#this scene warmed and enveloped my heart
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Queen Charlotte: A Bridgerton Story, Episode 6: Crown Jewels, written by Shonda Rhimes
#queen charlotte: a bridgerton story#screenplay#shonda rhimes#shonda's writing sent me to heaven!!!!!#this scene warmed and enveloped my heart#this scene was from the early minutes of the final episode but they already delivered this breathtaking exchange ahhhhhhh#i cried rivers throughout the finale!!!!#note to self: please rewatch the series
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Azul Ashengrotto x afab Reader - Aphrodisiac + Breeding
đ summary: After an alchemy accident, you and Azul end up covered in an aphrodisiac potion ïżœïżœïżœàŒ¶àŒ¶ đ warnings: afab reader, smut, LOTS OF BREEDING KINK, pregnancy mention, porn with plot??? àŒ¶àŒ¶àŒ¶ đ word count: 8.4k words I DON'T KNOW HOW THIS HAPPENED àŒ¶àŒ¶àŒ¶ đ song: Vapor - 5 Seconds of Summer "I wanna feel you in my veins I want to breathe you in like a vapor I want to be the one you remember I want to feel your love like the weather, all over me" àŒ¶àŒ¶àŒ¶ đ inspired by: this ask thank you! âĄâ§*:ïŸ
As a magicless human, Alchemy had always been your favorite class at Night Raven College. Despite lacking an innate aptitude for spell-casting, mixing and crafting potions was an artform that didn't require magic in order to bring spectacular effects into the world. Alchemy classes provided a refugeâa safe space with no barrier for entry where you could excel instead of feeling singled out for being an oddity in a sea of talented mages. You relished in the opportunity to learn about new components and elements, excitedly observing as volatile chemicals bubbled in heated pots to produce glowing, glittery pastes.
Much to your suspicion, Azul had always been particularly enthused to help you with potions, boasting how he was the most adept in the class due to his academic proficiencies, and that he was certain you'd find success with his aid. He took special interest in mentoring you, watching your delicate, nimble movements as you worked, walking you through procedures and detailed steps, and speaking knowledgeably about the ingredients in a tone that oozed expertise. His tutelage had helped you reach impressive grades on even the most challenging assignments. It wasnât long before you found yourself spellbound by his charming intellect, deceivingly sweet demeanor, and the addictively intense gaze of his unique blue eyes.
There was always a subtle mischief hidden behind the smiling eyes and the easy charisma that suggested an ulterior motive lurking beneath his silver-tongue. Based on your observations of his interactions with other students, you assumed this was a ploy in hopes that if you had taste of the sweet, intoxicating elixir of power and success, you'd become desperate for more of his help, consequentially making you subservient and open to the idea of contracting yourself to him. In defiance of your paranoia that his motivations are not entirely altruistic, you did always feel an odd prickle in the air when he stood right behind you to monitor your actions. That sensation, a fiery buzz that hummed in your lower abdomen, always gave your heart flutters and kept you on edge as Azul's calm breaths ghosted against your hair and sent ripples of warm pleasure tingling through you. Your breath hitched in your throat as his large, gloved palms gently guided you through your motions, brushing over the bare skin on your knuckles or arms, leaving electric jolts where you felt his warmth. He smelled crisp like ocean breeze, an inviting fragrance that enveloped your mind and wrenched you out of reality and into his heady fantasyâa scene in which all you can taste are the thick, sweet notes of his dark intentions, and all you could do was choke on his cloying, dominating allure. He didn't ask permission to touch you or indicate an appropriate method to teachâno, his hands simply snaked around your waist and ran along your curves, slowly learning the feeling of your soft flesh through his gloves. Each time, you couldn't help but sink a little closer to his chest, instinctively chasing the seductive ambience radiating off of him, drowning in his captivating presence as though he was the tide pulling you under. There was no denying itâyou wanted more of him.
Today's lab was no different, the air was tense and thick with charged attraction, filled with sexual tension so palpable it could be cut with a knife. The assignment was to experimentally combine various liquids, mixing and adjusting for better consistency, until you found a formula to concoct a viable, bountiful healing potion that would greatly ease the effects of injury. This assignment was a notoriously difficult, energy-draining procedure that required extreme vigilance to avoid an adverse chemical reaction that would result in a completely different type of potion, although Crewel didnât elaborate on the exact details. After carefully pouring two compoundsâone a milky white, and the other a vivid magentaâinto a tall, cylindrical flask, Azul cautiously peered over your shoulder to check your concoction's progress as you stirred them. With one arm outstretched against the table to secure a good vantage point, he rested his other on your waist and leaned in closer as he studied the bubbling pink mixture. After adding an infusion of ground powder, a burst of sparkles clouded the interior of the flask, a telltale sign you were on the right track. This is the portion of the experiment where you needed to take extra caution to mix the elements together in perfect precision without faltering or taking your eyes away from your project, a delicate operation requiring the utmost concentration. Suddenly, Grim barges in and jumps on the lab station in excitement, yapping about how he wants to help, despite you and Azul explaining multiple times he has a proven history of destroying your projects.
The moment the little cat-monster attempts to extend his claws into your precious potion, Azul reacts automatically with surprising speed, his hands fly in a frenzy to scoop Grim away from your chemistry equipment. "Get off that this instant, Grim! You have no business here! Get your little paws out of that glassware this instant before you ruin another assignment! Do not interrupt us! Get away from there immediately!" Azul scolds him repeatedly while chasing him around the room, attempting to steer him to the door. "Why you foolish beast! You're far more of a liability than an asset! This experiment requires extreme care and concentration to avoid failureâa common result of your erratic, clumsy behavior!" His expression hardens with anger, eyebrows drawing into a line as Grim hisses defiantly. The little monster still hasn't relented, his hind legs clumsily scrabbling and slipping in Azul's grip as he tries desperately to cling onto the edge of the lab table, hoping for a quick paw-hold. A heavy, frustrated sigh escapes Azul's nostrils, his face morphing into one of desperation, pleading with the troublesome cat-creature to just leave you to focus your project in peace.
"How very annoying... To think he would willingly place himself in danger without even stopping to consider the consequences... what a foolish and irresponsible creature," he exhales irritably, struggling to wrestle Grim from his precarious position as his composure begins to slip, agitation creeping through his voice and shattering his typical polished and suave illusion of unflappable equanimity. He continues to scold Grim as he chases him around your station, gritting his teeth and losing his cool as the monster's cries of distress and denial ring through the entire room. Grim is an unrelenting little bastard who won't quit squirming. There isn't the slightest semblance of remorse or pity on his stupid, feline face, and Azul feels his resolve crack as he becomes utterly fed up with this spoiled brat's behavior. Grim continues to kick and howl his way through Azul's grip, determined to aid with your Alchemy project, but his clumsy movements start causing your potion to bubble and ripple in an unsettling manner. You shriek his name, begging him to just settle the hell down and be a team player.
It happens in a matter of secondsâa fizzling sound grabs your attention. You turn back around quickly and notice your reaction beginning to froth violently. Your eyes widen in horror and your mouth drops in disbelief. Azul notices your fear-wide eyes and immediately stops his futile efforts to reprimand Grim. In an instant, his gaze reflects the alarm in yours and the blood drains from his already pale cheeks. Grim runs out in a screaming huff as he exits in a frenzied flurry, knowing when to take a hint and make a clean getaway. At this point, the compound is pouring heavily from the top of the flask, spewing out onto the heating device and coating the table below. The chemical reaction is completely beyond your control now, its speed increasing exponentially, bubbling and exploding, kicking out thick, unmanageable clouds of murky pink and purple fumes. Within seconds, it covers the lab tables in an almost misty haze as you choke and sputter in a coughing fit, Azul gasping and choking right alongside you, panic flashing across his face. An eerie glow seeps through the thick liquid as a swirling mist appears from inside the glass. Without warning, it erupts directly toward the two of you before either of you have time to take coverâshattering the flask and showering the fronts of your faces and bodies in its noxious, intoxicating fluids. Both you and Azul choke out muffled yells and groans, the sticky, glittering mixture clinging to the fabric of your clothes and the exposed skin on your faces.
The next thing either of you register is Crewel's obnoxious bark as he spits out sharp commands to open the windows and clear out all the air from the room. Coughing, you gasp for fresh oxygen, suddenly becoming very aware of how fast your heart is racing. It thumps so hard and so forcefully inside of your ribcage that the noise reverberates loudly in your ears, overwhelming your senses. However, no amount of labored inhaling can free you from the toxic, vaporous gas; every molecule in your lungs has already been bombarded and completely overcome by the potionâs effects. As its intoxication takes hold of you, a wicked fever seems to roar within you, followed by a horribly slow heat that makes your limbs ache. Every orifice of your body is saturated by the miasmaâliquid slips between your lips, gushing down the front of your body to coat your exposed neck and chest. You taste the surprisingly sweet potion on the inside of your mouth; its taste lingers sweet and tacky on the flat of your tongue, coating your throat. You'd panic that you just consumed some horrific cocktail with traces of corrosion or stomach-rotting acid, if it weren't for the fact that Crewel seems more frustrated than concerned for your well-being. Rather than damaging you, whatever substance was expelled seems to be having quite the opposite effect; you feel your body becoming more energetic, your head becoming lighter, and a bubbling rush of warmth seems to radiate all over from the inside out, changing your physiology into a fertile garden in need of sowing. Adrenaline rushes through you and awakens your basal instincts, forcing you to acknowledge every excruciating detail of your body in an erotic manner. Arousal slithers through your veins like venom, poisoning all remaining thoughts and rationality, as a throbbing, almost blinding wave of pleasure overtakes your body. You become intensely, achingly aware of your physical needs, and all those needs center upon an impassioned desire to be filled, stretched, and seeded fullâthe frantic urge to be bred nearly splits you in half and makes your lower belly cramp in a hot flash of want. For a second, you hear Azul stutter something to you, his voice wavering on the verge of cracking with the desire that the aphrodisiac had triggered. You lock eyes with Azul, pupils blown wide as lust makes his oceanic gaze shimmer. The front of his slacks have grown embarrassingly tight with the straining girth of his aroused cock. You meet his clouded eyes, almost embarrassed by your wanton thoughts and the desperate throbbing between your thighs.
It is only a split second of recognition, a blurry, sweaty haze of unfathomable passion, before your shared moment is interrupted. Crewel shouts at you to look him in the eyes, snapping you out of your sexual frenzy, even if only for a split second. He stares at you, his gray-streaked hair framing the contoured features of his face as he cocks an eyebrow. The elder gives your flushed skin and trembling body a once-over.
"Just as I thought. It's a dopamine-based aphrodisiac. At least nothing fatal or life threatening, but enough to send you both into a delirious, euphoric-fueled rut," he assesses calmly, unfazed. "What's more, the way the explosion altered the structure of the compound has made its properties even more potent and uncontrollable. In terms you incompetent pups will understand, we're past the stage of antidote or reprieve, and you both have mere moments before the hormones will reach maximum capacity and you two will need to find some private location to release the effects..." He trails off. From his expression, you can tell there is more he would like to add to the situation, yet a worrisome crinkle furrows his brow as his eyes remain on Azul, as though assessing whether the situation is really as under control as he wishes. "Both of you bad dogs listen carefully. Do not even dare to even breathe a word of what transpired hereâyou are to wait in isolation for five to eight hours until its effects wear off. Under no circumstances should you share physical contact with anyone else for the remainder of the day." He holds Azul's gaze longer than necessary, silently threatening him not to take advantage of this situationâbut Azul seems far too caught up in the spell and too infatuated by the burning image of you, sweating, panting, and splayed before him.
"Should anyone at all realize that the two of you have taken any sort of love potion or been afflicted in this manner, it could create a massive scandal, and I'll punish you both so mercilessly for causing such an indiscretion, you'll be licking my boots in front of the entire school!" his deep voice booms in threat. "Have I made myself understood, dear pets?" Crewel snaps, the sting of his whip making both you and Azul wince and nod profusely. He leads you and Azul to the decontamination area of the lab, ushering you two into separate stalls so you can change into fresh, dry garments and wipe off the evidence of the explosion from the potion. When you both emerge, it takes Crewel less than a second to glance from the massive bulge straining against Azul's clothing, to where your heaving, quivering chest is spilling over the low neckline, your nipples hard and pressing obscenely through the thin fabric. He glares down his nose at the two of you in distaste.
"Five to eight hours," he hisses, eyes narrowing, almost sizing you and Azul up like he's waiting for one of you to give in to the pressure of the aphrodisiac. He throws open a back door, gesturing for you and Azul to disappear. Azul leaves first, a flushed, jumbled mess of conflicting emotions that are only intensified as he can feel every agonizing beat of his aroused heart pulse in the heat of his hard dick. You follow closely behind, but before you can cross the doorway, Crewel shoots his hand out to grip you by the upper arm, turning you to him as he towers over you, giving you an intense glare before sighing and pulling a small vial of bluish, iridescent potion from his bag and thrusting it into your hands.
"Since I know you won't be able to resist such a delectable temptation from that damn fishy bastard," his words drip with annoyance as he continues, "at least be safe, Pup. Go have a nice screw if that's what you really desire. The serum I just gave you is a contraceptiveâjust one sip and you will have full reproductive control, in case Azul isn't a decent man about his desires." You blink up at him in utter bewilderment. "Under no circumstances will I allow my star pupils to fall prey to the temptations and consequences of unprotected intimacy in the midst of this reckless hormone rush... I can't allow something like this to affect you or your ambitions. My students can only go to greater places." You feel his eyes burning with concern as he brushes your cheek, sending you a warning in his eyes and urging you to please think it through and consider it. "You are interested in Azul, are you not? I won't allow you to get involved in anything you don't consent to. If you don't feel safe, I can escort you straight to Ramshackle dorm and I will handle Ashengrotto myself." His stare, once cold and imposing, is now warm with protective care, as he looks you up and down with a gentle softness you didn't expect from your professor. The paternalistic expression on his face strikes your soul and pulls on your heartstrings a bit. After all, it's the type of support you feared was lost to you once you found yourself trapped in Twisted Wonderland with no hope of ever seeing your family again. With all the gentleness of a father, he squeezes your shoulder and gazes deeply into your eyes. You assure him that it's okay, you trust Azul. Nodding, your professor finally allows you passage out the door.
You had barely made it beyond the courtyard doors before Azul approached you with a sickly sweet, almost giddy look on his face. His steel-blue irises burned bright with anticipation, accompanied by a hint of something dark and salacious flickering in the shadows. The corners of his lips pulled taut, curling upward in a devious smile. A tremulous shudder passed through you and prickled up your spine at the thought of those hypnotizing eyes studying you while you lay enraptured beneath him, completely at his mercy. As he takes a few tentative steps toward you, his right hand glides and rests softly on your hip, making you gasp with surprise, your heartbeat fluttering and pounding deafeningly in your ears. Azul leans close to your ear, his breath coming out in hot, rapid pants, a carnal excitement that threatens to spill over and devour you whole. You swallow in nervous expectation, hardly daring to look into his lustful gaze. With his elegant index finger, he lifts your chin up and you are left gasping and flushed beneath him, lips parted to beg him for more as his gentle caress lingers. He flashes a devilishly handsome smile before tracing your lower lip with a seductive slowness. "Please, allow me to escort you back to Octavinelle where I can properly tend to you and your condition," the breathiness of his voice and his lack of composure cause your clit to throb, your inner walls pulsating, pleading to be stretched and ravaged. His lecherous advances and insinuations combined with the aphrodisiac coursing through your veins is making you so aroused, even standing close to him is threatening to make you cum. The very fabric of his essence seems to burn a shade darkerâthere is a terrifying intensity to his ardent desire for you, yet also a rawness and exposure you hadn't seen on his usually suave and polished facade.
Your whole body flushes when your gaze lands upon the size of his aching erection, an impressive tent straining tightly against his immaculate slacks, begging for attention through the dark material of his trousers. There is a manic, primal gleam that's spreading rapidly across his entire visage; he looks rabid with uncontainable greed, and you shudder at the thought that Azul will use your body to satisfy his own dark and twisted curiosities. "Please... It's the least I could do. After all, our most unfortunate situation is all due to my own recklessness," Azul pleads. His tone of voice is unwaveringly convincing in its sweet charm, yet you cannot escape the licentious twinkle that betrays his intentions, eyes ablaze with passion and lips quivering at the thought of making you his forever.
"Please... Just let me serve you and tend to your every whim," he begs. Even though the tone of his voice suggests innocence, you're reminded once more that Azul Ashengrotto believes the true intent in a plea is only to benefit his own ambitionsâhow ironic, then, that you find yourself overwhelmed with the desire to listen to the velvety cadence of his whispered sweet-nothings until you orgasm multiple times around the girth of his hard dick. Before you can speak, he reaches out and threads his fingers between your own. It was impossible to say no to the lilting honey of his tone, nor was there any will to fight as his firm and commanding hands ushered you towards the teleportation door. He practically pulls you into the mirror with him, and with a twinkly, delighted laugh, his covetous hand grasps you harder than ever as the portal draws closer, his eyes and touch almost reverentialâeager, desperate, craving. The surface of the mirror swallows both of you up as the shadows distort the edges of your vision. The whole world spins around you both before the smell of the sea overwhelms your sensesâthe crispness of ocean air fills your lungs, and a feeling of cool relief washes over your flushed skin. In seconds, Azul is shoving you into an elevator and hitting the button to his suite. When the metal doors slide open, he gently shuffles you forward as he urges your body closer and closer toward his bedroom.
After his dorm door slams shut, your bodies mindlessly work to free the other's of their pesky and offending clothing, eager and restless fingers tearing and ripping at each article as though your lives depended on it. As each piece of clothing is discarded on the floor, new heated skin presses desperately into another as your erotic moans reverberate through the air. It feels electric, the way your sensitive, exposed bodies seek each other out, pawing and grasping at any available flesh and kissing any naked skin you can reach. Your hot, yearning mouth hungrily seeks Azul's for an urgent, feverish kissâit is sloppy, desperate, almost savage as you share the intensity of your lusty feelings, gasping into each other's mouths, sucking, nibbling, tasting the sweet and sticky aphrodisiac concoction still lingering on both of your tongues. When Azul finally sheds his trousers, his painfully erect member juts out, throbbing and eager, bouncing happily and proudly as it quivers with eagerness. His knees weaken at the sudden release of the tension he'd suffered since the accident, the air a bit brisk against the heat of his erection, which begs to nestle itself securely into an inviting heat and fill your womb with the lusty seed it desires to spurt forth. His cock is ruddy and reddened, and his sack hangs swollen and tight with pent-up pressure. He doesn't think it possible for it to throb and swell even larger, yet its angry head and veins grow dark and twitch from his hot blood pumping. His hand mindlessly falls to his cock, and at the first stroke to his aching member, a needy whine catches in his throat. There is no time for shyness or apprehension. Whatever spell you were both under was driving you forwardâlike two planets caught in the gravity of an irresistible force, each gravitationally pulled toward the other with no means to stop. The rational part of his brain has been overwhelmed by an urgent instinct. Azul knows without a shadow of doubt that the only cure for this overwhelming haze of sexual depravity is to thrust himself deep inside the hot, velvety cunt of his precious lab partner.
Next thing you knew, you were pushed roughly, falling backwards before connecting against the smooth, luxurious blankets covering his mattress. He follows eagerly, letting his entire weight drop against your form and trapping your supple body beneath his. It was then, right then, when Azul found that the feeling of his aroused cock pressing against your thigh was unbelievably divineâa warm and pleasant tingling sensation spreading all over his hot, hard shaft and emanating out from his loins. With a contented hum, Azul can't resist the urge to buck his hips against your warm skin, stroking his arousal a little further, groaning at the exquisite friction. What a delicious sight you areâall nude and arousedâsplayed and exposed across his bed. The effects of the potion have left you looking thoroughly wrecked, legs open, dripping and hot with an aroma so alluring, it nearly knocks the air out of his lungs. You are positively lovely, just as he'd always dreamed, with your petals unfurled and beckoning, enticing him further and drawing him in as your soft moans coaxed his cock in closer. To see you writhing and panting, the flush of your skin as you burned with longing for him...it was exactly as he'd always wanted it, almost as though someone had crafted the perfect image just to fulfill his darkest wishes. A surge of erotic fantasy comes upon him, and Azul's breath hitches in his throat as he ponders, briefly, about your womb filled with his seed, his beautiful angelfish round with child. He wants nothing more than to unceremoniously bury himself as deep within as he can, to push his thick, pulsating shaft as far as you could manage and stay buried to the hilt for days. His body quivers with excitement as a particularly vulgar dream reenters his mind. He had longed, always, to possess a most lascivious power over youâthe power to make you writhe and squirm in bliss, and more importantly, in total and unbreakable dependence and submission for himâthe neediest, sluttiest mess imaginable. Perhaps he'd have to thank Grim later for consequentially bringing about this fortunate chain of events.
Azul begins stroking himself fully, unabashed in his view of the sight before him. You don't protest the show. In fact, a high pitched, whimpery moan escapes you as you bite into your thumb to stifle the volume, but the sound is not missed, the harsh pang in his cock proof enough. After some thought, he realizes that he much preferred when you had been writhing and moaning quite uninhibitedly a moment earlier. You shift uncomfortably underneath his heated gaze as his eyes drink in every little curve, every little wrinkle and fold of your dripping pussy. Your toes curl inward and the ache deep within you demands attention. "You're so perfect, my little angelfish. Your body is exactly as I imagined," his saccharine voice admits as he leans forward, letting his fingers dance across the swell of your breasts. His left hand cradles your jaw and throat as his right continues its delicate massage across the plush pillow of your breasts, toying with the perked nubs of your nipples as his thumbs swirl small circles against the delicate flesh.
Azul's gentle touch ignites flames under his fingertips that follow his descent down to the juncture of your legs. The first brush against your swollen bundle of nerves and slit has your spine arching upwards, making his cock throb even more painfully, stiffening under the visual of your trembling body. A whine escapes and your hips grind involuntarily, the heat building intensely as his fingers begin to experimentally spread your folds slowly, running the tip of a finger from your core to the hood of your pearl. Without warning, Azul swipes upwards, expertly pulling back the hood and exposing the raw, sensitive flesh of nerves underneath, pinching down on the fleshy bud and causing you to yelp loudly in shock. With a satisfied grin, his forefinger begins to toy and tweak the hardened bud, rubbing gentle, rhythmic patterns over and over against the bundle as a chorus of delightful, high-pitched squeals fill his dormitory. After a few more ministrations, his hands continue down, delving his fingers straight into the moistened and heated opening, swiping up the slick mess you had coated his palm in. Two long fingers deftly slip right between your folds, caressing their way around your labia, your wet walls clenching around his fingertips desperately. "This wetness, for me?" Azul chuckles wickedly, crooking his fingers upward and brushing your g-spot with a knowing curl of his fingers, sending you spasming, gasping, and writhing in ecstasy, eyelashes fluttering wildly. "Oh, my dearestâso precious, my angelfish. That's it, so beautiful, just for me..." His voice drips with lecherous intent, his body moving without even the slightest hint of hesitation as though you were merely an extension of his own and not even a separate entity. Your wetness coats his fingers easily as Azul keeps sliding his fingers into your wet heat until the pads of his fingers touch all your deepest, hidden places, causing more sweet moans to fall from your lips and echo through his room. He scissors and curls his digits inside, stroking you slowly as though wanting to feel every bump, crease, and ridge along your walls, claiming his ownership over your deepest parts with a sinister delight.
A pressure builds and teeters precariously right at the precipiceâthe curling of his digits work feverishly to milk every drop of pleasure he can from your shuddering body, the warm flood of wetness drenching his eager fingers and making his head fall back with a sensuous moan. He continues with his relentless assault against your pussy, whispering filthy compliments about how badly he wanted to fuck you and how sexy it is when you take his fingers so well. Your legs flutter open wider, inviting his slim and nimble digits deeper within you, fucking them vigorously as your release begins to pool, rising closer to the boiling point. The aphrodisiac grips its poisonous talons deeper into your mind, warping and bending everything into an unshakable desire to submit yourself and your pleasure to the hands of the devious sea creature above you. He leans down, his silvery eyes roving over your face in an intense appraisal, his features drawn in with concentration, mapping out how to unravel youâthere wasn't an emotion or micro expression that slipped past his vision as he carefully considered all the factors of how best to please and overwhelm your body with incomparable rapture. There isn't anything else beyond the presentâno outside forces, nor worries about the consequences of being intimate. There's simply no room in your mind to think at this point, the cloudiness of the effects rendering your body vulnerableâyou give yourself up entirely. He drinks up every breath, every shake and shiver, as he continues calculating your climax, relishing in each tiny noise or action he drew from you, meticulous with the acquisition of your bliss.
"Yes. Give in." he laughs maniacally, his face fully consumed in the intense madness of his lustful insanity. "Give in to every sensation. Let me drive you wild... Do as I command and cum," Azul demands you through his laughter, his breathing rapid and heavy as he watches your eyes rolling back. He moans in awe as the loud, slick sounds of his hand filling your soaking cunt meet his ears and a deep flush travels across his collarbones. His own needy cock leaks, eagerly anticipating what's next as its engorged state bulges obscenely, its every vein throbbing with virile desperation. Your high-pitched moans continue for some time as his pace stays fast, until you can finally feel your entire body tensing up, the fire coiling inside your gut ready to explode any moment. Everything builds higher and higher to the peak, every muscle and nerve fiber in your body primed to receive that last push that would send you catapulting over the cliff. As he feels your walls tremble, Azul moans along with your high-pitched wailing. A deranged smile stretches across his face and his silver eyes fill with amusement and fascination.Â
Azul leans into your ear, whispering sweet nothings mixed with commanding, demanding words to finally succumb, "That's it...Let go..." He twists and digs deeper, stroking the perfect places inside you, hitting the correct spots relentlessly in an overload of mind-bending, debauchery-fueled, electric-spark pleasure, forcing your senses to dissociate from reality. His thrusting hand matches the frantic racing of his own heart, unable to keep the carnal fever down. "Give in... submit yourself fully, and surrender that orgasm. It's mine. I've worked for it, and now it belongs only to me." He whispers in a devilish growl, nibbling on your ear as his strokes become rougher, harder, fasterâyou can hardly stand the overwhelming force of your pleasure before its sweet relief crashes like waves. A broken moan leaves your mouth, a pure exaltation of uncontrolled passion. Noises come tumbling out and spilling over until you finally dissolve into a messy orgasm, shrieking his name in pleasure as his hand slows its motions but doesn't stop, keeping its pressure steady and rocking the whole of your existence until your mind goes blank. "Such a good, obedient angelfish, giving me all of your sweet, succulent cum... all for me, yes?" Azul hums sweetly, teasingly. "Oh, this is so precious," he sighs, feeling the quaking and trembling of your fluttering walls. His expression melts into one of deep satisfaction and pride.
"There you go, my lovely angelfish. Just as I said I would," Azul croons. Without another word, his hand, wet with your desire, abandons its ministrations, pulling from your depths with a slick pop, leaving your empty cunt to tremble from his absence. Azul brings his fingers to his mouth for a lewd taste test, licking the juices from his hand as a self-indulgent smirk plays upon his lips. As he rolls the digits around his tongue, sampling the essence of your cunt, a sharp groan rumbles deep from within his chest, the vibration coursing down his spine and directly into his throbbing member. Even as his breath grows heavy from the feeling of his needy cock, the smug, triumphant smirk doesn't disappear. He enjoys the honeyed, tangy sweetness and savors the lingering sensation on his taste budsâanother string attached, making it utterly impossible for him to let go. A low chuckle is heard from deep in his chest, dark and hauntingly mirthful. From his pleased sigh, you could easily read the insatiable hunger growing within his gleaming eyesâclearly the lust in his loins has only been ignited furtherâa starving, manic beast hungry for even more from your yielding form, an insatiable craving that can't be satiated so easily. His cock visibly twitches, begging for him to mount you and thrust his painfully aroused length as far as he can manage deep into your eager, spasming pussy. The aphrodisiac courses through his veins with all the potency of a tropical storm, whipping every nerve into a frenzy as the instinct takes hold in Azul's most primordial thoughts and drives all those cravings with an irrepressible urgencyâhe simply has to get your pregnant. Azul's cheeks flush with a reddish-pink shade as he fixates on you, the hunger in his gaze absolutely feral, filled with a single-minded lustful determination to breed you.
When your eyes meet his maddened, love-struck stare, you are overcome with the same desperation radiating from your womb, urging to be stuffed and claimed by his thick load. At last, the two of you had connected in this all-consuming fireâa conflagration of desire so severe and a love so encompassing that both of you could do nothing more than dance on the ashes and burn with the flames. In that moment of recognition, an irresistible, bewitching aura emanates from him and mesmerizes you as the air of mystery dissipates from his visage, the eroticized specter of the fearsome and dangerous, devious mogul melts away to reveal the raw intensity of the young man underneath, exposed in all his ardent, unfettered passions. Here stands Azul, naked with vulnerability, desiring only a love that no other has been able to truly give. He's always tried to prevent access to his real emotions, afraid of the kind of cruelty they would reap upon him if they were found. He didn't believe himself to be worthy of their regard, let alone capable of receiving someone's genuine affections. With you, though, there were none of his signature theatrics, no polite deflection, nor charming evasiveness; he gave you full permission to view him and all of his repressed feelings on full display. An open book, Azul trusts you enough to expose his heart fully, so transparent in his neediness. Since he brought you to his bedroom, there was never the slightest hint of deception in his toneânot once had he attempted to distract you, nor used a tactic or trick. Perhaps his true intentions for getting close to you were more admirable than you thought, his desperation to get close to you was merely just a pining for your love rather than a sordid trick. His earnest, loving gaze, combined with the grip of your desire, makes something finally shift within, like the turning of the tideâa sense that it was fated for you to fall and crash so desperately, madly, and completely for himâa long-awaited inevitability, just as he had already done for you long before this Alchemy accident. Azul was an adoringly gentle yet brutally powerful force, a pillar in your life you can lean into without hesitation. All of your fears, worries, and frustrations are suddenly null, evaporating into the thin air of Octavinelle, carried into the gentle waters outside the window and disappearing into the seas.
