#they were the best (and hardest) options yet
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mx-paint · 10 months ago
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azrielbrainrot · 23 days ago
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Baby, You Know That I Miss You
Pairing: Band Member!Azriel x F!Reader
Kinktober 2024: Phone Sex, Guided Masturbation
Description: You miss your boyfriend terribly when you go visit your parents during break. Luckily, he's more than willing to help.
Warnings: Smut, phone sex, guided masturbation, dirty talk
Word Count: ~2k
Rating: 18+ MDNI
Notes: This story is part of my Band AU as well as Kinktober, but you don't have to read their other stories to enjoy this one since it's basically all smut! Also I'm not too sure if this is all that good but we move. Hope you enjoy!
Band AU Masterlist
Kinktober 2024 Masterlist
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“I didn't know I was going to be so busy all day,” you say with a sigh, happy that you finally get to relax in the comfort of your own bed, “but at least I get to listen to your voice.”
You were a bit sad that you missed a performance, it was the first one you didn't attend since you became official, but because of it your schedules ended up aligning perfectly and you got to talk to him for a while before going to sleep, when you texted him this morning you thought you wouldn't be able to.
Coming home for break, after what happened the last time you were here had been a bit nerve wracking. You didn't know if you would have to run into Eleanor or Parker, and you didn't know how you would react if you did. Luckily, you hadn't seen them, and you found that when your mother mentioned them you didn't really feel anything besides some mild resentment at the way you were treated, all the anger and sadness that just their names evoked a couple months ago had mostly subsided.
If you were being completely honest, forgetting about your childhood best friend had been a lot easier than you thought possible. You were sure the fact that she hurt you so badly that there wouldn't be any possible way to salvage your relationship helped, since it made forgetting her truly the only option, but most of all you had to thank Azriel and your friends, old and new, for it.
The hardest part of being home for these last two weeks ended up being away from Azriel. Yours is still a relatively new relationship, although sometimes it felt like you had known him your entire life, and so it was hard to not be able to see him for so long when you were spending almost all of your free time together. You missed sleeping in his arms, missed watching him and the boys practice, missed the dates at the small café by his apartment you'd found together, the way he held your hand when you went on walks and, Gods, you missed his touch.
“Want me to tell you a story?”
“Anything is fine as long as it's coming from you,” you admit, his deep whispered voice enough to send a gentle warmth traveling through your veins. Azriel hums, something obviously on his mind. “What?”
“You always liked the sound of my voice,” he muses, letting the words flow from his lips slowly but confidently, knowing it would get a reaction out of you and prove his point.
“Well, yes but that's normal.” You try to keep an indifferent tone, but you know he can easily hear through it. “You're a singer for a reason.”
“We both know it's not just that,” he murmurs, and you can almost hear the smirk growing on his lips, can picture the confident yet alluringly attractive look that always falls over his face when he knows he's affecting you, one that unfortunately only makes it worse. You find yourself squeezing your thighs together, wishing he was right next to you instead of in a different city, so you could kiss that smirk off his lips and let him show you all the different ways he can affect you.
“Don't do that,” you breathe out, almost pleadingly, every hint of sleepiness escaping your body.
“Do what, princess?”
“That,” you say a bit too loudly, calming down and lowering your voice when you add, “not when I'm three hours away.”
Azriel sighs, a heavy sound coming from deep in his chest, needing to feel your hands on him as much as you do. If you were in your apartment instead of at your parent's house, you might have gotten out of bed and made your way to his house with how needy you were starting to feel.
“It's a shame that I can't sit you on my lap right now and whisper every dirty little thing I want to do in your ear.” Truly a shame, you think as you press your legs together. “But we can try something else.”
“Try what?”
“Just want you to do as I say,” he explains, desire dripping on every word. You bite your lip, his intentions now crystal clear in your mind. This wasn't something you had ever done or even considered, but you feel a shiver of excitement run down your spine at just the thought. “Can you do that for me?”
“Yes,” you breathe out, heart beating wildly behind your ribcage as you hear the rustle of sheets through the speaker.
“Are you wearing my shirt?”
You let out a soft chuckle before answering unashamedly, “Yes.” You had taken to stealing some of his shirts to sleep or wear around your house before you even started dating, though stealing was probably the wrong choice of words seeing as he either let you or even gave you some of them himself. His shirts were not only comfortable but they also smelled like him so they quickly replaced your own old shirts you used to wear to sleep before.
Azriel lets out a hum, one that sounds more like a moan, probably lost in the thought of you touching yourself while wearing his shirt before he gathers himself and starts, “Want you to run your hand over your stomach, feel how warm and soft your skin is.” Your hands follow his commands easily, mimicking the way he caresses your skin instinctively, desire growing within you with every brush of your fingers.
“Now push your panties to the side,” he continued, voice getting deeper as he spoke through a clenched jaw, his own hand likely occupied as well, “tell me what you find.”
You knew what you'd find even before your hand traveled down to do as he said, a sigh escaping you all the same when your fingers dive between your folds, feeling just how soaked you were, a string connecting them to your cunt when you pull away.
“Are you wet for me?” The pleasure was obvious in his voice, and you had no doubt in your mind that he was stroking his cock as he spoke, the thought making your cunt clench around nothing.
“Yes,” you breathe out, nodding along even though he can't see you, swirling your fingers around and making a mess of yourself, careful to avoid your clit and entrance no matter how bad you need to take some of the edge off, waiting for him.
“Good,” he moans out, “Fuck, you're so good to me.”
If you closed your eyes, you could picture him laying on his bed, sheets thrown off his body and underwear long since discarded to the side, hand stroking his thick cock slowly, moving up and down as he also imagined what you looked like as you followed his orders, and wished it was your hand instead of his own.
“Now take your panties off,” he says after a moment, waiting patiently as he hears you shimmy them off your legs, sighing as you spread your thighs and bend your knee before letting him know he could continue. “Take two of your fingers into your mouth.”
“Azriel-”
“Need you to get them nice and wet for me.”
A whimper escapes you as memories of him saying these exact words rush into your mind. He loved seeing your mouth stuffed with his fingers, your tongue swirling around them as you looked up at him through your eyelashes. You almost tell him you didn't need to get them any wetter, your cunt was quite literally dripping, but you do as he says anyway, tasting yourself on your own fingers, pretending they were his instead, making a show of sucking on them and pulling them out with a pop just so you could hear the groan he lets out, a tremble running through your body at the delicious sound.
“Done?”
“Yeah,” you muse, entirely too proud of yourself for managing to get under his skin so easily.
“Alright,” he rasps, “Now roll them around your clit slowly, pretend they're mine.” You can't help the whimper of his name, your fingers circling your clit just like he said, closing your eyes and pretending it was his rough fingers instead of yours.
“Good girl,” he chuckles, “don't even gotta tell you to moan my name.”
“I need to be quiet though,” you remind him, remind yourself. If it was simply your roommate in the room down the hall it would only be a bit embarrassing, but it's your parents instead and them hearing you would be nothing short of mortifying.
“Such a shame,” he muses, the smirk almost audible on his voice. “You always sound so pretty for me, saying my name in that sweet breathy, fucked out voice of yours.”
“Azriel,” you whine, putting more pressure behind your fingers, - you really didn't think you needed much more to cum, especially if he kept whispering in your ear like that, - breathy, quiet moans pushing past your lips despite your warning.
“Like that,” he lets out between pants, fist tightening around his cock as well, “Just like that.”
“Keep talking, Az,” you murmur, your heart stuttering in your chest with every harsh breath you hear through the speaker, wanting to hear it in his voice. “You sound pretty too.”
Azriel only hums, staying quiet for a moment longer before letting out a groan. You hear his head knock softly against his headboard as he leans back, and briefly wonder if he could hear the sinful noises your cunt was making every time your fingers moved.
“Fuck, princess. You have no idea how much I wish I could taste you right now.” You did actually, you were burning with the same need. “Wanna bury my face in that sweet pussy of yours, make you cum on my tongue over and over again until you're all I can taste.”
The moan that pushes past your lips is entirely too loud for the quietness in your house, but you can't help it as the picture he paints assaults your mind. You're reminded of the feeling of his tongue against you, lapping up at your cunt until you're shaking with pleasure under him. Gods, you couldn't wait until you saw him again next weekend.
“Wanna taste you too,” you confess, speeding up your movements, mouth watering at the thought.
“Yeah?”
“Yeah.”
“Think I could cum just thinking about you choking on my cock, trying to take all of me down that tight throat of yours.” Closing your eyes and biting your lip, you do your best to keep as quiet as you can, his filthy words sinking into your bloodstream. It felt like you were on fire even though you had long since kicked your sheets off your body, - you didn't think it was possible to be this turned on alone in your room.
“Fuck,” he chuckles, a ridiculously attractive sound, “I think I might.”
“Azriel, I'm-”
“Close?”
“So close,” you pant, right on the edge, your hand moving incessantly, goosebumps running through your skin.
“I'm right there with you,” he murmurs, “Cum for me, princess. Let me hear you.”
You let yourself fall as soon as he finishes speaking, mouth falling open in a silent scream as you're hit with wave after wave of pleasure, a few whines of his name pushing past your lips despite your efforts to keep quiet, the praises he lets out going straight to your head.
Azriel cums not soon after, his own pants and muffled moans of your name echoing through the speaker as you're coming down, making you feel all tingly knowing he just came as hard as you did without you ever touching him, and still your name was on his lips. It's unfair the way this man makes you feel, even when he's so far away from you.
“I decided I'm going to lock us in your room when I get back,” you speak up after you take a deep breath, only half joking.
“Is that so?”
“Mhm,” you continue, wiping your hand on your discarded panties, cringing softly at the feeling, knowing you have to get up and clean yourself up properly. “You're mine for the entire weekend.”
“You can lock us in for as long as you like,” he murmurs, “I'm all yours.”
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everythingisromant1c · 1 month ago
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p1: chemistry read w/ co-star!james
co-star!james potter x actress!reader
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summary: before filming can start, your director has to ofc find the perfect person to play your love interest, + what better way to do that than to have a chemistry read?
a/n: i will not pretend to know anything abt film/tv production so this is more than probably innaccurate 🙏 also this first one is not my best work but dw more drama will ensue. <33
full series - masterlist
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You'd wanted this job more than anything. You'd worked harder than anyone you knew to kickstart your acting career and knew this opportunity was just the way to do it. When your agent called you about an audition for the lead role in a new show titled 'South Bay'—a drama named after the L.A. region itself—and gave you a sample of the pilot script, saying you fell in love with it wouldn't be a stretch. And after those few months later when you'd received the call that you'd gotten the part, it was safe to say you were walking on clouds for weeks afterward.
Your amazing director Minerva had cast you first and foremost, knowing your role was key to the show's success, and you'd already built a strong relationship with her after just a few weeks of knowing her.
After casting you, she'd informed you that the show's next order of business was finding someone to play your character's—Cassidy's—love interest, Aaron. When she'd told you that initially, you didn't think anything of it. But when she told you they already had gone through the first round of auditions for the role and that it was time for the infamous chemistry reads, you had to try your hardest to stay completely calm.
Aside from the fact that you'd soon be meeting the person you'd have to spend hours working with every day for God knows how many months, you also knew that the casting directors were going to be looking extra careful at the romantic chemistry you were supposed to have with the actors they brought in. You willed yourself not to get worked up when the morning came for the chemistry reads with the men auditioning for Aaron, and reminded yourself that your role in the show was already secured. Yet, for some reason, you were still on edge.
Luckily, the casting directors had narrowed down their options from the hundreds of actors who had come to audition for the role of Aaron originally to just a handful, making your job much easier. By the time noon came around, you'd already read from the script with three different candidates.
Just as you'd expected, they each had done a close-to-perfect job in their auditions. Your personal favorite was the second actor you'd read lines with, a sandy-haired guy named Remus who you thought was a really nice person as well as actor. It was important to you that the person you were going to have to pretend to be romantically interested in was a person you at least liked, and it was all too easy to imagine working with someone like Remus.
You'd expressed your thoughts to Minerva when she'd asked for them, and she nodded in agreement—a good sign—before the two casting directors beside her were calling for her attention.
"This next one, Minerva," cooed the curly-haired woman you knew as Poppy from next to her, "we think you're going to like."
"Am I?" she asked, lips curling up.
"Oh yes. When we saw him we knew right away we had to bring him in for the chemistry reading." Poppy nodded to you. "He looks promising. And he certainly has the background; his parents are Euphemia and Fleamonet Potter."
The other casting director hummed in agreement, not hiding their impressed and widened eyes. "Not to mention, he has that accent."
You had to fight your expression from turning sour. A Potter? If there was one thing you didn't appreciate in the world of acting, it was nepotism. After working so hard and starting from the ground up to get your acting career where it currently was, the last thing you wanted was to have to see your director swoon over some guy just because of who his parents were.
Nonetheless, you had faith in Minerva to pick the person who truly deserved the job. You watched her nod at the two women beside her, intrigued nonetheless. She waved a hand over to the security guard by the door in the corner of the room.
"Bring Potter in?"
The burly man nodded and exited the room briefly, and not a minute had gone by before he returned with the man you assumed was the young Potter in tow.
You subconsciously stood up straighter when you saw him, trying to push away any premeditated opinions of the man approaching. Brown curls and a genetically gifted bone structure you could see from feet away, he walked into the room confidently with reason. He immediately offered the security guard who had brought him into the room a handshake, and you watched as the tall brick wall of a man lit up with a bright smile from the gesture. Potter then rolled out more charming words of greeting to the director and casting directors, and you took the opportunity to scan him over in more detail.
With an interest you couldn't explain, you saw that he was strikingly handsome in the kind of way you'd expect the son of two celebrities to be; he was wearing a black t-shirt that clung to him flatteringly, with that sort of movie-star quality you knew audiences always swooned over. It didn't help that the moment he walked in you saw each of the directors turn to each other with raised brows and suggestive smiles that only widened when he introduced himself, charmingly posh British accent and all. You had to fight back from rolling your eyes at their reactions.
"James," greeted Poppy, standing up from her seat to give the man a handshake.
"Poppy," the man regarded, and you felt your eyebrows raise at the fact that he was already on a first-name basis with the head casting director.
She sat back down after a moment, keeping her attention on the man—James—as she spoke. "James, this is Minerva McGonagall, the Director of South Bay."
"I'm such an admirer of your work, Mrs. McGonagall. My parents took me to see your adaptation of Henry Shay's novel about three times when it first came out."
Your parents, you thought internally with some distaste; the famous actor and actress power couple. You had to stop yourself from shaking your head.
"Please, just Minerva," the director responded warmly, and you noted that she hadn't told any of the other actors to call her by her first name. "And thank you."
Poppy nodded happily before she held out an alarming hand towards you. "And let me introduce you to the wonderful actress who is going to be playing South Bay's leading lady Cassidy Ward."
You plastered on a smile and introduced yourself as plainly and confidently as you could, definitely not feeling suddenly conscious of your appearance as his warm-colored eyes raked over you.
James took that second to scan you over before realizing with a simmering feeling in the planes of his chest that there was something special about you he couldn't make out, something that had him wanting to greet you with more than a handshake. He refrained, thankfully, not saying anything after you finished introducing yourself for a second you felt was a beat too long, before scrambling to hold out a hand to you.
"I'm James. James Potter," he said as if you hadn't been already made aware of his last name. "It's an honor to get to meet you."
You didn't know why but his clear flattery only made you more uneasy of him, knowing it was something he'd probably gotten used to pulling out to impress whatever important or famous people he was busy meeting through all the connections he probably had.
You stopped yourself in your tracks; you were being unfair. You'd only known the guy, if you call it knowing him, for under a minute. Shaking off the odd feeling that was creeping its way into your stomach, you shook his held out hand with a polite nod, though that didn't the prying feeling inside you go away.
"Alright." Minerva clapped her hands together, looking between the two of you. "We're just going to do a read-through of scene number thirty-four, Episode three." She motioned towards the camera crew set up behind her, them shooting her a thumbs up.
She turned back around, looking between you and James pointedly. "Remember, your characters Cassidy and Aaron are the only two characters in the show who have known each other for longer than just a few months. They're close. That connection has to be visible, however you want to show that to us."
You didn't know why, but you felt uneasy. You nodded at Minerva regardless, seeing the supportive but anticipatory look behind her eyes as she glanced between you and the man now standing in front of you like you held the answers to all her problems.
James looked surprisingly calm and collected, like there was nothing in the world that could make the James Potter nervous. The more you looked at him and the confident set of his shoulders, the more you thought that was true.
Your director smiled. "Whenever you're both ready."
You nodded, taking a breath in before turning to James. "Where were you last night?"
You watched as James reacted to you in character, his strong brows pulling inwards. "What do you mean?"
You momentarily were taken aback by the almost effortless switch in his accent, but pushed the thought aside. "Last night. When everyone else was at Ryan's party. Where were you?"
He shrugged slightly. "I was in my dorm."
"Really? Because I knocked on your door and no one answered."
"I must've been sleeping. Why do want to know so badly?"
"I don't know, maybe because half the football team got caught last night breaking into the Dean's office."
"You don't think I did that, do you?"
You stared at him and then down at the floor. James—or Aaron, really—shook his head at you, his tone dropping. "I can't believe this."
Then he turned away from you and, as the script had told you to, you grabbed his wrist softly.
"Aaron, wait," you called, and the connection of your fingers to his arm had them tingling with a certain kind of teeming energy, though you didn't let it show on your face. "Of course I don't think you did it. I just don't know what to think. We're supposed to be best friends, yet you won't even tell me where you were."
James let a second pass before he said his next line, and it was like you could see his character's inner turmoil flickering through his mind restlessly when he said, "You want to know where I was, Cassidy?" You nodded. "I was talking with your Professor."
"Professor Brown?" you frowned. "Why?"
"I was trying to get him to let you submit your final thesis late."
"What? You know he told me I couldn't because-"
"Because of me." He paused dramatically, stern jaw working. "The only reason you missed the deadline was because you were helping me when I got too drunk to even make it up the stairs to my dorm."
"That's ... that's really nice of you, Aaron, but you know how Brown is-"
"He's letting you turn it in late for full credit."
"What?" You widened your eyes. "How did you ..."
"I told him how it was my fault you missed the deadline. And I told him about how good of a student you are, how you've never turned in anything late once, not even when we were in high school. But most importantly," he took a step closer to you to hold your hand, something you noted wasn't in the script but made your fingers flood with feeling. "I told him what a good person you were. How kind you are. Even to idiots like me who get black-out drunk during finals week."
You blinked at him, letting a smile overtake your face for a moment. "You really didn't have to."
"I did."
He squeezed your hand and, even if it was only acting, the way he was looking at you so meaningfully made something in your chest tighten excitedly. You didn't have to act when you shifted your gaze to the ground nervously. Why the hell were you nervous? "I don't know how the hell you got him to say yes."
"Well, I also have to wash his car for free for the next six months, but that's just a small detail."
You let your jaw drop. "I can't believe you'd do that for me."
"Of course I would." James took another step closer, still holding tight onto your hand and not breaking the immobilizing eye contact he'd established with you the whole while. "I'd do anything for you, Cassidy."
He nodded slowly, truly looking invested. Then, in a beat as short as a breath but one that must've felt like minutes to you as you stood there unmovingly, he leaned forward. All you could do was blink as his handsome—ugh, handsome—face neared yours before tilting itself to the right, where he left a soft but lingering kiss on your downstage cheek.
Then he pulled away again, the distance between you maybe a few inches smaller than before, before finally whispering, "Anything."
That definitely was not in the script. Your eyes blinked in an alarm that surely was no longer in character, but James looked unbothered, something you were finding was his natural state of being.
You felt your mouth go slightly dry at the intensity behind his eyes as he looked at you, but the last thing you could do was look away now, so you stayed rooted in your place in front of James as you waited for your signal to break character. Waited and waited; you felt dizzy.
"Cut!"
Minerva immediately clapped, the casting directors doing the same, and you felt like you could finally breathe as you dropped James's hand that was still holding yours and turned away from him, not sparing the man a second glance for nervous reasons you couldn't place. Maybe it was because of the fact that the feeling of his stupid lips was still lingering on your cheek.
Your director's tone was neutral when she said, "Great job, you two," though you watched as she turned passionately toward the two casting directors and they began speaking in hushed tones.
You shook your leg subtly as you waited, an antsy habit that you couldn't identify the current cause of, and you felt James lean down next to you, something that sent a nauseating feeling of déjà vu through you.
"Don't worry," he whispered lowly, taking your mannerisms as a sign of distress. He noted that even when frowning you looked extremely pretty, though at his words you left his lips your frown only deepened. "You did great."
You turned to him in confusion and some offense, trying to keep your voice hushed as you asked, "Excuse me?"
He shrugged a shoulder, eyes flicking over your figure for a split second that you definitely noticed. "You just looked tense, is all."
You stared at him blankly, not knowing what he could possibly be implying. Was he saying your acting looked tense? That you didn't look sure of yourself? Like you weren't already the lead and that he was the one auditioning? 
You fought the urge to say that maybe you looked tense because he'd just kissed you on the cheek out of nowhere, and stayed defiantly silent. When you didn't say anything back he let his lips turn up into a lopsided smile that you were sure must work on all the ladies, almost a smirk, and he nudged you in the shoulder a bit like you were old friends. Who was this guy?
Whatever you thought he meant by the statement, you didn't get to say anything back, because Minerva had pulled away from her conversation and was staring expectantly at the two of you. You did your best to soften your expression away from offended and back to neutral.
"Well," she said, turning to the man beside you. "Thank you, James, for coming in."
"Thank you," he responded, tipping his head politely. Then he took a step forward and shook each of the casting director's hands, and you watched with a foul taste in your mouth as their lips visibly fought against fond smiles.
When he turned back around, he held his hand out to you as well, and you regarded it for a moment before shaking it like you did at the start of his audition, though this time it was definitely against your will. His hand was warm and smooth, like he hadn't worked a day in his life, and you hated the fact that you even noted how it felt at all.
Like he knew you didn't enjoy his presence, he smiled at you with something knowing shining in his eyes that you hated before he took his leave, the door to the room shutting behind him.
"That was ..." began Poppy, shaking her head slowly, "Perfect. Just perfect."
You couldn't help the way your lips parted almost exhasperatedly. "Really?" You hoped you hadn't revealed your surprise in your tone.
"Yes," Minerva responded instead, also seeming to be in awe. "Wow." She gestured with her hands exuberantly. "It was like I could see the show coming to life right in front of me."
"Not to mention the chemistry between you two." Poppy tipped her head at you, smirking as she fanned herself. "I mean, wow."
You bit down on the inside of your cheek to keep from saying anything you'd regret. Your throat felt dry. If you heard one more 'wow' from any of their mouths in reference to James Potter again you thought you were going to lose it. You tried to keep the premonition out of your voice as you bravely asked, "So, do you think you're going to cast him?"
Minerva paused for a moment in thought before answering you. "I mean, he was the last actor we're considering for the role, and I think he was the best we've seen today." She looked between the two other casting directors who nodded agreeingly at her words. "But I'd like to know your thoughts."
