling from her wet hair, sliding down along her beautiful face. That sharp jaw you wanted to place soft kisses on. Her long lashes making her dark eyes almost look like they were black. Your mind was drifting off, getting lost in her beauty. “Y-your place?” Cairo whispered with her voice shaking, her heart beating so fast right now. Her body felt so hot from just seeing you. She wanted you to touch her so badly. But she felt so nervous now that she was about to see you in a private place. “I… I can’t really have anyone come home right now.” Cairo said while blushing a little, her body feeling so hot right now. But she couldn’t wait anymore. “let’s go to your place.” Cairo whispered seductively.

You nodded and turned on the car to drive back home. You were starting to feel nervous for like the really first time now. You can’t remeber feeling like that for a long time. After the accident and your new way of living you stopped caring about many things. You became numb to a few things which made it easier for you to have fun and worry less. But Cairo Sweet. Let’s say you didn’t though that bold move of you back then, who was supposed to just caught her of guard and make her realize that you wouldn’t allow her or anyone else to be mean to you… yeah… that changed a few things. Before the accident you always thought she was beautiful and somehow cute but she used to scare you also. But that one interaction? The kiss that was coming from you… just to make a statement? You couldn’t stop thinking about it. You couldn’t ignore what you felt deep down. You couldn’t ignore that you enjoyed the teasing and flirting you both had. You couldn’t ignore the fact that you liked being around her. After a 15 minute drive that was quiet and slightly awkward, you made it to your home. You parked in the Garage, getting out of the car and opened the door for Cairo.

“My dad is working till 3 pm so we have the whole day for us…” you said quite shy now while taking Cairos hand and leading her through the small house you lived in. It was initiated pretty modern but also cozy, but you were sure it couldn’t be compared to the big mansion Cairo lived in. You walked slowly upstairs with her, walking past family photos that were hanging on the wall.

Soon you reached the second floor and opened the door to your bedroom, hearing a strong thunder outside, followed by a lightning. What a dramatic entrance you thought nervous. You let go of Cairos hand and let her check out your bedroom while closing the door behind you. Your bedroom was cold. Thank god Cairo thought cause the heat wave outside was getting dangerous. The blinds were down while your window was opened. The thunderstorm started to create a cold breeze wich was floating through your bedroom now. Making both of you feel somehow relieved. You turned on the small lamp on your drawer since the dark clouds outside made it pretty dark in here.

Cairo couldn't wait right now. There was nothing she wanted more in her whole life than to have you right now. Being with you alone in that cozy bedroom made her anxiety grew more and more right now. What if your Dad would came home suddenly? But that didn't matter. She trusted your words and got lost in the details in your bedroom. It was pretty clean and basic. Only two Posters of your favorite movies were on the wall, framed. Another frame with many Polaroids of you and your family? Friends? She felt somehow safe and comfortable in your bedroom. Sure you didn’t lived in a mansion like her. Her bathroom alone had the size of your bedroom. But it was enough. For people with a well amount of money it was a big bedroom. She couldn’t help and look at the Polaroids, you had a few with your mother, she assumed. Your mother that died, in a car crash you barely survived and took scars from it as Cairo remembered. She felt somehow different now. She couldn’t quite explain it.

“I… kinda have a thing for Polaroids” you said in such a soft and kind tone that Cairo could feel that you were smiling without even looking at you. Cairo moved her head to the side. Y/n standing beside her and looking at the frame full of Polaroids. “It’s like holding memories in your han-“ you both stoped mid sentence. Looking at each other and smiling shyly.

“Exactly” you whispered and looked at Cairo with admiration. You swallowed hard before moving your hand up to her face, you hesitated, feeling nervous, but you kept going and moved a wet hair strand out of her face, before fixing her bags so gently, you barely touched her. There was a smile on Cairos lips you haven’t seen before. It wasn’t lust… it wasn’t desire. It was something diffrent. Something way more intimate than you could ever imagined.

You caressed her cheek with your fingertips. Seeing the reflection of the dimmed light from your lamp in her eyes. Both of you were soaked. Even tho the water cooled you both down… you wanted to get rid of them. You slowly moved your fingertips down her neck, towards her collarbone before helping her to take of her black sweatshirt. Now her upper body was exposed and you could see her beautiful light skin, wich only emphasized the black laced bra she was wearing.

Your eyes were watching every inch of Cairo Sweets beautiful body. Cairo felt so happy, you were taking care of her so slowly and gently. Her stomach was jumping as you started to take off her sweatshirt. She felt so incredibly hungry for you right now and so close to you like never before. Carefully you touched her stomach. Your hand moving slowly in a sensual way around her waist. Feeling how cooled down her skin was because of the rain. You pulled her closer and felt her nose brushing yours while you kept looking down.

“Is this okay my dear?” You whispered and moved your hand a bit lower. Your finger moving under the band of her shorts. Cairo nodded, making your noses brush again while whispering “yes”. The next moment Cairos shorts fell to the ground, her hands made her way towards your hips. She moved her hands under your white shirt, taking it off while you tried to get rid of your hot pants. The moment you both were only standing in front of each other in underwear you leaned in and placed your lips softly on her neck. Your hands resting on her hips. Holding her firm.

"Please y/n... I need you." Cairo whispered now, as her body was craving you like nothing else now. Her body was so hungry for you. Cairo's stomach was jumping inside her now. She couldn't wait. Every time you kissed Cairo's neck, or even just touched her now, Cairo started to feel her blood boil even more. It started to get hot in your room now. The thunder was still growling while a slight breeze flew by through your opened window. This was beyond her imagination. It didn’t quite felt like lust and desire anymore. It felt diffrent, somehow way more intimate that she could ever imagined or write down. She just wanted you to do whatever you wanted with her right now. She wanted to get lost in you.

In a wave of passion that flood through your body you picked her up. Holding tight on her tights wich made Cairo wrap her legs around your hips. Since she was almost a head smaller then you it was pretty easy to hold her like that. You breathed heavy against her neck before laying her down in your bed. Your lips meeting hers immediately. You never though that being close to someone like that would make you feels so good in so many ways. Your arms were resting beside her shoulders while you held yourself up, above her body. Kissing her with heavy breaths. Feeling the sensation of her soft wet lips touching yours again and again.

Cairo Sweet was indeed sweet, a drug you came addicted to, the first time your lips met hers.

She couldn't believe this. She's never felt this way before. She laid down on your bed with a soft sigh as you kissed her deeply like this. Cairo was so eager now, her hunger for you was bigger than anything else. You could do anything you wanted with Cairo now, and she definitely wanted you to make her feel everything she's ever needed in her life right now. She didn’t had to write about it anymore or dream about it… trying to please her self while her thoughts were by you. She had you now. You were right here and gave her what she needed… what she was carving for since the first time your lips met hers.

She began to feel the weight of your body on top of hers. One of your hands moving around her neck while kissing her so slow and sensual it made loose Cairo her mind.

Your mouth opened and she felt your hot breath against her lips while you made your lips brush hers. You were asking for her permission and she gave you that by opening her mouth. You kissed her passionately. Your tongue exploring her mouth. Cairo moaned slightly and reflected your movements.

Cairo felt her body grow more and more excited with every touch from you now. Cairo was so ready for y/n now. She wanted you to take her in anyway you wanted right now. She didn't mind letting you decide how her body should be explored as you had always seemed so confident and so beautiful even before this. "Please y/n... take me. I am so ready for you. Take me however you want me right now." Cairo begged, her eyes full of desire for you at this point. Her clit was throbbing so hard at this point. She couldn’t even compare it to the way she felt yesterday in her bedroom.

“Is this your first time?” You whispered after breaking the kiss and looking into her eyes.

Cairo began to feel nervous at this point but she decided to be honest "Yes y/n" she whispered softly with her eyes locked with yours. "I've never had anyone touch me like this. I want you to be my first." Cairo admitted with a lot of desire and love? for you in her voice right now. I nodded quietly before kissing her slowly and sensual. Cairo's eyes filled with anxiety now as she felt your lips going down on her neck. She felt it everywhere on her body. She felt like she couldn't wait anymore now. "Y/n..." Cairo whispered, feeling somehow scared?