Nothing is more erotic than seeing his carefully maintained veneer crumbling before you and letting himself fall apart at the seams. No longer hiding his desires or his ambitions for you, Azul's lusty hunger has you excited, aroused, and turned on like never before. You return his lustful, hazy expression and Azul is drawn right into the softness of your inviting stare. Your mouth parts to allow a needy moan to pass as you buck your hips slightly, inviting him to finally claim your body as his, a beautiful sacrifice you're eager to make for a beautiful siren such as him. With a deep, lewd groan, Azul pushes off your trembling body, propping himself onto his knees and groping at your chest, making you mewl. There's no trace left of the smooth businessman persona, not even a hint of it lingers when his wet mouth kisses at your mounds and his large hands explore the contours of your curves, his fingertips desperately memorizing the way you're put together, tracing every bit of available flesh. His eager tongue swirls at your peaked nipples, moaning in appreciation and delight. Your mind is being swallowed by a bubbling wave of bliss that has no end as his hand trails across your hips, his touch is as gentle as a ripple in the water. With a shyly embarrassed flush and a sigh of wanton abandonment, you surrender entirely to himâletting the sea creature drown you in ecstasy, deeper and deeper, into the endless ocean. He caresses your stomach gently, the calloused pads of his fingers exploring the sensitive skin where he knows your womb lies. Your heart stumbles as his lips twist upward in an impish smirk at the thought of all the cum he's soon going to pump straight into the cavity. He palms your belly, which would soon carry his progeny as an inevitable result of this union, imagining his angelfish's stomach rounded and taut with his unborn child, perhaps, even more than onceâAzul's thoughts are full of fantasies about filling you and fucking your pretty little womb over and over until he succeeds and you're blessed with his babies. Azul hums at the image of your pregnant body, worshiping the slope of your thighs and rubbing his hands up your waist and the undersides of your breasts. Azul knows that even if it doesn't work right away, he is more than prepared to breed you again and again as many times as necessary. He is more than certain you'll eventually give him a consortium of little octopus-human hybrids. After all, you'd offered yourself up in the end. Who was he not to take what was freely given?
He grasps the back of your knee to prop up your leg in the air, shifting closer. In one fell swoop, your tender thighs are flung open, revealing your glistening cunt. Azul moans, running the rough pad of his finger right up the slit of your lips. You're already a mess, his slick hand had not been able to satisfy your heat at all, it only created a further yearning deep within that could only be satisfied by his aching cock. Azul settles against the fronts of your thighs, letting the stiff heat of his bulging erection nestle against the dripping lips of your cunt, already poised and eager for insertion. The anticipation causes the two of you to tremble slightly at the intimacy, your lips wet and sticky as they run against the length, his cock drooling freely from the tip and leaking beads of sticky, precum fluid right across your folds. With one more affectionate, sweet peck against the corner of your lip, and another one right upon your forehead, Azul slowly glides inside. A shared cry of euphoria leaves your mouths simultaneously as Azul buries the full length of his throbbing cock into your sopping entrance, thrusting powerfully to hilt balls-deep. The pure, erotic rapture of finally consummating your love floods both of your veins. His dick is filling you in the most indescribable way and stretching your cunt so deliciously that stars appear behind your eyes. A glorious symphony of relief sings in your blood while his hard girth massages your innermost walls as though he were meant for no otherâlike he was perfectly made to be the puzzle piece filling your immaculate pussy. You both gasp sharply in unison as the sensation sends tremors down his shaft. Every vein, ridge, and inch of his length drags deeply with each thrust as he grinds you thoroughly, bringing your clits into tantric connection and rubbing the sensitive bundle of nerves back and forth in perfect time with the rocking motion. Each snap of his hip makes the two of you share a joyful sob as he pleasures you in the most divine manner.
A low and sinful groan passes through your lips as your hands grip him tighter, begging him to increase his momentum and pace. Azul's hands clutch you in a tight embrace, his chest to yours with every inch of his hardness fully embedded into your velvety passage, sending white-hot sparks of pleasure shooting to the deepest recesses of your innermost being, triggering the sudden rush of a climax that is starting to rise to its precipice. Azul groans as your juices run down his balls, pooling around his sack and providing more lubrication for his relentless drive inside of you. You clench and flutter around him, squeezing your inner walls with every desperate urge for friction and movement, drawing Azul's eye right up to yours in a lusty daze. His body is coiling for release, ready to cum, and there's a glitter of utter happiness in his expression. His lips quiver with desire and he smirks as he feels you clamping and spasming around his rock-hard dick, begging him to breed you like the little slut that he secretly knows you are, all while knowing deep down you'd get so unbelievably plump and swollen with his hatchlings, he'd hardly be able to move his tentacles with all the kids crawling over him.
It's more intense, and far more electrifying than the filthy fantasies that had invaded his sleep every lonely evening whenever he gave in to his insufferable yearning for you. He'd envisioned this, over and overâwhat it would feel like to make you orgasm, just how satisfying it would feel to cum with you at the same time, and how heavenly it would be to stretch your cunt so snuglyâand yet, in this moment, it surpasses his imagination exponentially, eliciting a complete flood of sensual pleasure all throughout his senses. Not even his wildest wet dreams had prepared him for the heady intoxication and undeniable high he experiences with youâbeing passionately and physically intertwined, wrapped around the most sublime euphoria that was possibleâa wave so dizzying that there's absolutely no going back to life without the other once your bodies have succumbed and reached that ultimate, highest peak.
When Azul hits the point of no-return, his legs start shaking as though his limbs were going to fall off. His fingers tangle roughly in your hair as he drags your mouth closer to meet his. With each heavy thrust, he swallows every moan that erupts from your throat. His movements become less coherent, rougher, and disjointed as the strength of your cunt's embrace pulses tightly around his shaft and urges him toward the edge. Suddenly, an intense wave of satisfaction takes hold and shoots to the tip of his cock, pulsating violently in need to release its seed. Azul can't help but groan loudly into your ear as he slams his cock into you with ferocious strength, fucking the life and soul right out of your being while a high-pitched scream accompanies the splash and squelching noises of your pussy. Your mouth has gone slack, jaw dropping as you cry out his name and climax with such power that it whips you into a complete frenzy of desperation, sending your vision dancing with lights. You quake and shiver under the force of his fervor and ecstasy, writhing on the mattress and throwing your head backward to soak in your overwhelming, toe-curling rapture. He buries his face into the crook of your neck, pounding you fiercely as you wail and shatter with a rush of emotions so intense, you don't know if you will ever put yourself back together. A strained whine and a few sharp pumps later, a surge of hot, wet euphoric heat shoots from Azul's balls and spurts out in ribbons of his own spent climax as he spends his load of pearly cum directly into your waiting womb, splashing your tight channel with a continuous streamâpainting every crevice of your silken, fluttering, vice-like depths a glossy white. Azul is unable to help himself as his hips start grinding into yours with slow rolls, fucking and stuffing every drop of his sticky cream deeply and ensuring it remains securely nestled in your folds. Every remaining bit of sexual tension floods out as though you'd been submerged in the most heavenly waterfall of pleasure imaginable. Azul whines weakly into the pillow and your moans join, eventually dissipating into a heavenly silence as you sink heavily back to reality.
Time slows to an almost stop and your vision gets a bit hazy and bleary as the aphrodisiac magic completely pulses away. You two lay side by side on the soft blankets, still in the bed and soaked with sweat. Neither of you move for quite some time. Just in the wake of your post-orgasm, everything becomes intensely surreal. You try to breathe quietly so Azul doesn't hear and as his head rests on your breasts. He, too, is heaving with difficulty, each inhale is a conscious decision. He clings tightly against you, hands threaded together like a lifeline, afraid to let go. One last sentence leaves his mouthâa whisper that could have easily been missed by anyone except for you. It was a question.
"Are we both in love?" Azul asks with such hesitance, you think maybe you've misheard his inquiry. He is lying right by your side. His face is dangerously close to yours, and the way his stormy, ocean azure eyes reflect every emotion swirling inside allows you to see the years of hurt that's plagued him. He's absolutely enchanted, like you are the perfect dream come trueâeverything he'd ever imagined in one living, breathing, precious human bodyâa lover so magnificent he could hardly comprehend. He studies your expression with awe and reverence. A look so intensely raw it burns right through your heart and lights up the space in your soul that you never before realized was reserved just for him. "Because I love you... Truly and deeply. So much that I don't know how it was possible, even," Azul admits freely, without the least hint of apprehension or nervousness. You can feel the intensity and honesty of his words radiate through his trembling fingertips, through the places where his naked skin touched yoursâhe doesn't try to mask the pure unadulterated warmth and delight that leaks through the shaky but firm expression on his flushed face.
A wide, cheerful and genuine grin breaks out against your features as you nod enthusiastically, and it is almost as though a heavenly, soothing light has poured over his entire world. It feels like a dream, a fairytale that is too good to be true. Yet here you both lie, doused in the magic of the concoction, clinging to each other and to that euphoric elation after giving in to the passions and the chemical bonds. It felt incredible, it felt natural and familiar and right. This wasn't anything artificial, rather the long overdue acknowledgement of feelings that were there all alongâa kindling of romance that was never forced, but rather fanned to life after many days spent as Alchemy partners. After seeing each other every day, getting to know each other's quirks, and learning of each other's daily habits, the intimacy had bloomed and nurtured into something tender and real. The closeness the potion provided simply allowed the two of you the confidence needed to step across a boundary and pursue things.
"This won't be something short lived... you understand what I am saying, yes?" His tone has a tinge of fear creeping in and you can't help but stroke the outline of his cheekbones. This feeling will not end with a simple fuck, you knew that deep in the marrow. There will be more of that to come. In fact, the thought of it has your cunt pulsing, your sex aching at the idea. "I simply won't have you anywhere else but with me, and here in my dorm. I just won't be able to be happy otherwise..." Azul's voice quivers as the vulnerable sincerity flows.
"Yes, Azul. Yes, I understand and I feel the exact same," you chuckle and cradle his head. His blue eyes crinkle slightly from the beam across his lips, and Azul can't resist pulling you in for a feverish kiss, groaning from the rush. That familiar, sinfully blissful high is starting to take hold again, the rush of the aphrodisiac stirring something fiery back into a pleasant burn. The chemicalâs grip on the two of you continues. After all, nothing will stop the magic from bringing you closer together. He murmurs a seductive promise into the curve of your throat that he won't stop until his load drips and slides right out of your swollen cuntâhe's going to breed you the rest of the night and spill as much of himself deep within as he can. He has no doubt you're going to give him a child that will cement this loving bond permanently.
Listen I don't know HOW this HAPPENED, I DON'T understand how I wrote this much. I am DELIRIOUS and I need to go pick up some pizza for dinner, so I wish I could say more here but I can't right now. I'll update this part when I get back home. I just needed to get this out into the UNIVERSE. THANK YOU ALL!!! HOPE YOU ENJOYED!!! <3333 Erica Malleleothreesome
#twisted wonderland x reader#twst x reader#twisted wonderland smut#twisted wonderland x reader smut#twst smut#twst x reader smut#twst azul ashengrotto x reader smut#twst azul ashengrotto smut#twisted wonderland azul x reader smut#azul ashengrotto x reader smut#twst azul ashengrotto#azul ashengrotto smut#twst azul#twisted wonderland azul x reader#azul ashengrotto#twisted wonderland azul#azul x reader#my writing
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(SHEâS) JUST A PHASE CHAPTER SIX: sheâs my collar
masterlist
i made a playlist for this specific chapter! check it out
cw - very suggestive, mentions of alcohol/club scene, mature themes !
âFuck, itâs cold,â Nobara muttered as she emerged from the sleek black Mercedes, the sharp click of her heels echoing on the pavement. She instinctively wrapped her arms around herself, a futile attempt to fend off the biting chill that cut through the night air.
You pulled your faux cheetah-print coat tightly around herself, desperately seeking any warmth to stave off the biting cold. The regret of wearing a mini skirt settled heavily in your chest as the chill seeped through the fabric.
A biting breeze swept through the group as they piled out of the car, their breath visible in the crisp air. They made their way toward the building illuminated in vibrant LED lights, the name "Aphrodite" glowing in an elegant script above the entrance.
Your gaze fell on the line, a serpentine stretch of eager faces winding around the block and bending around a corner. âThe line is so fucking long, bro,â you groaned, frustration lacing your voice.
âDonât worry,â Panda replied absently, his eyes glued to the screen of his phone, fingers tapping away with a rapid rhythm.
Maki arched an eyebrow, her attention shifting to Panda. âYuta is here too,â she said, a teasing note in her tone.
You opened your mouth, ready to ask if that meant anything significant, but your question was abruptly cut off by a loud, boisterous shout.
âBRO!â a familiar voice rang out, echoing through the night. A white-haired boy emerged from the shadows, his vibrant presence lighting up the crowd.
He approached Panda, effortlessly slipping into a familiar handshake that you had witnessed countless times before. Next, he turned to Maki and Nobara, greeting them with warm, polite hugs, each one filled with camaraderie.
Then, his gaze settled on you, his eyes assessing you from head to toe. He stepped closer, wrapping you in a longer embrace, leaning in to whisper, âYou look good.â The words lingered in the air as he pulled away, a playful smirk dancing on his lips.
Turning back to the bouncer, he declared confidently, âTheyâre with me.â With a gentle tug, he took your hand, guiding you and the group inside, where the warmth and energy of the club settled, wavered to meet them.
As they stepped inside, a wave of warmth and pulsating music flooded over them, wrapping around you like a comforting embrace. Your gaze was immediately drawn to a figure dressed entirely in black, standing near the entrance, seemingly lost in concentration as he studied something written on a piece of paper.
You noticed two beauty spots nestled just above his eyebrows, creating an intriguing contrast against his sharp features. âHuh,â you thought to yourself, curiosity piqued.
Finally, he looked up, his eyes meeting theirs. A subtle smile curved his lips as he offered them a nod, granting approval for them to venture further into the vibrant atmosphere of the venue.
âYujiâs been so excited to see you again, Yn,â Toge slurred, his words slightly fuzzy, hinting at the drinks he had already indulged in.
They navigated through the bustling crowd to the VIP booth, where three silhouettes lounged comfortably in deep, luxurious velvet seats, their relaxed postures radiating a carefree vibe.
âYn!â the pink-haired figure shouted, bounding over with infectious energy. He enveloped you in a warm hug, the scent of his cologne mingling with the rich aroma of the venue. Behind you, the others dispersed, finding their place among the group with casual ease.
âGod, itâs been so long! You look incredible!â he exclaimed, stepping back to admire her. You couldnât help but smile brightly at the compliment. But as you turned to respond, your gaze inadvertently drifted over his shoulder. There, a familiar figure leaned casually against the wall, his eyes fixated on you. He drank you in, the intensity of his stare making her heart race, even as he casually swigged from his beer, a hint of mischief playing on his lips.
âCome on, we need to take our traditional six shots!â Yuji said with infectious enthusiasm, grasping your hand and leading you through the thrumming crowd toward the bar. He slid onto a barstool, gesturing for you to join him with an inviting smile.
As he chatted cheerfully with the bartender, his energy radiated around you. He ordered the customary six shots for both of you, but your thoughts drifted back to Megumi and the way he had been staring earlier. Was it just the atmosphere, or did he really look that good? Hold onâwere you actually finding him attractive? The guy who seemed like he spent too much time watching stepcest?
â...up.â You snapped back to reality at Yujiâs voice. Looking up, you were met with his bright, doe-like light brown eyes, sparkling with excitement. In front of you stood an array of colorful shotsâtwelve, to be exact each one a different hue, glinting invitingly in the barâs dim light.
âBOTTOMS UP!â he shouted, already downing his first shot. A playful smirk spread across your face; there was no way you were going to let him finish first. You swiftly tossed back the first shot, the bitter liquid searing the back of your throat, but it was a thrill that sent warmth coursing through you. This was light work.
With each shot, the world around you faded into a kaleidoscope of sounds and colors. You quickly moved through the shots, feeling the exhilarating buzz rise within you. Soon, you found yourself on your last one, placing the empty glass down and wiping your mouth with the back of your hand. You glanced at Yuji, who was just finishing his own final shot.
âStill canât outdo you yet, huh?â he said, his gaze lingering on you with a mix of admiration and playful challenge.
Just as you opened your mouth to respond, a hand pressed firmly against your back, sending a jolt of surprise through you. The warmth of the touch felt intimate, and you turned slightly to find a figure looming behind you. A husky voice cut through the air, rich and smooth, as it said, âCan I borrow her for a second?â The tone was both commanding and playful, drawing your attention away from Yuji and into the mystery of the newcomer.
The air around you was instantly infused with the intoxicating scent of the mystery manâs cologneâa deep, sophisticated aroma that reminded you of Maison Margiela. You turned to get a better look, your heart racing as you were met with his piercing green eyes, which seemed to draw you in.
Meanwhile, Yuji sat there, momentarily confused as he processed the situation, glancing between you and the newcomer. But with a shrug and a grin, he waved goodbye, calling out, âFind me later!â before making his way to the dance floor, his energy lighting up the room.
As Yuji disappeared into the crowd, Megumi smoothly slid into the spot where he had just been sitting. You rested your chin on your hand, your gaze fixed on him with a mixture of curiosity and challenge.
âI hope youâre here to apologise,â you said playfully, flicking away an invisible speck from the counter. He met your gaze with a smirk that seemed to reveal a mix of amusement and confidence. Was that his go-to expression? Because right now, it was definitely starting to look punchable.
âApologise for what? The truth?â he replied, his voice dripping with confidence as he raised his hand to catch the bartenderâs attention, eager for a shot.
âSlut-shaming isnât a good look for your reputation,â you countered, letting out a frustrated sigh. He was undeniably attractive, but the way he spoke was quickly drying up your pussy and killing your mood.
âIntrigue me, Yn,â he said, his sultry tone wrapping around you like a warm breeze. He leaned in closer, his lips brushing against your ear, sending a shiver down your spine.
âIf I fuck you tonight, what number will that make me?â
Your breath catches in your throat, and you silently pray he doesnât notice. Just then, the bartender sets the shot down between you, and you seize the opportunity to reclaim the upper hand.
You grip his jaw, guiding his face closer until your lips are mere centimeters apart. You glance between his lips and his eyes, feeling the tension crackle in the air.
âOh, baby, donât you know? I donât fuck virgins,â you whisper, releasing your grip on his face as you down his shot and head toward the dance floor.
You weave your way toward the dance floor, each step a little unsteady as the pulsating music and vibrant lights overwhelm your senses. The crowd swells around you, a sea of bodies moving in sync, but the energy feels like too much to handle. Frustration and anger churn inside you. Fuck that was your seventh shot. You were no longer thinking with your head but with your vagina instead.
You weave through the pulsating crowd, your gaze searching for the perfect target. When did you become so needy? Finally, you spot the familiar salmon-haired boy from earlier, and a smile flickers across your lips. âAt least itâs not a stranger this time,â you think, navigating through the bodies that sway and jostle around you.
As you approach, an unexpected wave of self-doubt washes over you. Was he always this tall? His shoulders seem broader, more defined, and the tattoos that snake down his arms catch your eyeâwhen did he get those? You dismiss the thoughts, blaming the alcohol for your hazy perception.
Raising yourself onto your toes, you gently tap him on the shoulder, but the moment he turns around, a rush of regret floods in. His imposing figure towers over you, and a sense of horror grips your chest as you realise this is definitely not Yuji.
âDoll?â his deep voice resonates, cutting through the din of the club, leaving you momentarily speechless as you look up, caught off guard by the intensity of his gaze. You freeze. You canât move. Why canât you move?
The all-too-familiar pet name washes over you, and a torrent of memories floods your mind, each one more vivid than the last. Tears prick at the corners of your eyes, threatening to spill over. Suddenly, you feel hands grip your shoulders, pulling you away from the man, away from the chaotic atmosphere of the club, and guiding you outside into the cool night air.
As you slip into the car, the reality hits you: Nobara, Maki, and Panda are all there, their concerned faces surrounding you. In an instant, the dam breaks, and you begin to bawl, the emotions youâve kept buried for so long surging to the surface like a tidal wave. You lean your head into Makiâs lap, feeling the comforting weight of her presence as she gently brushes your hair back from your face.
Nobaraâs soothing touch caresses your skin, her fingers rubbing your back in gentle circles. âShhh, let it out,â she murmurs softly. âYouâre safe with us now.â Their unwavering support wrapping around you like a warm blanket, allowing you to release the pent-up feelings that had been longing for freedom. And then, just like that, darkness fills your vision.
extras!
âą the aphrodite nightclub was a reeference dedicated to my beloved ree and her hq series âpoker faceâ you should definitely check it out here! @aozui thank u once again <3
âą omi sneak in there if you squint
âą i imagine aphrodite having the same vibe as the percy jackson casino scene highkey
âą hm what does spotify have planned out with tridant i wonderâŠ
âą madagascar 3 is my shit guys i would watch it RELIGIOUSLY (maybe i am yn guys idk)
âą why does the whole band want us idk weâre just hot like that
âą itâs all platonic though guys trust LMFAO
âą solstice is a reference to my upcoming spiderman kuroo au btw shhhh #shamlesspromoter
âą i threw in the toge and panda texts just for fun LMFAO
âą a lot of tridantâs gc texts were actually me and abiâs twitter texts LMFAO (ily abi)
âą toge is never crowd surfing again after tonight.
âą their set was a total of 1 hour and 49 minutes long (yn secretly enjoyed it and was lowkey fangirling)
âą guys i had a field day with the written portion SPECIFICALLY THAT ONE QUOYE
âą i hope u all listened to the playlist <3 (pls itâs important)
âą ynâs ex isâŠ. SUKUNA?
âą to beepboplorpzâs ask thatâs still in my inbox currently abt when sukuna would debut HERE HE ISđ
âą sukunaâs backstory will be mentioned in the next following chapters..
âą panda saw yn going to sukuna and INSTANTLY went to intervene #truefriendeventhohesfat
âą yn blacked out in the car if it wasnât obvious
âą megumi was lowkey searching for her on the floor because he thought he was too harsh on her (he cared)
a/n: sorry the chapter is a bit behind schedule but itâs so worth itđ this was fan service for the thirsty megumi asks so i hope you all eat this up because it took me so long to perfect !! anyways itâs still sunday so it does count⊠see yall next weekend!! <3 (apologies to my beta readers i was in a rush and wanted this one out but trust im returning back to schedule next week!!)
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REMORSE
SUMMARY: He doesn't realize how valuable you are until he loses you.
Things could have been different. If he had stayed home, you would still be alive. You would still be aliveâŠ
''My love⊠p-please donât go''
Gojo froze in his tracks, feeling your delicate arms wrap around his waist from behind. Despite himself, a small flicker of surprise coursed through him, momentarily halting his steps towards the door. Your trembling voice reached his ears, filled with desperation and a plea for him to stay.
"I-I will prepare a dinner for you, my love⊠p-please donât go,â you whispered, your lips pressing softly against his back in a tender kiss.
For a brief moment, the gentle touch and your plea tugged at a minuscule fragment of buried empathy within him. However, he quickly squashed that flicker of compassion.
He twisted his body to face you, his expression turning cold and unyielding once again under his blindfold. He roughly pushed your arms away from his waist, forcing you to release her grip on him. The action was swift and unforgiving.
âYour feeble attempts to keep me wonât work, y/n.â he spat, his voice laced with cruel indifference. âI have no use for your pitiful displays of affection. I am leaving.â
He turned away from you, resolute in his decision. He regretted his words at the moment he saw the pain and sadness in your eyes. But he couldnât show it, he couldnât show any sign of weakness.
After all, he was the strongest
With a last glance, he walked towards the door and left you. As he crossed the threshold, his heart remained hardened, untouched by the anguish he left behind.Â
...
He was a terrible husband. He didnât pay any attention to you. But he wanted to change that, so he bought you a bouquet to make it up to you, and today he was going to take you out to dinner. He was going to fix everything, you were going to be happy together.
âMy sweet wifey~, I thought we could have dinner today, husband and wifeââ
Upon entering the house, Gojo was met with an eerie silence that sent a chill down his spine. The door wide open, the lights on â everything seemed off. As he stepped further inside, his heart raced, confusion clouding his thoughts. The scent of carnage enveloped him, the heavy air thick with tension.
Then he found you.
Lying lifeless on the floor, your limbs twitching slightly as the waning moments of your life escaped from you. Blood pooled beneath you, the crimson liquid staining the once pristine floors with its haunting presence. A profound sorrow washed over him, accompanied by a wave of guilt â a bitter taste in his mouth.
The flowers he had intended to apologize with dropped from his grasp, the vibrant colors now tainted by the horrifying scene unfolding before his eyes. He watched in horror as you struggled for your last breaths, your fragile body betrayed by the curse that sought to end her life.
The irreversibility of the situation dawned on him at that moment - her fate was already sealed, your time running thin. Tears welled up in his eyes as realizations flooded his mind; regrets of his callous behavior, anger, and neglect came racing back and consumed his conscience.
If only he had stayed... if only he had paid attention.
Gojo fell to his knees beside you, reaching out tentatively to steady her limp form. âY/N. Stay with me,â he pleaded, a foreign word in his vocabulary. âPlease, donât go.â His tears fell in torrents, landing beside hers on the muddied ground.
âWho. Who did this to you-â
His hands shook as he cradled you close, your warm breath steadily fading in his embrace. The pain of losing you was like a dagger piercing his heart, a relentless torture he could never escape.
What was the point? What was the point of being the strongest if he couldnât even protect his wife?
At present
Gojo stands before your grave, a solemn figure with his head bowed low. The air holds a heavy silence, broken only by the soft rustle of leaves as a gentle breeze caresses the surrounding trees. The weight of his loss rests heavily upon his shoulders, his heart burdened with a mix of grief and regret.
âHey, itâs me again,â he murmurs, his voice choked with emotion as he addresses the earth beneath him. âI donât know if you can hear me, but I wanted to let you know⊠Iâm doing my best, even though it feels impossible without you here.â
His fingers trace the engraved letters of your name on the tombstone, his touch both reverent and pained. Memories of your time together flood his mind, each a bittersweet reminder of what he had lost. The weight of his remorse for not cherishing those moments to their fullest becomes evident in how his shoulders slump and his breath hitches.
âI miss you, more than words can express,â he admits, his voice breaking with raw vulnerability. âI wish I had realized sooner what you truly meant to me. I wish I had been a better husband and person for you⊠worthy of the love you had for me.â
His grip tightens on the flowers he brought, his knuckles turning white. He places them gently upon your grave, his gaze lingering upon the fading petals.
Tears glisten in his mismatched eyes, his voice barely more than a whisper now. âI love you, and I always will. Iâm sorry I realized this so late. Wherever you are, I hope youâve found peace. And just know⊠youâll forever have a place in my heart.â
With a final, lingering look at your tombstone, he puts the bouquet on your tombstone and turns away.
He will live a lifetime with the pain of ruining the perfect future he could have had with you.
#tw. dark content#gojo x reader#yandere gojo#gojo satoru#gojo saturo#jjk gojo#satoru#satoru gojo#jjk x reader#gojou satoru x reader#gojo angst#jujutsu gojo#gojo fluff#jujustu kaisen#jjk angst#angst with no comfort#jjk#jjk x you#jujutsu kaisen x reader#jujutsu kaisen x you#headcanons#anime x reader#anime x y/n
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a in anniversary is for apple pie! | cl16 smau
PAIRING: charles leclerc x wife!reader SUMMARY: charles and y/n return from their wedding anniversary dinner to find their daughter still awake and adamant about wanting the apple pie she was promised tonight! A/N: tysm for 500 followersđ„č pls accept this entirely sweet & happy fic as a token of my appreciationđ«¶
creds to @classiclitfreak for proofreading <3
â đđđđđđđ đđđĄđ... â
charles_leclerc
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charles_leclerc Happy wedding anniversary to my beautiful wife, Y/N. You hold my heart in the palm of your hands, but I couldn't imagine it safer anywhere else. I'm excited for more, mon cĆur đâ€ïž
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username wake up babe new photos of charles and y/n's secret wedding just dropped
username these crumbs are actually such nasty work smhđ© they're sick! username can't wait to see to finally see the whole wedding in 60 yearsđ„Č
username IS THIS TOO MUCH TO ASK FOR OMFG
yourusername iIy babyđ„°đ„°
charles_leclerc â€ïž username y'all are too cute đ€§ username I LOVE YOU GUYS SM!!!!
username still can't believe charles has a wife and it isn't međ
username oh to be called mon cĆur by charles leclerc...
username if you zoom in on the 3rd pic you'll see me face down in the oceanđ
username omg that makes two of us !! TWINNINGđ
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Fumbling, you struggle to insert the key into the lock, a task made unexpectedly difficult by your husband's impatience. His gentle kisses land on the nape of your neck, his soft whispers proving to be an unwelcome distraction. "Stop it! Can't you wait until we're inside?" you scold, attempting to maintain focus. But his arms remain securely wrapped around your waist, his affectionate gestures relentless. "Remember, we have to face the babysitter the moment we open the door."
"Mhm," Charles hums against your skin, his warm breath sending shivers down your spine and a suppressed smile to your lips. You curse silently at the six-inch heels you foolishly chose, your knees growing weaker with each passing second, the shoes only exacerbating the situation.
With a soft click, the door swings open, a rush of relief flooding through you as you silently thank your lucky stars. But before you can fully absorb the scene, the familiar sound of footsteps, accompanied by a beloved voice, reaches your ears.
"Maman!" Your daughter's enthusiastic embrace threatens to topple you as her tiny arms envelop your thighs. The warmth of Charles beside you momentarily dissipates as he steps back, a look of surprise crossing his features.
Running a hand through his beard, he gently tousles D/N's hair as he asks, "What are you doing up so late, love?"
Annie, your babysitter, interjects with a sheepish grin. "I'm sorry, I tried to get her to bed, but she insisted you guys were making apple pie tonight." She scratches the back of her neck, shrugging apologetically. "I did my best, but this little one is quite determined, as I've come to learn. Right, D/N?" Annie redirects her attention downward, addressing your daughter.
âYou promised me apple pie, Maman!â D/N's insistent plea rings out, her small fingers grasping the fabric of your dress. âAnd I want it now! I want it now! I want it now!â
Kneeling down to her level, you gently place a finger to your lips. âAlright, D/N, I can hear you, but not so loud. Remember, at night-time, we use our inside voice, okay?â Tenderly, you intertwine your hands with hers, tracing comforting circles on the back of her hands.
D/N nods solemnly and whispers, âYou promised me youâd make apple pie, and I want it now. Papa,â she turns her pleading gaze to Charles, releasing herself from your grasp and wrapping her arms around him. âIâve been waiting all day for this, please, Papa.â
Motioning for you to handle the situation with Annie, Charles scoops D/N up, settling her on his hip before disappearing down the hallway and into the kitchen.
You straighten up, offering Annie an apologetic smile. âIâm so sorry about that,â you say, reaching into your bag and retrieving an envelope labelled âAnnieâs payâ. With a gentle gesture, you extend your arm, offering it to her. âThis covers today, plus a tip, of course.â
Annie shakes her head, pushing the envelope back towards you. âI canât accept this. I mean, I failed at getting her to sleep.â
âWhat?â You try to keep your voice steady, but frustration seeps through. âNo, absolutely not.â Determinedly, you grasp her hand, pressing the envelope into her palm before folding it closed. âThis is your money; you showed up today and did amazing, as usual. I promised D/N something, so thatâs on me, really.â
She tilts her head, her brows furrowing slightly. âAre you sure, Mrs. Leclerc?â
You let out a hum. âHow many times do I have to tell you? Itâs just Y/N. None of that Mrs. stuff in this house, please,â you chuckle, âyou're making me feel old.â
âRight, sorry, Y/N,â Annie quickly corrects herself.