You blinked at her. "My thoughts?"
"Well, yes," she answered plainly. "He's going to be playing your love interest. And I like to hear my actor's opinions."
You pursed your lips at her words, feeling flattered but also not knowing how you were feeling at the prospect of having to work with James all the time. Although, deep within you, something was nagging at you—something you absolutely did not like—and telling you your answer.
The truth was, the scene you acted out with James felt realer, had come to life more than it had with any of the other actors that day. Maybe it was because he'd taken such liberties with the role, sure, but regardless, he did a great job. The thought made you hate yourself when you finally took a breath in to speak.
"He ..." you began unsurely, and then sighed. "He was great. Really great."
"Perfect!" Minerva clapped her hands together again, and something in your stomach churned. "We'll make contact with him as soon as possible." Her eyes twinkled as she regarded you. "I can't wait to have you two leading South Bay. I have nothing but hope."
"And," Poppy added, "it'll be great for publicity having a Potter in our cast."
The two other directors at the table nodded and murmured in agreement, and you fought from sighing. You thought of the days you'd spend on set with James Potter, of all people, not only having to get along with him but connect with him, with someone who clearly thought they were above you, enough to reassure you when you had already gotten the lead role. And then you thought of what it would be like to release South Bay to the public, your first leading role, only for Potter's undeniably charming face to be the audience's main focus. It left a sour feeling in your mouth.
But it wasn't just that horrible premonition that annoyed you; you didn't know exactly what bugged you about him in particular but you knew it hadn't gone away with his formal handshake or well-practiced manners. In fact, that'd probably only worsened the feeling.
But there was nothing you could really do about it now. At least, not if you planned on keeping your job. You were a professional, you knew that. But that didn't mean it was going to be easy to maintain that title. You really did sigh then, and something rooted in your gut told you it was going to be a long year of shooting.
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remlionheart · 8 months ago
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Sex, Money, Feelings, Die (part two)
* ˚ ✦ MDNI ✦˚ *
*:・゚✧*:・゚✧ ask and you shall receive ~ you guys wanted more, so here it is! 𓆩♡𓆪 thank u so much for all the love on this ♡ i didn't expect my first shot at Chuuya to gain so much traction but i'm really glad it did (he's just soooo ♡‿♡ u know?) hope you like a good slowburn bc buckle up, heavy "we shouldn't be doing this" vibes, Chuuya would honestly be the most arrogant yet easy to break dom because of how badly he wants to please you and you can't convince me otherwise, porn with a plot, 5.6k words. this fic once again had me swooning and gnawing at the bars of my enclosure writing it so pls lemme know whatcha think, also big shoutout to @bratbby333 for helping me edit this ღ *:・゚✧*:・゚✧ ♡ here's part one if you're new here ♡
You stared at yourself in the bathroom mirror with a sigh, tugging at the neck of your shirt. It was late August, 90 degrees outside, and you were on day three of wearing a turtleneck.
You felt like you were attending a funeral in your black top, black heels, and black tennis skirt - but it was all you had left. You'd already worn your other patterned and pleated options earlier in the week. Already paired each stifling hot sweater with the nicest necklaces you had to make them look more business casual than walk-of-shame.
But no matter how nonchalant you'd tried to seem about your sudden change in wardrobe, it was impossible to ignore the curious stares you'd been getting. The suspicious glances from Akutagawa who just a few days ago could barely even look in your direction without tripping over his own feet. There was a palpable sense of skepticism that followed you and it only seemed to get worse with each high-collared shirt you wore.
You let out another sharp exhale, surveying yourself one last time before heading back to your office. You were busy trying to decide on which expletive you were going to spend the next 7 hours cross-stitching when you rounded the corner, a sudden rush of warmth spreading across your face as a pair of cerulean eyes locked with yours.
Out of all the looks you'd gotten recently, his were by far the hardest to avoid.
Time seemed to slow as you passed him. A subtle but taunting smirk pulling at the corner of his mouth while he continued his conversation with Mori. Something about his upcoming assignment in Osaka and how it'd require him to be gone for at least two weeks.
You disappeared into your office, closing the door behind you as you took a seat and diligently began working on a new project.
Your thread kit had become invaluable over the last few days. It wasn't just a way to pass time anymore - it was an escape. A tool you used to steer your thoughts away from the one place that they kept relentlessly trying to wander back to.
Since the announcement of his solo mission, there'd hardly been a chance for you to see Chuuya outside of the lingering glances you'd exchange in passing. Mori had been keeping close tabs on him, constantly barging in and out of his office to go over the details of his assignment. You tried to remind yourself that it was probably for the best. That the safest thing you could do was keep what had happened between the two of you a onetime fling and nothing more.
It hadn't mattered in the moment how careless you'd both been when you assumed that you'd never see him again, but now that your time here had been extended, you were quickly realizing how critical it was to keep your wits about you. Up until arriving at Port Mafia, you'd barely been skating by. Living off of a dwindling savings account and more often than not having to choose between dinner or rent.
The first check you received from Mori alone was more than you made all of last year working as a barista. You knew that this sort of opportunity would never come again. That it was absolutely fleeting and subject to change at any given moment, but that's what made keeping it for as long as you could so important. The money you were making now would put you through college. It would grant you a future that didn't involve debt. A sense of stability that you never would've had otherwise.
You had no choice but to lay low, for real this time.
You moved your tapestry needle with ease, adding small, strategically placed hearts around the words, "choke me" as you stretched out your legs with a yawn.
The coffee they had here wasn't nearly as good as the coffee you'd usually get from the cafe down the street, but you decided it was better than nothing as you set your cross-stitch pad on your desk and ventured down the hallway.
For as dangerous as this place was, there was still an odd allure of normalcy about it. There were mundane things like work meetings and fax machines and a breakroom that stayed stocked with beverages and snacks. If it weren't for the people that worked here, this truly would be just another business building in downtown Yokohama.
Your suede pumps tapped against the tile as you entered the breakroom, grabbing a k-cup out of the drawer and popping it into the machine before walking over to the cabinet. Despite the three-inch heels you were wearing, you still had to resort to using your tiptoes to reach the mug you wanted.
Your waist leaned into the counter, your arm reaching as high as it could go when your entire body suddenly froze.
You felt him before you heard him, a pair of gloved hands stealthily gripping around your hips. He rested his head on your shoulder, his breath sending chills along your skin as it broke through the barrier of your shirt and danced across the nape of your neck. He pulled you in closer, your ass meeting the firmness of his growing bulge while his palm slowly drifted up past your skirt and brushed against your inner thigh.
"You know you can't ignore me forever, right?" It was posed as a question but held the weight of a threat with the tantalizing way he touched you.
Your pulse raced, heat gathering at your center as he began to toy with the lacy outline of your underwear. His fingers were dangerously close to where you wanted them and where you knew they shouldn't be. Where they couldn't be if you wanted to stay here.
It was cruel irony that just last week it had been him who was trying so hard to keep himself together and now you were somehow the one struggling to maintain your composure. Failing to stop yourself from arching your back against him. Nearly whining when he abruptly pulled away from you and disappeared without another word.
You swallowed hard, looking down at yourself while you straightened out the hem of your skirt, your body still aching from the disappearance of his touch. It was only then that you realized just how fitting your outfit for today actually was.
You were attending a funeral, mourning the loss of your dignity that had died so easily at the hands of Chuuya Nakahara.
⋆ ˚。⋆୨୧˚
Two days had passed since your run-in with the redhead and you'd barely seen him since. You knew he was set to leave for Osaka tomorrow morning from the conversations you'd overheard while wandering the hall and you knew he wasn’t looking forward to it.
Maybe it would've been easier to not care about what he was doing if you weren't forced to be here every day, but there was no such thing as a break when working for Port Mafia. No weekends. No time off. Even as arguably their most useless member, you were still expected to show up day in and day out without complaint.
You didn't like to admit it, but his assignment had been weighing on you since you'd first found out about it. You didn't understand why he was being asked to go alone. Why he'd have to be there for two weeks. Why you even cared to begin with.
It'd been bleeding into everything you touched, your embroidery going from mindless patterns to things you couldn't possibly bring yourself to say out loud.
Your fingers moved with precision, adding dainty purple flowers around the words "please be safe" when the landline on your desk let out a shrill, unexpected ring.
You paused, staring at the phone with hesitant curiosity. You'd assumed up until now that it was a decorative prop. A piece of outdated technology to help add to the illusion that you had a real office rather than just an empty room to keep hidden away in for 9 hours. You were floored that it actually worked.
On the fourth ring, you finally caved, answering it with a reluctant, "Hello...?"
"You'd make a terrible receptionist, y'know that?"
You hated the smile that crept across your face as you twirled the phone cord around your index finger. "Don't you have anything better to do besides bother the help?"
"Nah, not really." You could hear the smirk in his voice. "Mori's finally out of my hair for a bit. Somethin' about needing to go check the status of one of our bases out in Tokyo so he should be gone the rest of the day."
"Hmm," You hummed, still fidgeting with the tangled wire. "Guess you'll have plenty of time to clean your office before you leave then."
He let out a semblance of a laugh, his tone still riddled with salacious arrogance as he said, "Get your ass in here." and hung up.
You drew in a shallow breath, mentally kicking yourself yet again for how little self-control you had as you stood up and made your way down the hall. Your skin had just healed from the marks he'd left on you and here you were, flirting with the possibility of getting more.
The door opened seconds after you'd knocked, a set of narrowed blue eyes and tousled red hair greeting you as you stepped into his dimly lit workplace.
You took a seat on the leather couch he had in the corner of the room, pretending not to notice as he locked the door behind you.
"Does Mori not pay you enough to have more than one lamp in here?"
He stood in front of you with his arms folded over his chest, a cocky grin breaking through his nonchalant demeanor. “Sorry, where does he have you working again? That tiny ass room that used to be the broom closet? Yeah, I bet the fluorescent lighting is way better in there.”
You bit back your own dumb smile, rolling your eyes as you crossed one leg over the other. "Did you drag me in here to just insult me or do you actually need something?"
"Depends, do you like being insulted?"
You could feel your body betray you, a telling shade of pink decorating your cheeks as you averted your gaze from his.
"Really?"
You didn't have to look at him to know how much it’d piqued his interest.
"Why are you going to Osaka?" You asked, eager to change the subject.
There was a subtle wave of seriousness that washed over him. His voice losing its playful edge as he rolled his shoulders with a sigh. "I can't really go into too much detail without making you a liability. The less you know about the shit that goes on around here, the better."
Your mouth open and then closed, the objection you had lined up dying on the tip of your tongue as you quietly nodded back at him. Even if you didn't want to accept his answer, you knew he was right.
"Aw, don't tell me you're actually worried about me?" He tilted his head at you, his stare softening when he caught the sincerity in your eyes as you looked back at him. "I'll be fine. Trust me, compared to the other missions I've had to go on, this is nothin'."
You had no choice but to trust him, you knew he was blunt enough to tell you the truth and if he wasn't stressed about leaving, then you couldn't be either. As easy as it was to forget, he wasn't just another member of Port Mafia, he was an executive. There was no way Mori would send him alone if he didn't think it was something he could handle.
"Honestly, I'm more worried about you." He said, breaking your train of thought by nudging your leg with his foot. "What're you gonna do for two whole weeks while I'm gone?"
You buried the rest of your concern with a shrug, uncrossing your legs as you shot him a small smile. "I don't know. Guess I'll have to start fooling around with Akutagawa to pass the time."
He nearly snorted he laughed so hard.
"What? You don't think I could have him if I wanted to?” It was infuriating how easy it was to banter back and forth with him like this. How effortless it was for you to both volley off one another without missing a beat.
He shook his head, trying not to burst into laughter again from the thought of you and his perpetually flustered coworker. "Nah, you could. Just think you'd be disappointed is all. Akutagawa wouldn't know what the fuck to do with a girl like you."
There was something about the way he said it that made the blood dance in your veins.
"Fine." You pressed, still wearing the same slight smile. "Tachihara then."
It was becoming a real problem, the way you loved toying with him as much as he loved toying with you.
"He wouldn't."
"I bet he would."
He bent down to become eye-level with you, butterflies flooding your stomach as he reached out to rest his hand under your chin, a gentle but firm grasp holding you in place. "You can try," he said, his thumb lightly dragging across your bottom lip. "But I don't think you'll have much luck."
"Why?" It was barely a whisper let alone an actual question.
You knew him well enough to know where this was more than likely going, but there was a depraved part of you that wanted to hear him say it. Needed to hear him say it.
"'Cause," His eyes glazed over as he leaned in, closing the already small gap between you so that you were forced to share the same breath. "Tachihara isn't dumb enough to touch things that belong to me."
Your heart was threatening to beat straight out of your chest. A week's worth of pent-up arousal nearly dripping onto his couch as you looked back at him without the faintest bit of restraint left in you.
All of the reasons why you'd been trying so hard to stay away from him suddenly held no real merit. They were lost to his touch. Completely eviscerated the moment his lips finally caught yours and his tongue swirled against you with the same tender urgency you'd been daydreaming about for the last five days. The future didn’t seem so pressing when the present was this heavenly.
Your legs parted without him having to ask, inviting his body to come between them while your hands travelled to the back of his neck. Desperate fingertips sinking into his skin in a feverish attempt to somehow pull him even closer.
"'Take it you're finally done ignorin' me?"
You nodded as you watched him push your skirt up, briefly pausing to take his gloves off with the same toothy method he’d used the last time you were in his office. You could tell it was a seldom act for him. Something he had to consciously remind himself to do, but only when he was with you.
"Good."
His mouth attentively returned back to yours, calloused but gentle fingers digging into the softness of your thigh while his thumb swiped your underwear to the side, granting him access to your weakest point.
"Fuck," he groaned, drawing light circles against you, reveling in the way your hips thrusted up for more.
As eager for a challenge as he was, he secretly loved how easy you were to please. How little it took to rob you of your composure and have your legs shaking around him. How pitiful you looked from only two of his digits slipping in and out of you. How your pupils would dilate in this delirious way each time he went deeper, but how you were still submissive enough to never break eye contact no matter how much you writhed and squirmed beneath him.
"Chuuya -"
"What is it baby?"
He could feel how close you were. Knew it wouldn't take much more to have you soaking him, but he couldn't leave for two weeks without making you cum on more than just his fingers. He needed to know what your walls felt like wrapped around him. What absolutely fucking dazed out noises you would make once he was inside of you.
He undid his belt with his freehand, not letting up on you as you grabbed onto the collar of his shirt.
"Fuck, yes. P - please." You whimpered, watching him stroke himself as he carefully lined up with your center. "Please, Chuuya, ohmygod, please."
"Jesus Christ." He choked out, reeling in how pretty you sounded begging for him. Almost not being able to stop himself as he watched you come completely undone, still pleading for his dick.
He moaned against you, forehead pressed to yours as he finally found the willpower to pull his fingers out of you. His tip had just barely made it past your entrance when a loud knock brought both of you to an insanely cruel and abrupt pause.
His hand flew over your mouth, fire flickering across his blue eyes as he drew in a sharp breath.
"What?" he called out through gritted teeth.
"Plan's changed." It was Tachihara. "Mori's back. He wants you to leave now instead of tomorrow."
"Now?" The anger in his voice was palpable. "Like, right now?"
"Yeah, he's waiting in the jet."
"You can't be fuckin' serious." He grumbled, a pained expression taking hold of him as he looked back down at you, removing his hand from your mouth.
"Gimme a minute." He yelled, silently trying to ration what he was supposed to do with your body still splayed so beautifully under his.
He wanted to fuck you. God damn, he wanted to ignore everything else in the entire world and fuck you into oblivion at this point, but he knew it wouldn't be fair to either of you to have to rush through it or be stressed about the fact that someone might barge in at any second.
It needed to be the right time because you both deserved it. Especially with how many mutual pent-up emotions there now were between you.
Pulling out of you was torture, but he didn't have a choice.
You could've cried, your heart and pussy both grieving the loss of something they'd never even had.
"I swear," He said, forehead back against yours, "As soon as I get back, it's me and you, okay?"
You nodded, doing your best to swallow down your emotions.
"Okay." You finally agreed, eyes still locked with his, a faint smile poking through your frustration. "But if you're not back in two weeks, don't be surprised when you see me and Akutagawa holding hands in the hallway."
He let out a half-hearted laugh as his lips met yours, kissing you in a way that he hadn't before. Soft, lingering... affectionate.
"Hey," you whispered seriously this time, "Please be safe."
"Promise."
And with that, you began redoing the buttons on your blouse and smoothing down your skirt while you watched him grab a jacket out of his armoire, pulling a pack of cigarettes out of the pocket.
"You smoke?"
"Only when I really need one."
He shot you a wink, wrapping his arm around your waist as he walked you out of his office, not caring at all who saw.
⋆ ˚。⋆୨୧˚
You knew it would be awkward without him around, but you hadn't anticipated just how slow the next week would go by. You were tired. Out of ideas for cross-stitch patterns and nearly positive that your curled fingers weren't capable of creating anything else even if you wanted to.
You read manga to keep yourself busy. Looked up recipes on your phone. Took naps at your desk that left kinks in your neck. Called your friends from back home, trying to keep the conversation going long after there was nothing left to say. You were bored. Grateful to still be here, but ready for a day off that you knew wouldn't come.
The check you received on Friday was enough of a reason to stay though. It made the long days of staring at a wall worth it. You reminded yourself again and again that there would never be another job like this. That you might actually miss it one day.
You had no idea, however, just how quickly that day would actually come until you were rounding the corner back to your office and ran into Kyoto. She was the same peach-haired woman who had recruited you from the bar, only she was standing with a fresh face. A girl who looked to be about your age with big brown eyes, flowy blonde hair, and a skirt that was somehow even shorter than yours.
When you had first started, they'd told you that there would be other 'administrative assistants' coming eventually, but you'd almost forgotten about it until now.
Your eyes drifted from her to Kyoto, thinking there was surely no way you'd both be expected to share the same office with how small it was.
You started to extend a hand out to the blonde, ready to introduce yourself when you were promptly cut off by Kyoto.
"Your time here is up." She said curtly. "If there's anything you need to get out of your workstation, I suggest you do it now."
A vicious mix of anger and embarrassment churned in your stomach. "My time here is up?" You repeated blankly. "Why?"
"Mori's decided you're a distraction." She shot you a pointed look. "Especially to that of Nakahara. Now, get your things before I have you escorted out."
Your ears were ringing, your vision blurred by tears at how cold and sterile this all felt.
You went into your office for the last time, grabbing the thread kit and books out of your drawer as you made your way down the hall, looking back to see your replacement excitedly taking over the spot that was once yours.
Goodbye college, goodbye easy money, goodbye Chuuya.
You were able to hold yourself together on the train ride home and on the walk back, but the minute you made it into your apartment and closed the door behind you, everything all spilled out at once. Your crafts and manga falling from your hands as you sank down to the floor and sobbed.
You thought nothing could've been as mortifying as your first day with Port Mafia, but your last day had proved to be far worse. You were right back at square one and it felt terrible.
⋆ ˚。⋆୨୧˚
The next few days were a blur of filling out online job applications and revamping your resume. You'd hardly eaten. Hardly showered. Hardly done anything that involved getting out of bed.
It was Sunday and rent was due tomorrow. You'd done the math in your head - you had enough money in your savings account to live here comfortably for the next three months without any additional income. If you really pushed yourself and lived uncomfortably, you could probably even skate by for four.
But no matter how much you tried to remind yourself that there was time, you still couldn't shake the feeling of failure that you'd been left with. If you'd been fired for other reasons, it might not have hurt as bad, but the fact that it really was your fault haunted you.
You took a breath, looking over yourself in the bathroom mirror. A combination of three-day old clothes and a knotted side-bun staring back at you. You decided if you were going to continue to sulk, you could at least do it in some fresh pajamas and washed hair.
The hot water felt good beading across your skin as you scrubbed off the grime and regret that had been stuck on you since the day you’d been let go. The air filling with the smell of vanilla as you exfoliated your legs and ran a conditioning treatment through your tangled locks.
You still didn't feel great, but you felt better and that was a start.
You threw on a white tank-top with a pair of oversized grey sweatpants, running a brush through your hair when you heard the buzz of your doorbell. You froze, looking down at your phone to see the time 11:11 flash across your screen.
You hadn't had a visitor since you'd moved here, let alone had someone stop by at almost midnight.
Your footsteps were light as you crept down your hallway, cautiously peeking through the slit in your door watching him impatiently ring the buzzer again, running a hand along the back of his neck while he waited.
"Chuuya?"
"You'd make a terrible doorman, y'know that?"
It was the first time you'd laughed in the last six days, your arms wrapping around him before you even had the chance to think about what you were doing.
He didn't seem to mind though, his hands locking around your waist as you both pulled each other closer. "How did you -" Your thoughts were everywhere. "How did you find my address?"
He let out a slight laugh, his breath fanning across your neck. “I told you it'd be me and you when I got back.”
There was something so sincere about the way he said it. Something so overwhelming about the way he was looking at you. Out of all the things you'd lost recently, you were incredibly thankful he wasn't one of them.
You let him in, locking the door as he followed you down the hall.
“Sorry," you said sheepishly, realizing that you were about to bring him into the messiest part of your apartment. "It's not always like this."
He took a moment to look over your bedroom. The thumb-tacked pictures of you and your friends that decorated the space above your bed. The string lights and cloud-patterned tapestry adorning the walls. The matching baby-pink sheets and comforter set.
It looked like you. It smelled like you. And no matter how many clothes there might've been scattered across the floor or mugs piled up on your nightstand, it was still way cozier than the hotels he'd been staying at over the last two weeks.
"Looks fine to me." He shrugged, taking off his jacket and tossing it onto a velvet chair next to your dresser. "How've things been since I've been gone?" he asked, taking a seat next to you on the bed with a small smirk. "You and Akutagawa official yet?"
Your eyebrows furrowed as you stared back at him, "Mori didn't tell you?"
"Tell me what?"
"I, um..." Your gaze was suddenly on the hem of your shirt as you began to fidget with it instead of looking at him. "I got fired."
"Mori fired you?" There was a sobering sharpness to his voice as he repeated it. "For what?"
You knew he'd find out one way or another, but it was still embarrassing having to relive your conversation with Kyoto. "For 'being a distraction.'" you sighed, your eyes hesitantly dragging up to his. "To you."
There was a brief moment of silence and then, a laugh.
“Huh,” he mused. “Well they're gonna be in for a real fuckin' surprise when you come in tomorrow then.”
You shook your head at him in quiet confusion. "Chuuya, I can't just show back up. Kyoto threatened to have me escorted out when I took more than five minutes to get my stuff out of my office."
His brow arched in a way that made your heart skip a beat.
"Did she?" The question was somehow calm despite the scornful undertone it carried. "Well," he breathed, gently tucking a piece of hair behind your ear. "She's gonna really hate it when the entire building has to hear me fucking you. Every. Single. Day."