“It’s okay…” you whispered soothing into her ear before kissing her cheek soft, placing down kisses along her jaw. While your hand caressed the side of her body. Their body’s were still wet from the rain. The skin of each other felt cold, but they also felt the heat rising their body’s were producing. Y/n hands moved so smooth along Cairos wet tights while kissing her chest.

So soft… so gently. This was beyond what Cairo had imagined. She wasn’t even thinking about the hard stuff she was used to write. This was so much better. It felt so much more intense. The way you caressed her tight made her almost shiver. Her clit was still throbbing and pulsing like crazy.

In a smooth way you had put the fabric of Cairos slip between your fingers, pulling it slowly down. You sat up, on your knees in front of her. Cairo raised her legs slightly so you could take her slip off easily. While doing that your eyes lingered on her reaction. You saw her breathing heavy but she still seemed so calm. There was a light in her eyes you could get lost in forever. Her lips looked slightly wet, just by looking at them you felt your own tingling.

The moment you removed her slip and let it fall beside your bed you had put your hands on her slightly closed legs. Cairo was watching every move of your hands, so she didn’t even noticed that you watched her face expression instead. Slowly you moved your hands up to her knees. You could see her pupils getting bigger the moment you opened her legs just to place your body between them. You could swear she gasped but Cairo Sweet was also pretty good in hiding her expressions. You held back a smirk before reaching for a blanket and putting it above the both of you.

Another growl came from the thunder outside. The light of the lightning strikes through your bedroom, when you leaned over Cairo and your eyes met hers. You had goosebumps now. The cold was noticeable. But the heat of our body’s was even more present.

You brushed your nose slightly against Cairos

Whispering “relax my dear” before kissing her cheek gently, then her jaw and then her neck. You had found your favorite spot, Cairos neck. It was so soft and warm. You could feel her pulse when your lips touched it. With pure love you kissed her neck slow, your tongue meeting her skin. Love. So that was the word that came now into your mind? You sighed into too her neck in pleasure. Giving her hot open mouthed kisses, biting her slight when it was getting to much for yourself.

A moan escaped Cairo and her heart began beating as even harder now as you took care of her like this. She felt so warm all of the sudden, and even though she was only in her bra, she didn't felt cold at all anymore. She could enjoy you touching her like this without having to worry about anything else. You were everything she could want, everything she could dream of and more right now. She wanted you so badly that she could feel her chest trembling under your touch. "Y/n... I'm yours. I want to be yours completely." Cairo whispered with a hoarse voice while kissing you deeply back.

You then kissed her gently and whispered into her ear “you’ll be my first too” before kissing her chest and moving down to her breasts.

Cairo's eyes widened once she heard y/n words. "R-really y/n?" Cairo asked while her eyes grew wider now. If you were actually being serious right now, that made everything the two of them were gonna do now even more real and even more exciting. But Cairo also felt so incredibly safe right now. You had taken care of her, and now you were gonna be her first. Cairo knew exactly what was gonna happen now, but couldn't contain her excitement that y/n was actually gonna be her first. And she will be yours. “Thank you…” Cairo whispered almost not audible.

“No… I need to thank you” you whispered and bit slight into her breast that was covered in the thin black laced bra she was wearing. A slight moan escaped her,

“Thank you… for making me feel alive again”. You whispered husky

And then Cairo began to remembered about the awful car crash you barely survived. About your dead mother and about the scars on your back. Cairo's heart was beating hard once you mentioned that she had made you feel alive again. "I've never felt this way before y/n. You are my everything right now." Cairo whispered while letting you feel her love for you and making you feel like they were the only two people in this world right now. She wanted you to feel so safe right now, she wanted you to know how important being safe and loved was to her right now. "Let's do this y/n... make me yours." Cairo whispered with a soft smile, not wanting this moment to end anytime soon at all.

You looked up at her and stopped kissing her covered breast. Your eyes met hers. You looked at her and felt like melting right in her arms. You felt so good… so safe… so comfortable. Cairo moved slightly before looking at you with her head tilted. One hand rested on your back while the other moved with her fingers through your hair. Moving it to the side so she could appreciate your face. She was holding your hair between her fingers and caressed the scalp of your head. Your eyes wandered to the hand she had on your back. Where she was caressing one of your scars along your left shoulder blade. You began to have goosebumps. Feeling so relaxed and somehow loved?

You slowly looked back to Cairo, she had a tiny smile. Almost invisible but you saw it in the way the corners of her mouth moved up.

You immediately moved back up and kissed her hard. Making her gasp for air. Cairo felt her whole body shaking right now, unable to contain herself anymore as your hand moved slowly down her stomach, coming closer to her lower part of the body.

You breathed heavy against her lips while she moved her arms around your back. Holding you close. Your fingers slid slowly between her folds. You slightly bit your own lip, feeling how soaked she was already. Making your self feel turned on as well. “please..." Cairo whispered now, her eyes growing even wider now as you began to move your fingers in circles around her throbbing clit. A moan escaped Cairo and you decided to not play around for long. You went for it. Your fingertip teasing her wet cunt. Making you breath harder and burry your face in Cairos neck. "Y/n... I'm... I'm... gonna explode." Cairo said, her breath becoming more and more rapid. You smiled into the crook of her neck and kissed her before biting slight into her skin while moving your finger slowly inside her. You felt her nails in your back and breathed even heavier “so tight…” you whispered. You couldn’t help it.

It was turning you on in so many ways and the fact you were doing this with Cairo Sweet. The moment those words left your lips you could feel Cairos walls around your finger getting even tighter if this was even possible. You went deeper and deeper penetrating her with the full size of your finger. But you were craving for more. You began to move your finger slowly in and out. Feeling Cairo getting more and more aroused with every move. She started breathing heavier. Almost panting.

You kissed soft her pulse before asking

“Are you okay?” To check on her. She moaned a quiet “yes” with a slight pitched voice when you moved your finger back inside of her slowly. She was gripping your biceps tight. “Tell me if it hurts” you whispered seductive before adding another finger. She was so tight you struggled to penetrate her almost. But she was so soaked in her wetness… it made it easier than it should have. Cairo didn't even react to the feeling right now right away as she was still trying to contain how good this was feeling in general. She was so hungry for you. And now she could finally, finally have you and make herself feel pleasure like never before. After a few moments though her body reacted and Cairo started breathing loud. Her grip tightened around your bicep.

“Did it hurt?” You asked softly and stopped moving deeper. "Yes... but a good feeling of pain." Cairo explained now as she looked at you with a lot of affection in her eyes. "I feel so good right now y/n. You're so amazing." Cairo whispered now with so much passion in her voice. You couldn’t help but smiled and kissed her cheek before keep going deeper very slow, so Cairo could get used to it while your fingers stretched her out. Cairo's body felt so good right now during this whole process as she couldn't contain herself anymore. Every move you made on her felt incredible. She's never felt this way before and wanted to keep this feeling forever. Your lips on her neck made her feel so safe at the same time and she's glad you were her first, taking advantage of her virginity. Everything you were doing right now, everything you did to Cairo, felt so perfect.

The moment your fingers were fully inside her, a moan escaped her. You weren’t moving anymore. You gave her time to get used to it. Cairo was breathing heavy. Her back slightly arched when her walls tightened around your fingers the minute you moved them slight. She gave you a quiet nod, signaling you that she was ready.

Your breath started getting heavier and heavier while Cairo's eyes slowly closed. Every move you made now seemed to affect Cairo so deeply that she couldn’t take it anymore. "Y/n... I... I-" she couldn’t end her sentence. Moaning loud when you held her hip tight with your free hand and then began to move in a slow pace while moving fully inside her till your knuckles touched her cunt.

Cairo's eyes were closed and she let herself be controlled by your moves right now. This was so good right now, being in control now of her body and her own thoughts while you did most of the action. She wanted you to take care of her right now, and you were doing a really good job at doing exactly that right now.