Satisfied, you nod. âWeâre getting there⊠But yes, I am absolutely sure. You deserve every single cent. Seriously,â you emphasise, âyouâre a huge help to my family.â
"Alright, thank you, Y/N," Annie retrieves her bag from the hook on the wall and opens the door. "Have a good night."
"You too, Annie. Thanks again."
With a sudden slam, the door startles you for a moment before you release a long breath. You kick off your heels, relieved to be free of the "death traps" as you call them. As your feet meet the cool marble floor, a wave of calm washes over you, releasing the tension from your shoulders. It's exactly what you needed. Feeling much better, you slip off your coat and hang it beside the door before making your way into the kitchen.
A short while laterâŠ
"Alright," you lean over the counter, your forearms resting on the cool top, a warmth spreading through your heart as you watch Charles holding D/N in his arms, gently swaying side to side as they dance.
"That's what your mum and I were doing after we finished eating," he whispers.
D/N's high-pitched giggles fill the room, her tiny hand gripping a couple of Charles' fingers. "I want to come next time," she says, turning her head towards you. "Please, please, can I come next time, Maman?"
"Yes," you smile, "of course. Next time, you'll join us for our little anniversary date, okay?"
"Yay!" your daughter raises her hands in excitement, her face beaming.
Recalling the original plan, you clap your hands together. "Alright, D/N, are you still sure you want apple pie tonight? Not tomorrow or the day afâ?"
"No, no, no!" she interrupts. "I want apple pie now!"
"Okay, okayâŠÂ Time to wash your hands then, honey."
D/N squirms in Charles' grip, and when he finally releases her, she races for the sink in the corner of the room, immediately flicking the tap on.
Charles chuckles at the sight before turning his attention to you, stepping closer. You straighten up from the counter just in time as his hands envelop you, trapping you between the counter and his body.
"Looks like our plans will have to wait until later, huh?" you whisper, your voice taking on a sultry tone as your fingers trail up his broad chest, halting on his black tie, starting to unravel it.
Charles leans down, his warm breath slipping into the gap between your parted lips, the sweet tinge of red wine coating your tongue. "Looks like it⊠But I can wait, mon cĆur," his voice resonates breathily as he closes the remaining distance between your faces, his soft lips meeting yours, hungry yet gentle. The kiss is brief, barely lasting long enough for you to savour the moment, though he captures your bottom lip between his teeth, tugging at it slightly before releasing his hold and pulling away.
Remembering your husbandâs earlier impatience when you were struggling to open the front door, you fold his tie and set it aside before raising a single brow, asking, âOh, can you now?â
Charles nods with a sly smile, but before he can respond, D/N beats him to it, diverting your attention as she waltzes towards you.
âHands are washed!â she exclaims, shaking her hands dry.
"Good job, darling." You slip from Charlesâ embrace, grabbing the kitchen roll off the counter and passing it to D/N. "Here."
Once you and Charles have washed your hands, you begin assigning roles. "Baby," you address your husband, pointing, "Youâll chop up the apples, and D/NâŠ" You tilt your head down at your daughter standing in the middle of the kitchen, her smile brimming with excitement. "Do you want to make the shortcrust pastry with me, honey?"
To your surprise, D/N shakes her head and rushes to Charlesâ side, her cheek pressed against him. "I want to do what Papa is doing. I donât want to work with you, Maman."
The admission elicits laughter from you and Charles, his chuckles resonating loudly through the room as D/N pulls open a few drawers and retrieves a butter knife and a chopping board before settling down at the dining table, her back turned to you.
As you turn around, you feel Charlesâ strong arms enclose around your waist, his warm hands settling onto your stomach as he whispers into your ear, "You heard the little lady. Everything's just so much more fun with her dad, you know?"
âShut the fuck upâ you quip, jabbing him with your elbow.
âI heard that!â
D/N's words cause you to pivot, fixing your gaze on the back of her head. âIâm sorry, D/N, I shouldnât have said that,â you concede, shooting a discreet glance at Charles. âItâs just that your father has a knack for being an annoying shââ You cut yourself off before the insult fully forms, forcing a tight-lipped smile as Charles's laughter reverberates. âLetâs just say, he can be an annoying husband sometimes, you know?â
âNo! Papa is never annoying, youâre wrong,â she counters, shooting you a reproachful look before redirecting her attention to Charles, waving. âCome on, Papa, I really want apple pie. Hurry up, Iâve already started!â
âComing, my love,â Charles murmurs softly, turning back to you and lifting your chin with a gentle touch. He places a tender kiss on your lips, then rests his forehead against yours. âSo, Iâm an annoying husband, huh?â
You smile and give a nonchalant shrug. âI could've said worse, trust me.â
âPapa!â D/N's voice rings out.
Charles barely flinches at your daughter's outburst, only chuckling softly and shaking his head as he moves toward the dining table, grabbing a cutting board and a knife along the way.
âGuys, we only need about eight to ten apples!â you call out from across the kitchen.
Charles winks at you. âPerfect, we have nine.â
Without further delay, you gather the ingredients for a shortcrust pastry and begin to mix them together.
Some time laterâŠ
As you finish rolling out the second dough, D/N rushes over, balancing a large bowl of sliced apples in her arms, and exclaims, âHere, Maman! We finished!â
"Thank you so much, my love," you reply, guiding her to settle the bowl onto the counter before heading towards the oven to turn it on.
Charles lifts D/N onto the counter, and you reach into the cupboard to retrieve the cinnamon, salt, flour, and sugar, handing them to your daughter. With a few instructions, she sprinkles the ingredients into the bowl of apples and begins stirring eagerly.
As D/N continues, you feel Charles' arms wrap around you, and he mischievously pinches the side of your waist, prompting you to shriek and swat his hand away, shooting him a playful glare. "Stop that!"
Once everything's mixed together, D/N eagerly assists you in assembling the pie while Charles holds open the oven door for you to slide it in.
"Perfect," you exclaim, clapping your hands together. "We did really well."
D/N squeals with excitement, jumping up and down before extending her hand towards you, palm facing up. "High-five, Maman!"
You promptly oblige, meeting her hand with yours before she moves on to Charles.
Two hours laterâŠ
"Two scoops of vanilla ice cream on your slice?" you inquire, arching an eyebrow at your daughter, who struggles to keep her head up, her eyes fluttering closed momentarily before snapping back open.
"Huh?" she mumbles, rubbing her eyes. "Yes, I'm starving, Maman."
You share a knowing glance with Charles, his dimples appearing as he smiles.
With a nod of understanding, you heap two scoops of ice cream onto her slice of golden apple pie, pushing the plate towards D/N.
Both you and Charles observe quietly as she struggles to eat even a single forkful before conceding defeat with a sigh.
Looking up from her plate, D/N's eyes flit between you and Charles, a sheepish smile playing on her lips. "Actually... I'm not hungry anymore." Before you can respond, she hops up from her seat, declaring, "I'm tired. Iâm going to bed now."
She gives Charles a goodnight hug, then comes to you, avoiding eye contact as she quickly embraces you. "Good night, Maman."
In the blink of an eye, she vanishes from the kitchen, her footsteps on the marble floor echoing faintly as she races down the corridor, until they're drowned out by the resounding slam of her bedroom door.
You and Charles share a glance, both of you unable to contain your laughter.
After the laughter subsides, you stand up, holding D/Nâs plate, and remark, âIâll pop this in the freezer.â
As you finish storing everything away, Charles rinses the final plate and settles it onto the drying rack. Patting his hands on a paper towel, he fixes you with a tender gaze.
Though you know it's irrational, a wave of insecurity washes over you, making you acutely aware of all your perceived flaws.
"I love you. Happy wedding anniversary to us, mon cĆur," Charles' sweet words halt your anxious thoughts as he closes the distance between you, burying his face into the crook of your neck.
Your breath catches as his tongue traces patterns across your collarbone, his teeth gently nibbling at your flesh.
It takes considerable effort to suppress a moan, but you manage to respond, "I love you, baby. Here's to at least eighty more."
You feel Charles' smile against your skin before he raises his head, eliciting a whimper as the cool air grazes your now raw neck. Before the sound can fully escape, Charles silences it by pressing his lips firmly against yours. The tension that had built up earlier floods over you like a tsunami, his hands exploring your body as your tongues dance, vying for dominance, until he breaks away abruptly.
Both of you are left breathless.
Once he catches his breath, Charles extends his hand to you, which you grasp eagerlyâyou need all the support you can get to avoid collapsing onto the floor; your legs feel like jelly.
Noticing your predicament, Charles' lips curl into a proud smile, prompting an eye roll from you as he effortlessly scoops you into his arms, bridal style, and plants a tender kiss on your cheek.
"I think we should continue this in the bedroom, mon cĆur," he whispers, carrying you down the hallway, anticipation making your teeth capture your bottom lip.
yourusername
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yourusername I've loved you three six summers now, honey, but I want 'em all... đ
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#f1 smau#f1 fanfic#f1#f1 x reader#charles leclerc#charles leclerc x reader#cl16#cl16 x reader#cl16 imagine#f1 imagine#cl16 x you#charles leclerc smau#charles leclerc x female reader#charles x y/n#charles x you#charles leclerc fanfic#smau#charles leclerc fluff#charles leclerc imagine#f1 instagram au#fanfic#f1 fic#charles x reader#cl16 fic#f1 scenario#formula 1 x reader#formula 1 fanfic#formula 1#charles leclerc one shot#formula 1 x you
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Nothing lasts forever
Lucifer Morningstar x Reader
[warning: cheating: angst: panic attack: implied death]
âMore than anything music boxâ
As you stood there, your heart felt as though it had stopped beating at that very moment. Your breathing started to slow down as your smile faltered and transformed into a frown. A look of profound sadness and sorrow took over your face as you gazed at the scene before you.
Your eyes were fixed on Lucifer, one of the most beautiful angels in all of Heaven, the one you had opened your heart up to and shared your deepest feelings with.
But now, you were witnessing him cheating on you with Lilith, the first woman and Adam's wife. The pain you felt was almost unbearable, as you watched the love of your life betray your trust and shatter your heart into a million pieces.
You could feel your throat closing as your breathing quickened. You felt sick to your stomach as if someone had punched you in the gut. You wanted to throw up. You wanted to scream. To cry, to disappear from existence. You couldnât believe heâd do such a thing to you, were you not enough?
Were you not as beautiful as she is? Were you too clingy? To annoying? Why did he betray you and your trust?
He promised to always be by your side when you needed him, to always catch you when you fall. To be your shoulder to cry on. To never break your trust.
But here he was breaking that very promise and trust, leaving you feeling empty and hollow. The two of you were made for each other, and with the scene unfolding before you. Made you think otherwise.
âI love you, Lilith,â whispered Lucifer, as he stared at Lilith in awe kissing her on the lips.
Your whole world shattered as your back hit the tree, and you slid down onto the ground. Placing your hand over your mouth, muffling your wails. You couldnât breathe and felt the world closing in on you. You were nothing to him. You sniffled quietly placing your head into your hands, and wept as you swiftly flew away.
You fell into a heap on the floor of your house, sobbing as you curled up into a ball. You saw everything and what you saw would forever be engraved into your memory, youâll never get it out of your head. Seeing them like that, him like that with another woman. Made your stomach turn, how could he do such a thing to you?
âW- Was I not enough?â You whimpered, as you lay in the fetal position. Your face is red and puffy cheeks stained with tears, your heart aching and unbearable pain. You knew he felt what you were going through at this moment, and couldnât care less to comfort you. Your love was bound and could feel each other's emotions when they became severe, and you knew for a fact he could feel it.
But didnât care enough to comfort you. He was having too much fun with Lilith, doing things that he should only be doing to you his lover.
You thought he would never do such a thing to you. Never betray you and break your heart, and here he was ripping it right out of your throat. If he had noticed you would he have stopped? Would he have kept going? Taunting you, teasing you, on an act heâd never done to you. Such an act heâll never do to you now.
You thought your relationship was good perfect even. Yes, you had the occasional fight but would always end up back in each otherâs arms, holding each other lovingly. Feeling safe and secure in each other's warm embrace.
âI'm so sorry, my dear duckling," he whispered, pulling you close and showering your shoulder with gentle kisses. "Please know that I understand how you feel.â
"I forgive you, Luci," you said, enveloping him in a warm embrace and smiling through your tears as he held you. He pressed a tender kiss to your forehead and whispered comforting words in your ear, promising to make things right.
You banged your fist against the cold ground; gripping at the fabric of your clothes, as you cried. The tears didnât seem to stop and wouldnât anytime soon. You couldnât breathe, the room around you started to spin. You felt dizzy and nauseous, feeling bile rising in your throat causing you to gag. You swallowed and gripped the side of your head.
You tossed it to the ground, screaming and crying in anger and frustration. âHOW COULD HE DO THIS TO ME!â You shouted, trashing everything that reminded you of him. You couldnât stop crying, the things this man did to you. How he made you smile and laugh, how he made you fall head over heels.
You wanted to disappear and fade back into dust, your original form. To not be forced to live with this pain for all eternity, knowing that even after this youâd still love him. Heâd come back and apologize slowly making up for it butâŠ..
You stood there with the other angels, his siblings trying their best to comfort you. As you watched him be banished from Heaven, cast down with his new lover. Leaving you there alone in Heaven, with no shoulder to cry on.
You found yourself standing amidst a group of angels, feeling a sense of unease and trying hard to keep yourself composed. As you looked ahead, you noticed him standing before Lilith, his wings stretched out protectively, shielding her from any harm. The sight of him being so close to Lilith made your heart ache with a mixture of emotions.
You couldn't help but wonder if you were so unpleasant to look at that he couldn't even spare a glance in your direction. The whole situation left you feeling conflicted, and you couldn't help but feel a twinge of jealousy towards Lilith, who seemed to have his undivided attention.
As you stood there looking at him, you noticed that his gaze had shifted to meet yours. It was then that you saw a hint of remorse in his eyes, and you couldn't help but feel a wave of sadness wash over you. In that moment, a single tear trickled down his cheek, and you averted your eyes, unable to bear the intensity of the situation.
As you looked away from him, he noticed the tears that had welled up in your own eyes, and the hollow, defeated expression etched on your face. It was a moment of deep emotional turmoil for both of you, and the silence that hung between you was almost suffocating.
âNothing lasts forever,â Azrael said, as he placed his hand on your shoulder squeezing it gently in reasurrance.
You shook your head and stepped outside of the courtroom, stopping at the stairs. You reached around your neck taking off the necklace, Lucifer had given you years ago.
You stared at it for a moment, opening it. A soft melody played, tears trickled down her cheeks as whisps of yellow magic swirled, around the locket music box. A duck swam in a pond while a swan, swam up next to it nuzzling their heads into each other.
As she witnessed the heartwarming scene unfolding before her, she couldn't help but let out a choked sob. A tearful smile graced her face as she watched the duck and the swan gradually transform into Lucifer and You, respectively. The two characters held each other closely, their embrace exuding a sense of comfort and security.
Lucifer, still holding onto You, took to the skies, flying around with exuberance. His laughter filled the air, and his smile was contagious. You, too, shared in his joy, reveling in the moment with him.
As they soared through the clouds, a vivid memory of their first kiss flashed before your eyes. You remembered how you had wrapped your arms tightly around his neck, and he had held you close to him. The moment had been magical, and it was a memory that you cherished deeply.
You smiled, closing the locket as a gust of wind blew the magic away, and you along with it, returning back to your original form to dust.
A/n: idk what I just created thereâs no part ii for this unless yâall beg me for it but idk still]
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#lucifer morningstar x reader#Lucfier x reader#x reader#fanfic#angst#romance#headcanons#hazbin hotel#lucifer morningstar#lucifer x reader#hazbin hotel x reader#hazbin lucifer#lucifer magne#hazbin hotel lucifer x reader
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GENTLEMAN AND THE LADY : NANAMI KENTO
you were six months pregnant and living with your roommate, nanami kento. after you mentioned that no one wants to take a pregnant woman on a date, he kindly offered to take you out himself ( also because he likes you ).
warning : non-sorcerer! nanami, roommate! nanami, fluff, pregnant! reader.
wc. 6,5k
just re-watched friends i just wanna make this where joey is taking rachel on a date when she's pregnant.
you and nanami are lounging on the couch in your cozy apartment, the soft light of the noon creating a warm ambiance around you. a bowl of popcorn rests between you, the buttery aroma mixing with the faint scent of your favorite candles flickering softly in the background. as you both settle into the comfort of each otherâs company, you feel a sense of tranquility enveloping the space.
the sound of the television playing a lighthearted movie fills the room, but your focus is entirely on nanami. he leans back against the couch, a relaxed smile on his face, as he munches on a handful of popcorn. you canât help but notice the way his eyes crinkle slightly at the corners when heâs genuinely enjoying himself.
after a moment of silence, he turns to you, his expression thoughtful. âhey, do you have any recommendations for a good place to go on a date?â he asks, his voice steady but laced with curiosity. you can see him genuinely considering your opinion, and it makes your heart flutter a bit.
you ponder for a moment, glancing around the apartment as if the walls might offer a suggestion. âwell, thereâs that new cafĂ© downtown that just opened. they have great pastries and a really nice atmosphere for conversation,â you suggest, recalling the charming details youâve heard about it.
nanami listens attentively to your recommendation, nodding thoughtfully as his gaze remains fixed on you. he reaches for another handful of popcorn, munching on it as he mulls over your suggestion. âthat sounds lovely,â he muses, a soft smile playing on his lips. âi appreciate your input.â
he leans back against the couch, his eyes meeting yours, and there's a hint of vulnerability in his gaze. âi must admit, iâve been a bit uncertain about planning a date,â he confesses, his voice laced with a touch of self-consciousness.
âitâs been a while since iâve done this,â he continues, a small chuckle escaping his lips. âi guess iâm a bit rusty.â he looks at you with a soft, almost sheepish expression, seeking reassurance as his eyes search yours.
you frown, a hint of disbelief in your voice as you respond, ârusty? what do you mean by that? you canât possibly think of yourself like that.â you shake your head, wanting to emphasize your point. âyouâre kind, respectful, and such a gentleman. every woman wants that in their lifeâat least thatâs what i want.â
nanami listens intently to your words, his eyes never leaving yours as he takes in the sincerity of your response. a slight flush of embarrassment spreads across his cheeks, but thereâs a hint of gratitude in his expression as well.
he chuckles softly, a mixture of humility and appreciation in his voice. âyou flatter me, truly,â he says, his gaze softening. âbut i admit, iâve been out of the dating scene for some time now. itâs been a while since iâve seriously considered taking someone on a date.â
you canât help but smile at his honesty, feeling a warmth growing in your chest. âthe girl whoâs going to be your girlfriend is going to be very lucky,â you tell him earnestly. âiâve been dating on and off, but iâve never had someone like you as my boyfriend.â your voice carries a hint of nostalgia as you reflect on your past relationships. âmost of what iâve experienced has been⊠well, letâs just say not the best. all i have is someone who knocked me up, and nobody want to take a pregnant woman on a date,â you add, glancing down at your visible bump with a wry smile.
youâve been pregnant for over six months now, and while the journey hasnât been easy, youâve embraced it with a sense of determination. although you and your ex decided to keep the baby, you both agreed to remain civil about it without getting back together. it was a decision rooted in mutual respect, allowing you to navigate this new chapter in your life while maintaining your independence.
nanamiâs usually stoic facade shifts slightly as he takes in your words. there's a hint of disbelief in his eyes when you mention your previous partner, and his protective instincts seem to kick in. he leans in a bit closer to you, his expression now one of concern.
âiâm sorry you had to experience that,â he says quietly, his voice steady yet tinged with a hint of anger at the thought of someone treating you poorly. âyou deserve better, especially in your condition. no one should have to deal with that kind of treatment, especially while expecting a child. if you donât mind, i could take you on a date..â
nanami falters for a moment, his words caught in his throat. he seems to hesitate, as if struggling with something internal. his gaze drifts downward, his eyes fixating on your visible bump, and a mixture of protectiveness and vulnerability floods his expression.
he takes a deep breath before speaking again, his voice steady but tinged with a hint of uncertainty. âi would never treat you like that,â he says hoarsely, his eyes meeting yours.
your eyebrows raise in surprise, and a smile spreads across your face at his words. âdo you really mean it? youâre actually offering to take me on a date?â the excitement in your voice is unmistakable, and your heart races at the thought of spending time with him in that way.
nanami's heart skips a beat at your reaction, your enthusiasm mirroring his own feelings. he straightens up slightly, his gaze never leaving yours, and he nods in response.
âyes, of course,â he replies, his voice slightly breathless. âi wouldnât have said it if i didnât mean it.â he leans in a bit closer, his expression now a mixture of anticipation and tenderness. âiâd gladly take you on a date, if youâll allow me.â
you raise an eyebrow, a hint of confusion crossing your face as you ask, âbut what about your date?â your voice is curious, a bit puzzled by the implication that he had plans before this moment. âi thought you were going to take someone else out?â you add, wanting to clarify, the excitement of your own offer mingling with a tinge of uncertainty.
nanami glances away for a moment, his expression becoming slightly sheepish as he realizes the disconnect between your understanding and his original plans. he runs a hand through his hair, a wry smile tugging at the corners of his lips.
âwell, my plans were somewhat...open-ended,â he admits, his tone a mix of sheepishness and honesty.â he looks back at you, his eyes meeting yours in a moment of vulnerability. âi hadnât actually asked anyone out yet.â
he rubs the back of his neck, a hint of embarrassment in the gesture, as he looks at you sheepishly. âto be honest, i was just trying to figure things out and..â he trails off, searching for the right words.
he takes a deep breath, his gaze meeting yours with a newfound determination. âi guess you could say you were always on my mind as a potential date, but i was just struggling to find the courage to ask you.â
your eyes widen slightly in surprise, and a soft smile spreads across your face as you respond with a simple, âoh?â the word hangs in the air for a moment as you take in what heâs just revealed. then, your smile grows, and you add, âwell, iâd love to go on a date with you, ken.â your voice is warm, filled with sincerity as you meet his gaze, feeling a sense of excitement and tenderness bloom between you.
nanamiâs eyes widen at your response, a mixture of surprise and relief washing over his features. his usual composed demeanor seems to soften, his expression tinged with an almost boyish charm.
he leans a bit closer to you, a lopsided smile tugging at the corners of his lips. âreally? you truly would say yes to me?â he asks, still somewhat in disbelief. âi thought youâd be reluctant since...â he glances towards your bump, his expression slightly sheepish.
you chuckle softly at his disbelief, your eyes glancing down at your bump for a moment before returning to his. âiâm glad you asked,â you say with a playful yet sincere tone. âsince, you know, itâs not like thereâs a line of people wanting to take a pregnant woman on a date.â your words are lighthearted, but thereâs a trace of truth in them. your smile grows warmer as you add, âbut you... you did, so yeah, iâm happy.â
nanami's eyes light up at your response, his expression becoming softer as he listens to your words. there's a mixture of appreciation and a hint of protectiveness in his gaze as he smiles back at you.
he shakes his head slightly, a hint of disbelief and amusement in his voice. âi canât believe iâve been overthinking this for so long when all i had to do was ask.â he reaches out to gently place his hand on yours a moment, his touch warm and comforting. âiâm happy too,â he says quietly, his voice filled with sincerity.
you smile warmly at nanami, feeling a sense of comfort and affection in the moment. without hesitation, you gently intertwine your fingers with his, the simple gesture solidifying the connection between you. âthen itâs decided,â you say softly, nodding as your eyes meet his with a sense of certainty and excitement. the warmth of his hand in yours feels reassuring, and you canât help but feel a flutter of anticipation for whatâs to come.
nanami's eyes widen slightly at the feeling of your fingers intertwining with his, his heart skipping a beat at the unexpected yet welcome gesture. there's a brief hint of surprise in his expression, but it's quickly replaced by a tender smile.
he laces his fingers with yours, his grip firm and steady. he gazes back at you, his eyes filled with a mixture of tenderness and newfound confidence.
âit is,â he whispers, a hint of excitement in his voice. he leans in a bit closer, his gaze never leaving yours. âiâll plan something special for us.â
the atmosphere around you both seems to crackle with a sense of anticipation and excitement, the intimacy of the moment heightened by the connection you've just established. the quiet of the room feels almost charged with an unspoken tension, the silence broken only by the faint hum of the movie playing in the background.
nanami keeps his hand intertwined with yours, his thumb gently moving over your skin in a soothing motion as if he's savoring this newfound closeness. his eyes remain fixed on your face, a hint of a smile playing on his lips.
later that evening, you were adjusting the last details of your outfit when you heard a knock at the door. thinking nanami might answer, you call out for him, but there's no response. slightly puzzled, you walk to the front door yourself, expecting maybe a delivery or someone else.
as you open the door, youâre greeted by the sight of nanami standing there, looking more put together than ever, a soft smile tugging at his lips. his presence takes you by surprise, especially with the beautiful bouquet of flowers he holds out toward you. the delicate blooms seem to mirror the warmth in his eyes.
âfor you,â he says softly, his voice warm and sincere as he hands them over, waiting for your reaction.
a surprised laugh escapes you as you take in the scene. âwhat are you doing out here?â you ask, shaking your head with amusement as you reach for the flowers. âare you pretending to pick me up?â
nanamiâs smile widens at your question, seemingly amused that youâve called him out on his unusual arrival. his eyes remain fixed on yours, a hint of playfulness dancing in their depths.
he shrugs slightly, a charmingly sheepish expression on his face. âi thought it would be a nice way to start our date,â he replies, his tone laced with a touch of charm. âi wanted to play the part properly.â
he steps a bit closer, the scent of his aftershave mingling with the fragrance of the flowers heâs handpicked for you.
you look up at him with a soft smile, warmth spreading through you as you take in his thoughtfulness. âthank you, ken,â you say, your voice sincere. âyou didnât have to go all out, but i appreciate it.â
glancing down at the flowers in your hand, you feel a surge of excitement for the evening ahead. âiâm just going to grab my bag, and then weâre good to go.â with one last smile, you turn back inside, the sound of nanamiâs quiet chuckle following you as you head to finish getting ready.
nanami watches you as you retreat into the apartment, his eyes following you with a mixture of fondness and a hint of anticipation. a soft smile graces his lips as he stands there on the doorstep, patiently waiting for you.
he rocks back and forth on his feet, his thoughts swirling with excitement for the night ahead. heâs confident, but thereâs a slight fluttering in his chest that reminds him that this is more than just a casual hangout.
a few moments later, you reappear from the apartment, your bag in hand.
âready?â he asks, extending his hand out to you.
you smile warmly, feeling a little flutter in your chest as you see nanami standing there, his hand extended toward you. without hesitation, you nod and gently take his hand, the warmth of his palm instantly comforting. âready,â you reply softly, your fingers intertwining with his.
thereâs a quiet excitement between the two of you as you step outside together, hand in hand, ready to enjoy the night ahead.
you and nanami sit across from each other in the cozy cafĂ©, the soft glow of the dim lights casting a warm, intimate atmosphere around you both. your plates are half-finished, but neither of you seems too concerned with the food as you focus on each other. nanami gently holds your hand across the table, his thumb absentmindedly stroking your skin, and thereâs a soft, tender smile playing on his lips.
as you both talk, your conversation is filled with warmth, the kind that makes you forget about everything else. the sounds of soft music and quiet chatter from other tables fade into the background. nanamiâs deep, steady voice is soothing, and his eyes never leave yours, as if heâs fully present, hanging on to every word you say.
nanamiâs gaze never wavers as he listens to your words, his focus intently on you. thereâs a sense of care and concentration in his expression, as if he's absorbing every detail of your conversation.
he continues to absently run his thumb over your hand as you talk, a small gesture of affection and connection that adds to the warmth of the moment. he occasionally leans in slightly closer whenever you pause, as if to ensure he doesnât miss a single syllable.
occasionally, he contributes to the conversation with soft, thoughtful responses, his words chosen carefully to match your tone and topic.
the atmosphere around you both feels almost like a cocoon, the cafĂ©âs ambiance creating an intimate space that allows you to fully immerse yourselves in the conversation. itâs almost as if the rest of the world has faded away, leaving only the two of you in the cozy, private bubble.
nanamiâs fingers gently play with your knuckles, his touch light yet reassuring, as if heâs silently conveying that heâs right here with you, completely present in the moment.
the conversation continues to flow effortlessly, the topics weaving seamlessly from one to the next. nanamiâs eyes are fixed on you, his gaze never wandering as he listens intently. his smile grows more relaxed and genuine as time passes, a clear sign that heâs enjoying himself immensely.
he occasionally squeezes your hand softly, not breaking the flow of the conversation but rather subtly communicating a sense of comfort and familiarity through his touch.
nanami suddenly interrupts, you pause, mid-sentence, your words hanging in the air. his apology is soft and genuine, but what follows catches you off guard. âiâm sorry to interrupt, but⊠i just want to tell you that youâre so beautiful tonight,â he says quietly, his voice filled with sincerity.
your breath hitches for a second, your heart skipping a beat at his unexpected compliment. the warmth in his eyes is unmistakable, and it sends a gentle flutter through you. his words settle between you, quiet yet powerful, leaving you momentarily speechless.
the moment hangs in the air as you let his words sink in, the unexpected compliment setting off a flutter of emotions within you. your heart skips a beat, a warm shiver traveling down your spine at the genuine sincerity in his voice and the warmth in his eyes.
for a moment, youâre speechless, your mind racing to find the right response to such a heartfelt compliment. it takes a few beats before youâre able to respond, your voice soft and a bit shaky.
âthank you,â you breathe, your cheeks tinged with a hint of pink.
nanamiâs eyes soften as he sees the effect of his words on you, the sight of your cheeks flushed with a hint of pink making his heart skip a beat. he can tell that his compliment has caught you off-guard, but the sincerity of it remains. he gently squeezes your hand again, his touch a silent reassurance and comfort, as if heâs anchoring you back to the moment. he looks at you intently, his voice warm and sincere.
âi mean it. you look absolutely stunning tonight.â
you feel the warmth of his words settle deep within you, your cheeks still slightly flushed as you smile softly. meeting his gaze, you squeeze his hand back, your voice gentle yet teasing. âyouâre one to talk,â you say, your eyes sparkling as you take him in. âyou look handsome too, as always.â
your compliment lingers in the air, and you can see a faint blush rise on nanamiâs cheeks, the usual calmness in his expression giving way to a quiet appreciation. you feel the warmth of the moment surround you both, an unspoken understanding in the air between you.
nanamiâs lips quirk into a small, boyish smile as he registers your compliment, his usually composed demeanor faltering for just a moment. a soft blush tinges his cheeks, betraying his slight embarrassment at your words.
he ducks his head slightly, his smile growing more genuine as he lets out a soft chuckle, his thumb beginning to once again gently stroke your knuckles. âthank you,â he murmurs, his tone soft and just a touch sheepish.
he looks back up at you, his eyes locking onto yours. the usual calm confidence has been replaced by a hint of warm, a subtle sign that your words have gotten to him more than he lets on.
he doesnât say anything for a moment, simply holding your gaze, his eyes filled with a mixture of warmth, affection and maybe even a hint of something more, something thatâs still taking root. the cafeâs soft background music fills the brief silence, a gentle reminder of the world outside their little bubble. after a beat, he breaks the gaze to look down at your entwined fingers, a thoughtful expression clouding his features as he seems to mull over something in his mind.
he runs his thumb over your knuckles again, as if the act is grounding him in the moment, a soothing habit. then, he looks back up at you, his gaze fixed on your face.