A sudden warmth washed over you, beginning at your cheeks and ending at your core as you blinked back at him cluelessly. "What are you talking about?"
"You're gonna be my personal assistant." The smirk he was wearing was lethal. "And I'll pay you more than that asshole ever did. Weekends off. Full benefits. Alla that."
"Are you -" He'd never lied to you before and you weren't sure why he'd start now, but you were struggling to wrap your mind around the fact that you'd just gone from being unemployed to promoted in a matter of minutes. "Are you serious?"
"Well yeah," He said simply, his grin softening a bit. "I mean, who else is gonna clean my office before I go on trips?"
You both smiled this time before your lips were immediately back on his. Eager, unreserved, bliss.
He fell back into the bed with you on top of him, his hands gliding along your curves while you straddled him. The flimsy straps of your tank-top slipping down your arms as you hovered over him, kissing and nipping at his neck.
He didn't care if you left marks on him. Didn't care if he showed up tomorrow smelling like your perfume with blatantly obvious bites covering his collarbone. He wanted everyone to know if they didn't already. Wanted them to stare and whisper and drop fucking dead at the sight of the two of you walking in together. It made him feral just thinking about it.
Your hips were rocking against him, your center aligned perfectly with his as you moaned at the friction your movements were creating. You could feel him growing hard beneath you, his fingers tugging at the waistband of your sweats.
"Here." he said in-between breaths, helping you out of them and tossing them onto the floor.
You started to pick up where you left off, but he stopped you, swiftly undoing his belt and adding his pants and boxers into the sea of discarded clothing too. You hadn't even been able to see it until now. Hadn't been able to fully appreciate the length and fucking girth of his cock up until this very moment.
You left another kiss on his neck and then on his chest and then on his torso, meticulously leaving them all over while making your descent down to the one place you so desperately wanted to be.
He watched you with wide eyes, your hand wrapping perfectly around him as you looked up and slowly ran your tongue along the side of his base.
"Fuuuck." His voice was heady, his hands tangling into your hair as you made your way up to his tip.
You opened your mouth wider, almost wondering how it was going to fit, but you managed. Taking him inch by inch, going down further each time until you developed a steady rhythm.
You understood why he liked going down on you so much. The noises he was making were gorgeous. Groaning out sweet little nothings the faster you went. "Doin' so fucking good for me, baby." "God, you're so pretty, y'know that?"
You kept one hand on him, gliding him in out of your mouth as the other trailed down to your clit. Feeling your own slick between your fingers only made you all the more blitzed out. You were sucking and moaning and watching him stare down at you like you had put the stars in the sky as you fingered yourself while somehow still staying focused on him.
"C'mere." It was the first coherent thing he'd said since your tongue had so lavishly graced him.
He gave your hair a gentle tug, pulling you back up so that you were almost sitting on top of him.
"I need to feel you so fuckin' bad, you have no idea." he breathed, lining himself up with you, feeling how wet you were before you'd even lowered yourself onto him.
His hands rested on your hips, your grip back around his base as you centered yourself over him.
It’d been so much just to take in your mouth, you were almost afraid of how bad this would hurt, but he was aware of his size. Letting you go at your own pace as he helped keep you steady.
The stretch he provided you with from the first couple of inches alone was noticeable, but heavenly. Your eyebrows knitting together as you looked back at him. A dazed, poutiness taking over you the further down you went.
You took him in deeper and deeper until finally, you were fully riding him.
"There you go, fuck - just like that."
He watched your head lull back, your hand reaching for his as you continued to grind against him. Both of you losing control as he began to thrust into you.
Your eyes went wide, his name echoing across the room while your walls spasmed around him.
"Sucha good girl."
His praises only made you go faster, one of your hands still locked around his and the other now palming at your chest. Squeezing your nipple between your index and ring finger as you looked back down at him. "Chuuya - 'm -"
It was hard to tell where his moans stopped and yours began, the carnal sounds synchronizing the deeper he plunged into you.
He felt another clench, and then, he was suddenly drowning in you. Completely unable to hold himself together anymore as you soaked him.
"Cum inside me." you whimpered, "Please, Chuuya. I wanna feel it. Please, please - fuck, baby, please.”
It didn't take you begging to convince him, but it certainly made it happen faster.
His ocean eyes rolled back as he thrusted into you, absolutely enamored by the sounds you were making. The way you were pleading and pouting as he filled you.
It somehow made every daydream he’d had about you seem lackluster in comparison. You were beautiful you were his.
You both stilled for a moment, trying to catch your breath before looking back at each other with the same exhausted smile.
He pulled out of you slowly, letting you collapse onto his chest as he ran light fingers through your hair. "You should probably set an alarm for tomorrow." He exhaled. "I heard your new boss is a real asshole."
"Oh yeah," You mused, leaning up so that your lips were ghosting his. "He's the worst."
⋆ ˚。⋆୨୧˚
467 notes · View notes
cupidhoons · 13 days ago
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KEEPING QUIET — SJY
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in which . . . keeping quiet seems to be the hardest assignment yet — sjy x f! reader ୨୧ brother's bestfriend! au wc 875 ・ w kissing, SUGGESTIVE!! jake is a teasing little twat uhhh idk + likes n' feedback are greatly appreciated !
A/N 💌 please don't cancel me for making romance & tension in this fic for i am just a girl who writes fics for the people xx
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THE EVENING WAS QUIET, a calm blanket of silence settling over the house as you huddled at your desk, surrounded by notes and open textbooks. Midterms were creeping up fast, and the thought of failing wasn’t an option. You were so focused on your work that you nearly missed the sound of your window sliding open.
You jumped slightly but relaxed as soon as you saw Jake—your brother's best friend, and your secret boyfriend—slipping into your room with that boyish grin of his. His eyes lit up when they met yours before giving a quick glance toward the door, fully aware of the risk he was taking.
“Jake, are you insane?” you whispered, barely able to contain the mix of annoyance and excitement in your voice. “If my brother finds out you’re here…”
Jake only smirked as he pressed a finger to his lips, urging you to keep quiet. "What can I say? Missed you too much to wait," he murmured softly, his voice low and teasing. He shut the window behind him and moved closer, his presence sending a thrill up your spine.
He settled in beside you, looking down at your notes with an exaggeratedly serious face as if he were actually interested. But his arm brushed against yours, and his eyes drifted away from the notes, focused solely on you. "So, how’s the studying going?" he asked, trying to keep his voice casual, but his hand was already sliding to rest on your shoulder.
“Painful, thank you for asking,” you muttered, feigning annoyance even as your heart raced at his touch. You tried to keep your attention on the textbook, but Jake’s fingers lightly traced patterns along your shoulder, and his gaze was far too tempting.
Before you could say anything else, he leaned closer, his breath warm against your cheek. “You look stressed,” he whispered, his lips so close to your skin. “Maybe I can help you relax.”
“Jake,” you whispered in a warning tone, glancing nervously at the door. “My brother’s just down the hall. If he catches you here—”
“Then we’ll just have to be quiet,” he murmured, a mischievous glint in his eyes. His hand slipped to the back of your neck, pulling you gently toward him, and despite every warning in your head, you let yourself melt into his touch.
His lips brushed against your jaw, soft and featherlight, trailing down to your neck as he shifted closer. You bit down on your lip, suppressing a sigh as his hands traced slow, lazy patterns along your back. He was everywhere at once—his fingers in your hair, his lips leaving sparks across your skin.
“Jake,” you breathed out. The tension of keeping quiet only added to the thrill, and he knew exactly how to keep you on edge.
“Don't worry, baby” he murmured, lips grazing the sensitive spot just below your ear. You felt his grin against your skin, cocky and confident, and it made your pulse quicken. He pulled you closer, claiming your lips in a kiss that was slow and teasing. You tried to stay still, but every part of you was drawn to him, aching for more.
His hands roamed down your back, slipping under the hem of your shirt, and his every touch made your heart pace faster. You could feel his heartbeat against yours, his warmth spreading through you, but every nerve was also focused on staying silent, on not giving in to the urge to gasp or sigh.
You pulled back for a breath, eyes darting toward the door. "Jake, we’re going to get caught," you managed to whisper, but your voice sounded as breathless as you felt.
Jake just smirked, brushing a thumb over your cheek. “Then we better be careful,” he whispered, his voice a low, teasing rumble. He leaned in again, his kisses growing deeper, each one leaving you more breathless than the last. His fingers traced along your waist, his touch firm but gentle, as though he was savoring every second.
He pulled you closer, his hand tangling in your hair as he deepened the kiss, his movements becoming bolder. You stifled a gasp as he traced along your jaw, his lips moving lower, but he was relentless, brushing his lips along every sensitive spot he knew would make you squirm.
The door creaked somewhere down the hall, and you froze, wide-eyed, but Jake only paused for a second, grinning as he held a finger to his lips. He placed a lingering kiss on your shoulder, his touch featherlight and teasing, before drawing back just enough to look at you, his eyes full of mischief.
“Guess I should probably get out of here soon, huh?” he whispered, although he didn’t seem to be in any rush to move. He held your gaze for a second longer, leaning in one last time, his lips brushing yours in a soft, lingering kiss that left you wanting more.
He pulled away with a quiet chuckle, his hand trailing down your arm one last time. "Try to focus, alright?" he murmured with a grin, slipping back to the window. But he glanced back at you before he left, and you knew this wouldn’t be the last time he snuck into your room.
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trippinsorrows · 10 days ago
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in your hands + two
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authors note: well, friends. we've done it again. this is going to be a short series. if you're unaware, it's yet another au based off "looking through your eyes."
need to catch up? read part one HERE.
warnings: fluff, angst and smut
words: 8k (don't ask)
“Remind me again what you know about this guy?”
It’s a valid question. One Solana has no answer to despite the understanding of and behind it.
She shakes her head, once again throwing aside another failed option for a dress, earning another look of disagreement from her best friend and older sister, Yolanda. 
Six years apart, while they weren’t the closest when they were younger, with Solana now being a mother and no longer just an aunt to her niece and nephew, she's found herself growing closer to her older sister.
Something about motherhood being a thing for both of them creating a bond. 
Not to mention, while they haven’t always seen eye to eye on things, in her hardest moments, Solana has been able to lean on her big sister. Hence why she’s packed up her daughter and a couple of different options for her date tonight with Roman and ventured over to her sister’s place.
It would have probably been easier for her to just invite Yolanda over to her apartment, but given that Trick, Solana’s brother-in-law, offered to swing by her place and pick her, along with Soraya staying with them for the evening, it just worked out better that way.
Plus, Yolanda has always been much better with makeup, fashion and things of the sort.
“His name is Roman, and he’s nice.”
Yolanda rolls her eyes. “Yeah, because that’s so much.”
“He’s older.”
Yolanda’s gaze becomes a bit more suspicious. “How old?”
She shrugs. “I don’t know. 30s.” The gray in Roman’s beard would indicate he may even be in his forties, but looks wise, he just doesn’t appear that old. He must work a stressful job. Has to be given how wealthy he appears. Rich people seem to always be stressed about one thing or another. Even if it’s a trivial matter that’s very much first world problems. 
Yolanda nods, clearly pleased by the answer, finding the age gap agreeable. “And how did you meet him?”
Solana shrugs. “I told you. At work.”
“At that uppity ass restaurant?”
Solana rolls her eyes, grabbing another dress off the bed. “The one that helps me pay my bills.” Barely. “Yes.”
Yolanda is dedicated to staying on this topic. “So, he just walked up to you and asked you on a date while you had Raya on your hip?”
Solana fiddles with the dress in her hand. “Not exactly…..”
She had to be pacing across her room for a good half hour, cell phone in one hand, folded piece of paper in the other. The little piece of paper that she found wrapped up with the stack of money given to her by Roman exactly three days prior.
A piece of paper with a seven digit number written on it. Dashes and all. A phone number.
His phone number.
She’s thought about it on and off for the past three days, too. Considered throwing it away, considered calling it, texting it even. So many options, and none seemed like the right one.
Why would a man like him give someone like her his number? While on a date, nonetheless? Granted, given from what she saw of their interactions on said date, Solana wouldn’t be surprised if it was the first and last.
And it’s not like there was a wedding ring on either of their fingers. 
So……
It’s why she acts based on that fleeting moment of courage, deciding to bite the bullet and dial the number while Raya sleeps peacefully in her crib. 
It takes another five minutes between the time she dials the number and when she hits send. Her heart is practically beating out of her chest at each daunting ringing on the other end. 
“Hello.” And right away, Solana is regretting her decision. He sounds irritated. 
“Hi.” She clears her throat. “Umm, I—”
“Solana?” And just like that, his tone has shifted into something entirely different. Kinder, almost.
“Yeah, ummm, is this a bad time?”
A deep chuckle on the other end of the phone. “No. Not at all.” It certainly doesn’t sound that way, but she’s not about to call him out on the incongruence. “I was wondering when you’d call.”
“Not if?”
“I said I’d see you later, didn’t I?”
She swallows. He’s so confident. “I—I just didn’t—I wasn’t sure if it was—it was an accident.” And as soon as it comes out, she’s slapping her face as she continues to wear a hole into the floor. What a stupid thing to say. 
Another deep chuckle. His voice is so damn sexy. “You think I accidentally gave you my number?”
“I just…..” A glance at the photo on her nightstand, one of the first photos taken of her and Soraya when she was born, triggers the elephant in the room. “I have a baby.”
“I’m aware.”
“That doesn’t bother you?”
“Should it?” He doesn’t give her time to answer. “Look, I’m not a phone person. I prefer to discuss things face to face.” Solana’s stomach twists.“What are you doing Friday night?”
And the twisting intensifies, because there’s no way he’s asking her out?
He can’t be…..right?
She clears her throat, offering an answer that’s not entirely true but not entirely false either. “I—I have to work.” She technically hasn’t picked up the shift yet, but it’s bound to happen. Among other things. Catch up on schoolwork. Be a mom. Stress over bills. Nightly scheduled mental breakdown. The usual. 
“Not anymore,” he says it so easily, like it’s a simple thing that shouldn’t even need to be discussed. “I’ll give you whatever you make in a night.”
Solana laughs, waiting for him to also join in. He doesn't. “Shit, are you—are you serious?”
“Send me your address. I’ll have a car come pick you up.”
And that was all she wrote, hence how Solana ended up in the position she’s in now, readying for her date with a Mr. Roman Reigns.
A knock on the door interrupts her, Heaven, Solana's ten year-old niece walking in, her eyes lighting up when she sees the dress. "It's so pretty!"
Solana smiles, "thank you, baby."
Heaven's eyes crinkle with a sense of playful mischief as she walks over by her mom, sitting on her lap and asks, "are you going on a date?"
Solana and Yolanda share a laugh, the elder sister answering, "she sure is, Heav."
Solana readies to ask her niece a question when Heaven beats her to it. "Is he gonna be Raya's new dad?"
It's unexpected, as are a lot of questions for kids. But, it's still something that gives her pause, makes Solana sad for a second. Cruz doesn't need to be anyone's father. Raya isn't missing out on anything with him, but the innocent question does stir up some deeply rooted fears.
If Raya will suffer from growing up without a father at all?
Granted, it's hard for Solana to justify the alternative. Her father was in her life, and look how that turned out.
Yolanda is wise and helpful, redirecting her daughter, "baby, did you need something??"
Heaven is young enough to not see the innocent subterfuge, instead asking her initial question. “What time is grandpa coming over?”
Solana’s head snaps up as she looks at her sister through the mirror. Yolanda’s pretty face is painted in guilt as she clears her throat, quietly asking Heaven to complete some made up task, resulting in them being alone.
“Sola…..”
“Is he coming over tonight?”
“Sola—”
“Answer the question, Yolanda.”
Yolanda swallows, defeat overcoming her. “Yes.”
Solana scoffs, partially in disbelief, mostly pissed the fuck off. Shaking her head, she throws the dress down on the bed and grabs her bag, angrily stuffing them in said bag. “Forget it. I’ll see if Kayden can keep Raya.”
Yolanda’s shoulder drops as she shakes her head. “Solana, you’re being ridiculous. He’s our da—”
“Do not call him that,” Solana snaps. “He’s your dad. He’s nothing to me.” She continues to pack away the clothes, the sting of betrayal fueling her actions. “I can’t believe you would try this shit. You know I don’t want him meeting Soraya.”
She sighs, trying to explain herself. “I wouldn’t have let him—”
“Bullshit,” Solana cuts her off, swinging the bag over her shoulder. “When are you going to learn to respect my wishes? I don’t want anything to do with him! The same way he didn’t want anything to do with me!”
“You’re so dramatic. Acting like he was never there.”
“And you’re acting like he was father of the freaking year,” Solana snaps before scoffing bitterly. “Oh wait, he was. For you. It was just when I rolled around he decided he was done with fatherhood.”
Yolanda’s pretty eyes flash with a slice of guilt, but not enough to cause her to confess her wrongdoing. “Solana, he wants to make things right with yo—”
“Well, that’s too bad, because I don’t want anything to do with him,” Solana vows, gathering her bag of clothing that holds her wallet, her phone stuffed in the back pocket of her jeans as she walks out of the room, down the hall, and in TJ’s bedroom where the crib is.
“Hi, baby…..” Solana apologizes as she lifts a sleeping Soraya out of the crib, grateful when her sweet daughter remains asleep. Solana kisses the side of her head and bypasses her sister who stands in the hall, following her out and into the living room. 
Solana finds her brother-in-law sitting on the sofa, watching ESPN. 
“Trick, can you drop me off at Kayden’s place?”
Yolanda is behind her, frustration in her voice. “Solana, you’re being childish.”
Solana ignores her, focusing on her request. “Please?”
She sees the way Trick’s confused expression lifts from her to behind her, Yolanda most likely nodding to give him the sign off. Awkwardly clearing his throat, he shuts off the television and stands up. “Of course, sis.”
Solana mumbles a thank you and ops to stand outside and wait on the porch. She’s too livid with Yolanda to be around her right now. 
She just hopes and prays that this isn’t a bad sign for the evening to come.
—-------
Le Bernardin
A fancy, rich, upscale restaurant. The type where people pay thousands of dollars just for a reservation. Solana had actually applied for a job there, overhearing the pay was a fraction above minimum wage. Only for them to take one look at her and send her on her merry way, less than ten minutes into the interview.
So, it’s a bit of a full circle moment when the SUV pulls up in front of said restaurant, and she realizes the same place that turned her away as a waitress is exactly where she’ll be dining this evening. 
God really does have a sense of humor.
Solana is taken back yet again as she is escorted into the restaurant only to see it completely vacant. There’s a couple of workers, and….and him. 
Roman Reigns.
Somehow, someway, he looks different. Better than before. Bigger. If that’s even possible. 
The closer she gets to him, the more she takes in his appearance. Dress pants, nice shoes, short sleeved, dark blue shirt that hugs his bulging muscles. That beautiful hair pulled back into a bun. Expensive watch on his wrist. And eyes glued directly onto her.
Solana suddenly feels severely underdressed, regretting letting Kayden talk her into wearing the short orange dress and gold heels she eventually settled on after a good half an hour of going back and forth on options.
But, it’s when she’s directly in front of him, his lips curling into a smug smile that the second guessing wanes ever so slightly.
He looks far from disinterested. 
“You look even more beautiful when you’re all done up.” 
It’s hard not to smile at such a compliment coming from such a man.
“Thank you…..” She looks around, nervously gripping her clutch. “Are we the only—”
“I rented it out for us for the night.” Her eyes widening make him chuckle as he moves to pull out her chair for her. “You could say I’m a bit of a private person.”
Solana swallows, still confused but moving to sit down. “How…..how did you?”
“Money talks,” is his simple answer as he sits across from her, motioning for the men who escorted her in the restaurant to leave. “I’m glad you came.”
In a weird sort of way, she is too. Even if she’s not entirely sure why. “I—I wasn’t sure at first.” 
He looks curious. “Why?”
Shrugging, she pushes a string of hair that’s escaped her updo behind her ear. “That woman you were with…..”
Roman rolls his eyes. “She’s irrelevant.”
“Not irrelevant enough for you to not take on a date.” It comes out before she even realizes it. Solana slaps her hand over her face. “I’m so sor—”
“I’ve known her since I was a teenager. We…..mess around from time to time.”
Solana grows quiet. She gets it. He’s handsome. That woman was stunning. It makes sense that attractive people like to fuck other attractive people.
“But, she’s not….she’s not your girlfriend?” Because as handsome and nice as Roman seems, that’s one thing she could never do or get behind. Being the other woman.
“Not at all.” His answer is a lot more relieving than she’d like to admit. “So, can I ask about your daughter’s father?” He skips to the real question. “He still in the picture?”
Solana shakes her head, waiting for the waiter who just walked up to finish pouring the champagne before she answers. “No.” Solana takes a sip, eyes closing, missing the relief that flashes in his eyes. “He—he abandoned her and me.” 
“I’m sorry.” He doesn’t necessarily sound it, but regardless, it doesn’t make a difference.
“I’m not,” she shrugs, being more honest than what’s characteristic for her. “He’s a piece of shit who left me when he found out I was pregnant, showed back up a month after she was born because he assumed I put her up for adoption and left again when he realized I was keeping her.” Solana ends on the bitter but honest note. “I’m glad he’s not in her life. He’d only end up hurting her.”
Flashbacks of her own daddy issues flood in, forcing her to confront the fact that she’s probably just overshared. A lot. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean—”
“You’re not wrong. Kids need stability.” He says it so easily, Solana wondering if there’s a story there. “How old is she?”
The question brings the smile back to her face. “11 months. She’ll be a year next month.” Solana can’t believe how time has gone by. It feels like only yesterday she was welcoming her sweet daughter into the world, and now she’s about to be one. Time truly does fly. “I’m sorry, I keep talking.”
“I think I could listen to you talk all night and never get tired.” Their eyes lock, Solana shifts in her seat. His gaze is intense and burning and has her cheeks reddening. “Tell me more.”
“About?”
“Anything.”
She looks away, briefly distracted, wondering just how much the chandelier above their table costs. Probably more than she’s even made in her working life. “I—I don’t know what to say. I’m—I’m 26. I—I have a child. An older sister. She’s married with two kids. I—I’m really close with my mom and my sister…..usually.” She chuckles, adding, “I work two jobs, and I go to school full time.”
He seems intrigued by that last part. “What are you studying?”
“I’m getting my masters in nursing, specifically for FNP. I wanna be a family nurse practitioner.”
“Will be,” he corrects, complementing, “that’s impressive.”
“Maybe.” If only she felt as sure as he sounds. Still, she's appreciative of the kind words and says as much. “Thank you. My—my mom is a nurse. My sister is an RN. Mami wanted to be an NP, but she got pregnant with me right when she started grad school and just couldn’t handle both, so she dropped out.” Solana swallows. “I want to do it for her. For me, too, of course. But her and Raya.” His slight confusion makes her smile as she clarifies, “Soraya’s nickname is Raya.”
Roman makes a sound, acknowledging, “your face lights up when you talk about her.”