Your tongue moved along her pulse, placing kisses on her throat and chest while you pushed your fingers faster into her cunt. Feeling her wetness dripping down your knuckles at this point.

Your breath was getting harder and harder with every move you did now while Cairo kept moaning in pleasure while this all happened. She enjoyed this moment so deeply right now and just wanted this moment to go on forever. She literally couldn't contain her reactions anymore. She sighed deeply, feeling so satisfied and happy right now. She was feeling this feeling so deeply in her body right now. "Y/n... you're so good y/n." Cairo whispered this time.

You began to be more passionately. Your lips moving along every spot you could find. Kissing her. Tasting her skin. You were moving your fingers so fast that you felt yourself getting wet at the sensation how Cairos walls clenched around you. Getting tighter you assumed she would be getting close. Cairo's eyes were growing bigger now as her breath grew heavier and her face's temperature became even hotter. "Ohh... y/n." Cairo whispered now while her voice was growing softer over time right now. She could feel her body reaching its peak right now and you began to go even faster. "Y/n, you're gonna make me-..." Cairo whispered but couldn’t end her sentence she her voice broke off. But you knew exactly what she was talking about and it made you go a bit rougher now. “That’s what I want my dear” you whispered husky into her ear.

Your pace grew even faster and so turned your touch rougher, Cairo began to hold on very tight to the bed now. "Y/n..." Cairo whispered, not being able to say anything else right now anymore. "I... I'm...." Cairo stopped talking for a moment. The moment she managed to get enough air she said "I... I'm close y/n..." Cairo whispered once again, feeling her peak so close right now as her words are growing quieter and quieter now.

Cairo grew silent and couldn't say anything anymore. She could feel her mind going blank right now as she felt her orgasm coming over her now. She felt all of the sensations inside of her grow so intense and beautiful, she felt like she was gonna explode right now. She couldn't get a word out right now... but she didn't need to anymore. Cairo felt her whole body shaking and trembling right now. She arched her back. Only your name on her mind. She moaned, calling out your name “y/n…” she groaned and felt her chest rising up and down like crazy.

You felt how she tightened around your fingers. Her cum dripping down your knuckles, covered your hand in it.

You slowed your pace, breathing heavy against her neck while riding out her orgasm before you pulled out your fingers slowly.

As soon as you did that, you rested your forehead on Cairos. Both of you breathing in heavy the air of each other. Cairo moved her hands around your back. Feeling the scars under her hands, caressing them gently while kissing you softly on the lips.

Your breathing began to steady “Your mine now” you whispered, your lips brushing hers. Cairo couldn't help but smile a bit now while thinking about the fact that y/n finally said to her that she was only hers now. She loved every single part of this moment right now. "I'm yours now. I'll never let go of you now y/n." Cairo whispered while her body was calming down from her orgasm now, feeling the best she ever felt before. Cairo and you made out until both finally felt the need to take a rest in each other’s arms. Cairo herself felt so good with you next to her, with her fingers tangled in your hair, with the feeling of your body next to her. She felt safe in this moment with you by her side. She nuggled up into your body, placing a gentle kiss on your shoulder and couldn't help but close her eyes in this moment, as her body was also feeling tired from everything that you both had just done.

[libraryofloveletters]

chapter two: disaster and despair

Chalres Leclerc x Fem!Reader + Carlos Sainz Jr x Fem!Reader

Warnings: carlos isn't fucking around, charles is soooo oblivious, flirting, sexual tension, rupert and lorenzo are a bit sus of carlos's actions, monaco was good to charles for once, alcohol and the consumption of, clubbing, insta is for fuckboys and cheaters apparently, lying, cheating on established relationship, allusions to smut and a bit of rivalry from carlos's end.

Word Count: 3.4k

Author's Note: in honour of Carlos's win today, have the 2nd chapter :) this one's juicy, it's a bit fast paced I won't lie but I hope y'all like it :))

Call My Name Masterlist

---

Monaco; glamour and extravaganza are the first words in your mind.

To most people, Monaco was just a luxurious place to visit and to F1 fans, it's another track on the calendar but to Charles, it was home.

A proud Monegasque; born and raised.

When he asked you to join him for the race that weekend, you booked the next available flight out. Unfortunately for you, you weren't a native to Monaco like your darling lover, but now that you two were a couple, you found yourself there a lot more and you've grown to love the place.

It was race day, Charles's fingers interlocked with yours as you two headed into the paddock, the flashing cameras in your face, fans shouting for your boyfriend. You smiled, taking in all the craziness as Charles walked you into the direction of the Ferrari hospitality building.

You had barely stepped into the building when someone called out, "good morning love birds." Carlos smiles at the two of you, pulling Charles into a half hug when he grabs his hand.

Charles pulls away from his friend, giggling as he does most times; seems that Carlos has that effect on everyone, not just you.

Speaking of Carlos; his hand rests on your hip, smiling at you as he leans in to hug you. His large hand slides from your hip to your back, touching just where the cut out was in the back of your dress - something you're certain wasn't a mistake on his part.

"You look beautiful," he whispers to you before kissing your cheek quickly.

Charles thinks nothing of it, smiling at you two before his hand replaces Carlos'. "Ready ?" He asks you, and Carlos. The three of you head towards the garage for the boys to do their morning check.

You had wandered off while they were busy. Seeing that it's his home race, his mother and his brothers were there. You had joined them above the Ferrari garage for a bit, you finally got to chat with Pascale since you arrived in Monaco a few days ago. Charles had been on the go since you arrived, him being the star driver of the weekend - a little term you came up with for home race drivers. He dragged you along with him, not allowing you a moment of rest since.

Charles was starting P4 this weekend, a good position to be. Everyone knows that where you place in qualifying determines your whole race here; there are very few chances to overtake in Monaco, the track was too narrow and the corners were quick and tight.

You were certain you'd be on edge the entire time he was out there, you were every time but today, the pressure was unbearable.

Not only was this his home race but he was in a position to win or at least get onto the podium.

He'd do anything to get up on that podium - especially this weekend.

About an hour to lights out, Charles comes looking for you guys to let you know that he'll be getting ready for his race if you want to head down.

His mother says the garage makes her head spin, so she'll stay upstairs and you offer to keep her company, but she tells you to go ahead and join the boys.

Charles has just returned to the garage when you make it downstairs, he and his brothers were taking a picture together as the mechanics and engineers did their final checks. Lorenzo was the brother closest to where you stood, with Charles in the middle and Arthur to the other side.

"Come here," Lorenzo waves you over and you shake your head.

"I don't want to intrude."

"You're not," he says, leaning over to grab your arm. He pulls you to his side, his arm over your shoulder when your boyfriend looks over at you and smiles. "You're a part of the family, y/n."

Joris smiles, telling the four of you to get a little closer and he takes a picture.

Lorenzo and Arthur step out of the frame, letting Charles pull you into his side. Your arms wrapped around your boyfriend when you lean into his side. Charles drops his head, his cheek pressed to the top of your head and the two of you smile at the camera.

You lean up, your hand pressed to his cheek when you kiss him. "Good luck," you whispered to him and he smiled, his hand giving your wrist a squeeze.

"Thank you, amour."

"Be safe, okay?"

"Always," he nods, giving you another quick kiss before you let him go, watching as he finds Andrea to get ready for his race.

You reach for your phone but you realize you've left it upstairs with Pascale. Charles was busy with his race prep so you figured you can sneak away and get back before he leaves the garage.

You had barely made it down the hallway, about to turn the corner when someone grabs your arm. You look over your shoulder to find Carlos.

"Hi," you smiled, "everything okay?"

He nods, "I saw you and Charles over there," he nudges your shoulder, your cheeks red. "It was nothing, just a kiss." You brush him off, your arm pulled from his grasp.

"Well, if it's nothing, do I get one as well?"

"Get... what?"

Carlos's eyes meet yours, there's something wicked written across his face and you can't quite place his intentions as of yet. The next words out his mouth do it for him; "a kiss."

"What-" you pause, jaw hanging open slightly as you stare at your boyfriend's teammate. "No," you shook your head, "not like that at least." You chuckled, trying to brush him off.