âcan i ask you something?â he says quietly, his voice carrying a hint of uncertainty. you meet his gaze, noticing the subtle shift in his expression, and nod with a soft smile. your fingers squeeze his gently in encouragement as you say, âof course.â there's a warmth in your eyes, letting him know you're open to whatever he wants to ask.
nanami takes a deep breath, his gaze dropping momentarily to where his thumb is still absently rubbing circles over your knuckles. he seems to be collecting his thoughts, silently preparing himself to ask whatever question is on his mind.
finally, he looks back up at you, his eyes locking onto yours with sincerity and vulnerability. his voice is soft, but steady.
âcan i be honest with you?â thereâs a hint of trepidation in his eyes, as if heâs unsure of how you might react to whatever heâs about to say. his grip on your hand is still firm, his touch steady, but thereâs a subtle tension in his body, as if bracing himself for your response.
the quiet chatter of the café fades into the background as he waits for your response, his eyes fixed on your face, searching for any sign of how you might take his question.
you tilt your head slightly, your soft smile never faltering. the sincerity in his voice makes your heart flutter, and you gently squeeze his hand in reassurance. âalways,â you reply, your voice equally soft, encouraging him to speak freely. your eyes meet his, conveying that whatever he has to say, youâre ready to listen.
nanamiâs expression relaxes a bit as he hears your answer, the reassurance in your voice settling something within him. his grip on your hand tightens just a fraction, as if drawing strength from your presence.
he takes a deep breath, his eyes drifting down to your entwined fingers for a second before coming back up to meet yours. âitâs justâŠâ he trails off, seemingly unsure of how to phrase what heâs trying to say. thereâs a hint of uncertainty in his gaze, as if heâs struggling with voicing his thoughts.
he looks down again, his thumb continuing its nervous dance on your knuckles, the soft caress like a quiet plea for understanding. itâs clear that whatever it is he wants to say is not an easy topic for him to bring up, judging by the way his eyes dart between your joined hands and your face.
he takes another deep breath, then slowly lifts his gaze to meet yours again, his voice a bit more determined this time.
âitâs just that⊠i care about you. a lot more than you might realize.â the vulnerability in his eyes is undeniable, the truth of his words laid bare for you to see. thereâs a quiet intensity in his gaze, as if heâs silently asking you to understand the depth of his feelings without him having to spell it out.
he lets out a soft sigh, almost like a quiet confession, his fingers tightening around yours just a bit more. âmore than i should,â he adds quietly, his voice barely above a whisper.
you smile softly at him, the weight of his words settling in your heart as your expression warms. without breaking eye contact, you gently place your other hand on the table, a silent invitation for him to take it. nanami looks at your gesture, his hesitation melting away as he places his hand in yours, entwining your fingers with a delicate care.
âthank you, ken,â you say quietly, your voice filled with sincerity. âiâm grateful for that⊠for you. youâve made things easier for me, especially with the baby on the way. i couldnât have asked for a better person to be by my side.â your gaze is steady, your words carrying the truth of how much his presence has meant to you.
a soft, almost disbelieving smile tugs at the corners of nanamiâs lips as he takes in your words, his eyes locking onto yours with a mixture of wonder and gratitude. itâs as if your words have reached deep within him, touching a part thatâs been yearning for this connection.
he squeezes your hand gently, the touch of his fingers against yours anchoring him in the moment.
âi⊠i didn't think you felt that way,â he admits, a hint of vulnerability seeping into his voice. âi thought maybe... i was being too much.â
you quickly shake your head, squeezing his hands gently as you lean in slightly, your eyes filled with sincerity. âno, ken, youâve never made me feel that way,â you say softly, your voice firm but kind. âif anything, you make me feel incredibly lucky. i donât know how i wouldâve gotten through all this without you, especially with everything happening.â
your gaze softens, a small, appreciative smile playing on your lips. âeven though weâve only known each other for a year, youâve shown me so much care and support. i canât thank you enough for that.â
nanamiâs expression softens even further at your words, a wave of relief and gratitude washing over him. it's clear that your reassurance means a lot to him, as if a weight has been lifted off his shoulders.
he lets out a soft sigh, his grip on your hands tightening a fraction. âgood. iâm glad i havenât crossed any boundaries,â he says, a hint of a smile appearing in his eyes. âi⊠i donât want to overstep. i just want to make sure youâre taken care of.â
after your lovely date at the café, nanami leads you to a nearby ice cream parlor, the sweet aroma of freshly made waffle cones wafting through the air as you step inside. the vibrant colors of the ice cream flavors are a delightful sight, making it hard to choose just one. you both eventually settle on your favorites and exit with tiny paper bowls of ice cream in hand.
as you sit on the bench outside, the evening breeze carries a hint of warmth, making the moment feel cozy and relaxed. you take a spoonful of your ice cream, savoring the cold, creamy sweetness while watching nanami as he takes a bite of his own. a small smile spreads across his face as the flavors hit his palate, and you canât help but chuckle at how genuinely happy he looks.
nanami glances over at you, his eyes tracking your movements as you take a spoonful of your ice cream. he watches as your expression changes with the creamy sweetness, and it brings a genuine smile to his face.
he savors his own bite, the cold, soothing sweetness a welcome treat on a warm evening. he notices your chuckle and raises an eyebrow in an amused question. âwhatâs so funny?â he asks, his voice tinged with a hint of mock curiosity.
you shake your head, unable to suppress a chuckle as you glance down at your ice cream, trying to hide your smile. âyou look so giddy, like a little kid,â you tease, unable to resist the playful jab.
nanami lets out a soft scoff, a hint of mock offense in his eyes. â i do not,â he replies, his tone trying to sound indignant but betrayed by the hint of a smile at the edges of his lips. âiâm just⊠enjoying my ice cream.â
he takes another deliberate bite, as if to prove his point, his expression exaggeratingly serious. âiâll have you know iâm a professional, serious adult. this is just the proper reaction to good ice cream.â he takes another bite, as if proving a point, his expression still playful.
you nod, humming teasingly as you lean closer, a playful grin on your face. âoh, really? you do, do you?â you reply, raising an eyebrow at him, clearly enjoying the light-hearted banter. your tone playful as you take another bite of your own ice cream, reveling in the moment.
nanamiâs eyes narrow a bit at your challenge, a hint of a competitive spark igniting in his gaze. he leans in closer to you, the gap between you shrinking to mere inches.
âoh, i absolutely do. iâm a perfectly serious, dignified adult,â he says, his tone mock-serious once more, a playful glint in his eyes. âice cream does not make me giddy or childlike. not at all.â he takes another deliberate bite, maintaining eye contact with you as he does, as if daring you to contradict him.
you lean in closer, a mischievous grin spreading across your face as you playfully agree, âof course, how could i forget? the epitome of seriousness!â
the warmth radiating from his chest brushes against your arm, and you canât help but smirk, your tone dripping with mock sincerity. âi mean, who wouldnât be totally composed while eating ice cream?â you maintain the playful tension between you, your eyes sparkling with mischief as you challenge him silently, clearly enjoying this lighthearted moment together.
nanamiâs expression remains mock serious, his eyes locked onto yours even as the corners of his lips threaten to twitch into a smile. heâs clearly enjoying the playful banter as much as you are, his competitive streak coming out in full force.
âexactly,â he says, his voice still maintaining that overly serious tone. âice cream consumption requires the utmost composure and maturity.â he takes another deliberate bite, holding your gaze for a moment before adding, âthough it seems youâre also having some trouble keeping a straight face.â
his shoulders brush against yours gently, and he leans in a bit closer, his proximity creating an intimate but playful atmosphere between the two of you.
âitâs like youâre trying to challenge my serious ice cream-eating skills,â he adds, his voice still tinged with mock offense, but his eyes sparkling with mischief. âand we canât have that, can we?â
you scrunch your nose, a playful smile breaking across your face as you shake your head. âoh no, we definitely canât have that!â you respond, your tone light and teasing. âi wouldnât want to challenge your serious ice cream-eating skills. that would be too much pressure!â
leaning in slightly to match his playful intensity, you add, âbesides, youâve got the whole âmature ice cream connoisseurâ vibe down perfectly. i wouldnât stand a chance.â the atmosphere between you feels charged with laughter and warmth, and you canât help but giggle at the ridiculousness of the moment, feeling utterly at ease in his presence.
nanami lets out a soft scoff, his expression maintaining the mock serious facade, but the amusement in his eyes is clear to see. âof course, youâre right. it would be unjust to challenge my mastery in ice cream consumption. itâs a skill cultivated over years of careful refinement and dedication.â
he takes another deliberate bite, his eyes still locked onto yours as he continues his little act of exaggerated seriousness. âiâve honed my technique, studying the perfect temperature, texture, and flavor balance. itâs an art, really.â
you nod, suppressing a laugh as you play along with his act. âwow, you really do sound like an ice cream expert,â you say, your eyes sparkling with mischief. âwith all that dedication and refinement, Iâm starting to think you should consider a career change. maybe open an ice cream shop or something.â
leaning in closer, you tease him further. âjust imagine: ânanamiâs ice cream academy,â where you teach everyone the fine art of ice cream consumption. i can see the slogan now: âbecause every scoop deserves a serious approach.ââ
the playful banter flows effortlessly between you, making the evening feel even more special.
nanami lets out a soft snort, his mock serious demeanor faltering for just a moment as he struggles to maintain his composure. he canât help but let a small, genuine smile slip through as he shakes his head at your suggestion.
âice cream academy? thatâs a bit excessive, donât you think?â he replies, his tone playful but feigning seriousness. âthough i must say, the idea of a âserious ice cream consumption schoolâ does have a certain ring to it.â he takes another bite, leaning in a bit closer. âhmm⊠something to consider, maybe.â
you look at him with a wide smile, your eyes sparkling with amusement as you shake your head. âyouâre so silly,â you say, letting the warmth of the moment linger in the air.
thereâs a lightness between you, and the playful banter makes everything feel effortless. the streetâs soft ambiance continues to wrap around you, creating a perfect backdrop for the connection you both share.
nanami lets out a soft sigh, his mock serious facade finally collapsing as a smile fully takes over his face. he canât help but let out a small laugh, his eyes sparkling with mirth as he looks at you.
âi canât help it,â he admits, his tone lighthearted. âyou bring out the silliness in me, i guess. plus, itâs hard to be serious when iâm having so much fun.â he takes another bite, savoring the sweetness as he watches you, the light of the streetlamps casting a soft glow on your face.
nanami feels a surge of warmth as he watches you, your smile brightening the moment. the closeness between you feels natural and comforting, but he hesitates, not wanting to overstep any boundaries. he glances at your shoulder, his heart racing slightly at the thought of wrapping his arm around you.
with a gentle and respectful tone, he asks softly, âwould it be okay if i put my arm around your shoulder?â his voice is laced with sincerity, hoping to convey his genuine intention to make you feel comfortable and cared for. he wants to bridge that last bit of distance while ensuring you feel at ease with the gesture.
you immediately catch on to his hesitation and the reason behind his question, and your heart swells at the thoughtfulness behind his gesture. you know that heâs being respectful of your feelings and boundaries, and it warms your heart to know that he cares so deeply about making you comfortable.
without any hesitation, you reply with a warm smile, nodding your agreement. âof course,â you say, your voice soft and sincere. âi would like that very much.â
nanamiâs heart skips a beat, a wave of relief washing over him as you accept his offer with a gracious nod and a warm smile on your lips. he had been so worried about overdoing it or making you uncomfortable, but your eager response dissolves any doubts he might have.
he scoots a bit closer, closing the small gap between you as he gently slips his arm around your shoulder, pulling you in closer. the weight of his touch is light and comfortable, a subtle display of affectionate care. he looks over at you, silently asking for confirmation that he hasnât overstepped.
you look up at him with a soft smile, your eyes sparkling with warmth as you silently reassure him that he hasnât overstepped any boundaries. the gentle pressure of his arm around your shoulder feels comforting, and the connection between you deepens in that moment.
the ambiance of the street seems to fade into the background as you both share this intimate space, filled with laughter and understanding. itâs as if the world outside your little bubble doesnât exist, and in this little bubble, you feel at ease and genuinely happy to be here with him.
as you flash him a warm smile, itâs as if a knot of tension he didnât even realize he had, in his chest loosens. your silent reassurance that he hasnât crossed any boundaries further eases his mind. having you so close like this, feeling the weight of your body against his arm and the warmth of your presence, itâs everything heâs hoped for and more.
he gives your shoulder a gentle squeeze, his fingers lightly tracing small circles on your skin, an affectionate gesture that speaks of his contentment in this moment.
âdo you have a good time?â nanami asks, his voice gentle yet filled with anticipation as you both come to a stop in front of your shared apartment door. the cool evening air wraps around you, but his black coat drapes over your shoulder, providing a comforting warmth that lingers like a gentle embrace.
you look up at him, taking a moment to soak in the soft glow of the light above that casts a warm light over his features. his eyes, usually so serious, shine with a hint of vulnerability, revealing the underlying excitement he felt throughout the evening. the way he looks at you, with such genuine interest and kindness, makes your heart flutter.
with a smile spreading across your face, you nod enthusiastically. âi had a very good time,â you reply, your voice light and sincere. the memories of the eveningâthe laughter, the playful banter, and the sweet moments sharedâflood your mind, filling you with warmth.
âthank you for taking me on a date,â you add, your tone laced with gratitude. you can see the corners of his mouth lift slightly, a soft blush creeping up his cheeks at your words. he seems genuinely pleased by your response, and itâs clear that this evening meant as much to him as it did to you.
nanamiâs heart skips a beat as he listens to your response, the sincerity in your voice and the gratitude in your expression make his spirits soar. the blush on his cheeks is evident, his expression betraying a mixture of joy and slight embarrassment, but he maintains his composure as he responds, his tone gentle and sincere.
âgood,â he replies, his voice filled with relief and joy. âiâm glad to hear that.â
he takes a small step closer, his hands slipping into his pockets as he continues. âi was worried i might have... overdone it.â he gazes into your eyes, his expression growing more earnest, the vulnerable glimmer in his gaze becoming more prominent. âi just wanted everything to be... just right. perfect, even.â
he lets out a soft sigh, a mixture of tension and relief escaping his lips with the exhale. âi guess i was a bit on edge, hoping youâd like everything.â
your heart swells at his words, seeing the sincerity and vulnerability in his gaze. you take a small step closer, closing the distance between you, your smile widening as you reassure him. âyou havenât overdone anything,â you say, your voice soft yet confident. âeverything was perfect. I had an amazing time, and Iâm very happy.â
you can see the tension in his shoulders ease slightly as your words sink in, a wave of relief washing over him. the blush on his cheeks deepens, and you can't help but admire how endearing he looks, balancing that gentle masculinity with a hint of shyness.
âseriously,â you continue, wanting him to fully grasp how much this date meant to you. âfrom the flowers to the dinner, every little detail was thoughtful and sweet. it really made me feel special.â you pause for a moment, letting your gaze linger on him, conveying the warmth you feel inside.
his eyes soften even more, and you can see the gratitude radiating from him. itâs in the way he smiles, his expression a mix of joy and relief, and you realize that he truly values your happiness just as much as his own. âthank you for being so wonderful,â you add, feeling a rush of warmth between you two as you share this moment together.
as your words sink in, nanami feels a wave of relief wash over him, knowing that his efforts havenât gone unnoticed or unappreciated. he basks in the warm glow of your approval, your sweet compliments and genuine smile making him feel as if heâs floating on air.
he lets out a soft sigh, his shoulders relaxing as the tension dissolves from his body, his heart lighter than it's been in a long time. he takes a small step closer, his eyes never leaving yours as he responds in a soft, sincere voice.
âthank you⊠for being so understanding and kind.â
nanamiâs gaze lingers on you for a moment, his expression warm and appreciative. he notices how the evening chill begins to settle around you, the gentle breeze brushing against your skin, and he instinctively wants to ensure youâre comfortable.
âitâs getting cold and late,â he finally says, his voice taking on a more serious tone, though there's still a hint of tenderness in it. âyou should head inside.â
he pauses for a heartbeat, the corner of his lips curling into a playful smirk as he adds, âjust pretend iâm dropping you off like a gentleman, okay?â
the lightheartedness of his remark brightens the atmosphere, but thereâs an underlying sincerity behind it as well. he takes a small step back, maintaining a respectful distance, allowing you the space to feel comfortable as you reach for the doorknob.
âafter all,â he continues, âa gentleman always makes sure the lady gets home safely.â his playful tone mingles with a softness in his eyes, and you can tell he truly enjoys these moments with you, cherishing every shared smile and laugh.
you can't help but laugh softly at his playful comment, his gentle smirk instantly putting a smile on your face. the way he maintains a respectful distance while making sure you feels safe and comfortable makes your heart skip a beat.
âokay, iâll play along,â you reply, playing along with his little game, your tone warm and teasing. âbut only because youâre being such a perfect gentleman, of course.â you reach for the doorknob, your hand lingering on it as you turn back to look at him once more.
you pause for a moment, the playful banter hanging in the air like a warm embrace. the smile on your face reflects the joy he brings, and you canât help but feel a sense of lightness in your heart.
âdonât forget to be safe on your way home, mister gentleman,â you tease, your tone light and playful, as you look back at him. your eyes sparkle with warmth, and you can see the way his cheeks flush slightly at your words, a hint of bashfulness creeping into his demeanor.
âi wouldnât want anything to happen to you while youâre out on your noble quest to drop off your lady,â you add, your voice laced with affection.
you take a small step closer again, the distance between you two shrinking just a bit more, you standing on your tiptoe to kiss his cheek softly. thereâs a softness in your gaze, a genuine care that shines through as you maintain eye contact, wanting him to know you truly mean it.
âtake care of yourself, okay?â you say, your smile lingering as you finally release the doorknob, stepping fully inside. the moment feels sweet, and you know that this is just the beginning of something special.
nanami's heart flutters at your affectionate gestureâthe way your lips brush against his cheek, the warmth of your gaze, the softness in your words. he feels a rush of emotions welling up within him, a mixture of happiness, a hint of embarrassment, and a deep sense of contentment.
he stands there for a moment, his fingers reaching to touch the spot where you just kissed him, his fingertips gently tracing over the lingering warmth. his lips curve into a soft, bashful smile, his heart feeling lighter than ever before.
âgoodnightâ he replies, his voice soft and warm.
as the door closes behind you, he takes a small step back, a mixture of relief, gratitude, and lingering happiness filling his heart. the evening had been everything he hoped it would beâthe laughter, the banter, the small gestures of affectionâand he feels a sense of satisfaction knowing that he made you feel special and happy.
he lets out a gentle sigh, his mind replaying the moment of your lips brushing against his cheek. the memory warms his heart, and a small smile appears on his lips.
nanami stands outside the door for a moment, letting the warmth of the evening linger in his heart. the soft sounds of your presence on the other side bring a sense of comfort and joy that he hasnât felt in a long time. he takes a deep breath, soaking in the calm atmosphere of the shared apartment, the memories of laughter and connection still fresh in his mind.
as he hears you settle into your room, he finally opens the door, stepping inside with a gentle smile still gracing his features. the familiar surroundings feel even cozier tonight, as if theyâre wrapping him in a warm embrace, reflecting the happiness of your date.
he glances over at your closed door for a moment, a sense of protectiveness washing over him. he thinks about how lucky he feels to have shared such a lovely evening with you, his heart fluttering at the thought of what the future holds.
after a brief pause, he walks into his bedroom, the door clicking softly behind him. he takes a moment to collect his thoughts, still wearing that contented smile, feeling a newfound sense of hope and anticipation for the days to come. as he prepares for bed, the echoes of your laughter and the warmth of your presence linger in the air, making him feel grateful for the bond you both share.
nanami settles into his bed, the cool sheets feeling inviting against his skin. his mind replays the events of the night, the images of your smile and the sound of your laughter replaying over and over again in his mind. he can still feel the warmth of your hand in his, the press of your body against his, and the soft touch of your lips on his cheek.
despite the late hour, he feels wide awake, his heart still beating fast with the residual excitement of the evening. the memories of dinner, the playfulness of your banter, the gentle intimacy between you, all seem to swirl through his mind.
#nanami x reader#nanami x y/n#nanami x you#kento nanami x reader#jjk x reader#jjk fluff#jujutsu kaisen fluff#nanami fluff#nanami kento fluff#jujutsu kaisen fic#jujutsu kaisen imagine
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chemical override (5)
Ewan Mitchell x actress!reader
a/n: the support for this fic has been amazing, so trust me when I say that I take no pleasure in all the angst and heartache that follows (or do I?) I'm sorry, readers. I'm sorry, Ewan. We'll sort this out somehow - all my love, Freyja <3
series masterlist âȘïž main masterlist
A beginning. A first date. Whispers, sightings abound. Falling in love. A necessary lie. Hearts breaking. An end.
Ewan stands in a studio backlot in LA, bouquet of flowers clasped in one hand while the other is nervously stuffed in his tracksuit pocket.
He's itching for a smoke, but he stops himself from doing so, in some lovesick attempt to keep himself as clean and nice-smelling as possible when he sees you again. He already mentally kicked himself for not dressing better, clad in his staple Adidas blacks. But he couldn't wait any longer.
His flight from New York to LA hadn't been the most pleasant. His mind raced for hours, the thought of you being his only consolation. His meeting did not go well.
But enough of it. There is you, here, now.
In this moment, you are all that matters.
The first couple of workers make their way out the studio doors, chatting enthusiastically despite their tired faces. Ewan shuffles on his feet, keeping an eye out for you. Soon enough, your assistant Clara exits, and he waves in an attempt to get her attention.
"Ewan!" she greets brightly. "She'll be out in a while. Are those flowers?" A blush materialises on her face, and she looks so excited Ewan awkwardly thinks she would take them for herself.
"Yeah, do you think she'll like them?" he asks, giving the bouquet a once-over. The classic dozen long-stemmed red roses, kept together with black-dyed muslin wrap.
"She'll love them!" As if perfectly timed, the doors open again, and they spot you walking out with several of your co-stars. Clara smiles to herself as she walks away to give you two some space.
When your eyes land on him, it's like everything falls into place, the ear-splitting smile you give him enough to quell any worries he might have. You meet each other halfway, melding together in an embrace so tight he nearly drops the flowers to the ground.
"Look who it is," you say, still wrapped in his arms, "the internet's babygirl."
"Just your baby, darling." He pulls apart, but only just enough to look at you. "I missed you."
"Mmm, I can see that."
You're about to comment on the flowers, but he can't hold back any longer.
And so your first proper kiss happens behind an LA studio, adjacent to the parking lot and surrounded by prying eyes. The burnt orange haze of the sunset peers from the horizon, casting a glow on the scene. And it's perfect. His lips are gentle as they dance with yours, his warm breath fanning your face when he breaks apart for mere milliseconds, only to resume the kiss as if he can never get enough.
A moment later, there's a couple of woohoos from a distance, your costars oooing and aahing at the sight, making you giggle against Ewan's lips.
"Shall we, then, darling?" Ewan asks.
"Shall we?" Your brows raise, mirroring his question.
"Our first date." He takes a step back, but only to ceremoniously hold his hand out for you to take. "Will you do me the honour?"
"Why, good sir, are we going on a regular date or some super fancy ball?" you laugh, lacing your fingers with his anyway.
He only smiles, planting yet another kiss on the corner of your mouth. "God, I missed you."
âȘïž âȘïž âȘïž âȘïž âȘïž âȘïž âȘïž âȘïž
You can't help but cast glances at him every now and then. Ewan, effortlessly cool as he drives the both of you across LA, with one veiny hand gripping the steering wheel while the other envelops yours on your lap.
His thumb draws circles on the back of your hand, and you're thankful for it; you need the comfort because you're growing nervous. A first date.
A first date! And not just with anyone.
"What is it?" he smirks, his eyes finding yours as the car idles at an intersection. There's a smugness there. He caught you staring.
You avert your gaze, a pleasant wave of heat rising to your face.
"Hmm?" he leans across, pecking your cheek and resting his forehead against your hair, eager to get a rise out of you. "I mean, I've been told I'm handsome, darling. You already know, something of a babygirl. But it's even more special that you think so."
The light turns green. You grab his jaw, and lightly push him away, raising your eyebrows. "Careful, baby," you smile knowingly. "Your Aemond is showing."
"Oh, yeah?" The car revs up again, rows of palm trees speeding past in a blur. "Does that - uhh - turn you on?"
Your head snaps to him at his bold insinuation. He gives off an unaffected air, smirking to himself in an undeniably hot what-are-you-gonna-do-about-it way. But you make him nervous too. He swallows, and clears his throat, anticipating your response.
"Maybe," you bite your lip, squeezing his hand harder, "but you don't need to put on your Aemond to turn me on."
"Just me, then?" he chuckles lowly, feeling lighter.
"Yup," you shrug. "But if you ever wanna put on a blonde wig and an eyepatch, I won't stop you."
"For when, darling?" Oh he knows what you meant. It's been a constant on his mind too. He's lost count of the nights when thoughts of you consume him, and what happy news it is that you might have been going through the same.
"Mmm... " You look out the window innocently, but you guide his hand higher up on your thigh, allowing his fingers to splay open and squeeze at the flesh covered only by the material of your jeans.
A minute passes. Driving past a street of exclusively only mansions and expensive cars. Then downtown, low-rise buildings as far as the eye can see. Another minute, slow and steady.
Then he says, "You're going to fucking drive me insane, baby."
A soft sigh escapes your lips. "Well, you started it."
He sneers, accompanied by a humourless shake of his head. "I think you overestimate my self-control." The air is thick, but it's quickly diffused when he pulls into a clearing. You realise you're out of the main road, the car slowly coming to a halt in an empty lot beside a low brick building.
"We're here, darling," he says, but he gives you a look that clearly means this matter isn't over. You have something of his, and he's going to claim it.
He half-jogs over to your side, opening the door for you and taking your hand in his.
"Where are we?" The building is nondescript, with a plain white facade, a small cafe and a laundromat on street level, both of which happen to be closed.
"Had to call in a favour from an old mate of mine. His family moved here from Derby a couple of years ago, and they own that laundromat over there," he explains, leading you inside through a door in the side alley.
You're met with a narrow flight of stairs and he gestures for you to go ahead. "What have you got up your sleeve, Mitchell?" you ask, excitement taking root as you climb up to the very top.
It only takes three floors before you reach the heavy steel door of the roof deck. He shuffles to your side, one hand on your back to keep you steady, and pushes the door open which relents with a loud squeak.
You're met with something you have only seen before on Pinterest boards - the rooftop is softly aglow from hanging string lights. In the far side, a screen projector is set up, and in front of it is a low plush sofa cocooned amidst throw blankets and cushions. There's a wooden tray on one on the blankets, containing treats of all sorts and a bottle of wine glistening in its ice bucket.
You take in the magical ambience of the scene with widened eyes. The haze of faint LA sunlight only serves to make everything more beautiful, though it seems hardly necessary.
"Do you like it, darling?" he asks and what a ludicrous question it is. Do you like it?
He continues, "I admit I didn't have to lot of time to set it up, and I had a bit of help but - mmmpph - "
You lace your hands around his neck, silencing him with a searing kiss. He moans unto you, his tongue dipping past your lips as he nearly relinquishes control. He could forget about the set up, the date he had planned, and just take you here on the rooftop. Would you let him?
"I take it that everything is to your liking?" he purrs, watching you in adoration as your head swivels on its own accord to canvas the scene yet again.
You spot something in the corner - a bouquet of fresh flowers surrounded by some lightweight paper lanterns.
"Oh no!" you moan. "The flowers you gave me... I left them in the car!"
He laughs fondly at the sheer panic on your face. "Don't worry about them, my love. I've got more flowers for you here." He points to the bouquet you just saw.
"But those ones... won't they wilt or something? I don't want them to go to waste."
His heart swells at your genuine concern. The furrow between your brows, the way you chew on your lip in worry, your fingers absentmindedly clutching his wrist - it all makes him fall even harder.
"They'll be fine, darling."
"Are you sure?"
He nods once, pulling you in, "Mhmm, just... come here, please." Another kiss, gentler this time.
This is bliss, he thinks, sweet solace after his days in New York, days he aims on forgetting from now on.
You eventually find yourselves on the velvet seat, the tray of food nestled on your laps. He pours wine into the paper cups as you reach for a chocolate-covered strawberry and bring it to his lips.
"Thanks, love," he mumbles with his mouth full.
"Oh, baby, you've got chocolate on there," you motion to his bottom lip.
He sets the cups of wine on the tray, making a move to wipe it off, but just as his fingers hover, his mind takes on an alternative action.
"You do it, then," he leans close, tilting his jaw.
"Okay." With a smile, you begin to oblige him, but you halt when he playfully says, "Not with your hands, darling."
You feel your heart race at his teasing, and at the way he stares at you with blatant desire. Never mind the fact that you were just making out moments ago. The rush of being with him has not subsided. Maybe it never will.
You kiss him, paying mind to the smudge on his lip, licking your own lips afterward to savour the taste.
You pull back slightly. "All better," you say, patting his cheek lovingly.
"Hmm," he hums, "I suppose I'll just have to make a mess of myself more often."
âȘïž âȘïž âȘïž âȘïž âȘïž âȘïž âȘïž âȘïž
Nightfall had already descended when the credits to The Princess Bride start rolling, dotting the sky with twinkling stars.
Ewan has his arm wrapped around your shoulders, pressing a kiss to the crown of your head, before he declares, "If they ever do a remake to this film, I'll only take the role if you would be my Buttercup."
"As you wish," you smile, nuzzling closer against his black hoodie. "I remember watching this when I was a kid. Believe it or not, it was one of the films that inspired me to get into acting."
"Did you wanna be Buttercup, my Buttercup?"
"No," you respond. "I wanted to do what Inigo Montoya was doing. He's so insanely cool."
"Of course you did," he says affectionately, "my darling."
"What about you, hmm? Did you always want to be an actor?" you ask. You might have read an interview of his where he explains something to that effect, but he doesn't need to know that now.
"As far as I can remember, yes. It was always going to be acting for me. Even when everyone laughed it off when I brought it up in primary school." He shakes his head, the once bitter memory reduced to an anecdote. "I... I find purpose in what we do, being able to slip inside different skins, different lives. It allows me to explore the human psyche, you know, and to make sense of all this madness."
You listen intently, in awe at his words and his sheer sincerity. The world is made better with Ewan able to live his passions. And you feel fortunate that his life is one he may be willing to share with you, if everything goes well down the line.
"I almost forgot - you have to tell me about how your big meeting went."
He shifts slightly, eyes darting downward as he pouts on instinct. He realises he can no longer keep the subject under wraps.