The smile is unavoidable. “She’s my heart.” Emotion builds up as she finds herself sharing, “I had just moved back here from Cali when I found out I was pregnant with her, and it….it’s weird, but I—I needed her at that time. I needed her to help me heal.” Solana finds herself subconsciously rubbing at the horizontal scar on the palm of her right hand.
A battle scar.
Most of what she's shared with this man would probably rank pretty high up there on anyone’s list of shit not to say on a first date, probably cementing this being a one and done thing. And, it’s not intentional. At all. She just finds herself opening up to Roman in a way she hasn’t opened up to any man.
Ever.
And, it confuses the mess out of her.
If he's curious about the unspoken story, he doesn’t express as such, just offers her a path to deflection. “Well, I’m sure you have questions for me.”
She does. “What do you do?”
He smiles at her, and she feels her insides melting away. He’s such a beautiful man. “Business exec. I do buyout leveraging. I won’t bore you with the details. I’m also into real estate.” 
She nods, assessing the still vacant room, like she’s just waiting for other guests to arrive, even though he’s made it clear that won’t be happening. “I guess…..I guess you do well for yourself.”
He makes a face. “You could say that.” 
She’s most definitely saying that. 
“What about your family? Do you have any kids?”
“No kids. I have a twin sister. Parents are still alive, but that’s…..complicated.” 
Solana picks up on the almost tension that rises in him at the ending part, the way his eyes briefly dart away.
“I get that…..” Because she does. Oh, she does. “Are you close with your sister?”
Solana is relieved to see that pearly white smile return. “Depends on the day.”
She giggles. “I agree. My sister is my best friend, but she’s also a thorn in my side sometimes.”
“Is that who’s watching your daughter?”
“She was supposed to,” Solana chuckles, elbows on the table. “But, it ended up being a thorn day, so she’s with her godmother.”
He nods, asking, “what time do you need to be back?”
Solana starts to answer while pulling out her phone, “I put her down for bed a little early, so…..” Glancing at the time on the phone, seeing that it’s quarter to 7pm, she shrugs and shares, “I just need to be home by midnight.”
He makes a sound. “That’s a decent amount of time.”
Curious, she finds herself asking, “For what?”
“Whatever you want.” And it’s the way he’s looking at her, how his eyes briefly drop to her chest, the small smirk on his face that there’s definitely something he wants, too. “Or whoever.”
—-----
Straddling Roman Reign’s lap in the back of the SUV that’s currently driving them to his penthouse isn’t exactly how Solana pictured this evening playing out. Even if it was predicted by her annoyingly accurate best friend.
“Ten bucks says you get fucked tonight.”
It was laughable at the time. Solana has never been one to sleep around. Cruz was her first everything. First kiss. First boyfriend. First time. Hell, the father of her first child. She’s never been with another man except for him, never really saw it for or in her to try out different men.
It’s why Roman currently sucking on her neck as his big hand palms her ass through her dress has her thrown for a loop. This isn’t her. At all. And yet, there’s not a single part of her that wants to stop, wants to push him away, to tell him no.
She just finds herself smashing her lips back onto his, the two continuing to tongue each other down until they reach their destination.
His hand closed around her, Solana is trying to gather herself as he leads them into the building to the private elevator. The distraction of his lips on her pulling her from taking in the fact that this man seems to be surrounded by security. Men guarding the SUV as they walked in the building. Men in the lobby of said penthouse. Men in the restauraunt.
Just guards everyone.
Solana chalks it up to a rich people thing. 
Especially when she steps foot into his penthouse.
“Holy shit…..” The interior is dark and sleek. Some shades of red and blue strewn about. It all feels so expensive. “I can’t believe this is where you liv—”
“I’m not gon’ lie, I’m not listening to a damn thing you’re saying right now.” It’s a combination of brutal honesty and a strain of frustration, Solana turning around to see he’s inching towards her. “All I can think about is getting you naked and face down, ass up on my bed.”
She closes her eyes the minute he’s right before her, swinging his arm around her waist, yanking her to him. Solana has to crane her head up to look at him. He’s so damn tall.
The hungry look in his eyes is no doubt too different from the exact way she’s looking at him. He may want her, but she definitely wants him. 
Even if she doesn’t understand it. 
Even if a part of her feels slightly guilty for what’s about to commence. 
Still, it doesn’t negate the fact that she wants this. 
It’s what has her licking her lips and saying so calmly. “So what are you waiting for?”
His smile is wicked, and she only has seconds to think about what she just welcomed into her. Figuratively and literally before he smashes his lips onto her.
Solana has only been kissed by a few men in her life, the majority of them coming from her daughter’s father. And it’s always been…..okay. Decent. Nice, even.
Kissing Roman, however, is none of those things. That hunger in his eyes is matched only by the passion in the way he kisses her, the way his full, pink lips move against hers, his tongue entering her mouth, toying around with her own.
It’s all so powerful and ravenous, and she finds her hands locking behind his neck at the same moment he hikes her up on his waist.
A gasp leaves her mouth, forcing her to break said kiss as he walks her to the back of his place, toward his bedroom.
“How…..” Never a small woman by any stretch of the imagination, especially since having Soraya, it’s a complete surprise the way he lifts and holds her like she weighs no more than a gallon of milk. 
Roman, however, is clearly still not interested in talking, because the moment they arrive in his bedroom, he has her up against the back of his door. His mouth is back on her with those hungry kisses that has her nails raking up the back of his neck, her thighs tightening around his waist. 
His breathing is uneven, his voice strained, and that hardening pressing in between her legs tells her just how badly he wants this too. 
“If you want to stop, you need to say something now.”
It’s the do or die moment. The epic moment of meeting at the crossroads. A part of her is screaming at her to get the hell out of this man’s place and back home where she belongs. With Soraya. Her daughter. Being the best mother that she can be.
But, another part of her, a stronger part of her, wants this, wants him. Because she always does the right thing. Or, tried to, at least. She’s certainly never allowed herself to indulge like this, so where’s the harm?
It’s like Kayden said.
Even woman should have at least one one night stand story. And who better to do it with than the man before her?
Solana’s answer is to press a teasing kiss against the base of his neck. “I’m not saying anything.....”
It feels like she’s barely able to get the words out when he’s carrying her over to the bed, sitting down with her still on top of him. He pulls back and motions for her to climb off. Standing in front of him, Solana watches how his gaze travels over her body before he demands, “take your clothes off. Slowly.”
It’s a strange, almost unfamiliar thing how easy it is for her to follow his instruction without a second thought. One minute her fingers are hooking on the thin straps of her dress, the next she’s squeezing herself out of it, all the while of his eyes never once leaving her.
Heavy breast freed, the only piece of clothing remaining on her is the soaked, black, lacy thong that keeps her cunt covered. 
Roman licks his lips and beckons her over, Solana wordlessly stepping close enough for him to tug her to him, his face buried in her chest. Her head falls back at the same time her mouth drops open as he starts a dangerous combination of kneading one breast while tonguing the other.
“Oh, fuck…..” Her hand is once again on the back of his head. “Roman…..”
“You better get used to saying my name.” He hikes her back on his waist only to flip them, so she’s laid back on the bed with his big, strong body covering her. “Cause it’s the only thing I want to hear for the next few hours.”
Her eyes widen at that, the word escaping her, “hours?”
Roman smiles, and it’s the best and worst thing in the world. So much mischief hidden behind those pearly whites. Carnal, salacious plans. “I like to fuck.” His gaze drops down in between her legs. “And eat.”
There’s a bit of anxiety that spurs the minute he starts dragging those luscious lips from her breast down her chest, his teeth pressing against her skin when he bites down on the band of her underwear. Solana’s hands grasp at the sheets as he uses his mouth to rid her of her final piece of clothing. 
Eyes darting open, she nearly loses it seeing him bring her panties to his face, his own eyes shutting as he deeply inhales and smirks. “I’m keeping these.”
She doesn’t have time to process how he tosses them to the side redirecting his focus to the dripping mess that is her cunt.
He makes a sound, going to pull his shirt over his head, moving to his knees at the edge of the bed. “Look at this pretty ass pussy. Already nice and wet for me.” His words do something to lessen her anxiety but not as much as she’d like. Getting head has always been a mid experience for her. Cruz was…..okay, nothing to be overjoyed about, and he always acted like it was an inconvenience whenever she asked him to return the favor. Not to mention the fact that he rarely, if ever, made her come from it.
Penetration was also hit or miss.
So, her expectations are pretty low up until that first lick of Roman’s thick tongue that has her nearly jumping off the bed. 
“Shit!” Her reaction is a bit embarrassing, most likely more than what’s necessary, but if he’s annoyed by it, he does a damn good job hiding it. 
He looks more turned on than anything. Roman’s long, thick fingers are suddenly playing with the mess she’s certain has already dripped on the soft sheets of his bed. “Lay back, and keep these legs open for me. Can you do that for me, pretty girl?”
More embarrassment with how quickly and fervently she nods her head, again falling back onto his big bed. Solana moans quietly when she feels his face completely submerged in her drenched cunt. 
“Roman…..”
He makes a sound followed by his fingers spreading her folds, revealing her swollen clit to him. “Sweet ass pusssy….” 
Solana hasn’t the slightest clue how she’s supposed to last these hours he’s referred to at least twice now based upon the fact that his mouth alone has her about to climax and tap out. It’s so unfamiliar and borderline inhuman how he works his tongue on and against her, exploring, licking and sucking every part of her that Cruz has somehow seemed to neglect her. 
She has her hand on the back of his head, fisting and undoing his bun, curls cascading around her fist as she presses his face deeper into her. 
It’s when he lifts his head, however, beard, chin and mouth soaked with her essence that she truly has to hold it together. “I changed my mind. I want you to watch me.” She’s not sure how and if she can do anything but, Roman’s dark eyes dropping back to her vagina. “Want you to see how good I eat this pussy…..” 
Good isn’t the word for it, because the methodical way he alternates between flicking, swirling, sucking, all the while playing with her, one finger, two fingers, moving in and out of her, needs to be studied by all men.
This is how you make a woman come, and she does. All over his face. Solana practically convulses as he laps up every bit of her essence, not once letting up, even as her orgasm rips through her. He’s still sucking on her clit, forcing her to push him away due to the overwhelming sensation of it all.
She’s partially discombobulated as his mouth finds her, letting her sample the remnants of her cum mixed in with their saliva as he taunts, “see how good you taste?” Solana is incapable of answering, among many other things. “Gonna eat you out all fucking night…..”
It’s a promise that has her clit throbbing. 
Not as much as it does watching Roman stand up at the edge of the bed and start to undo his pants. She’s unable to look away as he also rids himself of the remaining articles of clothing, her eyes basking in every rippling band of muscle that seems to make up his entire body. 
This man is beautiful and strong and ungodly perfect. It feels too good to be true.
But, it’s when he slides his boxers down, his member springing out with hunger and need that her eyes nearly bulge out of her head. 
“Oh….”
To be fair, Solana has only had sex with one man, so comparing dicks is a hard thing for her.
No pun intended.
It’s a hard thing, because it’s quite unfair and borderline cruel to even have Roman and Cruz in the same category.
Cruz barely scratches 5’7. 
Roman is well over 6ft tall.
Cruz is lean and lithe with some muscle and fat that he’s acquired over the years.
Roman’s muscles have muscles. 
Cruz dick is….average, probably a little under average.
Roman’s dick is massive.
The mushroom tip alone, pre-cum oozing through the slit, is enough to have her rethinking this whole thing. She’s not sure even that can get in.
“I don’t…..” And Solana is suddenly forced to endure the most awkward conversation of her life. “How is it supposed to fit?”
A probably silly question if not for the fact she’s genuinely concerned for the state of her vagina right now.
“It’ll fit.” Roman, however, seems unbothered, stroking himself for a minute before he instructs her. “Get on your hands and knees. Hold onto the headboard if you want.” Despite her newfound anxiety, she follows suit, Solana moaning as he glides his tip along her slippery folds. It’s baffling to her how wet she’s been and stayed for him, even with him already making her come once. This man’s presence alone is orgasm inducing. “You just gotta let me stretch this little cunt for you.”
Stretching is one thing. Ripping is an entirely different thing.
“Trust me.” He seems so sure of himself, and she’s not sure why she seems so sure of him too, nodding as she goes back to focusing on holding onto the headboard. A much needed source of support, clearly. 
Eyes closed, she hears the ripping of the condom package. Can imagine him sliding that thing over the massive, heated, turgid muscle weighing in his big hand.
She feels one hand gently gliding down her back, settling on her ass cheek where he gives her a little slap. “Just try to relax.”
Much easier said than done.
Still, she says nothing, eyes closing and head nodding. 
Now or never.
But, the minute his thick dickhead intrudes her tight opening, they’re both moaning in synchronization. It’s a burning, tight sensation on her part, maybe his as well, but there’s also something pleasurable about it? Something satisfying about the way he carefully works inch by inch of his girthy member inside of her, all the while praising her, goading her, talking her through.
“That’s it. Take this dick like the good girl you are.”
“Come on, baby. Open up for me.”
“Look at how this pussy yielding for me.”
It’s still a tight ass fit, and Solana is partially nervous about what the aftermath will look and feel like. Ice packs, crutches, and Tylenol seem to be in her near future. But, none of that matters once he’s fully seated in her, Solana trying to get used to the feel. So full and filing. 
That time of adjustment seems short lived, almost non-existent, because Solana’s body seems to have a mind of its own when she starts moving her ass back on him, prompting him to grab her hips as he starts to thrust into her.
“Shit, girl, knew this pussy would feel amazing, but I didn’t know it would feel this damn good.” His words are accurate and relatable, the discomfort gradually easing into something of pleasure. “Look how good you taking this dick.”
Eyes shut, Solana rocks her big ass back against him, whimpering when he brings hand down and slaps it. “Roman…..”
“That’s right. My name. It’s the only thing I wanna hear leave that pretty mouth of yours.” He intensifies the force of his thrusts, clearly encouraged by how she eagerly throws her ass back on his big dick. 
“Fuck, it’s so big…..” The biggest she’s ever had. The best she’s ever had. “But, it feels so good….”
“You like that shit, don’t you, baby?” He’s such a tease, taunting her, throwing in her face how good he’s beating her shit up. Solana hasn’t had sex in almost two years, not since before she found out she was pregnant, and this being her return to such a, now, wonderful thing is one hell of an experience. “Like how I’m stretching this pussy?"
“Fuck, I love it.” Because she does. Her knuckles are practically white from how hard she’s gripping the headboard, because it’s the only thing keeping her from screaming to the heavens. This man is a demond. “So good….”
Roman continues to fuck her from behind, backshots at different angles. Her head forced into the pillow. Hands on the headboard. Hands held behind her back. And each time causes her to reach a new level of heaven. 
But, it’s when Roman switches gears, repositioning them so she’s on top, Solana feels emboldened. Being on top with Cruz was always an uncomfortable thing, mostly because he would make comments about her being “too heavy” to ride him.
With Roman, all the man he is, it’s not a concern in the slightest. 
She bounces on top of his god-tier dick without a fucking care in the world. 
And he seems to feel the same. 
“That’s it……” She can feel his eyes burning into her as she rocks down on him, her big breast bouncing back and forth. “Ride my dick just like that, baby. Take what you need.”
And taking is exactly what she’s doing, because if this is a once in a lifetime chance to be fucked, thoroughly fucked by a man like Roman Reigns, she’s going to ride it until the wheels fall off. 
Some pun intended.
Roman growls, big hands pressing into her meaty hips. “He can’t never fuck you like this, fill you up like I can.” His lips are hot and pressured against the neck. “He can’t do shit for you that I can.”
She knows exactly who he’s referring to, and not a single lie is being told. “Little ass pussy squeezing the hell out of my big dick.” She moans, pulling his hair as he sucks on her tits, stopping only to again tease her, “you like that shit don’t you?”
She doesn’t stop, just professes all of the wonderful things he and his equally wonderful member are doing for her. “I love it. Fuck, I love it.”
“That’s all you needed. Someone to fuck you nice and right.” Again, it seems this man is incapable of lying, Solana hissing as he squeezes her ass cheeks while his tongue plays with her areola. “Take that stress all out on me, baby. Let me relax you.”
There’s something inherently stressful and relaxing with the way she can’t seem to find the space between reality and fantasy, with how he’s giving her a form of escape she never thought possible. Guiding and talking her to that beautiful point of release. A place she’s never been able to reach before.
Not like this. 
Never like this.
And Roman is perceptive, he can see it. Big hands moving up her back, holding her against him, guiding her on top of him. “Come for me, baby.” It’s less a command and more a plea, his voice almost desperate. “Wanna feel you come undone all over me.”
“Mio Dios!”
Solana is squeezing him, her nails pressing into his skin, her head in the crook of his neck as she comes, hard, heavy, overwhelmingly beautiful and chaotic. And his release comes shortly after, Solana enjoying the sensation of his strong, hulking body against hers, the way his face shifts into something so sensual and perfect as he jerks up into her, emptying into the condom.
She’s not sure how long they stay like that, just long enough for her to start feeling him go soft inside her. That’s when he eventually and carefully lifts her off and lays her down on the mattress, Solana panting and staring at the ceiling. She feels the dip in the bed as he gets up, obviously to dispose of the condom.
It’s only then she realizes that the absence of him inside of her is….noticeable.
A tiny bit of her eager to have it again. To have just one more taste of that deliciousness. 
Even if she probably won’t be able to walk tomorrow. 
Or ever.
Roman returns to the room, completely unbothered by his nakedness. She readies for him to climb back in the bed with her, maybe even ask her to leave. 
But, he doesn’t. 
No, he instead moves back to his previous spot at the edge of the bed. Grabbing her by her calves, he starts sliding her down. 
“I told you.” Her pussy flutters as he spreads her thighs, face to face with her swollen, puffy pussy. “I’m gonna make the most of the time we have.” And Solana is already moaning, already anticipating another round of insurmountable pleasure. “Starting with you coming in my mouth at least three more times…..”
—-------
It’s a strange, unexpected experience for a lot of different reasons. One, Roman has never really been one to let women ‘stay’ the night. He gets his nut, she gets her, and he sends her on her merry way.
And while Solana isn’t staying the night, she remains in his bed. And not just for sex. He gets her to come again in his mouth twice more before she pushes him away, citing that she needs a break. 
He gives her that, but what happens next is….unexpected, to say the least. 
Pillow talk. 
It’s fucking pillow talk that’s started by her simply running her fingers along his tattoos, asking what they mean and represent. That’s followed up with him asking her about her tattoos, which leads into literally hours of them just laying in bed….talking.
No sex. 
Just…..conversation, and normally, Roman would shy away from such a thing like the plague. It’s just never been his thing. 
But…..with her…..it’s different.
He enjoys hearing her talk, the things she shares with him, the way her nose crinkles when she laughs, how her eyes light up when she discusses her daughter with so much adoration and love. He enjoys her presence, the fact that she treats him like…..like he’s normal.
Like he’s not who he actually is, a large part of that being because she doesn’t know who he is, and that probably needs to change. Will change. Just not right now.
He just wants to enjoy having someone to talk to, and it’s easy with Solana. He doesn’t have to second guess motives or intentions or wonder about what kind of hint she’ll drop about wanting something materialistically from him like Sam.
It’s just easy.
So much so that he ends up having a bit of a hard time with letting her out of bed as 11:20pm rolls around, with her once again reminding him that she needs to be home by midnight. He understands it though, respects her dedication to putting her daughter first.
It’s still a bit of a drag for him, a sense of almost disappointment that she can’t spend the night.
Again, wholly out of his norm. 
When they pull up in front of the apartment complex, he finds himself asking, “this is your friend’s place, right?”
The driver has just opened the door for her, but she looks back over her shoulder before climbing out. “Yes, why?”
Roman waits until they’re both standing outside, as he pulls her close to him, enjoying the sight of her wearing his jacket around her body. “Do you need me to take ya’ll home?”
With a soft smile that has him thinking once again about how soft her lips feel pressed against his, she answers, “no, we’ll just stay the night here. It’s late. I don’t want to disturb Raya.”
It’s also way too late for her to be on the road, let alone on public transportation with a baby, hence why he offered.
Pleased with at least that, Roman shares without much thought, “I want to see you again.” And again. And again. And again. Her presence is…..calming in a way he’s not used to.
But, he could certainly get used to. 
Mischief sparkles in her pretty eyes. “See me again or see me again?”
“Both.” It’s an honest answer, and Solana knows that. Can see that while he probably desires her sexually as much as she does him, it’s also something different. Something deeper.
It has to be for her to lay in bed with him for hours just talking.
But, she also knows something else, something that she can’t and won’t negate. “Roman, I—I have a child. I can’t—I can’t just sleep around with you like that. I can’t do friends with benefits.”
“I’m not asking you to.” And the honesty continues as he pushes back some of her hair. “I’m just asking you to give this a chance.”
The word this has her stomach tightening as well as the way he’s looking at her. With such authenticity. The same way she’s probably looking at him.
Solana’s volume dips as she shares with just as much honesty. “Soraya is my number one priority.”
He nods. “I respect that.” 
“She comes first.”
“She should.”
Solana grows quiet. It’s hard to find a reason to disagree with someone who’s being so amenable, and really, what would be her basis for disagreeing? She’s grown. He’s grown. He’s acknowledging that he recognizes her daughter will always come first. What more does she really need?
What reason does she have to not give this a chance?
“If we do this….” She takes a deep breath, fingers grasping at the soft material of his shirt. “You can’t be with anyone else. You can’t be sleeping with random woman while you’re fucking me.”
Because she went through that once. Ignored the signs because she wanted to be happy.
Never again.
Especially not when it comes to her health. 
There’s a bit of hesitation on Roman’s end that she partially understands. She highly doubts this was his first one night stand. “That’s fair,” he finally agrees.
Solana can’t hide her surprise at him not throwing the same stipulation back at her. “You don’t want me agreeing to the same thing?”
Roman chuckles and pulls her into him,“ nobody else could fuck you like I can. You know where it’s at. This the only dick you're gonna ever want now.”
Her cheeks are flushed. “You’re arrogant.” 
But not wrong.
And he voices as such. “It’s not arrogance if I can back it up.” She can’t find it in her to disagree or to call him out, because again, there is no disagreement. “I wanna see you this Friday.”
She can’t deny the small spark of excitement at his offer before the weight of reality sets back in. “I was gonna pick up a shift, Roman…..”
He shakes his head, offering, “I’ll give you whatever you’d make on average.” Solana’s eyes widen a bit. It’s one thing that he already snuck a stack of money in her purse when she was redressing to leave. It’s another for him to continue to offer to financially supplement what she would miss out on by being with him.
“Roman, you can’t…..” That’s trailed off by another realization, even if there is still a small smile on her pretty face. “I don’t think I can get a sitter again.”
Another shrug as he says so plainly. “Bring her.” The horrified expression on her face makes him chuckle as he explains, “we won’t fuck. We can go out to eat again and then back to my place. Now, if she happens to fall asleep and we have some time…..”
Solana’s smile remains as he drops his hand to her ass, palming it, reminding her that this man really did keep her underwear. “You’d be okay with that?”