He was one thing, if not insistent. "Then how?" He raises a brow, waiting for you to answer him.

You take a moment to gather your thoughts. You have three options; one, walk away and pretend like this never happened. Two, tell Charles that Carlos asked you for a kiss or three, kiss him.

You lean into the man, your hand wrapped around his bicep when you press a kiss to his cheek. Your red lipgloss leaves behind a sticky kiss shaped mark on his tanned skin.

"Good luck," you say to him, taking a step back before walking off.

The man smiles, watching as you disappear around the corner before returning to the garage. "Where'd you go?" was the first thing Rupert asked when he saw him appear again.

His friend holds his chin, turning him towards the light. "Is that lipgloss?" Rupert asks another question and Carlos swats the man's hand away.

"Stop being nosey."

--

Monaco was good to your boyfriend, he managed to move up one place on the grid and finish in P3 - it's not a win but it's a podium at home and he was over the moon about that.

Someone turns their camera to catch the sight of you and the Leclerc brothers on the pit fence, screaming and cheering for Charles as he crosses the finish line. All of you go running, waiting to see him when he gets out of the car.

Charles, as expected, comes running as soon as he jumps out, jumping into the sea of red, a million arms wrapped around their driver. He makes his way through the crowd, hugging his brothers before he finally makes it to you.

He wraps his arms around you and you smile, your hand holding his helmet before pressing a kiss to the side of it. "I'm so proud of you!" You tell him, his visor open so you can see the crinkles by his eyes, the man grinning before giving you another squeeze and letting go.

The podium was Lewis in P1, Max in P2 and Charles in P3. It was a good day to be the top three teams.

Your boyfriend's teammate, on the other hand, didn't have such a good race. On lap 31, they decided to call him into the pits at the last moment, he tried to get into the pit lane and Lando was coming in at the same time. Unfortunately, the two of them attempted to get into the pit lane at the same time and they had a collision. Both drivers were okay but it wasn't a shocker that at least one Ferrari had a DNF this weekend.

They were still Ferrari after all.

You can't possibly lie and say you didn't feel bad for Carlos, because you did, but Charles on podium at home outshines whatever Carlos was feeling at the moment, and whatever you were feeling towards him.

Despite his DNF, Carlos did come down and join the team as they watched the podium celebrations. You were towards the front with Lorenzo and Arthur as well as a few of Charles's mechanics. Charles had a big smile on his face as he looked towards the sea of red, towards his team, his family and his girlfriend.

You were pushed up against the barricade so you take a step back and you glance over your shoulder to make sure you weren't stepping on anyone, but you find that Carlos was standing behind you; of course he was.

As much as Charles might've been oblivious to the fact, you weren't.

Carlos was making sure his presence was known, that you knew he was right there.

You smile at him, turning your attention back to the podium as they hand out the trophies. Carlos' hand rests on your hip when he steps a bit closer, you're sure it was just for a moment to steady himself with all the pushing but then it stays there; firm and warm and large.

He squeezes your hip and you slowly take a step away from him; not because you didn't like the feeling because.. god, you knew you did but simply because you knew this was wrong.

A shoulder brushes against yours; Lorenzo looks to his left and sees the look on your face.

"Are you okay?" He asks, shifting to give you some more space.

You nod, "fine." You smiled, looking up at the podium, taking a photo of your boyfriend.

Lorenzo glances behind you to find his brother's teammate there. Carlos smiles at him, nodding towards the older Leclerc. Lorenzo mirrors the action. Carlos's hand had already slipped from your hip, right before Lorenzo turned back to see him there.

All of you are focused on the podium, the drivers covering each other in champagne and Charles turns towards the crowd, spraying the gold coloured liquid towards the sea of people.

---

The club was packed; as it always was in Monaco but especially on a race weekend.

Your boyfriend had his arm over your shoulder, the two of your swaying side to side as he shouted something to his brother in French.

Andrea, Arthur, Lorenzo, Joris and a few other friends of Charles had joined him in celebrating his podium finish.

Charles had also invited Carlos to join you guys at the club but he politely declined, saying that he was tired and that he hopes that you all have fun anyways. Your boyfriend nodded along with what his teammate said, on a high already and he made him promise to join him next time. Carlos assures him that he will, sending him on his way.

"I'm going to the bathroom," you tell Charles and he nods. "Be careful!" He shouts, letting you go as he dances his way over to his little brother.

You shake your head, smiling as you head towards the bathroom. You make a quick check of your hair and your makeup; it was boiling in there, people packed together and you felt as if you were melting.

The phone buzzes in your pocket as you make your way towards the bar. You ordered a drink, reaching for your phone to check what it was. There's a message from Instagram.

carlossainz55: How’s the club? 

You replied to him, it was innocent enough. 

youruser: Good! Wish you were here, you’d be having fun with us! 

carlossainz55: I wish you were here too. 

You paused when you reread the message a few times. 

youruser: What do you mean? 

You typed out quickly, waiting for his answer. It came just as quickly. 

carlossainz55: I see the way you look at me, y/n. I know you see how I look at you as well. You’re a smart girl. 

youruser: I am. 

It takes Carlos a few minutes to reply, you had washed down his previous comments with a shot of tequila.

carlossainz55: Hotel De Paris. Room 321 

youruser: What am I supposed to do with this? 

carlossainz55: Whatever you want. 

Leaning against the counter, it takes you a few moments to gather your thoughts. Someone calls for you, "miss?" The voice comes from behind you, the bartender has picked up your empty shot glass. "Anything else?"

"One more please," you smiled at him.

"Name? For the tab?"

"Leclerc," you smiled once more. The bartender fills another glass, the clear liquid spills over the brim of the small glass when he sets it down.

You pick it up, downing the shot. The tequila burns on the way down, Carlos's message replaying in your head over and over again. You find yourself walking in the direction of your boyfriend, hugging him from behind.

Charles turns, "you okay?" He asked, grinning at you. You nod, smiling at him. It was just after 3:30 in the morning and you were exhausted. Between race day and the partying, you were ready to head home.

"I think I'm gonna head back to yours," you tell him and he nods, "do you want me to come with you?"

"No no," you smiled, a hand on his chest when you kissed him. "You stay and have fun, I'll see you when you get home."

"Text me when you get home, then." He smiles, kissing you once again before you head down, walking out of the club.

You hail a cab, getting into the back and the man asks; "where to?"

It was quiet, the man glanced back to make sure you haven't fallen asleep back there. "Miss," he calls yet again, "where to ?"

If you were a good girlfriend, you would have given him Charles's address but you were young and foolish, you wouldn't be able to forgive yourself if you don't explore whatever this thing with Carlos could be.

Even if it's simply just a hello.

"Hotel De Paris, please." You tell him, picking at your nail polish when he drives off.

It's quiet, the man doesn't speak nor do you, simply thanking you when you pay him, tipping him a little extra as you were fighting with your own moral compass.

It's now 4am, the man at the front desk smiles at you as you pass by. You return the smile, stepping into the elevator. Charles would still be at the club for at least another 2 hours, you had time.

The 3rd floor button lights up when you press it.

This was wrong, you really shouldn't be here; ding. The elevator doors open and you step off of it. It takes all of you not to turn around and get back on it. There's a sign in front of you; 301 - 315 to the left, 316 - 325 to the right.

You turn to the right, counting the numbers as you passed them.

316 - 317- 318 - 319 - 320.

321.

Standing in front of the door; you still have a chance to get away but you don't. You knock on the wooden door and the sudden urge to throw up was all you could think of.

Maybe you can still get away.

Turn around, y/n. Run - run as fast as your feet can take you. You shouldn't be there.

It's too late, you don't turn fast enough and the door opens. Carlos smiles at you, leaning on the wooden door.

His shorts hung off his hips, minus a shirt and you'd say you weren't staring but you were. Eyes trailing over his bare body, counting the indents as you went lower. You'd never admit it to anyone but how you wished his shorts weren't in the way right now.

"Hi," you whisper, not even sure if the word came out of your mouth.

"You came," he says, smiling; there it is again, that mischievous look on his face.