You sense his reluctance, and immediately try to soften your approach. It could have gone either way, and though rejection is part of an actor's bread and butter - you certainly would know - there are some instances where you just let it get to you.
"Is this producer as scary as they say?" you ask lightly, poking his chest.
He smiles, but his expression is still clouded. "You know those mafia dons in Scorcese's movies? This guy practically inspired them, I'd say."
"Goodness."
"He did try to give off a welcoming air, but there was still something... sinister underneath."
"I suppose when anyone is afforded this much power..."
"Especially in this industry..."
"Mhmm." Face half-burrowed in the soft material of his hoodie, you tilt your head up at him. "So it was a bust, huh?"
He shrugs, "The role just wasn't for me. It's all for the best, I reckon."
You hold his hand tight, eager to soothe any worries he might have. "That's a shame. They would have been damn lucky to have you."
He smiles, flattered by your comment. "I am lucky to just be here with you, darling."
You smile in return, tilting your lips to his, coaxing him to lean in close and seal the kiss.
And he does.
And this is the most perfect first date there ever was or ever will be.
"Darling?"
"Hmm?"
"I think I've fallen in love with you."
âȘïž âȘïž âȘïž âȘïž âȘïž âȘïž âȘïž âȘïž
The next few weeks pass blissfully slowly, you and Ewan caught in the euphoria that only a fresh relationship can bring.
Rehearsals for your upcoming movie had ended, and you get a month off before filming begins in Atlanta. Ewan also stays in LA, keen on spending every waking minute with you. His team takes advantage of the situation, booking him for several interviews and a feature with Esquire. You were more than happy to accompany him - or rather, distract him - on these occasions.
Once, the team even jokes that you had to stay in the other room because Ewan keeps looking over at you behind the camera and forgetting what to say. Ewan, of course, quickly protests. "My girl stays with me," he confidently says.
It doesn't take long for news to spread. Rumours, at first. Allegations bred from blurry fan photos and supposed encounters with yourself and Ewan while out in LA.
They were holding hands!
They're not just friends, I swear. He was kissing her the whole time in the restaurant!
What about her and Jacob? I thought they'd been dating all this time?
House of the Dragon stars spotted on a date in Hollywood!
Headlines. Gossip fodder. Statements made by people who claim to have seen you.
Sure, you do meet some of the sweetest and friendliest fans during all this, who only gush at the sight of their favourite actors getting together.
There are others, especially online, who are less pleasant, accusing you of cheating on your supposed lover Jacob Elordi.
Jacob, already used to rolling with the punches, gives you a call so the two of you can laugh it off together.
"I'm happy for you, mate," he expresses, voice muffled from the other line. "You and Ewan... you guys just make sense. Do you remember that night when he stormed in all jealous like? Holy shit..."
As if on cue, Ewan shifts underneath the sheets from behind you, peppering your naked back with soft kisses. "Tell him I said hi," he whispers, his tone doing nothing to mask his possessiveness.
And so the days roll on, and it couldn't be more perfect.
That is, until the first cracks started to show. As they always do.
You're in a meeting with your publicist Mallory, at one of the many quaint hipster cafés in LA, discussing your upcoming filming schedule and the other things you have booked in between.
"You've got a busy few months ahead, but the film is of course top priority," she says. "It's slated to be the top rom-com of next year."
"That's great, Mal."
"I mean, I think you know that Ewan was meant to lead that romance-fantasy franchise? That's a big deal, and people are saying it'll be bigger than Twilight!" she gestures wildly with her hands. "But since he had a falling out with Bruce Haversham - and trust me, if he ever sets up a meeting with you, you do not want to go against him - what was I saying? Oh yeah, the release for that will be delayed so your film will get prime spot for a summer premiere."
You grow apprehensive at her words. Ewan never got into detail about that meeting, and you didn't really want to pry. But if that producer's reputation is indeed accurate, it doesn't bode well for Ewan's career that he might have done anything that displeased him.
With a sickening dread, you realise that Haversham might have something to do with Ewan failing to book the two films he went for in the past month. Despite the fact that the local casting director practically raved about his audition, and stated that he pretty much had both of the roles in the bag.
"Mal, you know Donna right? Ewan's publicist?" you ask, knowing that she and Donna are under the same agency. "Does she talk to you about Ewan at all? About what went down in New York?"
"A little, honey, yes," she admits. "But about that meeting, I thought you would know. He didn't tell you?"
"Not in too many words, no. Just that it didn't work out, and that the film wasn't meant for him."
"Oh, I see," she smiles, almost ruefully, like she feels sorry for you. That look compels you to ask, "What do you know, Mal? Tell me."
Her hand reaches and clutches yours atop the table. "From what I heard, he refused the role because of you."
"What?"
"It's rare with young actors like you guys, to be so devoted so early on."
Growing impatient, you say, "Mal, please, what are you saying?"
"Look, I don't know the details of it. But apparently Haversham wanted him to get into a PR stint with his love interest for the film, and to hide whatever real relationship he has going on with you. This ordeal was going to be more restrictive than the arrangement you have with Jacob, which is more or less over at this point."
"I didn't know that," you whisper hoarsely.
"Honey, don't worry about it," she consoles you, taking a sip of her coffee. "Like I said, I don't know much. I can get you in touch with Donna if you want to speak with her? I'm 100% positive it's not all bad. There's one thing we can be sure of, at least!"
You look at her expectantly, unable to formulate a guess.
"That boy loves you!"
âȘïž âȘïž âȘïž âȘïž âȘïž âȘïž âȘïž âȘïž
With only a few days left before filming, you had begun to make the final preparations before moving to Atlanta.
It's a late night, one laden with anxiety and nervous jitters, and the several shots of whiskey you had just taken do little to keep the walls from closing in.
Although, perhaps, it is better if they do. If they imprison you, even just for tonight, to keep you from whatever it is you plan to do.
It's for the best. I have to do this. I'm doing this for him, you keep telling yourself. You keep repeating the lies, letting them bounce relentlessly in the walls of your mind, until you fool yourself into thinking them to be true.
You had met with Donna a few days prior, and the whole situation was made clear to you. You didn't know for certain when the decision formed in your mind, but it's there, as real as the love you feel for Ewan.
The love you will have to bury.
He picks you up in his rental Rover, after you told him that you wanted to go for a drive. But you ask him to park his car behind the private apartment building where you're staying.
The car grinds to a halt, like a signal for you to get it over with. There is no going back now.
"Ewan... I - " You can't push the words out, more so when he reaches for your hands and squeezes. He looks at you with those eyes, expecting anything but what you're about to say.
"I'm sorry," you try again, and your voice breaks. His face slowly drops, the mood instantly changed, but the worse is yet to come.
"What are you sorry for, darling?" He rubs his thumb along your cheekbone, the sensation willing you to just abandon your plan completely. To abandon the lie.
"Whatever happens..." Just get it over with. "...I want you to know that I'll always be here for you. We are friends first, aren't we?" Peel the bandaid. Rip it off. Let it bleed.
"I'm afraid I don't follow," he says.
You sound robotic, emotionless. But one wrong turn and the floodgates may break. There's a lump in your throat and you push it down. Reminding yourself to act - use your fucking acting skills if you actually have any. Now's the time. "We can't be together, Ewan."
There it is, sounding itself into existence, ruining the love you have in front of you.
His hand drops, as if he recoils back into himself. Away from you. It's cruel, but you know you will have to do more damage. You have to make it stick. This becomes clear when he says, "No", with conviction. "No, darling," he repeats. "Don't be ridiculous."
"Ewan - "
"You're not being funny, darling." He tilts his head, testing you, giving you the chance to retract your words and start laughing at your twisted joke. Darling comes out a mockery, something to say out of spite.
He takes a deep breath, leaning back in the driver's seat. "I don't... I don't accept this." He looks straight ahead, his lips pursed and jaw taut. "Fucking... why ?"
"I just... don't think it's going to work out."
"Bullshit."
Your words come out rushed, "You should take that role. I don't want you to hold back just for me. This could be something really great for you, Ewan. This could be it! Most actors pray for an opportunity like that to come along and I wouldn't want you to - "
"That's the reason?"
" - refuse it because of me. So we should - "
"Stop."
" - end this."
Silence. Not a single sound in the near-empty parking lot. No sirens in the distance, no pedestrian chatter. Just slow, heavy breathing in this rental car, both of you looking out the windshield. It feels stuffy all of a sudden, and not in the heated way when your limbs entwined in a jumble in the backseat a mere week ago.
"Please. I... I don't want to end this," he pleads. His knuckles are bone white, harshly gripping both sides of the steering wheel in an attempt to anchor himself. He shakes his head, and with some sense of hope, he says, "I don't care about that role. Okay? It's not the end of the world if I don't accept it. Have some faith in me, darling. I'll make it work. Surely there are plenty of other things down the line."
"Ewan," you whisper. You knew he would say this, which is why you prepared something worse. If that were even possible. You suck on your teeth, pulling on whatever poison you keep hidden away. You sigh and look away, a gesture that lets him know nothing will change your mind. "This fucking PR relationship business... it gets to you, you know? We don't know any better. I for one never expected to feel this way about - "
"About?" he finally turns to shoot you a look of betrayal, the pain in his eyes clear as day.
"I might have feelings for Jacob," you lie, "or I might not, I don't know. But there's something there, and I... I can't let this - us - go on while I'm conflicted about everything. It wouldn't be right."
Nothing about this is right.
But you go on, "I'll be off filming, with him, for a couple of months. And it's only going to make everything more confusing, and it wouldn't be fair to you, I know that - "
"I love you."
It's the first time he ever utters those three words, completely and without any doubt. He says them, despite everything you said before. And he means it.
A tear falls down your cheek, and you squeeze your eyes shut to keep the rest at bay.
"I'm sorry," you look at him, in finality, and you want nothing more than to passionately kiss him hard on the mouth, to hold on to him tight and plead for him not to let you go. With your quivering form, you amble out of the car. Every step worsens the weight of what just transpired. His side of the car opens, and he calls for you, but you can't bear to look back.
He catches up to you, breathless and with a wild look in his face. His blue eyes swell with tears, but his brows are scrunched down as if he isn't bothered by them.
"I want you to look me right in the eye and tell me we don't matter. I want you to tell me you don't love me," he says, and it's the most vulnerable you've ever seen him. He searches your eyes for something, anything to hold on to. Part of him is still desperate enough to grasp at straws, on the hope that you will change your mind.
But the other hardened part, has become angry. Indignant. Because how could you do this to him? The only girl he has ever loved. So he needs to hear it from you, clearly. He needs you to drive the final nail on the coffin.
"I do love you," you croak, and you do nothing to stop your tears from flowing freely.
"Darling..."
"But I can't be with you," you turn away, one last time. "Goodbye, Ewan."
âȘïž âȘïž âȘïž âȘïž âȘïž âȘïž âȘïž âȘïž
Some time ago, during the meeting in New York...
The lush office was laden with expensive wooden furniture, one side with built-in shelves displaying film awards and plaques of varying degrees of prestige. A full glass minibar occupied the other side.
The casting director introduced himself as Bruce, insisting that Ewan call him by his first name and not any of that "sir or similar stick-up-the-ass names". Ewan can see him as a mentor or maybe even a friend, Bruce insisted.
After all, they were going to help each other out a lot...
(to be continued)
Taglist: @sprinklesprinkle888 @namelesslosers @skymoonandstardust @valyrianflower @luckyfirebasement @omgsuperstarg @elissanatok @callsignwidow @sinistersnakey49 @darkwriteracademia @yyrzmomo @queenofshinigamis @luvaerina @shamelessblazecrown @mirandastuckinthe80s @elleinex0x0 @pierrotlu @aegonswife @strangersunghoon @lunampacheco @writer-ann-artist @gaiaea @of-swords-and-words @ateliefloresdaprimavera @m00n5t0n3 @helaenaluvr @peachysunrize @annie-ruk @luvly-writer @ananas26t @athenafaes @lovelyteenagebeard @mamawiggers1980 @moongirl27 @katherine93 @barnes70stark @justbelljust @cloudroomblog @somestufftoday @esposadomd @girl-in-the-chairs-void @insideyourimagination @hotdismylife @vyctorya @wildrangers @livcookesgf @dracaryxzs @aemondwhoresworld @aisselasstuff @onlyrealjoy
Update! Read the second bonus chapter here ~
đ next chapter
HOW DARE YOU, reader. How dare you.
The gif above paints a clear picture of Ewan's heart breaking in the car đ„Č just in case you guys needed a visual aid đ„Čđ„Č
Next chapter - the meeting in New York, the reader's conversation with Donna, and.... we see them move on from each other (?) You know these bloody actors, one relationship in the first half of the year and then another right after...
Feel free to come for me in the comments <3 it was the most heartfelt chapter, after all. Also, let me know what yous want the bonus chapter to be about!
#ewan mitchell#ewan mitchell x reader#ewan mitchell imagine#house of the dragon#aemond targaryen#chemical override
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suna rintaro âą christmas eve princess
âcâmon, baby. donât be like that.â
you huffed back at your boyfriend, your arms crossed over your chest as you childishly pouted. you walked ahead of him, continuing your journey to the passenger seat of his luxury car.
âhey, sweetheart, stop.â he chuckled as you continued to ignore him.
the silent treatment that you played didnât let up as you neared his car in the storeâs packed parking lot, much to his dismay. he stayed behind you, his large hands filled with your familyâs christmas gifts you both had just purchased last minute.
it started out small, this argument did.
suna, ever the lazy man he is, pushed aside gift buying for weeks as your schedule filled once finals season approached, resulting in your shopping to begin the night before christmas. to say that you were irritated would be an understatement when you found that there were no gifts to wrap.
you wanted to kill rintaro, and even contemplated makibg sleep on the couch for a weekâ but it was christmas eve and even though he was annoying, you still wanted nothing more than to be near him during this holiday season.
angry or not.
as you approached your passenger door, you turned around briefly to take one look at him.
his hair was collecting snowflakes, the jet black locks speckled with white fuzz beautifully. his strong arms were carrying two heavy bags and one large electronic box for your younger sibling, and although he looked as if the items were nothing compared to him, you could tell that he was struggling slightly to carry them all in this cold, and his long fingers were most likely numb from the cold.
âwait, just a second. you know that youâre not allowed to open your own door; thatâs my job.â suna corrected as your glove clad hand reached the car door handle.
you rolled your eyes, but felt your heart warm a few temperatures at his manners.
âlet me just set these in the trunk and iâll get you in that nice and toasty car, âkay? donât want my princess getting too cold.â he explained as he popen the trunk, and carefully set the gifts in there.
you waited patiently, frustrated at him, but nevertheless ignored him still.
he tucked his frozen hands in his pockets breifly as he walked around the your side of the car, sending a flirty wink your way as he watched your eyes follow his moves briefly before looking off in the distance.
âi saw that, pretty girl.â he chuckled under his breath as he reached you.
the close proximity of him suddenly, caused a warm feeling to envelop your cold body. his scent filled your lungs as you breathed in the harsh air, your eyes nearly rolling back at the smell.
he was intoxicating.
his bare hand covered yours to gain your attention, wanting nothing more than to see your eyes on him once moreâ those pretty eyes that he adored.
when you didnât budge, he let out an airy laugh at your behavior,
âsweetie, câmon. look at meâŠâ his voice was nearly teasing, catlike in every way as he spoke.
âwhat?â you harshly huffed out.
âah, there she is. thereâs your pretty voice that i missed so much.â he gently cooed at you. you found it condescending.
âwhat do you want, rintaro? iâm cold.â you were icy cold when you asked him, your voice cruel.
he ignored your attitude, tucking a loose strand behind your ear before caging you against the car door.
ârintaro! what is wrong with you? iâm freezing and i have to go home and wrap presents because you,â you shoved your finger against his coat covered chest. âdidnât tell me that we didnât have any until last minute! now, iâm going to be exhausted all fucking day tomorrow because iâll go to bed lateâ.
he smirked as you shouted quietly at him, careful not to make a scene.
he didnât want to invalidate you in anyway, because he knew very well that he fucked up this year, but something about how adorable you looked in your puffy coat he bought you had his heart bursting. you looked so damn cute, exclaiming about your worries while you dressed warmly. your cheeks were flushed from the harsh cold, your nose beginning to run as well.
you had his whole heart and you didnât even realize it.
you noticed the smug look on his face, immediately resulting in a punch to his shoulder.
he hissed in pain lowly, his broad body flinching back slightly before the hand covering yours nursed the now sore muscle.
âouch, baby. that was awfully mean of you, donât you think?â
you huffed in annoyance before turning around and opening the door yourself. but, just as you opened it, your boyfriend was quick to shut it with his knee.
âhey! what is your-â
he face leaned closer to yours, his cold nose touching your own freezing one. his dark eyes bored into yours and his lips brushed against yours gently.
âyou know only i open this door for you, no one else. not even you.â he whispered darkly, his voice raspy.
you nodded slowly, allowing him to reach next to you and open the door back open for you, his eyes never leaving yours. he backed up enough for the door to fully open.
âgo in.â
you obeyed reluctantly. you slid into the luxurious car, the soft heated cushions ïżŒwelcoming you happily with comforting warmth. you let out a satisfied sigh at the feeling, before turning your attention back to your doting boyfriend. he leaned in towards you slowly, your breath hitched as his torso entered the warm car. his face became nothing but a few inches away from yours, giving you the impression that he was going to give you a forgiving kiss. but instead, he reached a few inches behind him, and pulled the seatbelt around your lap before buckling it.
âgotta keep my little princess safe, donât i? these roads are icy, brat.â
you nodded along, at loss for words.
âsuna?â you called out after a few moments of thought as he was exiting the vehicle.
he stopped momentarily, crouching over slightly to hear and look at you as you spoke.
âkiss me.â you whispered.
he smiled wide, and if his cheeks werenât frostkissed you couldâve seen the blush that creeped upon him at your words.
âof course.â
#suna đ·#suna rintaro x reader fluff#suna rintaro#suna rintaro fluff#suna rintaro x reader#suna x reader#suna rintarĆ#haikyuu fluff#suna fluff#haikyuu x reader#haikyuu x chubby reader#haikyuu x reader fluf
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Bound by Moonlight [Yan!Long-distance boyfriend x Fem!Reader]
Warnings: Yandere themes, manipulative behaviors, the yapping goes crazy, slightly suggestive themes towards the end, victimization, gaslighting, etc.
+
"I think we should break up."
Yujin's eyes flickered open, awakening at the sound of your words. Slowly, his orbs focused on your face, and in a swift motion, he sat up from your lap. The warmth of your embrace briefly withdrew, leaving him staring into your eyes. He resembled a deer caught in the gaze of headlightsâfrozen, with a palpable sense of confusion enveloping him.
"What....?"
His lips could only muster that simple word, as though the syllables you had uttered before were alien, like an unexpected symphony he never fathomed hearing.
"I think...I think we should break up."
You summoned your courage and spoke once more, aiming for bluntness to conceal the cracks of fear hinting at your vulnerabilities. Inhaling deeply, you braced yourself, allowing your gaze to momentarily dance away from his hazel eyes, as if an invisible force compelled you to divert your attention, perhaps to shield yourself from the intensity within them.
"I just think...this long distance relationship isn't working out...."
"But, why?"
Yunjin's voice, a gentle inquiry, reached out to you, his fingers delicately intertwining with yours. The warmth of his palm brushed against your cold skin, creating a subtle contrast that sent shivers down your spine. His eyes flickered, teetering on the brink of tears, evoking a momentary pang of sympathy within you.
"I... I've done everything you told me to...I don't understand, [First Name]".
He spoke once more, drawing near until his face hovered just inches from yours, his breath gently caressing your cheeks. In that intimate proximity, the subtle fragrance of his cologne and the hint of peppermint gum enveloped you, creating an alluring blend that lingered in the air like a captivating spell.
"It's not you, Yujin. You're a great person and a wonderful boyfriend.. It's just that...."
In a brief pause, you step away, a fleeting attempt to distance yourself and reclaim mental clarity from Yujin's unsettling presence. However, he remains oblivious to the subtle cues of your discomfort, persistently closing the gap until your shoulder meets the unyielding warmth of his chest.
"It's just... it's just what?"
"I don't think I can live like this. I can't live to see my significant other only once a year, I can't live to talk to you through a phone."
In a rare display of vulnerability, your confession spilled forth, your voice delicately meek, a stark contrast to the depth of your emotions. A suspended hush enveloped the bedroom, the sole symphony being the distant echo of passing trains and the gentle hum of cars traversing the street. In the hush that followed, several minutes wrapped themselves around the scene before Yunjin's voice pierced the stillness. Astonishingly clear, his words resonated despite the recent brink of tears that had gripped him just moments before.
"Yes, you can."
His words shocked you for a moment, for its bluntness and coldness, contrasting the usual warm-hearted and kind Yujin.
"I've worked so hard for you. Worked so hard for us. Yet, you still want to walk away? After everything I've done for you?"
Your gaze remains locked on the wall opposite, your heart quickening its pace. It's a dance between fear and anxiety, the rhythmic thud resonating within you. You sense his gaze, a piercing intensity, as if it could solidify into a tangible force on the side of your face.
"[First Name]."
His words cut through the air, and you couldn't help but flinch visibly. Your name, once a melody on his lips, now escaped in a cold manner, a cadence foreign to your ears. It was a stark departure from the usual warmth that usually accompanied the utterance of your name, a departure from the loving tones and heartfelt renditions.
"Please look at me while I am talking to you."
With a momentary hesitation, you succumb to curiosity, your gaze slowly finding its way to him. Eyes meet in an unspoken exchange beneath the enchanting moonlight. Its gentle dance against his skin paints a paradox â a cold expression softened by the lunar glow, rendering him unexpectedly youthful and almost innocent in appearance.
"I did everything for you. I make sure we have enough money to meet up, I take such good care of you. I cooked for you, I showered and washed you, I take care of you."
With every uttered sentence, his words sharpened, each syllable a dagger cutting through the air. Simultaneously, his grasp on your wrist tightened, the pressure escalating with the cadence of his spoken disdain.
"So I don't understand why you're being so cruel to me? Why you're breaking up with me over such a petty matter? You haven't lost anything, [First Name]. You never did anything to contribute to this relationship, it was all me. But now you're leaving me?"
Continuing with relentless determination, his other hand pressed firmly against your chest, orchestrating a forceful retreat onto the plush expanse of the bed. Your back met the yielding mattress, and despite your instinct to squirm away, he skillfully straddled you, asserting dominance.
In a calculated move, he corralled both your wrists to the sides of your head with his own, rendering any resistance futile. Despite your valiant effort to defy his control, the palpable strength gap between you two became an insurmountable force, leaving you entangled in a struggle where every ounce of resistance seemed to dissipate against his unwavering authority.
"Yujin...!"
Words escaped your trembling lips as you contorted beneath him, his weight bearing down, leaving scant room for escape.
Fear clung to you.
Yujin, known to you for over two years as a soft-spoken and cheerful soul, now morphed into an unsettling entity. His transformation invoked a visceral sense of terror, as though a stranger had replaced the person you thought you knew.
"You don't get a say in this relationship, [First Name]. You don't have the right to decide if we break up or not."
As your wrist gracefully ascended to the crown of your head, delicately supporting itself with a single hand, his deft touch traced a daring path beneath your shirt. A momentary stillness gripped you, an electric pause as his other hand stealthily ventured into the realm beneath fabric, enticing an involuntary pause in the cadence of time.
"Yujin....What are you doing?"
His hands ventured, exploring the contours of your form, causing a shiver to cascade through you as his touch ignited a delicate dance on your most sensitive terrain. In that fleeting moment, his gaze locked onto yours, revealing a hesitant flicker within his eyes, akin to a wavering candle casting uncertain shadows in the cold embrace of the night. Amidst this charged atmosphere, his hand remained suspended, a tantalizing pause in the symphony of sensations.
"Making you stay. Don't worry about catching the flight home tomorrow, I'll contact your family and tell them that you're going to be staying with me for a while."
Without a chance to voice your protest, he leaned in, planting a tender kiss on your lips. Your defenses crumbled, and your lips parted almost on autopilot, surrendering to the rhythmic dance of his tongue against yours. He momentarily withdraws, his eyes glazed and cheeks ablaze with a rosy hue. In the next heartbeat, he leans back in, not for a kiss, but to gently press his forehead against yours, as if sharing an intimate moment. Once more, he spoke, and this time, his voice cradled a returning tenderness, resurrecting the familiar cadence of Yujin that you both knew and held close to your heart.
"So please," he breathed the words, his nose gently brushing against yours in an affectionate caress. Despite the tenderness in his voice, the firmness of his grip on your wrist created a striking contrast. His fingers clamped down with such intensity that his nails seemed to embed themselves into your skin, as though afraid you might take flight like a liberated bird should he dare to release his hold.
"Be good, and stay with me. Forever."
#yandere#yandere x reader#yanderecore#yandere imagines#yandere x you#yandere boy#yandere drabble#yandere male#yancore#yandere oneshot#yandere oc#yandere original character#yandere x darling#yandere x y/n#yandere blog#yandere boyfriend#yandere bf
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Could you do a benedict bridgerton x wife reader where she's having a bath when benedict interrupts and joins her
Steamy
Benedict Bridgerton x wife fem reader
Benedict arrived home later than usual that evening, the weight of the dayâs engagements still lingering on his shoulders. As he walked through the grand hallways of Bridgerton House, the flickering candlelight cast playful shadows on the walls, creating a soothing atmosphere that promised respite from the bustling world outside.
His thoughts drifted to his wife, Y/N. Her laughter, her smile, the way her eyes sparkled when she was excited all these memories brought a gentle smile to his lips. He couldnât wait to see her, to hold her in his arms and let the world fade away.
Benedict made his way upstairs, his footsteps soft on the polished wood floors. As he approached their private quarters, he noticed a faint, melodic sound. It was the gentle splash of water, accompanied by a soft hum. He pushed the door open quietly and stepped inside.
There she was, Y/N, sitting in the clawfoot bathtub, her eyes closed and a serene expression on her face. The room was warm, the air filled with the delicate scent of lavender and rose petals that floated on the waterâs surface. Candles placed strategically around the room bathed everything in a golden glow, making the scene almost ethereal.
Benedictâs breath caught in his throat. He stood there for a moment, just watching her, entranced by her beauty and the tranquility of the scene. Y/N opened her eyes and smiled when she saw him, her cheeks flushing slightly.
âGood evening, my love,â she said softly.
Benedictâs smile widened as he walked over to the tub. âGood evening, darling,â he replied, his voice low and filled with affection.
Without another word, he began to undress, his eyes never leaving hers. Y/Nâs gaze followed his movements, a mix of curiosity and desire in her eyes. As he removed the last of his clothing, he stepped into the tub, the warm water enveloping him.
He settled behind her, pulling her close so that her back rested against his chest. She sighed contentedly, leaning into him as his arms wrapped around her. They sat like that for a moment, enjoying the closeness, the feel of each other.
âBenedict,â Y/N murmured, her voice a mere whisper.
âYes, my love?â he replied, his lips brushing against her ear.
She turned her head slightly to look at him, her eyes dark with desire. âIâve missed you.â
Benedictâs heart swelled with love and longing. He cupped her face in his hands, his thumb caressing her cheek. âIâve missed you too, more than words can say.â
Their lips met in a gentle kiss, a slow exploration that quickly turned passionate. Benedictâs hands roamed over her body, caressing her skin, sending shivers down her spine. Y/Nâs fingers tangled in his hair, pulling him closer, deepening the kiss.
The steam from the bath began to fog up the windows, creating an intimate cocoon that shut out the world. The heat of the water and their rising passion mingled, making the air thick and charged with electricity.
Benedictâs lips trailed down her neck, eliciting soft moans from Y/N. He could feel her heartbeat quicken, matching his own. Their hands moved with increasing urgency, exploring, teasing, igniting a fire that consumed them both.
Y/N turned in his arms, straddling his lap, her eyes locked onto his. There was a moment of stillness, a shared breath, before they came together in a fervent embrace. Their bodies moved in perfect harmony, a dance of love and desire.
The water sloshed around them, spilling over the edge of the tub, but they paid no mind. The world outside ceased to exist, leaving only the two of them, lost in each other. The windows were now completely fogged up, the room filled with the sounds of their passion.
Time seemed to stand still as they reached the peak of their desire, their cries of pleasure echoing softly in the steamy room. They clung to each other, their bodies trembling with the intensity of their release.
As the waves of pleasure subsided, they remained entwined, their breaths mingling, their hearts beating as one. Benedict pressed a tender kiss to Y/Nâs forehead, his fingers gently stroking her back.
âI love you, Y/N,â he whispered, his voice filled with emotion.
âI love you too, Benedict,â she replied, her eyes shining with tears of happiness.
Eventually, they reluctantly left the tub, the chill of the air sending a small shiver through Y/N. Benedict, ever attentive, quickly wrapped a plush towel around her, his hands moving gently as he dried her off.
âLetâs get you comfortable,â he said softly, guiding her to the bed.
He retrieved her nightgown, a soft, silky garment that felt like a caress against the skin. Benedict helped her into it, his fingers brushing against her bare skin, sending shivers of a different kind down her spine. His touch was tender and filled with love, his gaze never wavering from hers.
Once she was dressed, Benedict guided her to lie down on the bed, her muscles already beginning to relax. He straddled her hips, his strong hands starting to knead the tension from her shoulders. His thumbs worked into the knots with practiced ease, eliciting a deep sigh of contentment from Y/N.
âYouâre so good to me,â she murmured, her eyes fluttering closed as she let the sensation of his hands work their magic.
âYou deserve nothing less,â Benedict replied, his voice low and soothing.
His hands moved down her back, working out every bit of tension, every stress of the day. The warmth of his touch seeped into her muscles, relaxing her completely. Y/N felt as though she was melting under his ministrations, her body becoming languid and heavy with contentment.
As he finished, Benedict leaned down to press a gentle kiss to her neck. âHow do you feel, my love?â
âWonderful,â she whispered, turning her head to capture his lips in a soft kiss.
He smiled against her lips, his hand cupping her cheek. âGood. Now, letâs get some rest.â
He lay down beside her, pulling her into his arms. They fit together perfectly, like two pieces of a puzzle, their bodies molding to each other as if they were made to be together. As they drifted off to sleep, wrapped in each otherâs arms, Benedict couldnât help but feel grateful for the life they had built together.
And with that comforting thought, he drifted off to sleep, holding the woman he loved more than anything in the world.
#bridgerton imagine#bridgerton fanfiction#benedict bridgerton x wife reader#benedict bridgerton x y/n#benedict bridgerton x female reader#benedict bridgerton fanfiction#benedict bridgerton smut#benedict bridgerton imagine#bridgerton benedict#benedict bridgerton x reader#benedict bridgerton
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The landing | joel miller x f!reader, 13.2k
Summary: You feel him before you see him. Heâs still taking up space in your micro-universe. His sole presence creates ripples through the atmosphere as he walks towards you, softly nudging you to turn your head from your spot to look behind you. Or The one where your orbits finally collide for the final showdown.