He explains so calmly. “You have a daughter. I’m not going to pretend she doesn’t exist. If we’re going to see where this goes, she has to be included, too.”
It takes her by surprise. The way he’s so easily going along with this. For some reason, Solana always imagined re-entering the dating world would be stressful given her dedication to always putting her child first. Most men these days don’t get that or aren't trying to “deal” with that. And then there’s Roman.
So…..easy.
It’s nice. Very nice. 
“How about this?” She moves her hands up his chest, feeling how he tugs her even closer. “We can go grocery shopping, and I’ll cook dinner for us.”
Roman smirks, looking down at her. “I got you cooking for me already?”
She giggles, reminding him. “I like to cook. It has nothing to do with me wanting to do anything for you.”
“Hmm. That’s fine. There’s a lot of different things I wouldn’t mind doing for you.” She sighs against him as he squeezes her ass again. “Especially to you.”
Solana can’t say she would be opposed to that.
Either of them.
Finally breaking away, she acknowledges, “I need to get inside.”
“Mmmm.”
Her smile is stapled at this point. “Goodnight, Roman.”
His eyes flicker with something. "Goodnight, Solana." She's walking up the steps when she remembers his jacket. Shuffling back over, she attempts to take it off, only for him to reach out and stop her. "Keep it. It's yours." Finger to her chin, Roman rubs his thumb along her still swollen bottom lip. "Just like you're mine now....."
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milswrites · 9 months ago
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Hobbies Part 8.
~Azriel X Reader~
Summary: In an attempt to keep Azriel away from Elain, Rhys sends him on a sabbatical to the Day Court. With a lot more free time on his hands Azriel needs to find something to keep him occupied. Unfortunately he meets Y/N who has the annoying habit of not staying away. Can she teach him that there’s more to life than he thought?
Grumpy!Azriel X Sunshine!Reader
Series masterlist
Warnings: you know the drill - angst
Sometimes one of the hardest things to do when you’ve been hurt is to carry on living.
Y/N was no stranger to sadness. Growing up an orphan is difficult enough as it is, growing up a female orphan means your life is destined to fail.
But Y/N had always had a different outlook on life. She had always been an optimist. Positive that she would break the cycle and forge a place for herself in the world, even if she had been born into an unforgiving one.
And she had. Her ability to charm and influence people with her warming smile and kind nature had enabled her to climb her way up and into society. She worked well enough to have had her gentle disposition noticed by Helion who was more than willing to welcome her into his court.
Y/N had built herself a great life, one worth being proud of, yet now she found it crumbling around her. It’s hard to imagine that one person who had been in her life for such a short amount of time could change the trajectory of it forever. But Azriel had.
Y/N was simply the fool for allowing it to happen, knowing that he would eventually one day have to leave and return to his own life. Which he was more than happy to do without so much as a goodbye, not even leaving behind a damn letter.
Y/N had found that the well from which her tears flowed from had run dry. She refused to allow herself to mourn what could have been. If he hadn’t have been gracious enough to bid her the goodbye she deserved then he clearly wasn’t the man she thought he was. She would not allow herself to waste away over a man who had no interest in her.
So Y/N did what she knew best, survived. Once she had escaped from the meeting with Helion she had retreated home, overwhelmed by her emotions as sobs wracked her body. The tears from the shock of the shadowsinger’s unexpected departure eventually subsided and with swollen eyes she began to pack for her next job.
The easy option would have been to beg Helion for some time off work while she recovered from the shock of the events that had unfolded. But her broken heart willed her to move and take action. To leave to the rural villages that Helion had said required the attention of the Court. A break would be good for her, an opportunity to clear her mind and do what she was good at. Making people happy. Even if she wasn’t feeling it herself.
With no time to waste, Y/N packed her bags for the long trip, eager to leave when dawn made its appearance. She could at least be thankful for her lack of sleep the night before which was now taking its toll on her body, allowing her to drift off into a fitful sleep rather than mercilessly letting her stay awake with her thoughts. Her dreams, a cacophony of wings and shadows.
When morning finally arrived she was gone. Leaving her emotions and problems behind as she slipped on the smile she had become so accustomed to wearing.
~~~~~
Azriel had woken in his bed. Cassian must have brought him here last night, his last memory of the previous day had been his brother hugging him in Elain’s garden.
The knowledge that Y/N was gone weighed heavy on his chest, but what hurt more were the words of her neighbour who had recalled the state Y/N had been in. The state she was in because of Azriel who had failed to be there for her. Who had left her waiting.
He knew he had failed her. Azriel could try blame Rhysand for whisking him away all he liked, but the truth was that he should have returned to the Day Court as soon as his brother had winnowed him away. He had been too late to react.
Azriel was a coward. He had dedicated most of his life to a woman he would never have and then spent the past few months pining after another that he wasn’t allowed to have. And yet when the most perfect being alive had crashed into his life with no strings or rules attached, just an instant overwhelming attraction between them, he had blown it.
He had done what he had sworn not to do and torn away Y/N’s cauldron-blessed smile and led only pain in its wake.
Upon being home at last, Azriel discovered that his life here was awfully dull. Had it always been this way? The same monotonous routine day in and day out. Train, work, eat, sleep and repeat. He longed for something to do to fill his time and someone to enjoy it with. There being only one person who he wished could fill the void that had grown in the days since he had returned to the Night Court. The one person who he had no idea where in Pythian they were.
In a desperate attempt to find Y/N, Azriel spent most of his time eagerly waiting for his shadows return. His shadows which he had sent to scour the Day Court for Y/N. He wasn’t sure whether it was their inability to find her, or some disgust at what their master had done to her, but every night they returned with no news of Y/N or her whereabouts.
So Azriel continued living. A stranger in his own body as he continued to live the life he once had, not the one that he was allowed a taste of before it was ripped away from him.
He attempted to keep himself busy, to find something in this Court that brought him the joy he had felt in the past few weeks with Y/N. The rest of the inner circle were stunned to find Azriel baking in the kitchen one morning, seething in anger at his poor excuse of a cake. Not wanting to further upset the male who had already been so down, Cassian forced himself to eat the cake with an overly enthusiastic grin on his face, hiding his gagging which had resulted from the revolting texture. His bad acting didn’t even crack a smile on the shadowsinger’s face much to the General’s disappointment.
Azriel knew his friends were concerned about him, especially after his breakdown in the garden. They were all aware it was due to this mystery woman that Azriel had met during his time in Day, however, Azriel refused to share anything about her and they couldn’t understand why.
It took several days for Cassian to realise Azriel wasn’t going to open up about it, that he would tell his brothers about her if and when he wanted to. Grateful for his friend, Azriel welcomed Cassian’s silent and unquestioning company whenever he tried something new. It wasn’t Y/N and it didn’t heal his aching heart, but the knowledge of his brother being there for him was enough for Azriel to get by. One day at a time.
Two weeks had passed since Azriel’s not so joyous return to the Night Court. He had adjusted to being back in his home but the Y/N sized hole in his heart still existed. He wasn’t surprised the pain was still present, Y/N was his once in a lifetime type of love and Azriel had missed his opportunity.
He was sulking in the kitchen when Rhysand tentatively approached him. The same way he has been doing since his return, as if he expected Azriel to disappear once more only to never return. “Oh Az! There you are I’ve been looking for you” He said upon his approach, “Helion’s sent over a few of your things I must have missed.”
“You didn’t miss anything though?” Azriel frowned at Rhys’s words, wondering what Helion could have given Rhysand seeing as all his belongings had been brought back from Day court upon his arrival.
“Oh? Well they’re in your room if you want to check, I can always send them back to him if they’re not yours” his brother replied shrugging his shoulders as he exited the kitchen.
Curious, Azriel readily made his way to his bedroom, entering to see two items he didn’t recognise on his bed. A painting and a gift wrapped in black and tied neatly with a velvet bow. He approached his bed, heart rate increasing and tears welling in his eyes as the image painted on the canvas came into focus.
An inky black sky, littered with stars that Azriel could have sworn were twinkling, glowing warmly on the page like a lit candle. The beautiful skyline below of the Court he had come to care for, because it was the home of the woman he loved. He needn’t ask who painted this picture, the image a perfect copy of the same scene that was burned into his memory. A token from the best night of his life. With shaky hands, Azriel lifted the painting to appreciate it in all its glory. Scared to remove his eyes from the piece, he kept them locked onto the delicate strokes as if he stared at it long enough he’d be able to crawl through the canvas and escape back to that night. That he’d be given a chance to fix what had been broken.
He wasn’t sure how long he sat on his bed and admired the painting, but soon his attention was drawn to the wrapped gift which seemed to tug at his chest, calling him to it.
Tremor still present in his hands, he delicately pulled apart the bow and slowly opened the wrapping as if afraid to tear it. The dark paper fell away to reveal a cobalt blue tunic, decorated with silver thread that poured over the piece like liquid moonlight. A matching pair, Y/N’s dress and a tunic. His tunic.
Azriel took the time to run his scarred fingers over each whirl of thread that constructed the familiar lines of an Illyrian tattoo, making sure not to miss a single stitch out of fear of not showing the item the respect it deserves.
Once this task was complete he sped to the mirror in his room, stripping himself of his old black shirt and pulling on the tunic. Hands running down the soft material as he appreciated the way it looked on him, the way it was made for his body.
That same strange tug in his chest panged as he observed himself in the mirror. Not wanting to ignore its presence, or because he couldn’t control the need to interact with the strange sensation, he tugged at his chest as if pulling on a long thread.
Pulling and pulling until something inside of him finally released and it felt like his heart had burst open. His world exploded into violent shades of pinks, yellows and blues, the garish colours that he associated with Y/N. Azriel felt as though his senses had come to life for the first time, the vanilla scent of Y/N that emanated from the tunic was driving him wild.
Azriel had spent centuries longing for a mate, a need which had only grown greater when his brothers had found theirs. And now it had clicked for him too. The cauldron had tied him to the ethereal beam of light in his life. His beautiful smiling Y/N. She was his. His mate.
Azriel looked back to his now panting form in the mirror and crazed, frenzied eyes stared right back at him. He knew what needed to be done. Where he needed to go. And so Azriel left to go and find his mate.
Part 9
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Notes: Hope I’m starting to make up for all the tears I caused 😭
Taglist:
@thelov3lybookworm @minnieoo @going-through-shit @iluvyewman-blog @laughterafter @amysangel @bigcreatorwombatdreamer @aaronwarnerobsessedmylove @justvibbinghere @honeybeeboobaa @willowpains @tele86 @mysticalfuncollectorus @mybestfriendmademe @starryhiraeth @gorlillaglue25 @moonlwghts @darling006 @anuttellaa @serendipityx150 @xxxalicerogersxx @that-one-little-soybean @scatteredstardustt @naturakaashi @nyx-the-alien @lostinpages13 @namelesssav @dreamlandreader @fightmedraco @maxmouse001
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fatuismooches · 8 months ago
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Self-indulgent Omega fic to help turn my writing brain back on, inspired by this brainrot. He is referred to as 24 in here as fragile reader hasn't named the segments yet. You two aren't the closest yet, but a chance encounter with the segment begins to change that. (I will respond to asks... eventually).
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After a few centuries-long coma, when you woke up, the hardest thing to process wasn't that fact. It wasn't the fact your lover, who now went by "Dottore" instead of "Zandik" was now a powerful Harbinger. It wasn't the fact you had to deal with this illness for who knows how long (actually, this was quite hard to process, but you tried your best not to dwell on it.) Rather, it was the fact that Dottore now had copies of himself running around. And if you were to properly adjust to your new life, you absolutely had to make room for them. But that was easier said than done.
They were all Zandik, but at the same time, they felt like strangers to you. They were familiarly enigmatic as you had remembered the original one, but you weren't sure if you were good enough to puzzle each of them out all over again... However, pursuing Zandik as a student meant that you certainly were a persistent soul, so you would try!
One of Dottore's segments that you were trying to crack was named 24 (he hadn't bothered to give them names for some reason). 24 was tall and imposing, authoritative even among the segments, despite their tendency to bicker with one another. He was also different from the other segments in a way, but you couldn't put your finger on what exactly it was, for some reason. Needless to say, intriguing (just like all the others). Unfortunately, your attempts to move this relationship forward weren't going the smoothest. You found that even building up your courage for numerous minutes still resulted in a dry throat and awkward moments of the segment looking at you expectantly.
However, that would change one night.
Sleepless nights were frequent when you were a student, but they seemed to have followed you even all this time later. At least, instead of studying and dealing with assignments, you were left to stare at the ceiling in peace or pull out a nice book to read until you became sleepy again. But this time, no option satisfied you. You wanted company. And so you set off to find Dottore. The walk was always nice, but it seemed like you were more tired than you thought, as you eventually realized you were definitely not going the right way in the maze of a building, evident from the recognizable doors of one of the main labs.
Well, you were already here, and you didn't want to walk all the way back. You should just enter and loop your way back around somehow. Judging from the silence on the other side, there was most likely no one else there either, which was good for you! And so you pushed the doors open, intent on entering until you saw him.
24.
He sat there unmasked, screwdriver in hand, carefully tweaking himself, a few other tools to the side as well. Wait, a screwdriver to his face? You squinted a bit more and that's when you realized he... had no face? Well, kind of, he had a mouth and squishy cheeks, but the upper half was replaced by mechanics instead. A gleaming red gem in the middle along with blue wires made up 24's face in replacement for actual eyes, You had no clue that this was what he really looked like.
You were a mix of shock and awe. It was surprising but you supposed you should have expected the segments, who weren't human, to have some features like this. And didn't Prime say 24 was the most recently made segment? More recent, more advanced, you guessed. But you also had a feeling you really shouldn't have walked in on this, so you should leave while you still could. Maybe 24 didn't notice you yet-
"It's awfully past your bedtime, isn't it, [Name]?" 24 hummed, continuing whatever modification he was doing calmly, not the slightest bothered by your intrusion, or by the fact you saw his face. You wanted to retort with something, but your usual attitude with Zandik seemed to die down around this individual that you had yet to become fully comfortable with.
"I could not sleep. So I took a walk." You glanced away from 24, then back at him. "What... what are you doing?" You asked, curiosity overtaking your nervousness.
"Simply performing some routine maintenance. I will be finished soon, and then-"
"Can I see?" The sudden, rather eager question from you, made 24 pause. You had always been quiet and a bit jumpy around him, so this sudden change in attitude had him interested. On the contrary, he thought that seeing this inhuman face of his would make you keep your distance more, but it attracted you? Not what the segment predicted, but he found himself enjoying the surprises you brought with you.
You, on the other hand, were reminded of the old days of helping Zandik put together and apart various contraptions. It was a mixture of 24's display and also the star in the middle, which reminded you of all the Ruin Guards you'd dissected in the Akademiya. It was quite fun. You wanted to see more. Hopefully, this could be a splendid opportunity to satiate your inner researcher and also get closer to the segment.
"Of course, if that is what you'd like." You walked up to him, steps full of caution yet fascination. The way his fingers maneuvered effortlessly with precision at something that appeared delicate - it was very cool, to you at least.
"You don't need a mirror or anything?"
"No, I know my body more than well enough."
"Do you have any sensation up there?"
"Yes, I can feel my own fingers when they brush against it."
"Can I touch you?" Though 24 had entertained your barrage of questions, it was this request that made him pause his work and stare at you. The red star that glimmered intensely at you suddenly made your nervousness go all the way up again.
"I'm sor-"
"Very well," 24 interrupted you, placing his hands on his lap, now looking at you expectantly. You held back a sigh of relief as you stepped even closer to him, giving his upper mechanical face an experimental tap. He didn't react outwardly, but you could tell he felt that. Gulping, you tried again, this time gliding your finger over the blue lines imprinted on the black background. And then the red star in the middle, you gave into the urge to press down on it like a button. Still, 24 seemed to be unbothered. Darn, you had hoped he was ticklish there or something.
Regardless, the area was pretty hard, compared to the softness of his cheeks, which you unconsciously slid another finger down to calculate the exact difference. Until a hand grasped your own, not too tight or too light, firm enough to make you jump.
"[Name], would you care to explain your reasons for such prodding?" Oops. 24 didn't seem very amused.
"I have no intentions, I am just interested in feeling you." As soon as the words came out, you realized how they sounded and rushed to clarify yourself. "Because I've never seen anything like this before! The technology is just interesting to me! As a scholar and all! You understand, right?" But alas, from the now growing smirk on his face, you had already lost.
"Is that so? I shall allow you to continue then, if that is what you wish. I would never block a fellow scholar's pursuit of knowledge," he grinned, pointy teeth grazing his lip as he let go of your hand. Ugh, he was definitely making fun of you.
"And, if you truly desire to obtain satisfactory results, you should come closer, no?" At that moment, the segment suddenly pulled you toward him so that you fell into his lap, legs draped over him and chests nearly pressed against each other. It was rather intimate - the only other lap you've been on was Prime Dottore's. But although your heart was beating quicker than normal, you liked how it felt...
"Better?"
"Yes," your lone word came out quiet, an attempt to hide your flustered state. But you quickly moved on, not wanting to endure further teasing. "S-So, how do you see? Since you have no... you know." 24 chuckled, relishing in the state he and he only reduced you to. But he decided to spare you this one time. He didn't want to drive you too far away now, did he, now that he finally had the chance to be alone with you.
"I have a Kamera installed inside."
"A... Kamera?" The unfamiliar word felt strange on your tongue. You never heard of such a thing.
"It is a device that takes photographs. A photograph is..." 24 pondered, trying to come up with the simplest definition for someone who hadn't had knowledge of the developments of the past four hundred years yet. "It is something that captures a moment of time in physical form." You furrowed your eyebrows at that. It sort of made sense, but it also didn't. How could time be permanent? From the expression on your face, 24 could tell you most definitely wanted to see a Kamera.
"I shall show you it-" you brightened up, "in the morning," and then deflated. "You have delayed far too long, and no one will let you sleep in." You pouted at this finality.
"But what if I want to stay with you?"
"I will accompany you back to your room, and wait until you fall asleep. Is that satisfactory?" You nodded, and then you were lifted into the air as 24 began to carry you effortlessly, making his way to dreary corridors.
And so you began to reflect in the segment's arms, which had gone from never touching you to holding you so intimately. You were surprised to see this side of the segment - you never thought he could act this way. But you suppose, if Dottore cares for you, then the rest of them really do as well.
"We should talk more," you said, just as he slipped you right back into bed. "It would be fun, I think." You don't know why you felt the need to provide a reason, perhaps because he was undoubtedly extremely busy and had better things to do than chat with you all day. And ugh - "fun"? That was such a stupid reason. Why would 24 care about fun? But he seemed to find your request attractive anyway.
"I have harbored the same sentiment for a while. I await our future conversations with great anticipation, [Name]." With a light feeling in your heart, greatly proud of yourself for your progress with the segment, the sleepiness began to settle in once more. The last thing you saw before you fell asleep was the red glow emitting from 24.
From the day he came into this world as 24, to the day you named him to live and die as Omega, he will love you.
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chaoticbardlady99 · 11 months ago
Text
I Wondered if I Could Come Home? (Astarion x Pregnant F! Reader) MDNI 18+ Part 2
CW: Smut, insecurities, pregnancy sex, PIV
Tag-list: @im-just-a-simp-le-whore @starstruck-mj-writings @divineknightmare
Part 1 is on my Masterlist :)
This is unedited because I’m tired 😂💜
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Photo belongs to @cheekylittlepupp on Tumblr
“These are all truly terrible options, Darling,” Astarion whispers into your ear, “I feel like putting anyone in this should be considered abuse.”
You try and fail to suppress the laughter- covering your mouth with your hand when another woman shoots you a glare. You should regret dragging Astarion in here, but you don’t. He’s right- this place has absolutely nothing adorable and you hate shopping here. You are very happy he shares the same sentiment.
This was an unplanned stop in the grand scheme of the evening. Astarion had insisted on taking you on a date the moment you woke up this morning. When you went to protest and say, “I look like a beached whale, no”- you were thoroughly kicked by Eowyn.
You picked the name Eowyn together a little over a month after Astarion first arrived. It’s almost month 7 now and although Astarion missed out for a few months- your daughter and him are already peas in a pod.
You disagree with Astarion? Kick. If you pick a book that doesn’t interest him? Kick. You get hormonal, angry, and Astarion sounds even slightly sad? You bet you are gonna be running to the bathroom to throw up. She’s a spiteful fucking kid and you cannot catch a break. You are the one carrying her and yet!
You suppose you can’t blame her though. You don’t want to give him any reason to leave anymore than she does. You know Astarion won’t leave again, but that worry is also silently there.
“Darling,” Astarion whispers, “come look at this atrocity.”
Astarion scrunches up his nose and picks up one of the other baby outfits. He looks at you with a “really?” and shows you a piece of fabric fashioned into a onesie with “Selune Loves Me”. You don’t even bother to suppress your snort of laughter.
“I have a horrible feeling that Shadowheart will be buying that for Eowyn,” you sigh.
“Oh no- not if I can help it!” Astarion puts the onesie back (he even folds it), “our kid is going to be a raging atheist and I will have it no other way!”
“And if she decides to be a cleric or a paladin?”
Astarion grumbles a “well that’s different” under his breath. He opens the door for you and bows dramatically as you walk through it. Astarion’s smile is brighter than the sun when you giggle.
“I’m glad you are willing to support all possible life paths, Star,” you tease.
“I will eventually convince her to change her mind,” he muses, “we’ll begin putting swords and instruments in front of her and hope she turns out better than Volo.”
You huff at him and roll your eyes. He intertwined his fingers with yours and you continued the rest of your date.
***************************
You are laying in your bed- remaining absolutely still. Astarion seems like he is still sleeping?
Whatever sick fuck keeps adding spice into your life, has gifted you an incredibley real sex dream with Astarion. Again.
You told yourself you were going to behave- certainly not because you want to. It’s out of respect for Astarion and his boundaries. You don’t know what he’s been up to or if he would even want to while you look like this.
Oh wonderful- tears.
The hardest part of this whole pregnancy nonsense is that you don’t feel good about yourself or how you look. You didn’t necessarily have the best self esteem to start with, but your body changing in front of you almost every day wasn’t helping. You know your hips have gotten slightly wider and your breasts have gotten bigger. You try to be active as much as possible so you feel some control and you eat as healthy as you possibly can without lacking nutrients, but none of it felt like enough. You feel disgusting.
Your silent tears fall down your cheeks as you suppress your pitiful sniffling. If you close your eyes, you’ll eventually fall asleep. That’s what you usually do and that’s what you did when Astarion was gone. Sleep heals everything.
Maybe your body has finally had enough of pushing all of the discomfort back. All those feelings of being unwanted, unloved, and not like yourself are ripping you apart at the seams as they rush to your eyes.
You begin to move away from Astarion- deciding it would be better for you to sit in your little rocking chair and read for a bit. There is no reason to make yourself upset over something you can’t change. Your pregnancy will be over soon enough anyhow.
“Darling?”