You nod. "I did."

"Where is he?" He looks at you - he being Charles. You point behind you, as if he was there. "You know.. the club."

"Good," he smiles, stepping aside. "Are you going to stand out here all night or come in?"

You step past him, pushing your better judgment out of the window the moment the door shuts. You make it about half way into the room before you pause, turning around to face him.

"I'm really sorry about your race, you deserved to be up there too. Or at least be in the points."

Carlos shrugs, "that's life, corazón."

He steps closer to you and everything in your head is screaming; red flag!! run!! don't stay! go away! in big red, bold letters and yet, you stood across from the man.

"Is he expecting you anytime soon?" Carlos asks you, his hand cupping your jaw.

"I told him I would see him when he gets home. Why?"

"Then I have time," he pulls you flush against him.

You shouldn't. Wrong doesn't even begin to cover what was about to happen in this room. You shouldn't even be in this stupid room, with this stupidly handsome man.

Carlos's lips ghost over yours, ever so soft and you can't help it. You had a feeling - you promised yourself - this was never going to happen again and it might even ruin your relationship but god, how you wanted him.

"We can't," your hand wraps around his wrist.

He nods, "I know.. but you want to."

"I do."

"Then that's enough."

When Carlos kissed you, it's like nothing you had ever experienced before. You had never been kissed like that in your life; it was drawing, like he had a hold over you, kept pulling you back in until you had nothing left to give.

And frankly, you'd give him anything he wanted.

Everything about him was intoxicating. From the taste of his lips to the stubble on his cheeks scratching against yours. You needed him in a way that was indescribable.

Carlos wasn't sure what came over him.. well, he knew exactly what it was.

He wanted you to be his and even if it took a hundred years, you'd be his. He'd make sure of it.

You're everything he could have ever wanted. Your hands are everywhere, feeling all over him and he didn't care if your mouth was already on his, he wanted more. He wanted everything you could give him and he'd take it.

Carlos was greedy in that way. He doesn't stop to think how this would hurt you or your relationship.

In a some sort of fucked up way, he thought this was fair.

Charles gets to be the star boy for the team and he couldn't deny it longer. As much as he smiles and laughs with the media, everyone, including him, knows Charles will always be the focus of the team.

He wasn't going to let him have you as well.

He didn't care if he never won another race in his life; you were his prize.

Your purse tossed on the floor when he picks you up, your legs wrapped around him as Carlos gets on the bed with you.

You hadn't noticed that your phone fell out of your purse, too caught up with the man in front of you to notice your phone buzzing on the floor.

From Charles: did you get home okay?

--

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[sol-consort]

Do you see Wrex and shepard together? Because I low-key think they have like sexual chemistry

OH BOY DO I!

It starts as enemies to firends to lovers, but then quickly spirals into forbidden love territory once he acquires the throne.

Remember that first meeting scene in ME1?

When the Citadel C-sec were too intimidated by Wrex to even dare and hold him down? The krogan assumes all humans tend to cower in front of someone his size.

How Shepard literally marches in there, calls him by his first name, then offers to shake his hand so casually? Full of confidence and poise? Not afraid to meet his eyes.

Yeah, that scene? Every single pixel is flooded with sexual and romantic tension.

Both Paragon and Renegade Shepard have the best chemistry with Wrex full stop.

The scene after it where Wrex deliberately disobeys Paragon Shep command to spare this guy's life, shooting him in the head because "he had a contract" Testing the limit to what this human allows him to get away with, pushing boundaries.

How Shep immediately snaps at him, addressing him down as a commander still despite him disrespecting your authority.

Showing him that this isn't the way things work around here, you won't tolerate this act from him a second time. He already used his one chance, and he better be on his best behaviour going forward.

Genuinely catching Wrex off-guard, he never expected the humans to have barks, let alone the power to follow it with bite. A part of him is even a little ashamed of his action, but he'd rather die than apologise to a human he just met, so he just gives a vague promise not to do it again.

Which might seem small, but to a contractual killer krogan who never trusted a single soul ever since he left his planet young, it's so much more.

The first building blocks to the long bridge of trust being established between them was set by Wrex.

And if you finish his target alone without bringing him along, what does Wrex do? He pays you. He hands you what he views as your rightful share for aiding with his job.

It's established early on that Wrex has honour, he has pride and more self-awareness that anyone would ever expect of him. He keeps his temper in control, is more cunning and logical than people expect of a "krogan"

How he doesn't hesitate to leave a situation when something feels off, his intuition and gut feeling had saved his life countless times.

-

You keep trying to have small talks with him whenever you come down to the dock of your ship, and he just doesn't understand why.

What are your intentions? Is it just curiosity from him being the first Korgan you see? Or are you just digging for information out of mistrust, doubting his abilities as a capable mercenary.

He always hated the employers who kept peering over his shoulders, poking their nose into things that do not concer them.

The job you assigned him will get done, stop bothering him.

In fact, that's why he shares the story about his previous employers. The various times he was ruthless just to get a job done, even when he had to face a friend in combat. Painting himself as a hardened soul.

...so why are you looking at him like that?

See? He has no heart, in fact, despite the three pumping in his chest. So are you convinced yet?

Yes, he is the epitome of the big, strong scary Korgan. The same one all the other species warned you so much about.

Instead of being impressed, intimidated, or both. You look at him with concern, as if he's a bird with broken wings that fell into your palm.

You inquire about his homeplanet.

The usual bitterness that threaten to come out in a pile upwards his throat each time he retells this story...is less severe this time around. It's easier to get out, to go more into details around you.

You never interrupt him, you let him talk. Thoughtfully listening, only speaking when it's your turn.

He doesn't know what to say.

By the end, you...apologise.

For someone to finally acknowledge the wrongs that have been done against his own kind, the injustice the krogans continue to suffer to this day.

A salarian would've gone into a long tangent about why it was a necessary evil, an asari would've offered faux pity before reminding him of the shiny statue in the citadel as if that makes up for the billions of krogan stillborns every year. A turian would've acted as this was a righteous punishment, that krogans should never be trusted until they prove they're capable of civility.

But you, human...Shepard, apologised.

Next time you stop by, he doesn't know why he even brings up the family crest. The rotten armour has been buzzing at the back of his mind like an annoying fly.

Wrex just blurted it out, his tongue loose around you for some reason, something he noticed but was still in denial about–either way, you make a promise to retrieve it.

He snorts.

Okay, he'll believe it when he sees it, Shep.

...

..

.

Standing there in front of the platinum wall locker, Wrex claws tremble as he opens the door. The urge to dislodge the thing from its hinges gnaws at the back of his mind, but he resists it. He knows better than to risk damaging the container of what's supposed to be a centuries old piece of armour.

He can't fucking believe his eyes.

It's there, in his hand. As ugly and vile smelling as he imagined.

And you by his side, you pawny little human who invaded this base like a storm, what a deadly force you are.

For the first time in decades, Wrex is hopeful again. Shepard reignited the flame of determination that always were inside him, the same snuffed out so cruelly by his father that forsaken day.

-

He followed you to Virmire, fully ready to risk his life for your cause. Not out of some obligation or contractual work, but because he believed in it, he believed in you, commander.

So why can't you extend him the same courtesy? Why must you oppose him when a cure is practically at the tip of his fingers?

It pains him as he raises the gun, the same sting he felt the day he drove the knife into his father's chest, the same despair wrangling his heart the day he put a bullet through his only friend's skull.

You expressed your sympathy for the tragedy of his people, didn't you? Or was it just a game of pretend to gain his trust?

So why can't you understand!

You of all people! He thought you would understand better than anyone.

But he doesn't pull the trigger.

You raise your gun, both of you know it won't do shit against him. A krogan shell can endure many bullets before any real damage is done, your squishy skin however? Yeah, not so much so.

No. The gun was akin to a flare instead. Gives a good reason for your crew to come running to your aid, for the salarian special unit to herald a shower of bullets upon him under the guise of "defending the human soldiers"

It will spell his doom in a much more painful way than the simple bullet he planned to plant directly into your heart ever could've.