Warnings: 18+ MDNI, NO SPOILER (read A/N), ANGST, cheater!joel, discussions of infidelity, mention of food consumption, yelling, crying, the briefest mention of smut thoughts, sprinkle of fluff (blink and you'll miss it), as always let me know if I missed anything đ
A/N: Ok, *deep breath* I know I can't make everyone happy unless I write alternate endings đ
and I understand that infidelity can be a very triggering concept. I gave them the ending I felt they both deserved, but if you're looking for a story where they are at each other's throats for 13k words, maybe this is not for you and you are more than welcome to kindly move on. I won't spoil the ending in the Warnings, so proceed with caution, you know what the main theme is all about. All I can tell you is that this part of the story is divided into two main scenes because I didn't want to drag it out with one little scene after another. *she says after spilling 13k wordsđsorry about thatđ* As always, I would love to read your thoughts on the last part and please keep in mind that writing is almost always self-indulgent.
P.S. I want to thank each and every one of you for the love I received for this mini-series, I never thought it would engage so many people. Thank you, from the bottom of my heart. You've all been so kind and sweet to me, so this journey filled my heart with joy! I love you all, take care of yourselves and I'll see you -hopefully- in the comments! Oh! My asks are always open if you want to know more about their story. I could even write drabbles or one-shots about anything you'd like to know in particular. Ily, bye đ
P.S. I deliberately left the last two lines without clarification of who says what, I leave that up to you. đ€
Dividers by @cafekitsune @saradika-graphics @plum98
Main Masterlist | Series Masterlist
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FOUR YEARS AFTER THE FALL
Are you still falling?
Youâre not sure anymore. Maybe youâre just used to it. Or maybe you just learned how to fly. It certainly feels like everything has slowed down. Sometimes it feels like floating. As if youâre a feather, so lightweight, swirling around aimlessly. But you can never touch the ground. Gravity canât quite pull you down. Every time you feel like youâre finally landing, a force of nature pulls you back up.
Maybe it is a soft, warm, summer breeze, a memory of Joel.
Maybe it is a whirlwind, a contact from the lawyers.
Maybe it is a snowstorm, sign the papers, please.
Maybe it is the whispering of a gentle wind, the possibilities of what might have been, or the lack of real closure.
But itâs nice here. Even between the earth and the sky.
You never thought youâd enjoy leaving the big city and making a home for yourself on a ranch. But you loved it. You loved the peace and quiet, you loved this new community of people, you loved taking care of the horses, riding them, being around them. And then there was the house. A place you could almost call home. It was beautiful, rustic, warm, inviting, lacking none of the comforts a modern house needs, because you canât quite get the big city girl out of you. The entire land had a soft, yellow-golden light enveloping every tree and every rock, everywhere your eyes reached, as if the sun shone differently here.
The days are easy. The chores are more than enough to keep you focused, thereâs always something to do around here. It feels good to be busy, to keep your mind from dwelling on the past. You welcome the exhaustion of a full dayâs work that accompanies your body when night comes.
Evenings are mostly good. You shower the day off, you cook, you chill on the couch with a good book or a film and more often than not, as the time passes and you feel more comfortable sharing the privacy of your home, you have friends over for dinner and drinks.
Nights though, nights are hard. At night, you pray that you are tired to the point of exhaustion so that you can sleep through it peacefully. Sometimes it works, but most of the time, not so much.
Time has intensified and lessened your emotional burden simultaneously.
The sharp pain that feels like thick acid being poured into you mellows in an inexplicable way. It still hurts, the pain oozing out of your every single pore even in a physical way. Only now, it has transformed into a sweet, slow poison conquering every hollow of your body, every vein leading from your heart to the ends of your limbs.
Itâs almost a welcoming feeling, this pain, reminding you that youâre still alive, that he was real, that everything that happened was real. Because sometimes, sometimes, when you let yourself relax, when you let your guard down, all of this feels like a dream. Sometimes, you wake up in the middle of the night, confused, reaching with your hand for the other side of the bed and finding it empty. And for a split second you get that feeling. The feeling of how it used to be with him next to you.
Then you remember.
You know why this is happening and whoâs responsible for it. This is a mix-up. This is what your treacherous brain does to mess with your resolve. It blends the bad stuff into the good, creating the strangest of concoctions. The clear image of black and white, neatly and perfectly hung in the center of the walls of your mind is now splashed with colorful memories from your life together, like a Pollock painting. You do your best to resist, to bring back scenes from all the vivid recollections of the night your life changed forever but your uncooperative brain pops another memory up, a good fuckinâ memory, like a projector, illuminating those bare imaginary walls with laughter and touches and whispers and scents and warmth. Itâs relentless.
This dichotomy creates an uneasiness inside you, you choose to reject and pretend not to notice. Which in turn leads to self-contempt because, as always you canât lie to yourself. You may lie to others but deep in your core you have to be honest with yourself. That is something youâre owed. To be aware, present in the reality of your life. So, you know, you know, you just sweep things under the carpet as a copy mechanism. You know what you should do.
You should confront him. You should demand answers and then finally say what you need to say to him. Not for him, not for his sake, but for yours. But you canât. You've lost count of how many times you've picked up the phone and your thumb hovered over his contact to call him but you just canât bring yourself to do it. And every time you tried to text him, to start a conversation, it felt too awkward. The only acceptable subject of discussion initiated by you was the progress of the divorce papers. You were unable to even remotely insinuate a more meaningful encounter. And he didnât make any advances either. Not that you gave him any room to try and talk to you, but still, he seemed more settled with that, rather than not.
Maybe that fact itself was your cue to let it all go. Heâs probably moved on. You donât cheat on someone so blatantly and then want them back. Obviously, this whole delaying of the divorce is a power play, like everything else, it seems.
Good, yeah, thatâs it. Thatâs it.
Now, let go. Move on. You solved it. Let go.
But this annoying little voice is scratching the walls of your weary brain, nudging the limits of the carefully made up serenity thatâs hanging by a thread.
You should confront him. For your peace of mind, for your equilibrium.
But itâs nice here. Even between the earth and the sky.
Joel, will you please sign the papers?
Itâs early in the evening and youâre in the garden in front of the house near the porch, on your knees, plucking a few weeds from the ground. The fatigue of the dayâs work has begun to take its toll on you, your shoulder is slightly trembling as you rest your weight on one palm to dig around with the other. Sweat covers your torso, rolling down between the valley of your breasts and the hollow between your spine, leaving your t-shirt clinging to your skin, your hair sticking to your forehead, which is lightly covered in a thin layer of dirt at some places as you keep wiping your forearm over the little beads of salty water that concentrate over your brows.
You feel him before you see him. Heâs still taking up space in your micro-universe. His sole presence creates ripples through the atmosphere as he walks towards you, softly nudging you to turn your head from your spot to look behind you.
There's an overload of sensations before you shift your body around to confirm what you already know in your bones. You can smell him, taste him, feel him on your suddenly tingling skin, all at the same time.
You turn slowly and your breath hitches on your throat. You just stay in place, frozen, time infinitely stretching as you take him in from where you kneel on the ground. He stops abruptly the second his eyes meet yours and you could swear heâs holding his breath, his face completely unreadable.
He looks.. he looks like your Joel and nothing like him simultaneously. Soft yet imposing. Handsome yet battered. Determined yet lost. His clothing is simpler, dark jeans, green flannel over a black t-shirt and laced boots, as if he just returned from a working site. His curls are longer, framing his handsome face in a ridiculously good way, more white hairs nestle in his beard that is not that trimmed. Neither of you speak quite yet, taking each other in.
Your mind, your bizarre, ridiculous mind is working on figuring out what day it is. Why does it matter? Did you have an appointment? This is unexpected and a long time coming all at once, regardless of the day of the week. What comes next? Do you draw up an astrological map to determine if it's a compatible date for you to meet? Get it together.
Your facial expression must be pretty funny because Joel smiles awkwardly while scratching one side of his bearded cheek; hey, itâs me.
No, shit, you mentally respond, as if you could ever forget him. Furious is the word that best describes you because these are his first words? Hey, itâs me? And that feeling escalates into an explosive retort because you now realize that you had expectations. His first words? Who cares what his first words are? Were you expecting a tearful reunion, masterfully staged and executed like a romantic film? The guy betrayed you in your own house, sorry, his house. Wake the fuck up.
âDid you sign the papers?â you spit as you rise from your spot and he reacts as if you have punched him in the stomach. His face falls; you see a series of micro-expressions pass over his features before he settles on the last one. Has he been hurt? Did you hurt his feelings? Did he also have expectations?
âUh-â, Joel raises his brows in genuine surprise, things probably not going the way he expected or hoped.
âItâs nice to see you, too.â, he replies with mild mockery.
Your eyes snap shut and you laugh in anger, lowering your chin to your chest and then looking back up at him, your eyes blazing, your brows mimicking his previously surprised expression, âAre you serious right now?â you cross your hands defensively over your chest.
You stare at each other for a good minute, both of you taking a moment to compose yourselves and regain your balance.
You break first, dropping your head back to your chest, looking down at the heel of your shoe scraping the ground beneath you, exhaling audibly.
âHey,â Joel tries again, after speaking your name tenderly, your name on his lips, his head dipping down and to the side to try and get your attention back to him, his gaze filled with a mixture of warmth, regret and fear, âhi.â
You shake your head from side to side in repentance, what a great start this is, you keep thinking, âHi.â is all you give him, still not looking at him.
âHi,â he repeats, âitâs really nice to see you, bab-, shit, sorry.â, he winces, covering his mouth with his palm, embarrassment creeping into his features. You let out a quiet laugh, exhaling through your nose. You donât comment on the slip of endearment that leaves his mouth, you donât correct him, accepting privately that you liked it, you missed it, you longed for it.
Joel studies your face, but makes no comment on your silence. âYou look...â he pauses for a split second before deciding to continue, âyou look really good.â He hesitates, he doesn't want his compliment to come across as a feeble attempt to patronize you, because he really means it. You do look good, all sweaty and muddy and human and real. You are real. If he took a few steps forward, he could actually reach out and touch you, feel your skin under his fingertips, smell your heady scent, perhaps discreetly lick the remnants of your sweat from his thumb after carefully removing the strands of hair sticking on your forehead. But he doesnât do that. He doesnât do any of that.
You donât quite know how to respond to that, any answer crossing your mind seems stupid or cheesy or dismissive. How do you respond to a compliment from the man who made you worship in his altar, only to have your faith ripped out of your heart?
His eyes keep roaming over your face, your figure, memorizing everything he can, like a blind man who has finally found his light, while he fidgets with an envelope in his hand which reminds you-
âDid you sign the papers, Joel?â, is what escapes your lips before you can think twice.
âNo.â and now itâs his turn to lower his head, his eyes avoiding your gaze, as he looks down at his feet.
âJoel!â, you exclaim infuriated, rolling your eyes at him, knitting your brows together in a sign of frustration.
âNo, no, itâs not like that. Iâll do it. Iâll do whatever you want.â, Joel raises a hand in your direction to stop you from what seems to be a fair assumption, his palm up, facing you in an unspoken surrender. âI thought that- me, not signing, was a way of showing you how deeply sorry I am, how much I wanted to fix our marriage, but I understand now,â his voice wavers slightly, âthat I need to respect your wishes. Itâs the right thing to do. If this is still what you want, Iâm gonna sign it.â
You donât reply to that last part, only pointing out that âYou didnât have to come all this way to tell me that.â
âNo, I didnât.â Joel agrees.
âThen why are you here?â you insist, reluctant to entertain the idea that he has actually come all this way to apologize.
âBecause I owe you an explanation.â is his honest and direct answer, sending little jolts of electricity through your nerves.
âJoel..â you sigh in exasperation. Not in warning or frustration, not really, but in something else. A feeling you canât really put a name to, the closest you can come to describing it is that of a burden, woven deep into your heart, blossoming rapidly with each beat. There are so many things left unsaid; it makes you feel helpless, like youâre drowning. You want the dam youâve built around your soul over the years to break so everything you've been holding back can finally pour out of you, but thereâs just so much of it, of everything, that youâre terrified. Will the overflowing tank of emotions be completely empty? Will there be anything left unsaid? Untouched? What if the remnants left behind keep licking around your wounds, their waves pushing, shaping whatâs left of you into something new, unrecognizable?
And what if, the tank will indeed be completely empty? What youâll be left with, then? Nothing? Just.. empty? Will you remain empty? What, if anything, will take its place? Will you recognize your new self? Will you like yourself? Will you be able to live in harmony with this shell of a person? This you; you know. You hated and pitied and caressed and comforted and forgave and nurtured you into some version of a new you. But this? Everything will be torn apart, the wounds will be freshly opened, accessible to be examined in detail, plucked and bled and bruised in an all-too-familiar way.
Joelâs voice snaps you out of your trance, âNo, I do. I owe you more than that, actually, but thatâs the least I can do. And I wanna do that while Iâm still your husband. I want to explain myself as your husband. Apologize to my wife, as her husband. Then Iâm gonna sign anything you want me to.â
âAnd if I donât wanna hear what you have to say?â
âThen Iâll just sign the papers and leave you in peace.â Joel confesses in all his honesty.
You just nod, looking down on the ground. You take a deep breath to ground yourself. You can do this. You want to do this. You need to do this.
You walk towards the house and sit down on the steps of the porch, as he looks at you awkwardly, not knowing where to stand. You gesture with a tilt of your head for him to come sit next to you. You can do this. You realize that you didnât invite him into the house and you feel a bit rude for that, but it's beyond your empathetic capacity to deal with him being here and to let him into the house as well. âI just like it out here, itâs calm and-â
âYou donât have to explain yourself to me, whatever makes you feel comfortable; I know you donât want me here any longer than I have to be..â he interrupts you as he sits down next to you, his one side pressing against the end of the stairs, where the railing begins. He places the contract between your bodies, on the wooden floor.
It makes you uncomfortable, his statement, you always want people to feel welcome and relaxed around you. You internally chastise yourself for worrying about his feelings instead of yours, but you canât help it, itâs embedded in your DNA. âItâs OK, Joel, I donât mind, we can talk.â
Joel nods, but he remains silent. You donât break the silence, giving him time to collect his thoughts. He chuckles defeated, shaking his head while rubbing his hand over his face.
âAre you sure?â
âYes, you donât look that mighty to me anymore.â you blurt out before you can stop yourself and you immediately regret it. It didnât sound so insulting in your head. You only meant to say that he doesnât intimidate you anymore. Which is sort of a lie and a truth at the same time. You used to find him imposing, even his mere presence had the ability to make your skin crawl, your heart flutter and your words get catch in your dry throat, you were in awe of him. Every time you laid your eyes at him, even when you were straddling his lap or gazing at his profile as he slept beside you, you always felt as if you were looking up. You admired him.
His heart loses several beats to that. He can read between your lines now. He has lost your respect. Your admiration. The time when you looked up to him in awe is long gone.
âYou know, my therapist warned me about this.â, he chuckles bitterly.
âYour-â you canât hide your shocked expression from him as you search his eyes for any sign of him joking around, but you find none. âYouâve been in therapy?â
âYeah, I-, I spent two years hating myself,â he chuckles deprecatingly, âand then I realized it was time for me to stop being an arrogant prick, so I spent another two doing it all over again with the help of my therapist.â
You laugh wholeheartedly at that and itâs the most beautiful sight heâs ever seen in his entire life. âOK, somebodyâs off to a good start. Go on.â
âYou mean about the therapy?â
âI mean about you admitting you are an arrogant prickâ, you say playfully.
He really laughs now, his eyes crinkle up at the sides. You used to love that. You feel your heart warming up. âYou can thank Maria for that.â
âFor what?â
âFor kicking my ass and pushing me to help myself.â Joel admits. âSheâs a good friend.â
âYeah, she is.â you agree through your laughter, the image of Maria actually kicking Joelâs ass is priceless.
âI missed that sound.â Joel is looking at you softly, as if his gaze could break you.
âHm.â you simply smile at him, not finding it in you to respond with a snide remark. The time for that feels like it has passed, like itâs irrelevant at this point. All you really want is to have an honest conversation, irony be damned.
You both look at your feet in silent consideration for a minute or two. âI thought youâd be mad at me.â Joel reveals.
You exhale through your nose, the edges of your mouth turning up in a gentle smile. âFour years is a long time to be mad at anyone, Joel. Even you donât have that kind of power over me.â
âGood. I have enough burden on my shoulders as it is..â, he mumbles and you decide to change the subject.
How do you admit that you are still mad at him but in a different way? How do you describe the deep scar his existence has carved into your soul making it almost unbearable to even exist without him? How do you explain that youâll always carry him with you, no matter what? How do you instill in him that you still believe in the best version of him, the best version you know he can be, the best version of him you once lived with. Yes, youâre not mad at him for the reasons he thinks you are. Youâre mad at him because the way he made you love him is stronger than any hurt heâs ever caused you.
âSo, what did your therapist warn you about?â
âShe, uh- she tried to prepare me for this.â
âOh? What did she say?â
âThat I should not be prepared.â, he laughs in earnest. âThat I should not obsess about what I want to say and just be open and have an honest interaction.â
âI like her, already.â you say with a straight face.
He smiles softly, looking down at his boots, while he rests his elbows on his knees, one palm encircling the other. âYeah⊠I had some digging to do; I still do for that matter and will be for a long time it seems.â
âAnything you wanna share?â you reply, raising an eyebrow as if you had no idea why he was here.
âOh, boy-â he squirms in his seat, already overwhelmed by the turn of the conversation, his chest almost vibrating with anxiety, he can barely swallow, small beads of sweat starting to form around his temples. You reluctantly reach for his forearm, trying to calm him down. âHey, Joel?â
His whole body stiffens at your touch and he wishes his clothes would evaporate so he could feel your skin against his. He fixes his eyes on your delicate fingers lightly squeezing his tight muscles underneath the fabric. âThe worst part has already happened four years ago, so-â you shrug, âjust breathe.â Joel keeps his eyes on your hand, his heart rate dropping slightly; you ground him. You retract your arm and keep your hands to yourself in an effort to maintain a respectable distance between you. You shouldnât have touched him at all.
âI think- I think I understand now.â he begins, still feeling the ghost of your touch on his forearm. âHow I made you feel, what your words meant. You always did that, you know. And I found it so fascinating and so exhausting at the same time.â
You look at him, confused. Joel continues, âYou always chose your words carefully. You had a reason for every single thing you said. In retrospect, I realized that you were handing me everything on a silver platter, but I was too self-absorbed to see it at the time.â
You nod in agreement, gesturing with your head for him to keep going.
Joel takes a deep breath, holding it inside his lungs for a while. His exhalation is controlled, measured. âFuck. Okay. It was not just the fact itself. It was not just the cheatinâ.â
Your stomach clenches violently at his words. The time has finally come and although you know what happened, you where there, when the words come out of Joelâs mouth it's as if you're pulled back to that threshold all over again. It really happened. You feel your hands sweating. âGo on.â, you pronounce carefully, already anxious your voice is going to betray you. You can do this.
âI donât want to sound all full of myself-â Joel hesitates.
âYou wonât.â you interrupt him with conviction. The truth has never frightened you. You welcome it. It feels like a form of catharsis, it feels like youâre finally being seen. Every nerve in your body is on fire. Youâre ready for this, for the truth, if only he gives it to you. Please, set me free.
âI was your everything.â he whispers, almost embarrassed, his eyes not meeting yours. You donât respond to that, not until he looks at you, although the admission shoots straight through your heart. You stare at the side of his face, almost forcing him to turn to you. He does.
âYou were.â Simple. True. Clear as the light of day.
âAnd I ripped that from you.â
âYou did.â
âIn the worst possible way.â
âHmhm.â, you donât trust the stability of your voice.
âAnd no matter what I say, I can never take back what I did. I humiliated you, our home, our relationship, everything. I-â his brows furrow in an expression of disgust, âI disrespected myself. I burned everything down. I left nothing for you to hold on to, nothing for me to hope for, nothing.â
His chin trembles and his voice wavers as he continues. âThe words to describe how sorry I am have not yet been invented. And even if they had, they still couldnât take the pain away; whatâs done, is done.â
He closes his eyes and rests his head on the railing. âI donât know what I wish for anymore. That you had never met me, so you could be spared all this pain? But I canât. I canât wish that, because Iâm so grateful to have met you. I married you, I had you. That is what has comforted me all these years, what has got me through all those sleepless nights.â He looks absolutely devastated, desperate.
It feels genuine, because heâs not directing it at you, heâs not trying to convince you, heâs not trying at all. âI have not thought about my pain or what I want from all this for a long time. All I pray for is-â his glistening eyes are searching frantically on the ground, his brows knitted together in a painful grimace. You rest your head on the palm of your hand, your elbow on your knee. Watching this moment like an outside observer, you realize that he's trying to live up to your standards, reminding you of a child trying to impress his parents, only to fail regardless of the outcome.
âLook, Joel, couples break up, divorce, all over the world, all the time. And I guess, they all thought their partners were their everything until they finally werenât.â, you rationalize, putting everything that has happened into some kind of perspective. It is not the end of the world. It is the end of your world. He doesnât have to carry this burden on his shoulders for eternity. All you need from him is to understand, to acknowledge what he's done to you, how broken youâve been.
But if he acknowledges that, if he truly comprehends the tremendous pain heâs put you through, wonât all that anguish be transferred to him? Isn't it unbearable for a truly repentant man to know that he has deliberately caused so much pain?
âBut, you see; I wanted that, I needed to be your everything.â
ïżœïżœïżœIt certainly fed your ego..â you grin at him.
âNo, no- I craved that- that look on your face when your eyes were on me, like there was nothing else, no one else around you, but me. You drove me to be better, to move forward; I felt I had a purpose. You were my purpose.â
âWell I didnât do much of a job then, did I?â you smile defeated.
âNo, honey, this-â heâs determined to make you understand that it wasn't your fault, even if it is the last thing he is going to do. He licks his lips trying to formulate his thoughts, â-what happened, had nothing to do with you, I- I was just- I got in my head..â
You shake your head dismissively, âItâs a terrible burden to put people on a pedestal and expect them to-â
âBut you see, baby, thatâs the thing. You didnât.âJoel dismisses your comment and if a bucket of ice-cold water was thrown over your head you wouldnât feel so frozen. You search his eyes for meaning, because deep down it stings to hear that you could give more. Is that what heâs saying? You didnât love him enough? Joel catches on and rushes to explain. âYou-â god this is so hard, heâs struggling, canât he just rip his heart open and let you examine it? âYou loved me so much, baby and you never asked for anything in return. You let me be who I was. You accepted me completely. You set me free.â His eyes are blown wide, burning into yours with intensity. You look so lost, how does all this fit in with what he did then?
âDarlinâ,â he expands further, âwe live in a competitive world. Everyone aims to control each other, from business partners to lovers and spouses; everyone manipulates, everyone tries to tell you where to look, what to do, how to act, how to fuck, how to love. Except for you. You let me be. You put your heart in my hands and you set me free. And I took advantage of that and I am truly sorry. Iâm more sorry than youâll ever know. Thatâs how fucked up I am.â you look at him dumbfounded.
âI canât connect the dots; I donât get it, Joel, Iâm sorry, I-â you run your fingers through your hair, scratching your scalp in frustration. What does he mean?
Joel winces mid-sentence because he canât escape whatâs coming. This is his last resort. And he knows it is going to sound cruel and he doesnât even mean the first part the way you're going to perceive it, but for lack of better words, for lack of the better person he could have been, a person who should have never put you in this position in the first place, here goes.
âShe made me feel wanted; you made me feel free.â,
he spits out in a hurry, praying to whatever god is listening, that you wonât even catch it, knowing full well that these may be the last words you'll ever let him speak to you.
You are utterly, completely, perfectly shocked.
Then you feel it for the first time in what feels like ages. That old friend consuming you. Rage. It burns your lungs, twists your guts and pierces your heart like a thousand needles. Everything becomes crystal clear. Youâre so infuriated, that your mind goes blank. A million words and nothing at all come to your mind simultaneously.
âLet me- let me rephrase that, because actually it was never even about her, I just-â Joel begins, in a vain attempt to stop the tide from crushing you both.
Your palms become clenched fists in front of your mouth, pressing against it, crushing the velvety skin of the inside of your lips against your teeth until you draw blood, in an effort to control yourself. You inhale sharply, keeping your eyes fixed on the land in front of you, blurred by the tears gathering in your waterline.
âShe- what?â are the only words you manage to choke out.
âBaby, it doesnât matter, it was never about her, she was a means to an end and-â your eyes bulge out of your sockets at the statement, âI know- I know how that sounds- just-â his palms come together in a prayerful gesture, begging you to give him a chance to explain.
âA means to an- what the fuck are you talking about, Joel?â the veins on your forehead swell under your skin, creating a map of the river of wrath flowing aggressively through your body.
âIt was never an affair sweetheart, but a transaction; one I initiated. She was only a boost to my ego.â
..she made me feel wanted..
..a boost to my ego..
It's all starting to make sense now, and it's the last thing you expect to be confronted with. You've always imagined either a heated affair, a secret love story, him realizing he had found his soul mate in someone else, or him getting bored with you, finding you too much or too emotional or too unlovable. It turns out that you were accused of the one thing you never were.
âAre you-, oh god,â you can hear your heart pounding in your ears now and it takes every ounce of strength not to vomit, âare you saying that you fucked someone else; you fucked your secretary for fuckâs sake, you fuckinâ clichĂ© of a man, because I wasnât jealous of you?â. Your throat is so swollen, you try to scream your words at him but they only come out in wrenched whispers.
You stand up abruptly, dizziness causing you to close your eyes tightly as you see a million white dots behind the blackness of your eyelids. Your whole body vibrates with rage. You steady yourself on the railing and then begin to pace back and forth, your hands unable to stay motionless, but moving over your face, through your hair, lowering and squeezing the sides of your waist as you lean slightly forward in a subconscious way to soothe yourself.
âOh my god, oh my fucking god,â you laugh hysterically now, as angry tears run down your cheeks, as if you've been let in on an inside joke. âItâs my fault, everything is my fault-â
Joel is frozen in place, heâs not sure if he should get up and try to reason with you or stay where he is.. or run for the hills. Heâs witnessing the unleashing of a caged animal. His tongue feels heavy and numb in the cavern of his mouth but he dares to speak again, âThatâs the exact opposite of what I said, sweetheart,â he tries to explain in vain, âIâm sorry if thatâs what I-â but youâre not listening to a single word he utters.
âPeople kept telling me, urging me on, all my life;â and you slap your palms on the sides of your thighs, looking at his direction, but not really looking, âI should be more controlling, more pushy, more..â your voice begins to fade, muttering to yourself through your teeth. âThey warned me, you know, that the lack of pressure in any kind of relationship would be perceived as a lack of interest.â
Don't trust completely; hold something back; men like the illusion of power; show them you need them; make them jealous; be jealous, like a manual to a pre-installed setting.
Do you agree to the Terms & Conditions?
Press âEnter.â
âBut I didnât listen. I never listened. Because in what world do we choose a leash over freedom?â You turn to look at him now, addressing him as if you were talking to a third party, an outsider, asking for advise or affirmation.
Mariaâs words come back to Joelâs mind, words that he had long forgotten about, finally fitting like missing pieces of a puzzle to the bigger picture.
âMaybe the wrong Miller is on a leash..â
âWhatâs that supposed to mean?â
âMeans that freedom is for those who can bear it.â
âI was really stupid, was I not? What on earth made me think that this time would be any different, what made me think that youâd be any different? Youâre just- youâre just another man-â you spit your vile angrily as your eyes sweep over him. The look in his eyes is devastated, he feels shuttered, reduced to nothing.
âStupid, stupid, stupid little girl. When the fuck will I learn? When the fuck am I going to accept that I don't really belong? When?â
Joel is staring at you bewildered, he never felt more helpless in his life. A thousand new thoughts and questions form in your head, things you didnât even begin to imagine would cross your mind.
âDid you use her?â you ask with renewed vigor, a surge of energy running through your body.
Joelâs cheeks burn with humiliation but he has already admitted it once, what will it do to him to say it one more time? âYes, I never had any feelings f-â
âNo,â you interrupt impatiently, you don't care about his feelings right fuckin' now, âthat night, did you use her? On purpose?â
Joel looks lost for a second but the cogs in his head finally turn and âNO! No baby, I wasnât even aware of you coming home earlier than expected, no. Donât even entertain this idea; it wasnât intentional, I swear to god.â
Oh. Thereâs a new question for Joel. Why did you leave your business trip early? He had never thought about it before, solely focused on everything else that had happened, which now made him wonder, âDid you- did you know?â
âWhat?â you frown, lost in your own thoughts, not following his line of logic.
âDid you know? Is that why you came back early from your trip?â
Youâre still a bit too far gone in your head to think clearly and try to prevent the next question from coming, âOf course I didnât know, Joel, did it look like I did?â is all you say with a bite, annoyed.
âThen why-â Joel insists, pressuring you for an answer, but he doesnât get to finish his sentence.
âI- fuck- I need a minute.â you declare and start to walk towards the house.
Joel waited on that porch for almost an hour, watching the sun set behind the mountain, afraid to move, barely breathing in case you stormed out and threw him back where he came from as if him standing still would somehow make him part of the landscape; as if he belonged.
And you certainly delivered.
He hears the screen door open, his back still to the house. You are standing behind him, your arms crossed stiffly over your chest, your face tilted down, to avoid his gaze. He could see the red-rimmed and swollen eyes of yours, despite your efforts to hide them.
âI canât do this-â
âPlease,â his whole face contorts in agony, âplease, hear me-â you both speak at the same time.
â-tonight.â
âWhat?â his voice matching the look of confusion on his face.
âMaybe another time, but not tonight.â
âI-â he doesnât know how to articulate his thoughts without sounding like an idiot. He drove all this way, four hours straight, to finally get things straight. His brain has short-circuited, unable to put a plan into action. Should he check into a hotel or a motel or whatever the fuck is around here in the middle of nowhere? Should he go back to his place? Do you really want to talk again? You sort of said you did. You said maybe. Fuck. What does he do?
But honestly, what did he expect? That this would be over in the course of one evening? Of course he would have to come back. His eyes are fixed on yours like a deer caught in the headlights. âI came all this way-â he mumbles, choking on the last part, already regretting the words that came out of his mouth.
âWell, too bad.â you spit emotionless as you turn and head for the safety of your house, leaving him stunned on the goddamn porch.
Joel returned the next evening, but you weren't there. He made the four hour journey and came back empty-handed. And you weren't there the next evening, or the evening after that. But he kept on driving the miles, hot wheels under the Texas sun. He didnât check in anywhere near your small town. He went back home and then back to you again.
The last time he found nothing but a closed door, he finally got the message, so the next time he left the house, before he turned on the ignition, he texted you, as a sign of respect for your boundaries.
Is it all right if I come and see you?
Backspacebackspacebackspace
Is it OK if I come and talk?
And the answer was
Not today.