Astarion’s voice pierces the silence and his fingers are clinging to your shirt as if to keep you there.
You clear your throat, “yes my Star?”
“Where are you going?”
Astarion sounds incredibly worried. It’s been hard for him to see you when you are sick or when you are obviously picking yourself apart in the mirror. Astarion is constantly worrying about your vertigo and you walking around without him or Shadowheart to catch you.
You told him that his worry isn’t necessary and that you would let him know if you were feeling dizzy or like you were going to pass out. You don’t want to bring harm to yourself or your child.
“I know you know your body, Darling,” Astarion says with his shoulders slumped and a slight frown on his lips, “I have no right to tell you what you can or cannot do, but please, my Love. I just found you again. I can’t even fathom the idea of-“
Astarion had broken down sobbing, then you began to cry, and then Eowyn was kicking so you caved and promised to let him know if you were leaving the room.
You roll over to look at him and his eyebrows raise in alarm. You hastily run the tears away and smile.
“I was just going to sit on the rocking chair.”
Astarion just squints at you and you avoid his gaze- looking up out the window.
“The moon is very pret-“
“Tav, why were you crying?”
Dammit. It’s the “I’m serious” Astarion voice.
“Oh uh,” you chuckle awkwardly, “I just had an interesting dream and it led to interesting thoughts- then TADA pregnancy hormones.”
Astarion flashes you a teasing smile before ghosting his lips over yours.
“Oh I am very aware of these ‘interesting’ dreams of yours, Darling. I’ve been waiting for you to finally ask me to re-enact a few.”
Your heart stops momentarily and you blink a couple times. There is no way you heard that correctly. You begin to tear up and Astarion’s brows furrow in concern.
“You don’t want that,” you say in a low voice, a stray tear rolls down your cheek, “I look disgusting.”
His lips are on yours in an instance- a whimper leaves your lips as you feel a warm stirring between your legs. It’s almost embarrassing how desperately your body wants him- craves him. Being kissed like this by him again is a blessing.
“I wish you would stop trying to guess what I want when it comes to you,” he sighs against your lips, “and I wish you could see how beautiful you are- all the time.”
“My body has just changed so much- to me anyway,” you whisper, “I worry that I’m not attractive to you anymore.”
Astarion grabs your hand with his and guides you down to the front of his underwear- opening your hand so that you palm against his erection. You blush furiously when he forces your eyes to meet his with his other hand. His pupils are blown wide with lust.
“Does it feel like I’m not attracted to you anymore?”
“No,” you whisper shyly.
“I want you desperately,” he places a chaste kiss on your lips, “As I always have.”
You feel embarrassed by the sigh of relief that leaves your mouth upon his confession. You want to be with him this way so badly it hurts. You hesitantly wrap your leg around his hip and you pull him in for a kiss.
Astarion’s lips are soft against yours. You keep a slow pace- unsure of how far he would be willing to go.
You find out pretty quickly when you feel his hands find your underwear- tearing away the fabric completely. You pout against his lips playfully.
“I liked those.”
“I’ll buy you a thousand more pairs, my Love.”
“But-“
The breath leaves your body when you feel his fingers begin to play with your clit. Astarion roughly presses the pads of his fingers against your clit- the additional friction making you keen in pleasure.
Astarion starts to pull away and your hands find purchase in his hair- pulling him back to you. Your desperation spurs him on and your lips are crashing against each other at a fast pace.
You feel him pull you back by your hair, making you look at him- you open your mouth to protest, but then you feel one of his fingers slide into you. Astarion pushes himself all the way into you with his finger until his palm is teasing your already sensitive clit. He must realize how ready you are for him because he enters a second finger and then a third shortly after.
The feeling of his fingers inside of you are intoxicating and the way he is looking at you is even more so. Your moans are on display for him to see- Astarion’s hand in your hair has yet to loosen as he finger fucks you relentlessly.
“So good, so perfect,” he says, “and I’m the only one who will ever have the pleasure of breeding you.”
Astarion’s words rip something inside of you open- you begin to clench around his fingers hard as your climax sinks into your body. His name falls from your lips like a prayer.
It probably is- if you are being entirely honest to yourself. Astarion looks ethereal under the moonlight that floods the room. His curls are mussed up a bit from sleep, his lips turned upward and slightly parted as he watched you be overtaken with pleasure.
Astarion leaves a chaste kiss on your lips and moves your hair out of your face. He sits up and pulls you onto his lap and traces the veins in your neck down to your collarbones. His hands meet in the middle to unlace your shirt all while making eye contact the entire time.
“Gods,” Astarion whispers as he kisses down your chest, “you are exquisite, my Love.”
You must have forgotten what it was like to be under Astarion’s lustful hands and loving gaze. Your dreams were nowhere like this.
You whine at the skin contact and you feel yourself clench around nothing. The feeling of his cold fingers running along your skin- how they tease and pinch your sensitive nipples. Astarion’s word of praise alone are enough to get you off.
“So needy.”
Astarion takes one of your sensitive nubs into his mouth- sucking and grazing it with his fangs. His other hand begins to trail downward as grinds his erection up into your unclothed, soaking folds.
“Have you missed me, Darling?” Astarion coos, “has no one else been able to make you feel this way since I’ve been gone?”
You know exactly what he is asking.
“Yes,” you say breathlessly, “because my hands are nowhere as skilled as yours.”
Astarion’s laughter fills the air and your body with joy. His hand moves to release his erection from his underwear. You gasp at the sight and your hand immediately goes downwards- you feel him growl against your breast when you swipe your finger through some of his precum.
You look down and his eyes are on yours as you put your finger between your lips, licking it clean.
Astarion moves his attention from your breasts- pulling you by your hair down to his mouth so he can taste himself on you. The other hand lines him up with your entrance before pulling you down by your hips at the same time he thrusts upward.
You see stars as Astarion grazes that perfect spot inside of you. His hands had untangled from your hair a while ago, both of his hands guiding your hips down so that you continue to take his full length.
“Astar- I’m going to- fuck,” you cry out as his fingers find your clit again.
“You are going to what, my Dear? I’m afraid I didn’t catch that,” he says teasingly, his thrusts getting sloppier as you clench harder and harder.
“I- I,” your eyes roll in the back of your head as you pitch forward, putting your face in the crook of his neck. Your moans reverberate through the room- your voice is almost guttural from the intense amount of pleasure you are experiencing.
Astarion’s orgasm followed yours quickly- his moans coming out ragged and incoherent as he fills you to the brim with his seed.
You kiss his cheek, along his cheek bone, and then back until you are in the crook of his neck again.
“You are the most incredible woman I have ever had the privilege to lay eyes on,” Astarion says fondly, “I love you so much.”
“I love you too, Star,” your blissfully fucked body relaxes against his.
You don’t remember when you began to fall asleep or when Astarion repositioned you so that you were spooning. The only thing you can recall is Astarion kissing your shoulder, neck, and behind your ear while whispering his gratitude and love for you into your skin.
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runningfrom2am · 11 months ago
Text
the wedding // LTPF
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summary: the wedding of the year, i can see it now.
pairing: coriolanus snow x fem!reader
wc: 2.7k
masterlists / nav / requests
tags/warnings: capitol brat!reader, maybe slightly ooc coryo, idk i tried my best. she's a bridezilla for REAL and i wish i included more of that energy, protective!coryo, idk people are drinking alcohol? (its a wedding, so duh), also TW for Livia and r's dad just existing p much.
based on this ask and this ask!
series masterlist // playlist
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Everything was perfect. Absolutely everything you had dreamt of your whole life when it came to your wedding. Coryo had told you money was no object, and therefore, you spared no expense. You had a strong theory that your father was being sent every last bill, since you knew neither of you had anything more than what the Plinth's were providing for school, but that was the farthest thing from your problem. It was the least your father could do.
The hardest part of the whole thing, even before deciding who would give you away without your father, was deciding on your maid of honour. You didn't have many good friends, or friends at all, outside of your new husband. At one point, you wondered if had things gone differently, would you have chosen Lucy Gray?
Clemensia Dovecote was a fine enough choice. "Let me just say," Her speech began, hitting the side of her overfilled wine glass with a fork. "I have called this wedding for years, and no one believed me." She shot a smile over to you at the head table. "For anyone who doesn't know me, I'm Clemensia. Y/N's Maid of Honour." She had just thrived on the title since you offered it to her which, while annoying, was good because she took her position very seriously. She was the perfect choice- she looked nice, presentable in a dress you had picked out, but the colour clashed with the yellow in the whites of her eyes and the few scales that were yet to fall off after the snake bite. She looked fine, but she also made you look better. "But like I said, I knew this would happen."
She was drunk, repeating things in a way that made you cringe internally but nevertheless, you had to watch. The lights spread across the large backyard of the Plinth's mansion lit up the night beautifully, bouncing off every white and red rose you had spread about. You were very grateful to them for allowing you to host the reception there. They had done a lot for you in the last year since you returned from Twelve.
Mrs. Plinth was very involved with planning the wedding- she loved the winter wedding and leaning into it as a theme. It worked out nicely because it gave her something to think about other than the death of her only child, and she was a tremendous help and support to you. You were truly grateful, but this day was hard on them without Sejanus there. She had mentioned on more than one occasion that Sejanus would have been the best man, and you only slightly doubted that. You wouldn't want it to be anyone else- but Coryo would have had different thoughts, you're sure.
"How much longer will this go on for?" Your now husband whispers in your ear, fake smile on his face as he also has to listen to Clem's rambling.
"I really don't know." You reply with the same fake smile, knowing that eyes were on you just as much as her.
"Some choice for a maid of honour." He chuckles.
You roll your eyes, a playful smile on your lips. "Oh, well, I would have gone with Arachne Crane but, you know..."
"Fair enough." He mumbles, sitting back in his seat. "Are you really the only woman in the Capitol who isn't insufferably annoying? You should have been your own maid of honour."
"Well it was her or Tigris, and Tigris is prettier than me so she wasn't really an option." You hum, grabbing his hand under the table as you keep your eyes focussed on Clemensia, not paying attention to a word she says.
Coryo laughs. "Tigris is not prettier than you."
"She's your cousin, your opinion is invalid." You shrug it off.
"Doesn't change the fact that I'm right." He argues, squeezing your hand.
You don't reply, and you let his hand go to clap once Clem is finally finished. You had already eaten, so now it was supposed to be the "fun part", as Clemensia so aptly put it in her speech. You found it rude, yes, but it wasn't a big deal and after tonight you wouldn't have to see her again for a while.
It was brisk out, being a winter wedding you should have expected that, but you still had another dress to change into so you excuse yourself from the table, kissing your husband goodbye as he gets up as well.
You hadn't allowed him to see any of your dresses, and this would be your third one today alone. He loved every one, and did not expect to be disappointed by the next. Or the one after that.
"Hey, congrats, Coriolanus." He tears his gaze away from your retreating figure to whoever was talking to him.
"Thank you, Hilarius." He nods, smiling politely at him and reaching out to shake his hand.
"I saw this one coming miles away." His classmate laughs. "You remember that though, right?"
"When you said that if I wasn't going to go after her you would?" Coryo asks, eyebrow raised. "I do remember that. It makes me wonder who let you in..." It's meant as a joke as he makes a point of looking past him toward the security they have at the entrance.
He furrows his brow when his eyes catch on your father standing there, arguing with one of the security guards, his wife by his side.
"If you would excuse me..." He says, walking toward them before Hilarius could even respond.
"Ugh, I know. Why did you even invite her, Y/N/N?" Clemensia complains as Tigris helps you step out of your gown.
"Who?" You ask, unsure what she was even talking about.
"Livia." She states, yet another glass of red wine in her hand.
"Oh, I kind of had to. Connections and all that." You shrug. You weren't Livia's biggest fan, she had a "greater than thou" attitude that drove you up the wall, but who in this city didn't?
"Ah, yes. Of course." She hums. "She had a lot of audacity to show up in that dress though..."
Your head whips around to look at her. "What dress?"
"You haven't seen her?" She gasps. "I thought you saw her! It's this white-based floral, really questionable for someone else's wedding. Looks like a tablecloth." She accentuates the statement with a sip from her glass.
Your jaw ticks and you look toward the door, already seeing red.
"Hey, Y/N, it's okay." Tigris rests her hands on your shoulders, prompting you to look at her. "We'll tell security, they can escort her out if that's what you want."
You take a breath, forcing a smile on your face. "Let's not bother them. I'll just go chat with her." You smile, stepping out of the dress in bare feet, quickly grabbing Clemensia's overfilled wine glass from her hand on your way out the door.
"Y/N, Wait! Don't!" Tigris calls after you, well aware of your notorious temper by now, but you don't listen.
You're in your white slip when you storm back out to the reception area through the back patio, immediately and quickly scanning the crowd for the guest in question. You know you have seconds before Tigris likely tries to stop you, but you know Clemensia won't. Then, you see her.
You're seething already. That's practically a wedding dress on its own. You would kill her.
You stomp across the ground, tunnel vision locked on her as she raises her glass to her lips, laughing, and talking with other guests, completely careless to what she had done wrong. Well, she would learn today.
"Livia Cardew!" You grin, walking up to her. "I don't recall sending you an invitation, but here you are!"
Immediately, she's taking in your appearance, giggling at your lack of appropriate attire and shoes. "Y/N! Congratulations." She says, eyes finally locking with yours again.
"May I have a word?" You ask, already grabbing her arm and pulling her away.
"Is there a problem here?" Coriolanus asks, addressing only his security as your father stands there, red-faced with anger.
"Yeah, they've got no invite." He nods, showing Coryo the list in his hands which he quickly pretends to look over.
"Oh! Sorry, yes. There you are..." He says, pointing down at the bottom and your father visibly relaxes. "Under the title there that says 'not welcome under any circumstances'... Well then." He looks at your father now for the first time, tilting his head at him.
"No, this is my daughter's wedding and we will be let in!" He demands, raising his voice.
Coryo clicks his tongue, slightly shaking his head. "No, sir, I thought we were clear on this."
"No, you said the wedding. This, if I'm not mistaken, is the reception. I made my sacrifice. Now, I'm here."
"And only about two hours late." Coryo hums uninterestedly, looking down at his watch. "Father of the year."
Your father's fuming, and it's hard for Coryo to not laugh in his face. "I paid for everything here! You can't deny us entry!"
"I can." Coryo says. "Well, actually, my apologies. Mrs. Y/L/N, you are welcome to come in, if you'd like." He smiles at her, polite demeanour flicked back on like a light switch.
Your father quickly pulls her back behind him. "It's both of us or neither of us. Go ask our daughter." He states, gripping tightly on her arm.
"Oh, no. I won't be ruining our wedding." Coryo shakes his head, firm in his decision. "I'll tell Y/N you send your love, Ma'am. Have a good night."
"No! You will let us in right now or-" Your father's tantrum is interrupted by a commotion across the yard, drawing Coryo's attention. People gasp in shock, and then he sees you, about to absolutely lay into Livia Cardew, who now has red wine all over her face and the front of her dress.
"I must be going, now." Coryo tells them, turning back to the security guard and adjusting the cuffs of his shirt to be able to roll up his sleeves. "If you don't mind, call for peacekeepers to escort him from the property. Thank you."
He doesn't have time to hear your father's angry disagreement as he walks away.
"So," You drop her arm, turning to face her. "I'm not sure if you are aware, but this isn't your wedding." You spit, gesturing to her dress. "And listen, I get it! You're jealous. That's fine, but it's extremely tacky and honestly embarrassing for you to wear a white dress to a wedding that's not yours."
Livia's lips fall open in shock, looking down at her dress before she laughs. "Y/N, come on. It really isn't that serious, you realize that, right?"
You stare at her for a moment, weighing your options. You could smash the glass over her head like you wanted to, demand that she leave immediately, or, you could 'accidentally' spill the glass on her. Before you complete the thought, you're throwing the contents of Clemensia's glass at the front of her dress, smiling as it splatters up over her face and in her hair, dripping down the front of her expensive-looking gown.
"Oops."
Livia gasps, wiping the red substance from around her eyes and flicking it off. "I thought that for one day you could be normal! God, you are vile!" She's practically screaming now.
"This is entirely your fault, you do realize that, right?" You tilt your head at her, a slight laugh under your tone. "If you wanted my husband just say that."
"I- ugh!" She groans in frustration and anger, swiping her hands over the liquid on her chest and flicking it all at you, staining the perfectly white satin of your slip. You look down at it, and then back at her. You were about to go through the roof.
The amount of people watching in the immediate vicinity is the only thing keeping you from grabbing her hair and shoving her head into the dirt. You decide to scream instead.
It turns into more of a wail, pumping angry tears into fake sad ones. Coryo is there in a second. "Darling, what's happened?" He asks, horrified as he looks between the two of you, grabbing your shoulders.
"I-" You sniff, pointing to the girl in front of you. "I just came to offer her something to change into because that is out of dress code and I tripped and-" You hiccup as he's rubbing up and down your bare arms. "It was an accident, and then she... It was just an accident! Now my dress is ruined and, and-"
He turns his gaze to Livia who just looks pissed while you ramble on about having had a little too much to drink, that was all. He's sure that's not what happened, he knows his wife better than that, but this show was not for him. He looks her up and down, visibly disgusted by her choice of dress. It honestly looks better now.
"Coriolanus that's not-" She chuckles with the shock of the accusation, shaking her head as she pleads with him.
"It's time for you to go." He tells her, looking toward a member of security who's not busy with your father, quickly waving him over.
Livia looks at the approaching security man in shock. "I didn't do anything!"
"That dress and causing a scene over it is more than enough." He states, wrapping an arm around your waist and wiping your tears from your cheeks. "Let's get you some water, Darling. It's okay..."
"It's not!" You cry, gesturing to the few small drops of wine on the front of your dress. "It's ruined! She ruined everything!"
Just as she's about to be escorted out, you make eye contact with her, offering a smug smile. She scoffs, which earns her a grab on the arm and a more forceful expulsion from the reception.
"Y/N!" Tigris is rushing across the lawn toward you, careful not to stumble in her shoes and bridesmaids' dress. "What happened?" She asks, addressing her cousin now.
"She's okay, there was just an accident with a glass of wine. We're just going to take a few minutes. I'll help her change." He explains to her.
She nods, looking worriedly down at the small stains in your dress. "I should be able to get this out, alright?" She assures you, rubbing a clean spot of the fabric between her fingers to make sure.
"Okay, thank you." You sniff, leaning into your husband's side as he guides you back up to the house.
You get inside and upstairs to what has become your dressing room and secondary bedroom over the last year. As soon as he shuts the door behind you, you can't hold your laughter back anymore. You're practically doubled over with it, and immediately Coryo understands. He chuckles, shaking his head at you.
"What a show..." He grins fondly, pulling you into a hug which you happily return.
"Oh, you liked it?" You giggle, coming down from your laughing fit.
"It was wonderful." He agrees, kissing the top of your head. "For a moment I was worried about you."
"Aw, really?" You look up at him, jutting your lip out in a pout.
"Definitely." He hums, kissing you softly. "Now come on, let's get you changed, huh?"
"Please." You nod, kissing him again before pulling back to pull your next dress from the closet. "I was supposed to wear this underneath, but now I can't." You sigh, hanging the full dress on the door before pulling the wine-stained one over your head.
"Just that will do, I suppose." Coryo mumbles, wrapping his arms around your waist from behind as you toss the slip onto the ground.
"Oh, you suppose, do you?" You chuckle, reaching up to pull the new dress from its hanger.
"Mhm." He nods, planting a kiss in the crook of your neck. "Makes my job easier later."
You laugh, blush spreading over your cheeks and flushing your chest while you unzip the back. You carefully balance as you step into the opening in the fabric, pulling it up around your waist.
"Don't rush, Darling. It will probably take you a while to recover before we can return to the party." He says, watching you adjust the skirt before you plan on zipping it up.
"Good point." You agree, but make no effort to stop until Coryo places his hand over yours.
"What should we do with all this time we have to kill, hm?" He's already leaning down to kiss over the back of your neck.
"I feel like you have an idea..." You mumble, tilting your head to adjust to his presence.
"Have I told you how much I love you?" He asks as he gently pushes the fabric back down to drop in a pool around your ankles.
"You may have mentioned it..." You turn under his palms as they land on your lower back, gently pulling you closer. "And I love you too. More than you could ever imagine, Coryo."
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taglist: @totallynotkaibiased , @stelleduarte , @klplynn , @secretsicanthideanymore , @bejeweledreverie , @gloryekaterina , @andrewgarfieldsbitch , @queenofspades6 , @pepperonipastas , @ladybug0095 , @lunamothwrites , @sbrewer21 , @mus-tbe-a-weasley , @splxtscreen , @unclecrunkle , @karmaswitch , @coconut-dreamz , @nekee-lilac02 , @ooooglymoooogly , @riddlerloveb0t , @lovedbalances , @notyourwildestdream , @snowlandson-top , @too-lit-for-fanfic , @utopiakys , @deafeningballoonnacho , @roosterschanelslut , @chmpgneprblem , @cosmoetik , , @urvampgfsworld , @carolanns-world@nan-nie , @shakespearseclipse , @iovemoonyy , @notyoursweetheart-honey ,  @xyzstar , @eatpizzasass, @slytherinholland , @queenofshinigamis , @elodiebeau , @soulessjourney
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nitrowyverine · 6 months ago
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I thought playing Obscura would help me get rid of my brain worms. no, it just gave me new ones. For Obscura, specifically.
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I'll be adjusting the format from my TOUCHSTARVED expanded thoughts post. Brain dump after the cut!
[Demo/CH 1 spoilers are included]
(Header Image from Itch.io page! All images in this post are either from there or the Rotten Raccoons tumblr page)
Design/gameplay thoughts:
In full honesty without fluff: this game fucks immensely.
The setting for Obscura might be my new all-time favorite, like, ever. Mystery underground scandalous marketplace??? Under a mountain???? it's a diverse and vast city that's still elegantly contained and claustrophobic, but in a spicy way. The worldbuilding and flavor is excellent. I really want to run a TTRPG in a similar setting now, since its an area with so many possibilities.
CH. 1/the "demo" has a LOT of meat on it. It's got different endings, variations, a whole soundtrack. Speaking of sountrack-
Obscura is also one of the few games I've put on the soundtrack to just to vibe to. The soundtrack is SO good, and sets such a strong mood/tone. I think it complements the game perfectly.
Allot of people have mentioned it, but I am also a fan of the Safeword pause menu. It's a nice and comforting touch, especially when the game can get so intense. It lets players take a breather if they need it, but also doesn't interrupt the intensity/mood of the game for someone who doesn't want a break from the narrative.
Now, onto character specific thoughts!
Cirrus:
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IN MY HOUSE WE DON'T BELIEVE IN NOT STARTING OUT STRONG
Shout outs for having your asexual option in the dating sim be. The kinkiest guy there
Cirrus is a bit too intense for me, however, that is NOT a bad thing in the slightest. I think his route is well done for those who are up for his brand of intensity.