The singular delicate human heart, how small it must be inside your chest. Yet this one fragile organ infected his three sturdy hearts with its determination.

How you risked your one heart for him that day you helped him retrieve his family crest.

Wrex...

is tried.

Beyond anything, he is so tried and sick of constantly fighting all the time.

He lowers his gun.

Yet the soldiers around you don't lower theirs until you do.

He tries not to let it get under his skin.

He fails.

Swallowing his pride, Wrex recollects the remains of his dignity. He must be in control of his emotions, never show too much fury, otherwise the world will weaponise it against him, claiming this is exactly why krogans don't deserve to join the rest of the galaxy yet.

They can choke on his dick.

-

There are just so many other scenes! I can go on forever.

The biggest one of them all, Grunt and how his whole mission could be interpreted as the best romance subplot between Wrex and Shepard.

Shep finds a Krogan teen who's going through puberty and what's your next course of action? Take him to his homeplanet and visit your ex the Krogan you may or may not have had a situationship with, the one you inspired to change his entire life, to go make a difference in the world.

Shep is Wrex's biggest muse, a nymph from the woods that flipped his world upside down. More deadly and dangerous than all the other warriors he has ever seen, as determined and inspiring as the greatest leaders. The krogan equivalent of a warrior angel.

And what does he do when this Valkyrie whom he thought had died walks back into his life so casually?

He is absolutely rejoiced. Couldn't give less of a shit about Cerberus or anything. Shepard is still Shepard, and you're here, alive, well, in front of him. As gorgeous as the day he lost you.

Not only that, but you came with a child. And you're asking him for guidance and help on raising him? Shepard, you shouldn't toy with a man's heart this much. Otherwise, he'll get the wrong impression.

Wrex practically treats Grunt as his own son and adopts him by the end of the mission. Not only that, but there is a big chance the "mating request" sent in for Shepard afterwards was actually Wrex's.

You get to play family for a day. Your son is just as powerful as you are. Wrex gets a glimpse of what it would've been like to raise him by your side, the life he could've had with Shepard.

But he cannot, he has obligations, ones he actually likes this time around. The krogans need a leader, the planet needs restoration. It's time to take responsibility for the state of his homeworld and not just chalk it up to "how krogans always were" Because that's simply not true.

The women remember it, their art, history, and beautiful complex culture. The men have gone senile with the war, Wrex needs to beat some sense into them. He'll drag all the clans with him to a better life whether they like it or not

And part of him...well. He knows you're the one he wants most, but is he the one you really want? Everyone in your crew is already drooling over you, Wrex is more dignified than to be just another obnoxious suiter chasing after you.

Not to mention, it's part of his job to get married to a krogan so the clans get another leader. You're a human, it will never work out. You have your own life, your own obligations and mission to save the galaxy.

It makes his dream to restore his planet pale in comparison, but Wrex isn't so fragile in his security that he'd get intimidated by that. If anything, it makes him yearn for you even more, admire you whole, impressed by your every achievements that outweigh his, rather than trying to dampen your blinding brightness.

Maybe, in the–hopefully near–future, your children and his can play together on this very same land. But instead of rubble, it will be grassy fields, you and Wrex taking a stroll in the gardens nearby while watching over both of your kids.

And for a moment, Wrex can close his eyes and pretend the ring pressing gainst his skin as he holds your hand, is a one that he gave you.

Would it be Wrex Shepard or would you prefer the Urdnot lastname?

Don't tell him.

He'd rather dream.

He earned it, after all that he sacrificed and everything gave in order to restore the glory to his people, he earned the right to dream.

[itsohh]

QWERTY Part 5

A/N: Female reader.

Summary: At Makarov's side, Price sees you for the first time since that night when you first kissed.

Word count: 1573

Warnings: None

AO3 Masterlist Part 4 Part 6

KASTOVIA 2023

Injuries healed. People learned how to live with grief. Buildings could be rebuilt. 

The evidence was right in front of you. Despite it all, you couldn't help but feel slightly hopeful when you looked around the airport. The damage you had done since the last time you were there was completely gone, save the plaque at the entrance in dedication to those who lost their lives. 

Unlike the rest of your group, you stayed rather close to Vladimir. Side by side the pair of you walked without a word- no words needed to be spoken. 

The only time you parted was when you both reached the security. You placed your phone, jewellery and watch on their tray before you walked through the metal detector without complaint. Vladimir was far quicker than you but you had plenty of time. 

You weren't obvious to the looks that were exchanged around you, there was simply no need for you to take part in them. 

After being cleared you started to put your jewellery back on alongside your watch. Your phone slipped into your pocket. Small clicks of your boots echoed ever so slightly as you walked, they were high by any means. Only a small added heel to the back that still allows you to be practical but fit your appearance.

When you found him Vladimir stood in front of the flight plan and you could see the little camera trained on him. He wanted people to know he was there, a little fuck you to those who tried to stop him. His clenched fist drew your attention and you could feel the tension in his shoulders when you placed a hand on one. It wasn't nerves though, rather pure anger. A seething hatred that could never be fulfilled. 

You looked towards the camera and to your surprise he took your hand on his shoulder and brought it up to his lips. The demonstration had your heart race but all for the wrong reasons. Was this a show of care? Or was he deliberately placing a target on your back? Was it an action of control? To make sure you were stuck by his side. You didn't know. 

Either way, you allowed the man and gave him a small smile before he let go of it and turned his back from the security camera.

—

UNKNOWN LOCATION 2023

They paused the video after it zoomed in on both you and Makarov. 

“Who's the girl?” Gaz asked and looked towards Laswell. There was a look in her eyes and she let out a breath. 

“From what we know someone in Inner Circle. Possible second in command. Ex SASR.”

“Australian?” Nik asked and she nodded. 

“From what we can tell. There was a case against her for dishonourable discharge but ultimately it was changed to honourable.”

“What happened?” Gaz asked. 

“She shot dead three of her squad members in deployment. The case was changed when evidence was found that they had been serial raping local civilians.”

“Fuck.” Soap swore out and Price’s eyes flashed from the picture to Laswell for a moment then back at the picture. 

“It was closed relatively quickly and brushed under the rug.”

“How’d she end up working for Makarov?” Nik asked. 

“We don't know. Aside from her military career, almost all information about her has been wiped.”

“Makarovs doing no doubt.” Ghost said. 

As they continued to talk Prices’s mind wandered through his mind, trying to figure out how exactly he recognised you. 

—

ENGLAND 2017

A laugh was shared between the two of you that was soon interrupted by the bartender. 

“Sorry guys we've gotta close up shop.”

You nodded to the bartender and started to collect yourself, mainly your bag that was on the counter next to you. When you glanced over to John he skulled the rest of his drink and left the glass on the bar. 

He followed you off the stools and out the door. John couldn't help but be surprised at your level of stability, you didn't stumble once. “Surprised you're still standing.” He finally spoke up and you turned around to look at him as you walked backwards. 

“You drank a lot more than I did.” He elaborated.

“Were you hoping I'd get drunk?” You raised a brow and he fished for a cigar from his pocket. You clicked your tongue. “Or are you just judging me?”

“Negative. I'm not here to pick and choose how much you drink. You're your own woman. Drink as much as you want. Just want to make sure you're safe.” 

The pair of you stared at each other for a moment before your teasing lips curled upwards.

“What do you think I was drinking?”

“Jack and coke?”

“Just coke.” Your eyes watched as he slipped the cigar between his lips and lit it. “No need to worry about me. You on the other hand… I did buy you a decent amount. If anyone is making sure someone is safe I think I should be looking after you.” Your voice was at first humorous but grew gentle. 

“I didn't drink much a couple of glasses won't do much to me.” 

You looked away and nodded. 

“Well in that case I shall let you go home. It was nice meeting you.” When you turned back you had a kind smile on your face and continued to walk. 

“You're not walking home are you?” He called out when you turned to start on your journey. 

“Home? No, but I am walking to the motel I'm staying at.” 

“Alone at night in this area?”

“Don't worry I can look after myself.” You smiled. 