So, every day he texted you. He didnât mean to be intrusive, he just wanted to remind you that you were never far from his thoughts, that he was always ready and eager to finish what he started.
You denied him for quite some time. You couldnât bring yourself to face him again. The confessions he made have knocked you off your axis. Just when you finally felt like everything was falling into place, he dropped this bombshell, making you rethink everything you thought you knew and had sorted out in your mind. You just couldnât wrap your head around what youâd heard coming out of his mouth. How could he think like that? Why couldnât he just talk to you? You used to talk about everything; what the fuck happened? How did you not see that coming?
You were sure that he would give up, that he would stop bothering to contact you at all. Was it the monster of self-deprecation? Was it a deep disappointment in human beings and their general lack of persistence in trying to nurture and repair a relationship, or at least trying to give it a proper closure? You didnât give it much thought afraid of the answer you might get. But you kept saying Not today, until one day, for some reason-
Can we talk?
Yes.
Joelâs heart is beating through his chest so rapidly, he has to cough to regain some of his composure. He almost drops his phone, trying to confirm the most convenient time for you before you change your mind.
That was the first Yes after the day you saw him again. You werenât sure what you wanted to talk about; if you could pick up exactly where you left off. You werenât even sure you could look him in the eye again, but you had to see this through.
When you hear the sound of his engine and tires on the dirt road, you take a deep breath and walk out of the house to wait for him on the porch.
âCome on in, Iâm cooking dinner.â you announce as you open the screen door for him to enter the house.
âAre you sure?â, Joel is taken aback, he thought the inside of your house was strictly off-limits to him. You were also cooking dinner as if he was an old friend visiting you. He couldnât help but wonder if he should lower his defenses or not but with the way you looked tonight you didnât give him much of a choice.
Youâre wearing a pair of warm cream jeans, paired with a white front tie shirt, the first few buttons left open, giving him a glimpse of your tanned sternum. It almost looks like a manâs shirt, just messily tied up over your soft skin, revealing bits of your stomach. Could it be another manâs shirt?
You are barefoot. The nails of your toes are painted in a fresh glossy black color. Your hair is casually tied up in a messy bun, loose strands falling around your beaming face. Joel has to restrain himself from pushing you against the wall and fucking you on the spot, by clenching and unclenching his fists. His mouth is salivating at the sight of you, excitement building in his groin. It's been so long since he's felt this way, a different kind of hunger is growing in him at a rapid pace, as if something buried deep inside his masculinity has just awakened from hibernation.
âYeah, Iâm sure,â you quirk back at him, as if itâs the most natural thing in the world, what youâre both doing. âIâm starving. Coming?â you leave him at the entrance and go back into the house.
âYou have a beautiful home.â, Joel admits as he takes in his surroundings, thinking that this is going better than he expected. He also can't help but prepare himself for the fact that this might not end the same way.
âThank you.â you laugh nervously.
âWhat?â, he catches the note of disbelief in your voice. âI'm serious, the light is just right, itâs open and warm; it actually reminds me of you.â he says matter-of-factly.
âNo, no, I know you mean it, itâs just- I guess itâs high praise, coming from you.â you admit. You always admired what he did for a living and how good he was at it and him seeing your place for the first time gave you another reason to feel kind of nervous.
âOh, come on, none of that now.â he dismisses the compliment, his voice wavering slightly at the praise.
âWell itâs true, you are excellent at what you do, I mean, the house you built is a work of art and thatâs a fact.â
âWhich one?â, although he knows exactly which one, he presses on.
âThe one we used to live in, together.â You canât call it your house. You cannot. The mere thought of it makes your tongue feel like itâs on fire.
âOh.â, Joel smiles as he presses his lips together in a thin line, âYou mean our house. It was built out of love, that's why. It's the one I'm most proud of.â
âHm.â, is all you give him. DĂ©jĂ vu brings back memories out of the closet -pun intended- for both of you.
âOk, now you really have to tell me. What is it?â, Joel crosses his forearms over his chest. He has to know.
âWhat do you mean?â, you try to buy some more time, cause youâre not so sure you want to go in there.
âYou had the exact same reaction when I mentioned that, four years ago.â
âAh, that.â
âYeah, that.â
âItâs just- it always felt like it reflected your personality rather than mine. Or at least ours.â
Joel looks at you perplexed.
âIâm not complaining, I mean, how many people can claim that their husband built them a house the size of a small hotel as a wedding present?â you chuckle while you continue as nonchalantly as you can muster, âI would have lived in a cave with you, Joel, you didnât have to go to these lengths to house two people. If you want my honest opinion, this was an ego project. I let it slide because it made you happy. And I liked you happy.â Joel looks stunned, his eyes darting back and forth between yours.
âBaby, I- I wanted to make you happy, to give you the best I could-â
âJoel, Iâm not judging you. I am not. But you didnât show me a single blueprint while you were designing the damn thing. You didnât ask me what I wanted or how I imagined it. Sure, you equipped it with all the best stuff money could buy, but you never asked me what I thought about it. Not really.â, you see the hurt in his eyes and it unsettles you, but now the rabbit is out of the hat. âAgain, Iâm not judging you and Iâm not being ungrateful, all Iâm saying is that for some reason you needed your shinny new wife to live in a shinny new castle. It was a prestige thing. Just think about it.â
âJesus..â Joel mutters, pinching the sides of his forehead with one hand, feeling defeated.
âHey,â you give him a wry look, âI tried to avoid answering that question for four years. You were the one who insisted.â you defend yourself, clearly amused by his reaction.
âWhat else do I need to know?â, Joel wonders in a desperate manner.
âWell.. for how long can you keep coming back?â you joke absentmindedly.
âFor the rest of my life..â Joel answers a little too quickly, not a hint of playfulness in his voice.
Your heart tightens at his eagerness, forcing you to admit a consideration that you have had more than a few times before. âYou know,â you look over at him, lost in thought, almost like reminiscing, âsometimes I wish I had met you before your company took off.â You snap out of your daydream and consciously look at him and he looks pained as if some kind of realization has hit him. You change the subject for the sake of both of you. âAnyway, speaking of which, how is work? I heard you closed that deal, after all.â you grin mischievously.
âYeah, I did.â, his voice takes on a strange timbre, almost like regret. But youâre not so sure about anything these days, so you let it pass. He puts the envelope with the contract on the counter in the kitchen and sits down in the chair next to the table already set for dinner.
âGood, thatâs good. Let me guess, youâre all over it? First in, last out? Is it almost done?â you word vomit to cover your nervousness.
âUh,â Joel rubs the back of his neck, âI wouldnât know.â is all he gives you, clearly trying to avoid getting involved in the discussion.
âUm, you donât know?â, you laugh lightly in confusion. âHow is that possible?â, you ask stirring the vegetables in the pan.
âIâm not involved in the project and I have no idea about the status of the construction;â Joel answers your question and continues, revealing, âI quit. Sold my shares and got out.â
âYeah,â you draw the vowels, still not looking in his direction, âright. Big, mighty Joel Miller left his enterprise-â you laugh mockingly, but you are met with silence. âYouâre joking, right?â You turn to look at him, not believing what you have just heard. You feel your blood freeze in your veins.
Joel shakes his head in denial, âIâve actually left the city and the only reason I havenât sold every asset in my name is in case you want to claim any of them. Theyâre all yours if you want âem.â Your mouth is slightly agape, as you try to process what has just been delivered to you.
You open your mouth to protest but he beats you to it, by raising his hand to stop you. âI know you donât want anything from me, but that doesnât change the fact that I donât want them either. Not without you. Just take them. Burn them for all I care, liquidate them and use the money as you see fit.â, Joel insists, trying to find ways to convince you.
âYou can do that yourself, Joel.â is all you say; you donât give a damn about his money. Joel nods and leaves it at that, he knows better than to talk about money right now.
Youâre curious where he lives now, but youâre not sure itâs appropriate to ask, so you donât. You prepare dinner and make small talk about simple things like your lives over the past four years. Joel asks you about the ranch, the horses, the chores; you ask him about Tommy and Maria, their newborn son, whom you haven't had a chance to meet yet. None of you dare to break the bubble of normality in which you have effortlessly found yourselves.
It feels like coming home after a long day, the way you both fall into a comfortable silence. Joel speaks your name softly, drawing your attention and your gaze back to him. âWhat are we doing here?â
âWeâre eating?â Just a little longer, let me have it just a little longer.
âYeah,â he chuckles, âno, I mean, what are we doing?â he gestures with his fingers between him and you.
You look at him and then at your plate, playing around with your food, lost in thought. How do you acknowledge that? How do you confess that youâre trying to stretch time? How do you admit that youâre scared out of your mind of how it's all going to end? How do you even come to terms with the fact that youâre not sure you want any of this to end? How do you accept how natural it feels to have him back in your life? How do you admit that after four years the pain has never stopped, but the force, the roughness of it has changed into something softer, yet persistent; never quite going away, lingering.
How do you admit that all the good memories are emerging, because thatâs what the mind does, thatâs how it protects you, thatâs how it helps you survive another day, thatâs how it tricks you into falling back into a comfortable routine with him. Even if what binds you together now is his betrayal. How do you admit that youâre afraid of what will become of you once you've finished confessing your truths?
Will he cease to exist for you? Will you cease to exist for him? Will he ever bother to contact you again? Do you really want him to? Will you matter to him or will he move on, start again and shake off the last vestiges of your life together?
Or maybe- maybe he has moved on with his life and that's why he's doing all this, putting all this effort into it. Maybe he is preparing a new, clear path for himself and whoever is in his life right now. Is it her? Is it still, her?
Youâre spiraling, lost in your thoughts, biting your lower lip anxiously, like a snake eating its own tail. âBaby?â his baritone voice snaps you out of it, he must have called you several times before you heard him, suddenly aware of hot, fat tears streaming down your face, his thumbs gently brushing them from your cheeks.
You let out a shuddering breath; itâs the first time heâs touched you, in so, so long. And here he is again. The familiar, old friend. Heâs pounding on your door now, relentless as he is, screaming for you to let him in, lead the way, take charge, take care of you. You can almost feel his maniacal banging, vibrating through your chest, let me in, let me in, let me in.
Let me in, better angry than scared.
Better angry than scared.
Your shoulders slump, your head feels unbearably heavy. The world has stopped moving. The world is moving too fast. You savor his features as he leans further in, his intoxicating scent filling your nostrils, his eyes pleading, the brown of his irises inviting you to let him in. Joelâs face is that of a man still in love as he continues to caress your skin and you let him.
You let him, because you are a weak person.
You let him because you have been deprived of his touch, of any touch really, for far too long.
You let him because you want to have something for yourself, selfishly.
You let him, because for once you just want to take. Take, take, take.
You let him because you just want to be held and touched and loved.
And even though your mind knows that you shouldnât want all that from him, your heart allows you that little moment.
âJoel, Iâm tired.â you begin, your voice breaking as fresh tears run down your face and onto his thumbs. âTired to my bones. All I want is to be honest with each other. Do you think we can do that? Can we talk like two adults with nothing left to lose? Can we just be truthful to each other? I know thereâs too much history between us, too much hurt and resentment but we both have to try and put it all behind us. I canât go on like this.â
Thereâs a stillness in him, realization and clarity dawning on him. He thinks he understands now and it shocks him somehow, as a fact, that there are still things to uncover, to revel in, to acknowledge. Every time he thinks heâs reached the end of this journey, a new sun rises over the horizon.
You donât need the specifics of his action, at least not right now, or not anymore. What you need is closure. True, honest closure. And that can only come from him baring himself to you. âYeah, yeah, we can do that. We can do anything you want, baby.â, he squeezes his eyes shut, knowing where to begin, but resisting the thought. He leans back in his seat, dropping his hands from your face as he lets out the breath he seems to be holding in and begins.
âRemember that night before your business trip when you came to my office?â
âUh, yeah? I guess.â, what a strange thing to mention, you think confused. âWhat about it?â
âYou came to me for sex.â, Joel says bluntly, no need to beat around the bush. This is it. This is how he loses you. Once again.
You stare at him and then, for some reason, look down in embarrassment. Youâve fucked him in almost every way you can think of and now the very admission of that fact makes you feel like an exposed nerve. It dawns on you, how far away this era has slipped away. You feel vulnerable as if youâre talking to a total stranger about your most intimate moments. At the same time, you still know exactly how to touch him, how to please him and a light warmth begins to shimmer inside you.
âWell, thatâs one way of putting it, but- yeah..â, you admit, still nervously picking at your food with your fork.
Joel sees your apprehension but he presses on. This is what you asked for. âAnd I refused you.â The look on your face betrays your confusion. Where is he going with this? Only now, he sees more. He can finally see more. The hurt. The disappointment. âWhat happened next?â is his next question and does he really think that you can remember all these years later? Does he honestly believe that you can recall yourself leaving his office defeated and crying yourself to sleep? âI donât remember.â you lie, shrugging your shoulders as convincingly as you can muster.
âYou said you loved me and then you left.â, Joel reminds you.
âYou- you remember all that?â, your eyes are wide and the look on your face vulnerable, Joel wants to pause it all and hold you in his arms.
âI canât seem to forget anything about you,â he reveals, âbelieve me, Iâve tried.â
âWhatâs your point?â
âWhy did you do that?â
âUh.. why did I do what?â, you narrow your eyes in confusion.
His eyes are piercing yours, provoking you to figure it out on your own.
âLoved you?â He shakes his head almost imperceptibly.
Your eyes widen again, in surprise this time, as you finally see what he means.
âWalked away?â Youâre fucking shocked to the core, your voice choked, youâre not sure you spoke out loud.
âWhy didnât you insist?â
Your mouth is wide open, youâre speechless, you flatter your eyelids in search of the right words. This is your second encounter and once again he says what you least expect him to say.
âYou refusedâ you remind him now, âand I respected that.â, your hand moves to rest on your chest, palm open, to calm your racing heart.
âI didnât want you to.â
âYou know how that sounds, donât you?â, you mock with a nervous laugh.
âOh, please,â Joel is quick to respond, his brows knitted in a dismissive frown, âlike you could ever force yourself on me.â
You genuinely are at a loss for words, your gaze unable to stay in one place, your mind running a million miles an hour.
Apparently you both are, because Joel is no better at explaining how he feels. âI wanted you to-â, he stops, his eyes still searching yours for the right words, pleading with you to feel him.
Oh my god. Oh. My. God.
It dawns on you. All at once. You see it all playing out. You know exactly how this conversation is going to go. â-claim you? You wanted me to claim you?â, your voice rises, as does your tone. You feel the presence of your abandoned friend again. You donât want him here. But he creeps in through your veins, nonetheless. He is not giving up. If the pounding doesnât work then heâll poison you, slowly and persistently.
âFrom who? You were supposed to be mine!â, you exclaim exasperated, immediately correcting yourself â-not that I owned you, you know what-â
âThat! Thatâs what Iâm talking about!â Joel points his finger at you, âThatâs what I needed. To be yours!â
âBut you were! Are we really haggling over semantics? Of course you were mine! I just never wanted you to feel suffocated by me. You were not my possession Joel, you were my partner!â
âI swear to you, I would die a happy man, baby.â
âI- I tried so hard to control myself-â you mutter to yourself, rolling your eyes back to your head as you shake it in denial, â-all that hunger inside of me, eating me up-â
âWhat?â is Joelâs turn to look like a lost puppy. What the fuck is going on here?
âYou,â you point a finger at him, âyou were my first and last thought every passing day, it wasnât even healthy anymore, Joel. But- I saw that look in your eyes sometimes, a hunger, one I thought mirrored mine and then it was gone in the blink of an eye and I thought that something was holding you back; I- I was holding you back. I thought- maybe I was undeserving..â you divert your eyes from him, embarrassed at your feeling of inadequacy, âSo, I accepted what you gave me if it meant I could have any part of you.â
âOh, baby..â Joelâs hiding his face in his palms and his heart breaks as he realizes where you both stand. How did the two of you get to this point? How could his judgment be so clouded, how could he be so blind to what was happening under his own roof? How could he be so arrogant as to seek validation, one he didn't even need, from someone else? Someone whose validation he didn't even care about. It didn't matter to him. She didnât matter to him. How could he not sense the insecurity tantalizing your very core to the point of feeling inadequate? If only you had told him sooner.
âWhy didnât you tell me?â you mirror his thoughts with your voice.
âWhat should I say to you? I couldnât put it into words, even now I'm not sure I can. It was an all-consuming feeling, an absolute necessity, an overwhelming need that was impossible to handle. I wasnât mentally or emotionally prepared to deal with it. I loved you with such force that it became an obsession. I couldnât even entertain the idea that you might not want me back in the same way. I felt helpless, vulnerable. How could I come to terms with this? With the realization that I had fucked someone else just to get a rise out of you or to prove to myself that I didn't need you that much after all?â
Joelâs palms are clenched into fists on his thighs, trying to keep himself from pressing his lips against yours. Feelings and desires that had been buried in his subconscious for too long came back as he tried to make you understand.
âA r- so, you did fuck her on our bed on purpose.â
âYou asked me that before, darlinâ, I promise you I did not.â
âThen how would you provoke me if you didnât mean for me to find out?â you look at him incredulously.
âI-â Joel winces, âit wasnât a conscious thought, I just kept fantasizing about you finding out and burning the house down for me and that single image made me so h-â Joel shuts his mouth abruptly, not the best idea to describe to you how fuckinâ hard he got, fantasizing about you while fucking someone else. You, bursting into the bedroom all raging and furious, turning the whole place upside down reclaiming what was rightfully yours.
Him.
What a sick fuck he was. âI swear to you, no. Iâm not that fucked up. It was a gigantic lack of judgment, I was fuckinâ drunk, my mind was a mess at that point. That whole week was-â heâs biting his tongue hard to stop himself while rubbing his forehead with his fingers, âI was just being an idiot.â
âThe week I was gone?â
âYes.â
âWhat about it?â
âNothing, âsnothing.â and he doesnât elaborate. âJust a bad fuckinâ week.â
The atmosphere suddenly feels suffocating, as if all the words that have spilled out of both your mouths are hovering over your heads like a black cloud. You need some air to clear your mind, so you make your way out of the kitchen without looking back and walk slowly to the porch, sitting on the steps at the bottom of the stairs. You know he will follow. Your bare feet touch the soft soil beneath you and you try to ground yourself through the little patch of earth you call your own. It doesnât quite work. Thereâs a beautiful golden glow, a last gift from the parting sun, warming your soul. Everything is going to be all right.
âStrange fantasies we both had.â you say as Joel seats down next to you, the contract once again a barrier between you. âYou kept fantasizing about me finding out about your affair-â.
âIt wasnât an affair-â Joel corrects you. âFine, fine. You imagined that, while I kept fantasizing me holding you so tightly while we fucked that our flesh became one; thatâs how deep I needed you inside me, thatâs how obsessively I wanted to carry you with me all the time, isnât that totally fucked up?â you laugh dejectedly.
âI guess we are the same kind of fucked up. If only we could admit it to each other..â
âDid you really feel that I didnât love you enough?â you whisper, almost too scared to be heard and to get an answer.
âI think we loved each other too much. I think we were both too afraid of losing each other. I think,â Joel pauses for a moment to gather his thoughts and calm his voice, âin our efforts to keep each other we did the exact opposite. More me than you, for sure. I have handled things badly and badly is an understatement.â
âYou were always so patient with me. Youâd always wait for me to come to you, to take my time. I needed the savage in you, or I thought I did at the time. That desperate thing I felt creeping out of you in stolen glances or bitten lips between your teeth, or when we fucked; no one has ever fucked me like you did. I did see all of you then, you know. And I think you saw all of me. If I made you feel confident or safe enough, you would have talked to me. And if I wasnât so self-absorbed I would have asked.â
You never thought youâd hear these words from Joel, but all this time of self-reflection has changed him in a way that reminds you of the Joel you fell in love with. The one you could see behind all those layers of self-protection, the one youâd always hoped would emerge for you. And then he goes on, and you wish you knew what was coming so you could protect your heart from being torn to shreds.
âMaybe-â he closes his eyes looking pained, âmaybe I was a narcissist. Maybe you gave me all you had and I kept wanting more, maybe I needed every part of you for myself. Maybe I needed you on your knees, on a leash, at my mercy, just to have the illusion of the certainty that you would never leave me. Maybe freedom is for those who can bear it, after all. Hell, maybe I was the one who needed the leash in the end. Maybe you gave me too much credit, my love, when you deemed me worthy of freedom.â
His words are earth-shuttering, obliterating, final. Thereâs nothing left to be said, at least nothing of substance. Final. The fucking word plays over and over in your head. Final. This is final. You could swear that you have felt every possible kind of pain during these four long years but new depths of agony are being discovered right now. The acid in your stomach makes your throat constrict. You feel petrified.
Joel can sense your distress, his words have been of no comfort to you. Your skin looks pale, covered with a thin layer of cold sweat; you look physically ill. Your forearms rest on your knees and he gently cups your elbow to check in on you. Are you OK? You smile weakly at him, the expression not reaching the corners of your eyes.
âYou know I would give anything to take it all back, right?â
Your laughter is more lively now, not with malice or sarcasm, but with a sense of humor.
âYeah, yeah, I think I do.â, you shake your head in twisted amusement, tilting your head up, to let the last rays of the sun warm your face, maybe bring back some of your lost color. It's getting dark now, the day is coming to an end, the curtains of the last sunlight are almost closed. Your eyes are closed too, your head still tilted back as you laugh to yourself, âYou did that backwards, too, you know.â
âWhat?â
âYou have burned everything to the ground, only to realize that you want to get it all back in one piece. I mean itâs- itâs-â you struggle to find the right words but Joel offers one of his own.
âRidiculous..â
âI was gonna say pointless.. But thatâs the thing, Joel. Choosing to be with someone is like faith. You believe because you just know. You don't have to find evidence to prove your choice at every turn, otherwise itâs just exhausting. You choose to trust yourself.â
âTrust me as your partner, you mean, not yourself.â
âJoel, it was never about trusting you..â
âIâm sorry, I donât understand..â
âIâm not sure how to explain it- uh..â, you raise your shoulders and your brows in unison as you shake your head slightly, searching for the words. âTrust is a personal journey. âTrustâ doesn't mean âtrust in youâ, Iâm not trusting you. No one can be sure of anyone. âTrustâ means that I have faith in myself, that even if you hurt me, even if you abandon me, I will not fall apart. And..â you shrug your shoulders, hugging yourself with your hands, âlook at me, Joel..â, you finish, suggesting that youâre still here, still standing.
âI am, baby; I am..â Joel replies, taking in the sight of you as if it were the last time heâll ever have the chance to, utterly compelled by your inner glow.
âIâm not mad at you Joel, not anymore. And I believe you, I really do. But I canât get that scene out of my head. I just canât. I can still hear the sounds, I can even recall the way you smelled when you were standing next to me.â
His hands are shaking.
âIâm not trying to hurt you, really.â
âI know.â, his voice is barely audible.
âI think youâve done enough of that yourself. Maybe itâs time to forgive yourself?â
âDo you?â Do you, really? Do you forgive him after all that has been said? Do all these confessions illuminate the facts from a different perspective? Does it change what he did and what you went through? And if so, does that mean you're letting him go? Are you leaving him behind? Is he leaving you behind? Why is it so hard to let go? Why do you choose the safety of the known, even when it hurts you?
You choose not to answer and instead firmly insist, âYou have to forgive yourself, Joel, itâs okay.â Be the better person. If not for him, then for yourself. Let him go.
âI canât do that.â, Joel is adamant, shaking his head while he rejects your request.
âYes, you can.â you urge him again. âAs I can and do.â Let him go.
Joel never thought he would listen to those words coming out of your mouth. He doesnât deserve them. He hasnât earned them. âYou forgive me?â, he repeats in utter shock and disbelief.
âYes.â Loud and clear as daylight.
âI- You canât- I donât- I donât deserve that.â Joel feels like heâs drowning in your so graciously offered Holy Grail, desperately trying to keep his head above the waters of your absolution.
âI canât be the judge of that, Joel, hell, I canât be the judge of anyone. The way I see it, you chose your actions and I chose mine. You chose to hurt me and I chose to walk away. We both lost something. Have we not suffered enough, Joel?â you ask him honestly.
âI donât want to presume, but- isnât it a great burden to carry on your shoulders when you try to move on? All this anger, all that bitterness?â you search his eyes for an answer but he doesnât give you one.
You continue, hoping to get through to him. âYour feelings are your burden Joel and it doesnât matter if I forgive you. Thatâs why it is you who needs to forgive yourself.â
His eyes still refuse to meet yours, stubbornly glued to the ground. âIâm not doing this for you, Iâm doing this for me. We need to move forward, both of us.â is the last thing you say to him, not knowing if he even listened to half of what you just said.
You both fall into a thoughtful silence, but something you said is bugging him. He canât quite figure it out, so he turns to look at you, to savor you while he still has the chance. He knows that his time is limited.
Youâre just sitting there with him, trying to comfort him, you of all people. You seem lighter now, fidgeting absentmindedly with your fingers as if some of your burden has already been lifted. And as his gaze sweeps over you, he sees it again. He sees the white shirt hugging your body and he knows whatâs troubling him.
I donât want to presume, I donât want to presume, I donât want to presume.
His heart beats rapidly in his chest, panic rising inside him.
âIâve been with you for the last four years.â
âExcuse me?â your hands freeze as you turn to face him, clearly confused.
âYou said you didnât want to presume anything and I need to set the record straight. There was and is no other woman in my life except you.â
âJoel,â you blush shyly, âthis is none of my business, you are free-â
âNo. No. I need you to know this, itâs important to me. I meant everything I said. You have done nothing wrong. My feelings for you have never changed-â
âJoel, please..â you beg him to stop, you canât have this conversation now, itâs too soon. No, youâre wrong. Itâs too late; too soon means thereâs a future ahead of you. A future where you both fit in the same universe.
âI donât want you to think that I came all the way out here just to tie up some loose ends and move on. That is not what this is about.â
âIf you expect me to tell you about my personal life..â your what now?
âNo, I donât. And I donât think I could handle it, anyway. You are a free woman and you deserve the world. Unlike me; I donât deserve anything and Iâll never be free of you.â
Your chin is now trembling and you bite your lower lip to stop the involuntary muscle contraction. You canât decipher if itâs from anger for the way things came to be or from deep, excruciating sadness for how Joel feels. For how he makes you feel.
âFree woman, huh?â, you whisper bitterly, looking down at your feet, willing yourself not to cry.
âYes, free, as you should always have been and Iâm sorry I couldnât see it sooner.â
Joel then picks up the divorce papers from the floor next to him as heâs fishing a pen out of his pocket. He stares at you and then at the blank space where his signature should be, next to yours. He splays his palm over the last page as if to straighten it out, but it almost looks like heâs caressing it. He brings the ball of the pen to the white surface and for a moment his hand lingers over it. He doesnât dare look at you again, his resolve is not that strong. Finally, finally he signs, filling the empty spot and he hands you the contract. Itâs a strange moment, the one before the signature and the one after it.
Everything seems to be the same; it is just a signature.
Everything feels completely different; it is not just a signature.
Your fingertips brush his as you reach out to take it, the touch sending shivers down your spine. Your slightly trembling hands hold the papers gently, not sure you wanna hold on to them or scatter them on the ground. Your thumb swipes softly over his signature.
You feel it, now. You feel the ground beneath your bare feet, the warmth of the earth, the weight of your footing. The falling has stopped. The feather finally rests. You have landed.
Joel moves to stand on his feet, as you keep staring at the drying ink, when you feel something fall from above onto your thumb; but you canât see anything as it is immediately absorbed by the hungry pores of the paper, slightly smudging his signature. You look up to catch him as he dries his eyes with his thumb and forefinger.
âFree as a bird, baby, ready to fly over the world.â, Joel smiles at you with a look of reverence and devotion in his eyes.
You picture the floating feather in your head and smile back at him with a serenity he hasnât seen in a long time.
âI think I just want to walk for a while. One step at a time.â
He nods, his eyes still full of emotion and you watch as he begins to walk slowly towards his truck, when suddenly he turns his body to face you but continues to walk backward in the same direction.
âHey!â he calls to you with a mischievous smile, raising his chin to you.
âYeah?â you answer, your voice wavering slightly as you try to hide your smile.
âCan I take you to dinner sometime?â he asks as he reaches for his driverâs door and opens it, waiting for your answer, which never comes because you think heâs joking. But he continues to stare at you, with no expectations, quietly, earnestly, sincerely, with a soft, shy smile on his lips. Oh.
Oh.
âJoel..â is all you breathe out, closing your eyes for a moment before you look at him again, because his name is all that is left in your very being right now. Joel.
He seems lighter, too.
âMaybe, one day..?â
âYeah.. Maybe, one day..â
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đđđđđ đđđđđ đđđđđđđ.
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STATUS . . . ongoing, arthur morgan x f!reader. 18+ smut mdni !!
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CW . . . voyeurism, female masturbation, male masturbation, arthur's kind of a meanie.
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SUMMARY . . . recently welcomed into dutch van der linde's gang, has a tense first encounter with arthur morgan, who is suspicious of her and questions her trustworthiness. after a sharp exchange, she withdraws to her tent to find solace. meanwhile, arthur, tasked with returning her forgotten journal, approaches her tent but hesitates when he sees the intimate silhouette of her body through the illuminated canvas.
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AUTHOR'S NOTE . . . really don't know what washed over me. this was initially meant as a drabble , but somehow bloomed into what is going to be a continuing story. as the start of the story, it's loaded with "setting the scene" mostly to establish a dynamic between the reader and arthur. however , it does get spicy towards the end ;)
An orphan, a wanderer, and most notably, a thief for hire. Your occupation brought you countless adversaries, shaped by a lifetime of hardship. The Wild West wasnât forgiving, especially for someone like you. It forced you to compromise whatever moral compass youâd developed, exchanging it for a life filled with unsavory characters. Your skills became notorious in Lemoyne, earning you a wanted poster of your ownâthough the paltry $3,000 bounty made you wonder if the authorities truly knew your worth.
One man, however, saw your potential: Dutch Van der Linde. Knowing Dutchâs reputation, you were well aware there was no honor among thieves, but the price he offered for your services was one you couldn't afford to refuse.
"I'm a man who keeps his word," Dutch said, locking eyes with you. You stiffened momentarily, your guard raised.
"And if you donât, Iâll have you dead," you warned, your voice steady.
Dutch chuckled, raising his palms in mock surrender. "I'll take you to my camp, introduce you to my people," he said, patting his chest for emphasis. "I take care of my own. I'll take care of you too, maâam, ya hear?"
You clenched your jaw, swallowing hard before releasing a sigh. Camps, peopleâthese weren't things you were accustomed to. Yet, the promise of a warm fire and a decent meal was hard to ignore. Stepping forward, you motioned with your boot. "Be a gentleman and lead the way."
Dutch quickened his pace, guiding you to his horse. Retrieving your own, you both rode off toward the confines of Clemens Point.