I might still play his route because. damn this boy's issues got me curious about his backstory. ($10 on mommy issues)
I had the hardest time getting to Cirrus's good end during my playthrough because having pretty much any self-preservation instinct around Cirrus gives you a bad/neutral ending. He's the only one I had to pull the guide out to get the best ending. (I think I'm just too sassy)
I get medusa vibes from Cirrus. The snake imagery is more likely tied to the lunar church, but his staunch reluctance to take his own mask off makes me wonder (this is mainly referenced in asks answered by the Rotten Raccoon studios). Refusal to let people see his eyes + snakes + power + slightly unnatural abilities to influence is, something.
I am shaking this man like a snowglobe WHAT IS YOUR DEAL I MUST KNOW MORE
(I am. metaphorically shaking him like a snowglobe. I would never shake this man im terrified)
CONCLUSION: Most likely to shame you for your anime choices. Least likely to be normal about it when you ask for help peeling an orange.
Keir:
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HERE COMES BIG MAN
yeah he's tied for favorite right now. the slow burn in his plot is just too good? big man....freckles...secret soft side...im weak
he's so nice I keep forgetting. He kind of kidnaps you? not even kind of he just drags you off the street and goes "you live in my house now". Even Griff calls MC a stray early on. My man really said "Here's a convenient lost human I'm dragging them home now"
oh my GOD they were ROOMATES
I definitely was too nice to him in my first playthrough until I realized he does need (and want) to be sassed to death.
this man is like 6'6 and the canon-ish Vesper height from the CG is 5'4. THE HEIGHT DIFFERENCE. This kills the man (me)
The sprite of Keir's ears blushing SENDS ME INTO A FRENZY
I quite liked the gameplay style of Keir's route. I was so focused and invested as soon as I realized I needed to remember specific directions to save the heist group during timed decisions
Something I haven't seen discussed yet: I'm mega curious about the dagger Keir has on his outfit. It's specifically pointed out in text that it's high-quality, and I vaguely remember an ask that Rotten Raccoons answered that said it's a status symbol. (The dagger also just looks SO cool. and....it looks like Francesco's...?)
(My bet is that he either 1. stole it. or 2. got it from Oleander during their tryst (WHICH WE ALSO NEED TO TALK ABOUT-))
CONCLUSION: Most likely to be gifted a "WORLD'S BEST DAD" mug from his similarly-aged peers. Least likely to live down that one time he ate soap because he thought it was edible.
Francesco:
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someone keep the "silver dust" away from this lad im scared
Originally, I was least looking forward to playing Francesco's route since I just wasn't interested in his initial concept. After playing his route though? It was excellently done, and I genuinely had fun. It was refreshing to have a character more naive than Vesper, so more cultural aspects were explained and we got a good alternate perspective on the marketplace. Also, it got REAL spicy in new and exciting ways the other chapters didn't. I'm really looking forward to the next chapters with his route!
I totally love the contrasts in his design and his character. He's got both bright red and blue highlights in his design, his outfit is very pointy and angular while his hair/smile is soft and flow-y.
And in his personality, he's both sweet and open, but extremely cagey about some information, and quite pragmatic when he wants to be. I think he's way smarter than he lets on.
that doesn't mean I don't want to bridal carry him and tuck him into bed at night after a all-nighter party
I do think Fran's slightly looser demeanor could lead to him being even more brutal than the other LI's. Remember that one anime clip (Found it, it's this one from Danshi Koukousei) where a group of friends wants to fight for fun, but one of the friends asks why they need rules in a fight? And said friend is shown like secretly holding a rock and was ready to use it? that's Fran. He would not have chill and does not heed the rules.
"Protect the boy", but mostly to prevent him from tasting blood. Because if that happens we're all fucked
CONCLUSION: Most likely to eat that M&M off the ground because you dared him. Least likely to beat the puppy allegations.
Oleander:
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Oleander is tied for favorite with Keir. Oleander is just *chefs kiss* LOOK AT HIM. inscrutable......
Somewhere in an ask answered by Rotten Raccoons studio, they mentioned that for Oleander's route, they were going for a "Sexy boss situation that doesn't feel like a work safety violation". They hit that right on the nose; there's intrigue and a power imbalance, but in a non-restrictive or terrifying way.
I love being involved in the business part of his route. I keep making decisions like "Hmm yes my primary goal is to romance Oleander. But what would be the smartest business move here? How do we advance our agenda?"
Also, I do love playing a sexy evil secretary in a vn. love having a job and being evil at it AND being paid money. 10/10
That dance scene is everything I could have ever wanted no notes
I am fascinated to find out more about what he's been up to since his last trek into the marketplace. Seems like people are trying to kill him all the time anyway, so what would be enough to cause him to leave?
he's like an angler fish, but the lure is his booba
I relate to Oleander in that. I have too many online usernames because I can't stick with one. People get my 800 online names mixed up often. He has the same problem, we're basically twinsies
This man is pretending to be a himbo like his life depends on it (It probably does). He's too smart though, I know for a fact he has at least three different schemes going at any given time.
CONCLUSION: Most likely to be able to help you properly lace a corset (this man knows the boot-to-the-back necessity of the process). Least likely to be allowed to be banker during monopoly night.
Vesper:
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black mask enjoyer 4 life
(all three are good I just wanted to say which one I picked. And to add my conclusion section)
CONCLUSION: Most likely to get their shit rocked by a falling piano. Least likely to survive an argument about pineapple on pizza.
Concerns:
With how separate the four routes are, the game could potentially feel like four separate visual novels all in one universe. Maybe I haven't played enough VN's, but there is a feeling of separation between the routes.
In the very beginning of the game, when you're picking your route, I wish there was a bit more heads up/information between who you're picking. For example, I had a rough idea that going into the church is where you'd find Cirrus, but only from information outside the game. I didn't know sticking around for the brawl would push you into Kier's route. It's overall pretty vague to which route you're going based on only in-game information.
Misc thoughts:
Vesper: "How are you going to keep me?? ;)" Keir and Oleander: "crimes" Vesper: "Wh-" Keir and Oleander: "you're an accomplice now congrats we're in this together. wanna get drinks"
catch my socially anxious ass wanting to be under the mountain and wear masks so I don't have to make eye contact with strangers all the time. at least its a fun thought to have when I mask for covid
OKAY FRANCESCO AND KEIR'S DAGGER MATCH? AND ARE RED/BLUE LIKE FRANCESCOS OUTFIT? DOES IT MEAN ANYTHING??? probably not but I do like the pretty knives....
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For real, I got the brain worms for this game, I'm on the edge of making a big ol playlist. the headcannons? They go on my friend. they go on. I'm laying awake at night thinking about what each character would order at a coffee shop
by the time I publish this post. I did start working on the playlist
yes, I've also designed my own vesper, its such a prime opportunity for character design.
Obscura also may or may not have inspired me to get involved with an otome jam game team, more on that in the future possibly.....
OVERALL: I got the first chapter/demo of Obscura for free from Itchio/steam. High marks for writing, sound, art, game design, all of it! I am on the edge of my seat waiting for CH2.
TL;DR: If you haven't played it, and love spicy and dark stories, go play it! Part one is free! and fantastic.
Itch.io
Steam
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Text
Purpose: knight!price x princess!reader
Warnings: talk of pregnancy, medieval standards for women
You sat in the solar near the window with your embroidery on your lap. Your attention was on the fabric and thread while your mother sat across the room near the fire place, doing the same as you.
"...the prince is kind. He's about your age too." She said and you had to suppress a sigh.
"It's only been a week, mother." You pointed out and she gave you a look. "If you're that worried about there not being a successor after me, perhaps you can give the throne to my cousin. She has plenty of children."
"She's fickle. She'd run the kingdom into the grave and our lineage would be the laughing stock for generations."
You frowned.
"This is your responsibility as a princess, to run the kingdom after me and secure our throne." She explained as if this was the first time you had been told this in your life. "You can't keep throwing away our options."
"If they truly liked me then perhaps I wouldn't." You retorted and she shook her head.
"That's because you aren't supposed to like each other. It's nothing more than politics, but you could always befriend him later on after children."
You sighed heavily and stopped sewing. You tried your hardest to hold in your emotions as they weighed heavy on your chest.
You suspected that before end of next week you’d be surrounded by other lords or princes vying for your hand again.
You glanced out the window and your attention immediately went to Sir John Price.
He stood in a makeshift ring with a wooded sword in his hand. In front of him was a scrawny new squire who had yet to prove he had enough potential to even be considered to be a royal knight.
Price stood in front of the squire as he prepared for a spar. His knights gathered around to watch and the squire looked as if he’d throw up.
“Alright, lad?” He wondered when he noticed his shaking legs. He sent a quick look to Simon who snickered.
“Aye, sir.” The squire lied and he hummed. “But perhaps I should spar with someone else. In account that you must have better things to do.”
Price sucked in his lips to hide his smile.
“Perhaps Sir Simon Riley will be a better fit then.” He couldn’t contain his chuckle when the squire paled. “I assure you that I will spar fairly. It’s only wood.”
It didn’t take long for the spar to start. Price was fair but he was quick. He struck the squire more than once, knocking him into the dirt and bruising his skin.
It was a spectacle without him trying. Price moved like the wind and cut with precision, his focus making it so he became practically unstoppable. Every swing had intention, every slash had a purpose.
There were tales that Price might be something more than human. Perhaps he was the spirit of heroism reborn, a warrior who lived thousands of lifetimes before this moment, a not a man but some higher being of chivalry.
Price would deny every single one of them.
He had worked hard. He practiced until his hands bled and until he nearly collapsed with exhaustion to get to this point. He worked hard to fulfill his purpose and it was him who made it happen, not some other worldly spirit or higher being.
The spar was done before long. Sweat dripped down Price’s temple while he stood over the squire who looked defeated.
He hardly put up a worthy fight and if Price were any different he would’ve turned him away. Yet he could see the potential he had and maybe he was sentimental, but he could almost see his younger self in the squire.
He helped the kid up and gave him a quick pat on the shoulder.
“Practice more and you’ll get better.” He gave him a quick smile before he waved him away.
The squire limped away to the barracks with a smile on his face.
“You’ve gone soft, Cap.” Kyle scoffed and he raised an eyebrow.
“Perhaps you want to spar as well. I know you can handle me at my best.” He offered but Kyle shook his head.
“I’d not like to wake up sore, sir.”
Price chuckled but let it rest. He wiped the sweat from his brow and massaged a knot in his shoulder.
He was only so good because he had to be. This was his entire life, the rest of his life, and one slip up meant life and death.
He looked up at the castle and caught you staring at him in the window.
For a moment you two stared at each other, unable to see the details but he knew you were looking, and time seemed to stop.
Price felt heat rise across his face and he was sure he had turned pink. He swallowed hard, nervous that you of all people had watched him spar, he was not fond of anyone but his knights watching him, and struggled to control himself.
He bowed to you before he made his way out of your sight.
You watched him leave with a similar heat spread across your face. Your heart raced just a little faster and you began to embroider again to avoid any questions from your mother.
As much as you hated to admit you understood now why your ladies in waiting would watch him when he trained.
You stubbornly told yourself you were just in awe by his skill and nothing more.
A/n: all he’s gotta do is just hold a sword and I’m over the edge
Tags: @deadbranch @makayla-666 @glitterypirateduck @dumbbitchgalore @m0chac0ffee @dragonbe-writing @sleepyoriana @twismare @blush-haze @waiting-so-long @rmikaelson01
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kurishiri · 3 months ago
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“Don’t look at anyone but me” all story previews
꒰ ִ ֺ ⊹ @ notice ⊹ ֺ ִ ꒱ this translation may not be 100% accurate or contain creative liberties due to characterization or narrative flow purposes. if you enjoy, please consider reblogging, but please don’t repost these or claim these as your own!
🪞 alfons.
You were locked in a room, by and together with Alfons, where he showered love over your entire body, nearly driving you to the brink…
“ Just like that, you need only look at me, and not another soul. ”
By the time he discovers an unexpected, possessive desire… you already became the only one in his eyes.
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Slowly, yet surely, the sweet kiss melted my thoughts, and I grasped the shirt before me in response.
Every time our tongues intertwined, an obscene sound resonated in the room…
💀 victor.
In an unexpected turn of events, you are locked in a narrow box with Victor, and his knees push your body up from below——
“ Sorry for that, I will move now, so let me lift myself up a little [1]. ”
With your bodies pressed together comes a tinge of a passionate, hidden desire.
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Victor: If we were locked in there together any longer, I think my heart would’ve exploded.
While he spoke in a bright tone, he looked toward the box. And it was then that I suddenly realized something.
(Hm…?)
Amid those flowing black locks, I could see that his ears were faintly tinted red.
🪽 darius.
Darius, with his cherubic innocence in ‘wanting to get along with you,’ chipped away at any sense of caution you had…
“ It seems we ended up locked in here together, yes? Just me and you, together. In this room. ”
I found myself ensnared by the way his gaze seemed to change just like that, and——
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When Darius turned around, our eyes met.
Through his platinum blond bangs, I was taken by those honey-colored eyes——
Darius: It is just me and you, together. In this room.
🍒 nica.
After guiding Nika, who had been lost, you two held a tea party.
And when you two parted, his dropped lips made you realize he was serious.
“ Oh, did you forget the way back? Or could it be you don’t want to return, instead being locked in here by me? ”
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As I listened, the way he spoke made him seem like he was scheming [2] something, and I felt slightly unsettled,
but then his expression suddenly turned bright, and that feeling vanished away.
Nica: In other words, you are Crown’s very, very adorable Spatzi.
💍 ring.
The day you became more casual with Ring [3], you two had to hide yourselves in a dark and narrow storage room.
And it is there something absurd happens!?
“ I…uhm…I will try my hardest to forget. And, I will try my best… to not remember… ”
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Ring: ……………………ah-
R: Waaahh!!
With a shout that sounded more like a cry, Ring jumped out of the storage room.
After that, I heard a thud as though he had bumped into something, and then silence.
(W-what in the world happened…?)
⛓️ ellis.
What had started as a small envy had turned into a possessive desire, trapping you in its thorns.
“ Don’t look at anyone but me. ”
You felt as though you were going to go crazy, to the point you could no longer see anyone but him——escape was not an option.
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His large physique shrouded me from the twilight, his shadow darkening my vision.
Ellis: Look at me, and only me, forever.
Our eyes met, and I realized reflected in his was nothing but me.
Ellis: It’s a promise.
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NOTES:
[1] Victor says [腰を浮かす] (koshi wo ukasu) here, which means to slightly lift the lower back or waist up, usually in an attempt to stand, though when in a lying position it refers to lifting your waist off the floor.
[2] it says [何かを考えている] (nanika wo kangaete iru) here, which literally translates to Nika was thinking something. I just changed it to scheming here, sort of like how the way he’s speaking makes it seem like he is saying one thing but thinking about another.
[3] there is no direct translation for this, because this mainly has to do with honorifics. they’re referring to how Kate changed from [リンさん] (rin-san), I assume, to [リンくん] (rin-kun). both —san and —kun don’t really have good equivalent English translations, or it’s very contextual. but relatively speaking, going from —san to —kun is a sign of becoming more “casual” or “close” with someone… or using —kun could be because Ring is possibly younger than Kate (as she uses the —kun honorific with Ellis because he’s younger than her). but I believe in this case, it’s the former, even if she may actually be older than him.
masterlist ⛓️ ╱ ko-fi ☕️
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reidspharb · 1 year ago
Note
part two on the angst spencer reid (happy ending if u want) 🤞🤞
How You Get The Girl
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*Part two to The moment I knew
Summary: After four days of no calls, Spencer tries his hardest to fix things with you
Word count: 1.14k
Warnings: angst, fluff, lead by pure vibes idk
Note: idk whats with me and writing at ungodly hours of the night but this one was written mostly at like 1am so any errors are due to sheer sleep deprivation! also thank you so much to anon who submitted this it was really nice to give this little story a happy ending :) also first anon ask super cool on enough of this now.
It had been 3 days 2 hours and 43 minutes since you had last spoken to Spencer. He knew because he couldn’t stop thinking about that short exchange, how you were so upset you didn’t even let him explain. 
Spencer couldn’t stop staring at his phone, picking it up every few minutes, maybe I missed the notifications he told himself.
The truth was, he knew he fucked up and he knew he hurt you and missing that party was the worst decision he had made in a long time. 
Thinking about you had consumed him so much that he found it hard to complete his work. He never used his phone at work, unless he needed to call someone for something work-related.
Of course, working with a group of profilers, people began to pick up this odd behaviour. The first to notice was his best friend JJ. 
She immediately recognized his anxious demeanour, but she just didn’t know why. After a while, she ruled out problems with his mother, and that didn’t really leave many options.
Spencer didn’t have many friends - at least that they knew of- and most likely didn’t have a girlfriend either, so what was it?
JJ approached him after their round table meeting on a case just a few miles west of Quantico. 
“Hey, Spence,” she sighed settling her hands on her hips.
“What’s up JJ?” He replied, obviously trying to act as normal and natural as possible, but it wasn’t really working. 
“Nothing, I was just wondering how you’re doing,” Immediately Spencer blushed, obviously embarrassed that his co-workers were noticing his new habits “You just seem… off. Worried. Is everything alright?”
Spencer had tried to hide his shame but clearly, it wasn’t working and he just couldn’t keep it all contained anymore. 
“No, I-“ he sighed and looked down at his feet, trying to decide what to say next. Jennifer didn’t even know about his girlfriend, how would she react knowing he hid that from her all this time and also did such a heartbreaking thing to an innocent girl.
He faked a laugh and a dull smile, “No, JJ everything’s fine! I've just been a little anxious because,” he swallowed and tried to come up with a lie as realistic and believable as possible, “I’ve just been awaiting an interview for this teaching job at Virginia Tech, and uh, they haven’t told me the date yet.” He said in a nonchalant tone, praying that JJ wouldn’t push harder.
She obviously knew he was lying, the guy was a genius but he wasn’t a very good liar. Even though she knew there was something deeper, she thought if he wanted her help, he would be honest. 
“Oh, cool! I’m sure you’ll get that response soon.” She said cheerfully before walking away and clearing the conversation out of her brain.
After the fourth day had passed Spencer knew he had to do something to make this right, the regret had nearly swallowed him whole. 
When he got off work, he drove over to the closet flower shop and purchased a rather large bouquet of your favourite flowers. He remembered when you told him that a bouquet of flowers was always the best apology.
To go along with your flowers, he purchased you a birthday card, to make up for missing the party. It was a rather cute thing, with a pop-up kitten inside, he knew you would love it even if you didn’t say it. 
He scrawled a short birthday wish into the card before starting up his car and heading in the direction of your home. 
As he drove towards your house in the darkness and rain he couldn’t help but worry about what would happen when he arrived. Would you be so angry you would throw it all in a puddle? Or would you welcome and forgive him and this would all be over. Of course, he hoped for the latter, but he would understand if you were upset by seeing his face again.
Once he had arrived, his heart raced as he stepped out of the car and headed towards the front door. When he walked up the stairs, already wet from the rain, he thought of the first time he ever strolled up those short steps and your first kiss standing right there in front of your front door.
He rapped on the door two times fast and two times slow, just like he always did. He could feel himself nearly shivering as his hands just about vibrated while he waited in that infinitely long moment for you to open the door.
He heard the chain on your door unlock and as the door swung open, he saw your face. Your tear-stained, puffy, red face. Seeing you like this almost brought tears to his own eyes.
The way you looked at him ate at him from the inside.
You sighed and looked him up and down, inspecting the flowers he was holding.
“Oh my god, Spencer. Are you insane?” You practically shrieked when you realized he was standing outside your door at 9 PM in the pouring rain. 
“I know, I’m sorry. I should have called first before I just showed up, but I nearly lost my mind missing you.” He said truthfully. “I was just too afraid to see you and tell you that what I did was so fucking stupid and I just really h-“
Just like you had on the phone those few days ago, you cut him off, but instead of with a snarky remark, with a hug. You nearly jumped into his arms. You didn’t care if you got wet or if the flowers got ruined, you just wanted to feel him. 
After the lengthy embrace, you let your boyfriend in. He gave you your flowers and your, now wet, card and made you both tea while you placed them in a large glass vase.
The two of you sat down on the couch and you let him explain this time, fully explain. You could feel his remorseful aura, and even though what he did sucked, you didn't care anymore, you were just so happy to have him with you.
After your long discussion, you ate leftover cake, then celebrated your birthday by binging your favourite tv shows and remembering old memories.
The following morning, Reid decided to move in with you, telling you he never wanted to be away from you at a time like that again. He hung up framed photos of you all over the house of kisses on cheeks and happy memories. He would remind you nearly every morning how much he loves what you have and wants you no matter what, for worse or for better, nearly like wedding vows.
And you can say proudly he never missed another birthday.
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breakmesohard · 3 months ago
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Falling behind… ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁 .ᐟ
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synopsis: Megumi can’t help but find himself falling for his newer classmate at Jujutsu High.
relationship: Reader x Megumi . F
a/n: my boy Megumi needs some love too! </3 (I will not be doing smut or implications between reader and Megumi or whatsoever purely because he’s a minor and I am NOT Drake 2.0, so have this nice, fluffy relationship.)
warnings: Slight OOC, fluff, small bit of angst !
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Megumi doesn’t know why he feels this way towards you, or rather, he doesn’t know when he started feeling this way towards you.
Moved out to a new city.
You had been like anybody else in Jujutsu High, yet for some reason, something about you had a pull. Maybe it was the way you were so lighthearted, or maybe it was the way you cared a little more for him than the others.
June is dawning on me
He remembers when he first realised his feelings for you, and he also remembers the oh so big mess of a room to clean after it. It was strange, he never had felt this way about anyone, yet here you were
And all that I can find
As perfect as ever, prying your way into his cold, cold heart. He had never known what it was like to love, to be loved.
A sickly romance in the air
He tried his hardest to stay professional, to brush his feelings off and pretend. But he couldn’t.
Lovers stroll without a care in sight
He was foolish to think he could pull that off, his heart beat only increased by a concerning amount as your hand grazed his, your soft fingers brushing past his own as you go to reach for the book next to the one he intended to grab.
Ooh, this can’t be right
That moment was stuck in his head on repeat for days, maybe even weeks after. He didn’t know how he had begun to catch these feelings for you, and he didn’t know what he would’ve done even if he did know.
- - -
‘Cause the suns engaged to the sky.
“He’s so good-looking!” Nobara exclaims, fangirling loudly as she talks about her so called ‘Boyfriend’
“Oh! Let me see!” Yuji says excitedly, quickly turning to look over her shoulder before she begins to pull her phone out, showing him a picture of him.
My best friends found a new guy.
“Whoa! He really is!” Yuji smiled brightly as Nobara elbowed him on his side. “Of course he is, you dingbat! Why didn’t you believe me?!” She yells, clearly insulted.
“Hey!” Yuji says, a frown replacing his smile as he elbowed her back, causing a fight between the two to ensue.
I’m only getting older
Megumi ignores them, still at his desk, face in palm as he stares outside the window. His mind supposedly blank, before it roams to you briefly.