“Let me drive you there, it will be a piece of mind that you get there safe.”

“Oh, so walking isn't okay but getting into a car with a man I've never met is?” You took a step towards him. 

“I'll walk with you then?” His eyes followed as you came closer.  

“I don't even know your name.”

“It's John.”

“Bit obvious for a fake name huh?” You cast your doubts at the man and he sucked on the end of the cigar. 

“Could show you ID if you like.” 

You took another couple of steps towards the man until you almost touched him. 

“ID’s can be faked.” Your voice was matter-of-fact. 

“If you don't want to, that's fine by me sweetheart.” 

You moved in closer after he took the cigar from his lips. The smoke escaped his parted lips and you replaced them with your own. One arm wrapped around your waist and he pulled you into him. His lips moved as if they were made for you. You both danced in unspoken sync until you suddenly pulled away. 

Guilt crossed your face and you looked away. Right away he could tell you regretted it. “Sorry I…”

“No need to apologise. Don't do anything you don't want to.”

Your eyes snapped back to him and you placed your palm on his chest. 

“Oh, I want to. I desperately want to but if I don't stop then I'm very much going to let you escort me to my room. And then I'll invite you up and then…” Your voice trailed off. “I don't think I've met a man that has understood me as much as you do. Which is the problem. If we had met any other time…” You closed your eyes and took a step back. 

“I have work tomorrow.” Finally you settled. 

“Let me take you out for dinner then.”

“No, I'm… I'm moving to another country. It's a big commitment to my new job. Just another reason it sucks I suppose.” Finally you looked up into his eyes. “You’re a good man John. I wish the best life for you.” You turned away and started to walk. 

“Let me make sure you’re safe!” He called after you got a few metres away but you waved a hand in the air and brushed him off with a laugh on your lips. 

—

UNKNOWN LOCATION 2023

“So Makarovs new girlfriend, is she much of a threat?” Soap asked and Price was finally brought from his memories. 

“That's the thing, we don't think she is new. I did some more digging.” Kate brought up a picture into view and Price folded his arms. “This is some of the recovered security footage from Kastovia airport.” The picture zoomed into a blurry still of your face, blood painted your EMT uniform and a handgun was secured in your hand. “In 2017.”

“Is that?” Soap swore under his breath. “Is that what I bloody think it is?”

“It is.” Price confirmed. “While we were out getting Makarov she was leading the attack on the airport wasn't she?” 

His mind raved from the soft kind expression in his memory to the hard stoic look in the images. Despite your appearance being almost exactly the same, it was like you were two different people. 

“If she's orchestrating as much as he is then we need to take her out of the picture at the same time.” Ghost said. 

“There's no way in hell he would have been able to plan all of this in such a short time or in prison. She's been doing his dirty work on the surface.” Soap realised. 

“We get to Makarov, we get to her.” Gaz pointed to the original picture. 

Nik smiled and spoke. “Let's get to Makarov then shall we?”

[undiscovered-horizon]

Hello Sofia! My name is Aleksandra! Just wanted to send a request of Zoro x reader where reader has just joined the crew she is a witch and very strong, sweet, but could be intense (in a good way) as well as mysterious everyone in the crew absolutely loves her but it takes time for Zoro to completely trust her so he keeps his eye on her causing them both to have some tension some days they are arguing over tiny situations some days they are sitting alone together laughing and smiling at one another with feelings building up that they have yet to understand even though they are confused with their feelings their connection runs deeply to the point it drives them insane everyone else in the crew see's this (Besides our dear Luffy.) They try to get them to open up but it's hopeless at times. I was thinking Zoro gets a deep cut during a fight and Reader helps him with his wound this is where they are able to share their feelings and once they deeply kiss they understand how they feel from there.

I hope this is a good one to do! Thank you!✨🌻✨

I would love to be tagged at!💜 @shewalksinanotherworld

This took a little bit longer and I have nothing to say for myself except that my executive function does not, in fact, function. Enjoy! @shewalksinanotherworld Enjoying my work? You can leave me a tip on Ko-Fi | Have a request?

"The way to a man's heart" - Zoro x Reader

[graphic descriptions of open wounds]

Somebody once said that love and hate are two sides of the same coin - a token of devotion. Like tides of two seas that create storms and whirlpools upon meeting, it is often impossible to determine where one ends and the other begins. Perhaps, these waters have never differed as they are two ends of one river. Both lovers and enemies alike make up the first row of the funeral cortege.

And just like those seas, no matter whether they are the same or two different bodies, Zoro and you seem to be ebbing and flowing across love and hate. Flipping the coin of dedication each day to see where your tense relationship will take you. Sometimes more than once a day, when mere hours separate passionate fights from merry laughter.

But speaking of turning tides and seamlessly flowing waters, wouldn't the seas know each other far too well? What constitutes oceans of hate was once the pond of love. Conversely, the waters of affection had once flown as tides of enmity. If the answer is yes, it would explain quite a lot about the rather inexplicable connection you share with the swordsman. Sometimes not a word has to be spoken but a fleeting gaze exchange for either of you to know perfectly well what the other has on their mind.

To be fair, it's hard for you to put your finger on the why - Why are you and Zoro so strange with each other? The most plausible explanation would probably be his stubborn distrust. He's a very guarded person which, by itself, is not unfathomable considering his journey and livelihood. But it is absolutely tedious when he sticks to his guns against all available evidence. Weeks went by when Zoro was the only crewmember who perceived you in different shades of suspicion, even after witnessing you put your life on the line for your mutual friends. His stubbornness was frustrating, so you gave him as good as you got and well... Here we are, wading in the murky waters of passion, both pleasant and adverse.

However, you'll be wading much different waters, those flowing in the Styx River, if you don't escape now. The Indigo Cross pirates are a little too close behind you. You can almost feel their breaths on your neck as they scream about revenge, bloodshed and defending their captain's honour. Yes, about that... It wasn't exactly Luffy's fault that the man he told to apologize to the tavern waitress was the world's most narcissistic pirate. Alas, the damage is done and so is your chance at a peaceful shore leave.

The Merry Go is but a few meters away. You just have to get to the gangway and run up the stairs so fast your mother would go bald from stress. Just two things, right?

Your foot gets caught the between rotting planks of the pier. The unforeseen obstacle in your escape startles you, giving you barely any time to shield your face from the painful impact of the ground.

"Shit!" you groan to yourself, yanking your foot.

Zoro yells out your name. In long strides, he catches up with you. He manages to rip away one of the mould-covered planks. Despite your foot being set free, the man lifts you to stand on your own.

"You go, I'll hold them back," he orders you as he nudges you in the direction of the ship. Before you can defy him, Zoro is already running towards the oncoming wave of looking-for-a-scrap pirates.

Time seems to slow down as you watch a spear, its polished head shining in the sunlight, fly through the air and pierce Zoro's chest. He stumbles backwards and falls on one knee. With a roar of agony, the swordsman grabs the long shaft of the weapon. A loud snap fills the air as he breaks the wood off. Then, like a phoenix rising from the ashes,, Zoro stands up. Although his legs tremble slightly, he still lifts his swords and fights off the Indigo pirates. Some seem to drop their weapons in surrender, seeing that not even death can grasp this demon of a man.

You want to call for him but Sanji firmly grabs your arm and pulls you on board. "Come on, he can handle himself."

Having hidden on the lower deck, you're not sure what happened on the shore and onboard the ship until you saw none other but Roronoa Zoro, stumbling down the stairs and almost falling on the floor. Luffy, Usopp and even Sanji yell and nag at him to get his wound looked at while Nami keeps calling him different variations of "stupid" but Zoro only curses at them and tells a less savoury "Leave me alone".

Maybe thirty minutes pass by until the emotions die down or are at least well hidden. Your four friends sit around the kitchen, all strangely silent. They all give you a curious look when you let out a heavy sigh and march towards Zoro's room. He's going to die one day, obviously, but it's not going to be today. And definitely not because he put your safety before his own. What kind of rom-com death would that be?