I’ve never had a shoulder to cry on.
‘You’re so lovely.’ He catches himself thinking, it’s cringe, really. He doesn’t know how he got to this state, and he doesn’t know wh-
Somebody to call mine.
“Fushiguro!” Megumi whips his head over to his name as his two best friends continue to fight, bringing him into it.
“Fushiguro! Tell Itadori he’s wrong, chocolate icecream is better than vanilla in every single way!” Yuji gasps, clearly taken aback.
“What?! What type of sick joke is that?! Vanilla is clearly the better flavour and option!” Yuji practically screams, attempting to get his point across.
Megumi interrupts, clearing his throat before beginning, his tone calm and nonchalant.
“Actually, I prefer strawberry.” Yuji and Nobaras eyes both widen intensely.
“WHAT?!” They both scream, basically in sync. Megumi paid no mind to it though, his best friends attempt to hassle him more, but he blanked out.
Everybody’s falling inlove, and I’m falling behind
You were so nice to him, so openly nice to him. He felt like he could be himself around you, he could let his exterior slip around you. He wished you weren’t on a mission right now, because he wanted to see you.
- - -
And see you he did when you came back, bloodied from your second mission ever at Jujutsu High. He couldn’t help but freeze up when he saw you, eyes wide.
touched the ocean, fell right in
He couldn’t help but drop what he was doing to make sure you were alright, attempting to calm himself. He didn’t want to freak you out, afterall.
“L/N.” He called out to you, your head turns to face him before your blank expression shifts into a small smile. “Fushiguro!”
He tried so hard, so so hard to conceal the obvious red tint of his ears and the flush on his face upon hearing your mouth speak his name. His lips part, as if going to say something, but he doesn’t, he stands there.
Stepped outside and burned my skin
It’s funny, really. He never even once considered the concept of love, let alone thought he’d fall victim to the feeling. It certainly does not help considering how new you are to the school, and yet in such little time you’ve managed to sway the cold raven.
My life won’t go my way
Even after that encounter today, those brief words shared with one another, he can’t help but think back to it, staring at his ceiling.
Bossa nova in my room
Does his friends know?
Well, he hasn’t told them, but they definitely know. He looks at you with so much emotion in his eyes, raw emotion.
But Megumi could never let his feelings get in the way of his work, which is why he decided to keep the way he felt towards you to himself, even if it was killing him inside.
So he did, and he kept doing it, but it was so so hard. He thought overtime, if he avoided you, if he tried his hardest to distance, the feelings would fade.
But they didn’t.
They only made him long for you more, they only made him miss the way your lips moved when you spoke, the soothing melody that left said plush lips when you did. The way your hair looked so soft, the way your eyes drew him in, as if looking into a part of his soul he hid so so deep.
Hope that I’ll find someone to love too
If you didn’t know his feelings for you by now, you must have been a fool.
Because it was obvious, it was obvious how he itched to feel the way your soft hands brushed his calloused ones, like that one time in the library
It was obvious how he longed to feel your touch, how he wanted so badly to be near you at all times. But he couldn’t, because Megumi was scared.
So he kept avoiding you, he avoided eye contact when forced to be near you, he tried his hardest to distance himself and stop talking to you all together.
That was until you grabbed his wrist as he walked past you, his eyes widening as he looks back at you, startled.
- - -
The feeling of your soft fingers, wrapping so firmly yet gently around his wrist made him gulp, he stood there, his eyes still wide in shock as Yuji confusedly looked back, a little bit infront of Megumi, wondering why he stopped walking.
Yujis mind takes a second to comprehend the sight, before realising what was happening, making an excuse to leave quickly as if to not get involved.
“I’ll see you there, Fushiguro!” He smiles, as always before walking off. ‘Imbecile.’ Megumi thought
“Fushiguro.” You spoke, your eyes on the ground, unable to look him in his own. He stares, his blue orbs just stare at you. His face flushing a light pink as his gaze drifts to where your hand connects to his wrist.
Because,
“L/N-“ He gets cut off, you bring your head up, staring him in his own, frustrated look with furrowed eyebrows.
“Why are you avoiding me?”
‘Shit.’
“What do you mean?”
“Don’t act dumb.”
He was so so screwed, he knew very well that you weren’t stupid, yet he couldn’t find a coherent answer to give you, and he definitely won’t tell you the real reason as to why he was avoiding you. You continue,
“You never talk to me anymore, if im in the library when you come, you walk out, you ignore me when we’re in the same room, you limit conversation to me as up to only what’s necessary…”
He felt bad, he had to admit that the guilt started eating at him, especially because he didn’t realise it would’ve effected you so much, nor did he think you’d even notice such insignificant and subtle details.
“Well, I-“ He begins, but the truth is, he doesn’t have an answer. He falls silent, unable to explain his sudden detachment from you and why he had been avoiding you. He couldn’t do anything but stare into your eyes, and that alone made him so so nervous.
The suns engaged to the sky
You exhale, your eyes closing briefly, before opening again and looking at him, a softer look on your face as you speak in such a sickeningly sweet tone, so so lovely.
“Fushiguro… I don’t want you to ignore me.” You said, your eyes staring at his own. His lips depart from one another, his eyes stare at you in shock as his face goes red a little.
“If there’s something I did, I really want to know. And I want to know how I can fix it too.” Yep, he’s officially an asshole. He stares at you blankly, watching as tears fall down your eyes, your voice threatening to crack with each word that spills from your mouth.
My best friends found a new guy
“No!- I mean- No.” He answered way too quickly, way too expressively. He was embarrassed, but he couldn’t help it when you were crying infront of him, purely because of his own unwise actions.
“You didn’t do anything… I-.” He diverts his gaze from your own, attempting to look at anything but you right now. He couldn’t look at your face, the sight infront of him made his heart clench.
I’m only getting older
“I’m sorry, I have to go.” He rips his wrist away from your grasp lightly, as to not hurt you before he runs off abruptly.
- - -
I’ve never had a shoulder to cry on
How could he have been so stupid? Leaving you there to cry. Thinking he hated you. He’s a genuine jerk.
So many thoughts rushed through Megumis mind as he attempts to recollect himself from the encounter with you, it’s been hours and all he can do is stare at his ceiling, thinking about you like every other night for the past two months you’ve been here.
‘I need to apologise.’ He thinks to himself, his heart still physically aching from the thought of you hurt and distraught because of him. He couldn’t stand it.
- - -
So there he was, stood in front of your door. He fumbles around, his anxiety reaching its peak before he reluctantly leans his hand into the door, knocking before stepping back and waiting.
You open the door, rubbing your eyes softly. You looked like you had been crying. That made his heart hurt even more, the mere sight of your being showing signs of sobbing was enough to shatter his soul.
Your eyes widen upon seeing him, shutting your door in his face swiftly, not even giving him a chance to speak, but he does, through the door.
“L/N.” You listen, but you don’t reply. You sit there, slumped down, back to the door as you listen to what he has to say after.
“I’m sorry.” He murmurs.
Your ears perk up upon hearing that.
“I left you there, extremely vulnerable and confused. I want you to know I apologise for that. You’re right, I was avoiding you. But it’s not because I hate you.” He says.
“I was avoiding you because…” He stops, his stomach sinking as he shakes with anxiety. He doesn’t know whether or not to say it.
“I was avoiding you because I care about you.” He lands on saying that, not anything about liking? Or even loving.
“So?” You say through the door, your voice shaky.
“I care for you more than I care for the others.”
Your mouth shuts, your sobbing stops as you sat there confused. So confused about what’s going on.
“I find myself thinking about you, especially when you’re not near. I find my heart races… just a little bit faster when im with you.” He says, hesitatingly
“I find myself enjoying every word you speak, I find myself replaying where your fingers grazed mine in the library that one time. With you, your voice sounds like lyrics, and the silence shared between us is the music.”
Your eyes widen, your face flushing a light red before your heart begins to pick up in pace.
“I learnt over time that I don’t feel like friends with you, I feel like more. I yearn to be more, to be closer to you. Yes, it’s selfish. I feel bad talking about it even now, because I should not let me personal feelings get in between my work.”
He stops.
“But…”
Someone to call mine
“But I wish to be closer to you, so much so that it hurts my heart to think that you could ever have the thought in your mind that I think harshly about you, because I don’t. Your company is enjoyable, im an idiot, really.” He chuckles a little at his words, his own face going red a little
“I avoided you because I didn’t want my feelings to grow, because I’ve never felt like this for anyone before. Whatever you would want to call it, which im sure we both know what im implying by now, but I crave your presence in my life.”
His anxiety only grows more as you don’t respond, the silence doing his head in by the moment.
“I acted childishly, and it’s not like me to run away from my problems like that. So im sorry, but i want you to know, i have never once thought or spoken badly about you. I was simply scared for my feelings to get in the way of my work, which, they did.” He ends it.
He waits for a reply, still nothing. His heart is about to explode, the pain in his chest is insane.
“I will be going back to my room no-“
“Wait.”
Everyone’s falling in love and im falling behind
You stand up, opening the door before staring at him, his frozen figure as he stares at you wide eyed, observing your current facial expression.
“L/N-“ He begins
“Y/N.” You correct, your eyes looking everywhere except his own.
“Ah, Right..” He blushes at the correction, first name basis? What does that mean for you guys?”
You stood there in silence, for what seems like an eternity before you speak up.
“I…”
An eyebrow perks up at you, still waiting intently for you to speak.
“I feel the same way for you too.”
- - -
A/N: awh man isn’t that just so cute???? sorry for it being rushed honestly I just wanted to write something and I couldn’t be fucked having buildup to get to the end but I hope whoever read this enjoyed reading it 😭
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heliads · 2 years ago
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Hii! Can I please request getting into an argument with Pietro Maximoff after fem!reader put herself in danger to protect him?
pietro maximoff the man that you are
masterlist
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Keeping Pietro Maximoff in check might just be the hardest job there is. You have years of S.H.I.E.L.D. training, not to mention countless dangerous missions under your belt, yet trying to keep him out of trouble is the most difficult task so far. 
It’s like the guy has a death wish. Every time you’re in a situation that goes even remotely south, Pietro is hurling himself at the speed of light towards anything that could possibly cause harm. It’s like he’s a magnet attracted only to getting totally annihilated in a fight. 
The problem is that Pietro does all this and is good enough that he still wins, so he never learns his lesson. No matter how many times you chew him out for neglecting to take proper stock of a situation before running headlong into danger, he’s able to grin at you and say that seeing as he completed the objective of the mission, he doesn’t see anything wrong with it. 
Now, what you see wrong with it could fill several books, but apparently you’re the only one who realizes that. Every time you bring up the fact that Pietro is going to get himself killed, the speedster just laughs it off. He’ll say something about how he’s so touched that you care, but never actually change. 
It’s infuriating. Being a S.H.I.E.L.D. agent, you’ve heard a thousand and one lectures on the importance of sticking by the books and doing things right. Why Pietro seems to think otherwise, you’ll never understand. The problem is that he’s your mission partner, so his recklessness is your issue. If Pietro were by himself, he could chase death as many times as he wants, but he’s on your clock, and that means you need to get him under control.
You’ve tried every trick to get him to focus and follow the rules of S.H.I.E.L.D.-ordained combat, but nothing works. You train with him for hours in the Avengers facility; he gets better at martial arts, sure, but then he just knows more tricks for disarming enemy agents as he charges them. You present lecture after lecture on proper battle strategy; he ignores them all.
At one point, you got so annoyed that you requested to get another partner. Most Avengers have a S.H.I.E.L.D. agent that they work with in teams of two on missions. It’s rare that all of the Avengers called out together, after all. Most of the time, one or two of the heroes is all that’s needed. As a bit of an insurance policy, Fury decided that the Avengers would each work with a specific agent. That way, the agent could plan out countermoves and make sure the plan works before they rush in and save the day.
Before you were landed with Pietro as your assignment, you were used to working alone. All agents are, it’s what you’re taught to do from your first days in S.H.I.E.L.D. academy. Sure, you can work with a team if need be, but you can also complete a mission meant for ten all by yourself. You’re damn good at it, too; that’s why Fury chose you for this whole partners idea with the Avengers. He knew you could handle yourself and someone else. You could watch a thousand backs if need be, but right now, the only people in this world you have to protect are yourself and your partner.
It would be wonderful if you could have been placed with a reasonable Avenger, though. You were really angling for Natasha Romanoff as the two of you were already friends, but some rules were bent and now Nat and Clint Barton are partners. You’re not about to argue with that, though. Fury knows no one gets stuff done like them.
There were many other options, though. You could have been placed with Steve Rogers, now that’s someone who always has a plan. Even Tony Stark is capable of critical thought. But no, Fury thought you’d work best with Pietro Maximoff. You’d never accuse the director of lapses in judgment, certainly not to his face, but maybe in private you’d whisper it in the recesses of your own head. Fury makes no mistakes, but this isn’t working in the slightest.
You may not be able to do anything about it, but you can certainly complain to Natasha whenever you please, and so you do. The two of you are fixing up your weapons now in preparation for upcoming missions on the other sides of the world. Your hands stay busy with bullets and barrels, but your tongues aren’t exactly idle either. You and Nat are some of the best agents in the game, and that means you’ve got vaults of gossip that could ruin half the agency.
Pietro is always your favorite topic of conversation, though, and today is no exception. You and Pietro will be heading out on a mission early tomorrow. Although you made sure your briefing presentation was as easy to understand as possible, you’re certain that he’ll still find a way to blow it all off when the time comes.
You grimace as you fiddle with the trigger of your second favorite pistol. “I just don’t get it, Nat. Pietro knows the stakes of this mission. He knows the stakes of every mission we’ve gone on. So why is it that he completely disregards everything we’ve agreed upon to hurl himself into trouble the second things start getting dicey?”
Natasha chuckles. “Maybe he does it to get a rise out of you. You know Pietro, the guy can’t take anything seriously.”
“I’m well aware of that,” you groan, “and it’s working, to be sure, but come on. The missions are intense, even for me. I can’t be trying to complete the objective and drag his ass out of danger every five seconds.”
Natasha taps her fingers against an empty cartridge as she thinks. “I know you love to complain about him, but in all honesty, the two of you do work really well as partners.”
She holds up a hand when you shoot her an incredulous glance. “Yeah, yeah, he’s a pain to work with, but it’s true. I mean, have the two of you ever failed a mission? Neither of you have ever been injured more than a sprained ankle or paper cut. For the level of danger that you’re encountering, that’s really impressive. You’re human, Y/N. The fact that you have yet to get seriously hurt on any of these ventures is crazy.”
You lean back against the wall as you think about what she said. “That’s mainly because Pietro draws all the enemy fire by doing his usual shenanigans. While the enemy agents are distracted by him, I take them out. It works, yeah, but–”
Nat cuts you off. “But it works. You’re an agent, Y/N, you know things can’t always go according to your plan. If it’s good, then it’s good.”
You make a face. “I hate it when you make sense. What if I just want to complain about him and his stupid troublemaking attitude?”
Natasha cracks a grin. “That’s something entirely different. That’s completely fine.”
You laugh at that, but even after the conversation switches topics, you’re left wondering about what Natasha said. She’s not wrong, is she? Pietro does get the job done, even if he does it in the most baffling way known to man.
Still, you would appreciate it if he could give even a little bit of a heads up when he feels like doing something strange. When the next morning comes around and it’s time for the mission to begin, you find yourself wondering what on earth he’ll get up to this time.
Pietro greets you outside your assigned Quinjet with his usual grin. “Wonderful to see you, L/N.”
You fight the urge to roll your eyes. “You’re just as charming as ever, Maximoff. Ready to go?”
“Always,” he assures you, and offers you his hand to help you inside with all the mock solemnity of a proper gentleman.
You don’t have much time to get irritated by Pietro’s antics, however. All of your missions have been dangerous, but this one is going to be even more of a challenge. You’re going to be infiltrating a HYDRA complex in the hopes of breaking out an important prisoner. HYDRA is expecting you to come, so this isn’t going to be easy in the slightest. The enemy base is going to be a stronghold, and every guard there is just waiting for someone to try making their way inside.
That’s why you and Pietro are going to have to stick strictly to the plan, as you make sure to remind him. He nods solemnly, the picture of perfect attention, but you have no doubt that he’s already forming his own plot for when the time is right.
Regardless of what Pietro decides to do, the strike has to begin. The Quinjet lands in the woods a short distance from the HYDRA facility, leaving you and Pietro to sneak through the surrounding brush and enter unnoticed by the guards.
This, of course, is easier said than done. You and Pietro have to take out a fair number of HYDRA soldiers before you can even reach the door. After that, you have to present modified ID badges and enter passcodes before you can enter. The HYDRA guards on the inside are surprised to see unfamiliar faces walking through the door, but you and Pietro take them down without too much trouble.
The real issues start happening as the two of you approach the detention block. Although you hid the bodies of the guards to the best of your ability, it was only going to be a matter of time before they were found. You’re about two halls away from the cells when alarms start blocking. You and Pietro lock eyes before you start to sprint for the detention area.
Guards are already converging on your location, but you shoot them as they come. S.H.I.E.L.D. has a spy on the inside that was able to get the two of you functional key cards, and you’re able to swipe your way into the cell block as quickly as you can. 
Pietro stands by the door. “Get our guy, I’ll keep the guards from swarming.”
You nod once and rush towards the rows of cells. So far, all is proceeding to plan, even if the guards have been alerted to your presence earlier than you’d like. Your eyes scan the names next to the cells, and you sweep from one door to the next in search of your hostage.
At last, you find her. She’s a key scientist that Fury has been wanting to recruit for forever, and he has a feeling that getting kidnapped by HYDRA will be the last straw she needs to defect to your side. You swipe your key card and let the scientist out. The two of you start to run past Pietro, and that’s when you see it.
He’s getting himself into trouble again. No surprises there, but man, you really wish he would just follow directions. Pietro was supposed to only shoot at guards from the door and wait for you to arrive before attempting to take out anyone else. Instead, he’s left his station and is currently charging down the hall towards a big pack of soldiers. It’s a stupid move, especially because Pietro has his back turned to the other end of the corridor where another group of HYDRA agents is running towards him.
You swear under your breath, then shove an extra pistol in the hands of the scientist. “Shoot at anyone that shoots at you,” you hiss, “I need to go save my partner.”
She starts to open her mouth in surprise, but you’re already sprinting down the cell block. You leap through the door and hurl yourself towards the squad of guards that Pietro doesn’t see. You fire round after round, taking out as many agents as you can, but obviously this isn’t going to end well. There are far many more of them than there are of you, and you left your six undefended in your rush to make sure Pietro made it out alive.
You’d like to say that your little diversion allowed both of you to escape unharmed, but unfortunately that isn’t the case. Pietro is fine, as he’s able to take out the guards on his side of the hallway without any injury, but you’re not so lucky. You manage to get to the corridor just in time to see one of the HYDRA agents approaching Pietro’s back fire off a shot. You shoot at the other guards and see them all fall, but when it comes to the bullet spiraling towards Pietro, the bullet he doesn’t see, there’s only one thing you can do.
You’ve been shot before. Every agent can claim some bullet wound to the legs, stomach, arms. At S.H.I.E.L.D., people like to claim that it’s a rite of passage. You’re not a true agent unless you’ve gotten hit. You passed that particular ritual a long time ago, but you forgot how much it hurts to get shot.
The bullet hits you in the side. You manage not to cry out, but you still make a sort of gasping sound. It was quiet, barely there at all, yet somehow Pietro hears you anyway. He turns around in surprise, and you have the perfect view of how his face contorts in horror as he realizes that you’re hurt.
He’s at your side in an instant, one hand reaching towards you to stop the bleeding. “You were supposed to stay at the door until I reached you,” he whispers.
You arch a brow. “Surely you’re not telling me to stick by the plan.”
You were joking, but Pietro flinches like you’ve slapped him. “I’m getting you out of here. Now.”
He moves to pick you up, but you shake your head. “Get the scientist. I can walk.”
Pietro looks like he wants to argue, but the severity of your glare is enough to convince him otherwise, even if he doesn’t like it. Through some minor miracle, the three of you are able to make it back out of the base and towards the Quinjet. You leave a trail of bodies in your wake as you fight through squad after squad of HYDRA agents, but it’s done, and that is what matters most.
The scientist is shown to a room in the Quinjet, and you make your way to the medical station as the aircraft takes off. You’ll check into the med wing at headquarters once you touch down again, but you can at least assess the damage to your side now.
You’ve cleaned the wound and are in the process of bandaging it up when Pietro shows up. Usually, he walks around every room like he owns it, but this time he hangs in the doorway as if unsure of what he’s allowed to do.
You jerk your head towards him. “You can come inside, you know.”
He walks quietly inside. “Is it bad?”
You glance towards your side as if unaware of it. “The bullet wound? It was just a graze, no worries. I’ll be fine.”
Pietro clenches his jaw, then forces himself to relax before speaking again. “Yeah, but what if you hadn’t been fine? If you had just waited for me to come back, this wouldn’t have happened.”
You laugh bitterly. “If I had waited there and done nothing, you would have gotten shot. You didn’t know those agents were behind you, so I took them out. End of story.”
Pietro shakes his head. “No, you risked yourself unnecessarily. I had it under control.”
Your brow furrows. “I’m sorry, are you trying to argue that I was wrong to try and protect you? In case you forgot, that’s my job.”
“No,” Pietro asserts, “that’s my job. I keep you safe and you complete the mission. That’s the way it’s always been.”
You can’t believe him. “I think you mean that you do your best to seek out as much danger as possible and I complete the mission in spite of it. That’s the way it’s always been.”
“You don’t understand,” Pietro begins.
You scoff. “I certainly don’t. Why are you so upset about this? I did what was necessary to keep you safe. That’s not something you get to be mad about.”
His eyes flash. “It is when you get hurt. Do you know why I do what I do, Y/N? Why I seek out as much danger as possible, as you put it? I do it because when they’re firing at me, they’re not firing at you. You’re the one who needs to stay safe. You’re the one who’s most important.”
“Why would that be?” You ask confusedly.
Pietro spreads his hands simply. “I need you to be alive. You may not realize it, but you’ve got more worth than just a weapon. I want you to be safe.”
You shake your head slowly. “That makes no sense.”
The corner of Pietro’s lips quirks up, making his smile lopsided. “Doesn’t it? Does it really come as such a surprise that someone here might care about you?”
“Only that it would be you,” you breathe.
He leans forward to blot away a smear of blood on your hand. “If you think about it more, it might not surprise you anymore.”
You feel frozen in place, unable to do anything except stand there and stare at him. 
Pietro grins, clearly enjoying the wave of emotions currently storming through your mind, then leans forward and presses a kiss to your cheek. “I’ll see you around, L/N.”
He turns around to leave the medical station, and you shout at his retreating back. “You’re incredibly infuriating, you know that?”
You can sense Pietro’s grin even though you’re not facing him. “Love you too!” He calls back. You’re left standing there, grinning to yourself, filled with some emotion you don’t think you could name if you tried. Love you too. Yes, perhaps you do after all.
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