Zoro is facing you with his back when you swing the door open without even knocking first. You seem to have interrupted his rather poor attempt at bandaging the hole in his chest. He looks over his shoulder, his face bearing an expression of annoyance.

"What do you want?"

You toss a handful of medical supplies on top of the chest with his belongings. The fresh dressings, a small bottle of alcohol, a needle and a thread tell quite the story, lying next to the bloodied head of a spear with splinters coming out of where the long shaft should be. It's still hardly believable what he did back there.

"When you get an infection, you green-haired idiot," you speak with your hands crossed on your chest. It's clear as day - you're pissed off, "it will be Sanji spoon-feeding you. I'm sure you'll be having the time of your life then."

Your sarcastic remark doesn't seem to phase him. The wrinkle between Zoro's eyebrows only gets deeper.

"I'm fine. I've been worse," he says with an exasperated sigh. "Just piss off," the man groans in a low voice.

Maybe if he wasn't already injured, you'd punch him straight in the jaw. "Stop being a stubborn ass," you raise your voice, "and let me help you."

Zoro rolls his eyes dramatically. Making a show of his discontentment, he sits on the edge of his hammock. If he was just a few yours younger maybe he'd stomp his feet too, as befits a toddler he seems to have chosen to act like.

Minutes go by in silence as you clean the deep would and do your best suturing it. Meanwhile, Zoro doesn't even wince. He's perfectly calm and collected, almost as though his soul has left his body and gone for a stroll.

By the looks of it, you haven't stitched wounds many times and Sanji would probably be better at this, with his experienced hands and all, but that would require Zoro to be either already dead or at least unconscious. There's no other way he'd willingly let those slimy fingers touch him.

“They say that the way to a man’s heart is through his stomach," you say under your breath as you tighten the knot on the last suture. The last thing you want is the deep wound reopening. "I guess going through his ribs works too.”

"A lot more efficient." The swordsman chuckles but his laughter soon turns into winces and groans. Although he's not going to bleed to death anymore, the rather large hole in his chest is this painful and not something to trifle with.

"A spear nearly pierced right through you and you're having a laugh?" You nod with approval. He's impressed you, you have to give him that. "Roronoa Zoro, you command respect."

A silence falls between you again as you put back the collection of medical supplies you've managed to find aboard. Little do you know, Zoro's watchful gaze doesn't leave you. He seems to be intensely thinking about something.

"Thanks," he finally spits out. "I would rather die than let Sanji spoon-feed me."

It's not the wraith of death that scared him into letting you patch him up - it was the cook in a striped shirt. Really? Roronoa Zoro is a lot of things but "ordinary" or "predictable" is not one of them.

You burst into laughter. "Unfortunately," you manage to breathe out, "I would have loved to see that."

He shakes his head in disapproval but his lips are curved into a grin. "I hate you."

"No, you don't, big guy," you answer as you playfully poke his arm. It's still covered in dried blood and sweat.

His dark eyes stare into yours with a strange glint to them. It's almost like amusement but not entirely - it's deeper, much deeper. "Yeah, I don't," he whispers.

Everything happens so fast: Zoro grabs your neck and pulls you flush against himself, crashing his lips against yours. Involuntarily you yelp, which elicits a chuckle from the man. On one hand, you're surprised with his sudden declaration of passion but on the other hand, you're relieved. Of course, you have joked that Zoro must be in love with you to be so annoying most of the time but rarely did you consider it a real possibility. He just... didn't seem like a man who loves, only desires. But now, when he's kissing you so desperately and eagerly, you feel stupid for ever thinking such thoughts. As his hand roams your body, you begin to wonder whether all of this has always been this funny - every one of your friends already knew the feelings you had for each other, except the two of you. Something so obvious it's easily overlooked.

It makes you think that he was, actually, scared of losing but not his life. He was scared of losing someone.

[elficially-done-with-life]

Caring For You

Pairing: Lindir x reader

Summary: Lindir is embarrassed because he sings out of tune and seeks you out for comfort.

Warnings: sexual content (Lindir with a mommy kink)

A/N: I used the word Nana which, if I am not mistaken, is the word for mother/mommy in sindarin.

♡♡♡♡♡♡♡

♡♡♡♡♡♡♡

Lindir always sought you out when everything became too much for him.

You looked after the flowers in the garden of Imladris and were therefore mostly outside.

When you saw Lindir during your working hours, it was usually in the company of Elrond, which is why it always worried you when he came without him.

On this day, however, you were extremely worried. Not only did he hurry towards you alone, but he also had a look on his face that broke your heart. Your Lindir looked like he was about to burst into tears.

When he reached you, you didn't hesitate to pull him tightly into your arms. As soon as you had him pressed against you, he let out a quiet sob.

"Shhh," you said softly as you stroked his back with your hand. "What is troubling you, Meleth?"

"Lord Elrond asked me to sing for him and his guests at dinner. It was an honour, only I sang out of tune. "He buried his face in your shoulder, "Everyone, except Elrond, laughed. He finally silenced them, but I just ran away- I was to ashamed to stay longer."

You nodded. "And that is okay. If you are not comfortable, you should not stay." you whispered softly. "My dear Lindir, you did nothing wrong. The others are idiots. None of them can sing as well as my lovely husband."

But he only buried his face deeper into your shoulder.

"Come on," you whispered gently, breaking away from him a little, "let us go to our rooms for today."

He nodded slightly as you gently took his hand and pulled him with you.

Once in your room, you laid Lindir on his back on the bed while you cuddled up next to him and began to stroke his hair and look gently into his eyes. "My dear, sweet Lindir," you whispered softly and gave him a kiss on the forehead. "I'm sure it is all right."

But his eyes wandered to the side and away from yours. Worried, you stroked his cheek. "What is wrong? What do you need?"

His cheeks turned red and you knew immediately what he was going to say. "Nana?"

"Do you want Nana to take care of you?" you asked gently and gave him another kiss on the forehead while he nodded weakly. "Nana will make sure that everything will be fine," you whispered.

You gently ran your hand through his soft hair, your fingertips grazing his scalp and he trembled beneath your touch. Lindir let out a soft whimper, his eyes filled with a vulnerability that he only showed when you two were alone.

You leaned in closer, your lips a breath away from his. Your breath mingled with his. You could feel his heart racing, matching the rhythm of your own.

"Nana is going to make you feel better," you whispered softly, your voice filled with tenderness. He nodded, his cheeks still bright red. He was obviously unable to say anything.

You leaned in closer, your lips finally meeting his in a sweet and tender kiss. His lips were soft and warm, a perfect fit against your own.

As you deepened the kiss, you could feel the tension building within you.

Your hands roamed across his body, caressing his smooth skin. His breath hitched as your fingertips traced along his inner thigh, making him shiver.

You pulled away, your gaze locked with his. You could see the need burning in his eyes, his need for you to take care of him.

You leaned in again, this time trailing soft kisses down his neck, leaving a trail of goosebumps in their wake. "Nana." he softly moaned.

His soft whimpers became more frequent, as he sought your touch. With every brush of your fingers, the whimpers grew more desperate.

You reached down, your hands finding their way beneath his clothing. You carefully teased him, your fingertips tracing the outline of his arousal. He let out a soft gasp, his eyes rolling back in pleasure. His face was so heated, that there was no spot that wasn't red left.

As you slowly stroked him, he arched his back, pressing himself closer to you. His grip on your robes tightend, his fingers trying desperately to hold on to you.

You leaned in, your lips once again met Lindirs and stifled another whimper that escaped his mouth.

As you continued to move you hand, his whimpers turned into loud groans, his breathing becoming erratic.

Finally, Lindir reached his peak, his body tensing and shaking with pleasure. You watched his face, his eyes filled with pleasure. His voice turned into cries of pleasure, as his release washed over him.

"Nana!" he softly gasped.

You held him close, his soft body pressed against yours.

"Did I do well, Nana?" he asked, still out of breath. His eyes were only half open.

You stroked his cheek and gave him a gentle kiss on the forehead. "My perfect boy, of course you did a good job. Nana is really proud of you."

Lindir sighed relaxed, closed his eyes and lost himself in your warmth.