As you arrived at the secluded camp, the thick forest enveloped the intimate commune. Pulling on the reins, your horse came to a halt behind Dutchâs. He dismounted and extended a hand to help you down. You ignored his gesture, earning another chuckle.
"Your independence is admirable," Dutch said, amused. "Maybe you'll set a good example."
"I wonât be staying long," you replied curtly.
Dutch nodded, unfazed. "Come on, now, lemme introduce ya."
You followed behind him, scanning your surroundings, planning your escape if needed. Clemens Point had its rustic charm, much like the rest of Lemoyne, but it wasnât a place you intended to linger. As you approached the heart of the camp, the residents began to take notice. Some watched from a distance, while others stepped closer. You stayed close to Dutch, observing the crowd.
"Bring a lady for the night?" one man jeered. You tried to get a glimpse of the man behind such a crude remark, catching only the sight of a weathered hat adorned with a feather.
"It ainât like that," Dutch countered.
"Well, if sheâs with you, she sure ainât cheap," the man sneered.
You felt anger flare in your chest.
"Arthur!" Dutch barked.
So, that was his nameâArthur.
Stepping out from behind Dutch, you made yourself visible to the Van der Linde gang, especially the man at the center of it all.
He was tall, built like a seasoned gunslinger, with the brim of his hat pulled low, hiding much of his face. But from your shorter vantage point, you could see beneath the brimâstrands of sandy brown hair fell just above his eyes. You squinted, trying to get a clearer look at the man responsible for the comment.
"My, my," Arthur drawled, his voice low. "What do we have here, then?"
You stared Arthur down, unfazed by his comment. âWhat you have here,â you said, voice dripping with sarcasm, âis someone who doesn't take kindly to men who donât watch their tongues.â
Arthur raised an eyebrow, a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. âBold. I like that.â He crossed his arms, eyeing you with a mix of amusement and curiosity. âBut talkâs cheap out here, darlinâ. You gonna back it up?â
You took a step closer, not backing down. âGuess youâll find out soon enough, cowboy.â
Before things could escalate further, Dutch stepped in between the two of you, raising his hands in a gesture of peace. âNow, now, letâs all calm down, shall we?â He chuckled as though this kind of exchange was nothing new. âArthur, meet our new friend here. Sheâs more than capable, I assure you. Sheâs got quite the reputationâthief for hire, and from what Iâve heard, sheâs damn good at it.â
Arthurâs gaze flickered to Dutch, then back to you. His smile faded, replaced by a skeptical scowl. âA thief, huh?â He tilted his head, clearly unconvinced. âAnd youâre just gonna bring her into camp, just like that? You donât think maybe we oughta vet her a little first? Or better yet, see if sheâs worth her salt?â
Dutch sighed, clearly accustomed to Arthurâs protective nature. âArthur, youâve got nothing to worry about. I wouldnât bring someone into our fold if I didnât believe in their abilities. You, of all people, should trust me on that.â
Arthur scoffed, shaking his head. âIt ainât about trust, Dutch. Itâs about common sense. Youâre always bringing in strays, but how do we know sheâs as good as you say? How do we know she ainât just gonna take what she wants and bolt?â
You folded your arms, feeling the heat of Arthurâs scrutiny, but before Dutch could respond, you cut in.
âIf I wanted to bolt, I wouldnât be standing here listening to you question me like some washed-up lawman,â you said flatly. âAnd as for being good at what I do⊠Why donât you give me a chance to prove it?â
Arthurâs eyes narrowed, his expression unreadable for a moment. The tension was thick between the two of you, the unspoken challenge hanging in the air.
Dutch clapped his hands together, cutting through the silence. âSee? Thatâs the spirit! Letâs not get too hung up on doubts and suspicions. Besides, Arthur, you know better than anyoneâwe all had to start somewhere.â
Arthur shook his head, still unconvinced, but his tone softened slightly. âFine. But if she messes up, Dutch, itâs on you.â
Dutch grinned. âIâll take full responsibility. Youâll see, Arthurâsheâs gonna fit right in.â
Arthur gave you one last look, his blue eyes hard, but he stepped back, leaving the matter for now. âWeâll see,â he muttered, turning his back to head deeper into the camp.
As he walked away, Dutch leaned in close, speaking just low enough for you to hear. âDonât worry about Arthur. Heâs always cautious with new faces, but once you prove yourself, heâll have your back. Just give it time.â
You nodded, though your eyes remained fixed on Arthurâs retreating form. âIâll prove myself, alright. To everyone.â
Dutch patted you on the back, his voice light once again. âThatâs the spirit. Now, letâs get you settled in.â
Your shoulders relax slightly when Dutch introduces you to another, kinder member of the campâMary-Beth. With a warm smile, she takes it upon herself to show you around. As she guides you through the camp, she explains the delicate intricacies and rich history the Van der Linde gang has accumulated over time. Her warmth is disarming, and though you find her friendliness endearing, your guard remains firmly in place.
As the day gives way to night, the camp grows lively. The smell of roasting meat fills the air, and the sound of laughter and clinking bottles echoes around the fire. Everyone seems to be enjoying the night, drinks in hand and plates full. You sit beside Dutch, notebook in hand, writing down the events of the dayâyour observations, the faces youâve encountered, and your thoughts on the gangâs dynamics.
Dutch glances over your shoulder, a grin tugging at his lips. âWriting a novel already?â he teases.
You smirk but keep writing. âJust taking notes, is all.â
With a chuckle, Dutch pats your shoulder. âWell, donât let me interrupt your musings. Iâm gonna get myself another drink.â He stands, leaving his spot beside you empty for just a moment.
Before you can settle back into your thoughts, Arthur takes Dutchâs place without so much as a word. You immediately tense, looking up from your journal in annoyance.
âI didnât invite you to sit,â you snap.
Arthur leans back, crossing his arms, clearly unbothered by your protest. âIâm just doinâ my due diligence,â he says with a casual shrug. âLead enforcer and all that. Gotta make sure you ainât some rat lookinâ to get us all killed.â
You narrow your eyes at him, anger bubbling up. âA rat? You donât know a thing about me.â
âI know enough,â Arthur retorts, his gaze hard. âYou waltz in here, Dutch vouches for ya, but me? I donât trust anyone that quick. Seen too many faces come and go. Some good, some⊠not so much.â
You bite your tongue, forcing yourself to stay calm. âI donât have anything to prove to you, Arthur.â
His stare lingers on you, unflinching. âMaybe not. But until I see otherwise, Iâll keep an eye on you.â
The tension between you is palpable, and despite the fireâs warmth, you feel a chill settle in your bones. This is why you hated dealing with people. No matter what you did, someone was always suspicious, always trying to dig into things that werenât their business. You snap your journal shut, your patience worn thin.
âIâm done here,â you mutter, standing abruptly. âI didnât come here for this.â
You walk away from the campfire, the weight of Arthurâs gaze following you as you disappear into the shadows. As you distance yourself from the group, you hear a voice call out.
âArthur, you really can be an asshole sometimes, you know that?â
Itâs Hosea, who had been watching the exchange from a distance. His tone is firm, but thereâs an edge of disappointment in it. Arthur grumbles in response, shifting uncomfortably.
âJust doinâ my job, Hosea,â Arthur mutters defensively, but thereâs a flicker of something else in his eyesâregret, maybe.
Hosea shakes his head. âYeah, well, you could stand to be a little more welcoming.â
As Hosea walks away, Arthur notices something on the ground beside himâyour journal. You must have left it behind in your rush to escape the conversation. He picks it up, flipping it over in his hands, his expression softening for a brief moment. He exhales a long breath while he debates with himself, glancing in the direction you disappeared, wondering if he should bring it to you.
Storming away from the campfire, you mutter under your breath. "Should've known better than to get mixed up in this." The tension Arthur brought upon you still burns in your chest. Now, away from the glimmer of the camp you question why you even agreed to Dutch's offer.
Quickly the weight of reality sets in. The promise of money looms heavy, more than you've ever made in one place. Enough to change your life, if things go smoothly. And then there's the camp âmore than just a place to lay your head. It has food, shelter, warmth, and plenty of drink, luxuries you havenât had in a long while. The thought alone makes your stomach growl, reminding you of the times youâve gone hungry for days on end. A little discomfort with people like Arthur might just be the price you have to pay to survive this.
With a resigned sigh, you make your way toward your tent, situated near the lake, away from the central campfire. The sounds of laughter and idle chatter slowly fade, replaced by the gentle lapping of the water and the rustling of the trees in the night breeze. The solitude brings you a moment of peace.
Inside the privacy of your tent, you begin to undress. Shedding your coat, shirt, and pants, you remain in your undergarments, your body finally relaxing after a long day. You sit down on the edge of your bedroll, running a hand through your hair, letting yourself unwind. The faint sounds of the camp are distant now, just a quiet hum in the background. For the first time all day, you feel like you can breathe.
You sink deeper into the quiet, trying to escape the frustration that still simmers after your run-in with Arthur. His suspicion and brash attitude had only amplified the uncertainty you already felt about your place here. But in this moment, alone in the privacy of your tent, you allow yourself a rare moment of vulnerability.
The dayâs exhaustion has left your body aching, and as you lie back on the bedroll in nothing but your undergarments, your mind drifts, seeking comfort in the solitude. The warmth of the lamp glows around you, its light illuminating the canvas tent, casting your shadow against the fabric walls.
Meanwhile, outside Arthur approaches the tent with your journal firmly in his grasp. His steps are quiet, almost hesitant has he nears. From the outside, the soft light from your oil lamp betrays the outline of your figure through the thin material of the tent. He pauses, eyes narrowing as he makes out your shape, it stops him in his tracks.
"What in the hell is she up to?"
As the glow from the lantern outlines your curves, you move with an intensity that betrays the calm facade you usually project. Your guard is down, and in this moment of vulnerability, your form is unmistakable. Your hands roam freely over your body, pressing, squeezing, tugging at the fabric of your undergarments. Even in solitude, you tease yourself, building anticipation for the release that awaits.
Your fingers reach up to hold your breasts, pinching the hardened buds as a loud moan escapes your lips and echoes through the tent. Arthur watches silently from outside, his breath catching as he realizes what's happening. His initial intention of returning the journal completely fades away as he becomes transfixed by the intimacy of the scene unfolding before him. He feels like an intruder but can't bring himself to look away.
Lost in pleasure, you lie back and let your hand trail down to your center, seeking refuge in the coarse hair. Gripping tightly, you insert a single digit into your core and feel a rush of wetness surround it as you sink deeper and deeper. Your breathing quickens and unbeknownst to you, the quiet rhythm of your movements is not confined to the tent. You whimper for more, "ple-please, give it to me. i want more," caving release from the stress that has consumed you since arriving here.
Watching from afar, Arthur feels his primal instincts kick in but fights them off with all his might. His sense of honor wavers as he struggles against his own desires. The tightness of his jeans and gun belt only add to his physical discomfort as he closes his eyes tightly, trying to resist temptation.
Meanwhile, inside the tent, you continue to lose yourself in ecstasy, completely oblivious to anything else in the world. Your moans grow louder and more desperate as your fingers quicken their pace inside of you. The sounds of squelching flesh mixed with your cries fill the night air as you beg for more.
Arthur finally gives in to his conscience and with one last look at the tent, he pulls away and retreats into the darkness. "The hell you doing, you pervert?" he curses himself as he walks away, leaving you to your privacy and pleasure. The intense moment has passed, but the memory lingers in Arthur's mind, igniting a curiosity about what else lies behind that sharp tongue of yours.
A man still had his urges.
Your journal finds its temporary home in Arthur's pocket. The heat of the moment lingers in his chest, an ache he canât quite shake. His body tenses, and the desire to escape the situation grows stronger with every step. He moves quickly through the camp, intent on retreating to his own quarters and pushing away the thoughts still buzzing in his mind.
But just as he rounds a corner, he spots Dutch leaning against a post, nursing a drink and chatting with one of the gang members. Dutchâs keen eyes lock onto Arthur almost immediately, and before Arthur can disappear, Dutch calls out.
âArthur!â Dutchâs voice cuts through the campfire chatter. âWhereâd our new friend wander off to?â
Arthur stiffens, his eyes darting briefly before he forces himself to face Dutch. âShe, uh⊠sheâs at her tent,â Arthur mutters, his tone gruff as he shifts his weight awkwardly. Hands firmly grasp his gun belt and a satchel that once sat on the side of his hip is awkwardly placed at the center of his core, disguising what throbbed underneath.
Dutch raises an eyebrow, clearly sensing something off. âYou sure about that? You look like youâve seen a ghost. Or⊠something else.â Thereâs a smirk tugging at the corner of Dutchâs mouth, amused by Arthurâs discomfort.
Arthur avoids eye contact, the urge heâs trying to suppress making it difficult to keep his composure. âAinât nothinâ. Just tired, Dutch. Been a long day.â
Dutch takes a swig of his drink, watching Arthur closely, clearly enjoying the rare sight of Arthur flustered. âRight, right. Well, if you see her, let her know sheâs always welcome to sit by the fire.â
Arthur grunts, eager to end the conversation. âYeah, Iâll do that.â
Dutch takes another sip and, with a knowing chuckle, waves him off. âGet some rest, Arthur. You look like you need it.â
Without another word, Arthur quickly shoos Dutch away with a curt nod and makes a beeline for his tent. The moment Dutch turns his attention back to the campfire, Arthur lets out a breath he didnât realize he was holding, his footsteps quickening.
Finally reaching the safety of his own tent, a shaky hand, Arthur pushes through the canvas flap. He collapse onto his cot with heavy breaths. Images rush through his mind like a raging river - your body outlined in flickering light, the softness of your movements, and the burning desire that he can't seem to shake.
He lies on his back, staring up at the ceiling with shallow breaths as he replays the memory over and over again. His fists clench at his sides, frustration and longing coursing through him. It's been too long since anything has affected him this deeply.
As someone no stranger to temptation, Arthur knows the pull of the flesh all too well. But this moment with you felt different - more intimate, more real. The vulnerability he saw in you makes it impossible for him to simply brush off the encounter.
Running a hand through his hair in frustration, he tries to push the thoughts away, but they cling to him like thorns. The tension in his body only grows, refusing to let go even in the quiet of the night.
"Damn it," he mutters under his breath, rolling onto his side in an attempt to distract himself. But it's no use - your silhouette, bathed in lamplight, is burned into his mind.
Sitting up abruptly, Arthur grips the ends of his cot tightly as he stares at the ground beneath him. He lets out a frustrated sigh and runs a hand over his face, trying to rub away the persistent thoughts. But they only intensify in the darkness of his tent, driving him to take action.
Without hesitation, he untucks his flannel and removes his gunbelt before freeing himself from his trousers. His arousal is already evident as his length throbs against his palm. Unlike you, who sought relaxation in these moments alone, Arthur seeks indulgence.
Spitting into his palm for lubrication, he grips his cock tightly and sinks his weight onto the cot, groaning at the sensation. His ankles are freed from his trousers as he spreads his legs wider, giving himself more room to move. With each stroke of his hand, he can feel the tension slowly dissipating, replaced by a raw need for pleasure.
His hand moves with urgency and desperation, his thumb frequently visits the tip of his cock gathering the liquid before slipping it down his length. The sounds of your pleasure entertain his memory, your gentle pleas for pleasure make him whimper, "take it, woman. t-take it all." He feels like a fool but he can't suppress the praises he's eager to provide, "like a g-good girl."
His moans were deep and gravelly, resonating with the same desperate desire that you had been yearning for. As he released his essence into his palm, the sticky substance leaked between his fingers. He caught his breath with his eyes tightly shut, murmuring a curse under his breath, "damn woman." Somehow, this was all your fault.
Arthur reached for a handkerchief to clean himself off, wiping away the evidence of his passion. He adjusted himself before settling onto his cot with a sense of contentment, ready to spend the evening in peaceful slumber. The quiet rustle of the sheets echoed through the room as he settled in, still feeling the lingering effects of your intense encounter.
NEXT CHAPTER.
#arthur morgan x reader#arthur morgan x you#arthur morgan x female reader#arthur morgan smut#red dead fanfic#rdr2 x reader#rdr2 fanfic#filed: honor among thieves.#saddleups
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Sergei Kravinoff x Fem!Reader
(Kraven the Hunter, Request)
My Materialist
warnings: nudity, self-gratification, foreplay, masturbation, intimidation, oral intercourse, dirty tongue.
Summury: When you take a shower after a tiring day, Sergei comes back home to surprise you.
1634 Word
At Nova's (@novaawayne) request, I hope you like it, sweetie.
Ask for permission before quoting or translating!
Sergei had been away for a long time. He had business as usual. You never questioned much. Somewhere you knew the answers, but you also knew it was better not to ask. You thought a hot shower would loosen you up and help you fall asleep faster as the longing seeped into every fiber of your being.
You turned off the lights in your penthouse apartment, small but with enough space for you. You light one or two candles to create a calmer atmosphere and escape the tiredness of the day. The smell of the candles instantly permeated the small apartment and the dim light lulled you into a little bit of a stupor.
You get rid of your clothes and turn the water to the ideal temperature. Finally, before entering the shower, you found one of your favorite playlists on your phone and turned it on. You let the sound of the music diffuse into the environment just like the scent of the candles. When the water was warm enough, you got in and let the tiredness of the day wash away. Once you were satisfied that you were sufficiently soaked, you lathered yourself up. You let the vanilla and cinnamon flavored shower gel envelop your entire body. You tried to console yourself with the thought that Sergei had touched you wherever the lather reached.
You continued to cover yourself in bubbles until the thoughts became more and more desperate, until the longing filled your whole soul and reached your core. Desperate, you slid your hand down your body and began to rub yourself with your fingers. You accelerated your movements as the pressure became insufficient. Finally you gave up when a moan of frustration escaped your lips. You used to be able to satisfy yourself. Then you met him and all the things he could do to your body. After Sergei, nothing could ever replace him.
You took a deep breath and decided to sleep tonight in disappointment. You rinsed your whole body one last time with warm water and turned off the water. You decided that the best thing to do was to wrap yourself in a bathrobe and spend a girly girl night in bed watching 'Sex and the City'
As soon as you opened the shower door and stepped out, you felt a pair of strong arms wrap around your waist. As your scream escaped your lips at the powerful sensation, your body betrayed you by the familiar warmth and instantly began to relax. You stopped screaming at the sound of laughter behind you and the warmth of breath on the back of your neck. A pair of full lips pressed a faint kiss to his neck.
âI'm sorry to scare you, my love, but I miss you so much.â
As soon as you heard Sergei's voice, you left his arms and immediately turned around to meet his eyes. Your breathing became ragged as you felt his blue eyes on you again. Your eyes welled up and you didn't want him to see you like this, so you wrapped your hands around his neck and buried your face in his strong body.
"Hey ŃĐ”ĐČĐłĐžĐ»ĐžĐŒ, won't you let me see your beautiful eyes?â
You let out a deep sigh, still holding on to Sergei's strong grip. You buried your face in his chest, feeling it rise and fall with each breath. The rhythmic sound of his heartbeat brought you back to peace. âCĐ”ĐČĐłĐžĐ»ĐžĐŒ, I heard the moans coming out of your beautiful little mouth.â She sighed with disappointment. âWere you touching yourself while I was goneâŠâ Shaking her head no, you pulled back to meet your eyes.
âSergeiâŠâ, your heart, filled with longing and need, couldn't form a coherent sentence. More like a whimper escaped your lips. âY/N, ŃĐ”ĐČĐłĐžĐ»ĐžĐŒ,â he took a deep breath and re-established eye contact. âWe talked about this.â He moistened his lips with his tongue, as if he couldn't decide exactly what to say or do. âWe agreed that you would wait for me, didn't we?â His voice was not angry or resentful. Every word came out of his lips with great care. You nodded quickly in agreement. âI miss you, I knowâŠâ he interrupted with urgency. You were in no position to continue explaining yourself when his tongue slid into your mouth.
Finally he pulled back to let you breathe. After his eyes lingered on your lips for a while longer, he made eye contact again. âI know, I know, my dear.â He leaned in again for a small kiss. Then he continued. âBut I thought we agreed on this, no self-pleasuring without me.â He waited a moment to make sure you could understand his words. âAnd there must be some punishment for breaking the forbidden, right?â
You gasped with excitement and anticipation. Your heartbeat quickened. âAnyway, I couldn't do it without you, these,â waving his fingers in the air, âwere a disappointment.â He couldn't hold back his laughter at your words. âI missed you, Sergei,â you said, leaning in closer after accompanying his laughter.
He knew it, but your confession reawakened more primal feelings in him. His breathing changed for an instant. You could feel the intensity in their flow towards you, as evidenced by the amber color of their eyes. You could bring out the animal in Sergei. And you were always proud of it. The so-called âhunterâ turned into a lion when he was with you. Your lion.
"Y/N" Sergei made a sound mixed with a growl. He could feel his hands trembling. He could feel the tiny ants moving in his stomach.
Finally, he took a few steps back and leaned himself against the sink. With his hand he pulled you towards him. Step by step you let the towel you were wrapped in slip from your body as you approached him.
Sergei held his breath, watching your skin being exposed second by second. He was mesmerized by your perky breasts, which were not too small.
A mischievous smile appeared on your face as your towel fell completely to the floor. âShould I be afraid, Mr. Kravinoff?â you asked coyly when Sergei gave a grunt mixed with a growl.
Sergei leaned down and kissed your lips. âMaybe you should be a little scared.â
When Sergei was about to pull back, you put your arms around his neck and pulled him back to you. Both of you were making unexpected moves at an unexpected moment.
Your hands ran through your lover's hair while one of his hands had already found his chest.
Sergei pulled back and this time began to run his lips over the fully exposed breasts. At first he ran his lips over the beginning of the breasts, where they began to rise slightly. Then, when this was too little, he supported your breasts from below with his hands and raised the tips higher.
He wasted no time in cupping the tips of her breasts with his lips as his eyes glowed with the pink he saw on your nipples.
His eyes glowed with the pinkness he saw at the tips of her breasts and he wasted no time in grasping the nipples with his lips. You were trying to stop your moans with Sergei's every movement. Your biggest moan came when Sergei crushed your nipples with his teeth. âShh, beautiful, you have to be quiet, we don't want to wake the neighbors.â You had no idea how to be calm and quiet. Sergei was all over you.
Sergei's fingers moved to your waist. His lips trailed warm kisses down to your crotch.
He stepped back for a few seconds as if he wanted to memorize every detail of her body. And he studied every inch of her eyes. It wasn't the first time you were naked in front of him. But you blushed every time he looked at you like that. Finally, he decided that he had examined you enough and said âokay, it's time for us to be equalâ and took off first his t-shirt and then his boxers and pants.
When he leaned in to kiss you, you pulled back. When he looked at you confused, you bent down. As he looked at you with disbelieving eyes, you moistened your lips with your tongue and reached for your favorite dessert. Sergi's eyes had both pride and disbelief in them, but it didn't last a minute. He was already saying something incoherent as you started to lick your man.
"Oh, there's a good fuckin' girl," he groaned, collecting whatever hair he could in a makeshift ponytail; looking down his nose to watch you. His cock was overwhelming, but you were determined to earn the pleasure he would surely bring; mouthing around his cockhead, using one hand to pump what didn't fit, the other alternating between holding his hairy thigh for balance and cradling his balls.
A few times, you held his eyes with yours as you removed his cock with a pop; licking his shaft up and down like it was a popsicle on the Fourth of July. His jaw would clench each time, sputtering his breath. His veins were pulsing, prominent under the skin; making your cunt contract as his throat bobbed as he swallowed harshly, groaning.
âCome here before I lose my mind,â he said, pulling you to your feet.
He chuckled and reached down to help you up, instantly searing you in a wet, messy kiss as he backed you into the sink counter; tasting himself on your tongue. It was erotic, something you were vastly not used to - no man ever being okay with you kissing them after having their dicks in your mouth.
Except your wild lion.
And you knew that your lion was hungry and this was just a preparation for dinner.
My Materialist
TAG LIST:
#sergei kravinoff#kraven the hunter#kraven x reader#sergei x reader#sergei kravinoff fanfiction#aaron taylor johnson#aarontaylorjohnson#aaron taylor johnson x reader#atj#atj x reader#ao3 fanfic#sergei kravinoff x reader#atj fic
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ă ⊠the night of the broken rules ⊠ă
theodore nott x reader x Mattheo riddle ( threesome)
Summary: why do you need to choose when you can have them both
Warnings: threesome , smut , p in v sex, fingering, unprotected sex.
Words: 3k
The scene pulsated with raw energy, a mix of naked bodies swaying to the music, simmering desire, and the lingering tension from their earlier heated exchange. I stood by the bar, pretending to sip my drink while stealing glances at the two magnetic figures across the roomâMattheo Riddle and Theodore Nott.
They were engrossed in conversation, sharing laughs and inside jokes that only seemed to heighten their allure in the dance floor . Both men exuded a dangerous charm, their magnetic presence drawing gazes from every direction. How was a girl supposed to choose when faced with such tempting options?
Mattheo's confidence and devilish smirk were enough to make any heart skip a beat. And then there was Theodore, with his brooding intensity and sharp wit that could ignite a fire in even the coldest of souls. It was a battle of temptation, and I found myself caught in the middle,
With a heavy sigh, I felt the heat of desire swirling within me, urging me to give in to the tantalizing pull. Suppressing the rising sensations, I navigated through the crowd towards the dance floor. Every step was deliberate, every movement calculated to tease and entice.
I could feel the eyes on me as I moved, the rhythm of the music guiding my body. I traced my hands along the curves of my figure, accentuating my curves, feeling the fabric of my outfit cling to me in all the right places. Swaying my hips seductively, I made sure to give Mattheo Riddle and Theodore Nott a captivating show, a silent invitation laced with desire.
As the pulsating lights of red, blue, and green bathed the dance floor, I found myself sandwiched between Mattheo Riddle and Theodore Nott. Our bodies moved in sync to the seductive beat, drawing closer with each enticing sway.
Mattheo's hands skillfully found their way to my nipples, his touch sending a jolt of pleasure through me. His fingers teased and caressed, igniting a primal desire within me. Meanwhile, Theodore's lips traced a scorching path along my neck, his warm breath sending shivers down my spine.
The heat between us intensified as we danced closer, the intoxicating mix of their touch and the pulsating music enveloping us in a haze of passion. Mattheo's firm grip on my nipples contrasted with Theodore's soft yet urgent kisses, creating a symphony of sensations that left me breathless and wanting more.
I gave in to the euphoria of the moment, allowing myself to be lost in the sensuality of their dance, the heat of their bodies pressing against mine, and the tantalizing sensations they evoked with every touch.
â I need you â I whispered breathlessly to Theo, my desire clear in my voice.
He responded by sucking harsher on my neck, igniting a wave of pleasure. It wasn't a secret â that I have been with both of them before more than once, strictly following my rule of sex without feelings. But this time was different.I craved both of them at the same time, and I made sure they knew it..
"Need you both," I moaned, my hands sliding down to Mattheo's, urging him to squeeze harder on my nipples. Their initial confusion was replaced by a hunger that matched my own as Theo's lips crashed onto mine, claiming me in a frenzy of passion. Our tongues danced in a sinful tango, exploring every inch with unbridled lust.
When Theo finally pulled away, my body ached for more. I turned around, pressing myself against Mattheo's hands, reveling in the sensation of his firm touch. I kissed him fiercely, my mouth molding to his in a torrid embrace. At the same time, Theo's lips found their way back to my neck, leaving a trail of wet kisses and delicious nips that sent shivers down my spine.
The anticipation was electric as I led them up the stairs to one of the private rooms at the bar. Every step felt like an eternity, my body humming with desire, the ache between my legs becoming almost unbearable. I couldn't wait another second to have them both, to experience the ecstasy that awaited us behind closed doors.
Once we reached the private room, I turned to face the two boys in front of me, their eyes filled with desire. Without hesitation, I led them both to the bed, the tension in the air palpable and intoxicating.
"Have you ever done this before, Theo?" I inquired as I settled down in the center of the bed, with Mattheo standing at the foot and Theo beside me.
"Hmm, a couple of times, but with two girls," Theo whispered in my ear, gently guiding me to sit on his lap.
"What about you, Riddle?" Mattheo smirked.
"The same, darling," he replied.
"Are you nervous?" Theo asked, and I shook my head. "A little, but I really, really want you both," I admitted with a soft smile, trying to maintain an air of innocence amidst the charged atmosphere.
Feeling the bulge on Theoâs pants, I subtly moved my hips to create friction, hoping to ease the ache that was building there.
Mattheo, aware of my teasing, decided to join in. "What's wrong, darling?" he whispered in my ear as he settled down on my other side.
My entire body heated up as Mattheo's hand found its way to my left thigh, while Theo rested his on my right, both of them spreading my legs to expose me further.
Their hands roamed down my body, exposing my panties to the cool air of the room. I blushed as I felt the dampness between my legs, and I couldn't help but rest my head on Theoâs strong shoulder. "So beautiful, baby," he murmured before kissing me again with hunger, his tongue exploring my mouth as I moaned into the kiss. He took full advantage of my vulnerability.
When we parted, I glanced at Mattheo, noticing his gaze lingering on my covered core. I quivered under their touch, my desire growing more intense as Theo continued to touch me.
His hands skillfully opened my legs even further, keeping them spread wide. Fingertips traced along my inner thighs, igniting shivers of anticipation. I whimpered, yearning for his touch. Mattheo's hands explored over my covered mound, confirming the wetness that had pooled there. I arched my back, moaning softly as I rocked my hips against Theo's hard bulge.
"Donât tease her too much, Matt. Give her what she wants," Theo's voice commanded as one of his hands slipped underneath my panties, finding my clit and sending a jolt of pleasure through me. I couldn't help but moan as soon as he touched it.
I felt like putty in their hands, no longer the dominant one in control. Theo's finger expertly circled my clit, using my own wetness as lubric
His other hand slipped underneath my dress, confirming my lack of a bra, and he eagerly seized my breast, squeezing it. I squirmed on his lap, craving more of his touch with every passing second.
Even as I writhed in pleasure on Theo's lap, I couldn't ignore Mattheo's presence as he knelt down in front of me. His fingers traced down my clothed slit, eliciting a moan from me as he touched my clit. Mattheo skillfully circled it, coaxing more sounds of pleasure from me. Meanwhile, Theo's hands ventured back under my dress, molding my breast in his hand and squeezing them as he kissed my neck. My hips jerked involuntarily as Mattheo's fingers neared my opening.
The sensation of both their hands exploring my body overwhelmed me, and I couldn't help but open my legs wider for them. Mattheo's gaze locked onto my pussy, and I blushed crimson under his scrutiny, my body thrumming with anticipation.
I was moaning, my hands reaching for Mattheo's hair, allowing me to better rock my hips against his mouth and fingers. While Theo silenced my moans with hot kisses, Mattheo's fingers entered me. He began to lick me once more as he started fingering me.
I could feel my body tensing even more, coiling with every thrust he gave me. I started moving my hips more against his face, eager for him to hit the spot that I knew would make me explode. I didn't know how much longer I could last, but then I felt Theo's fingers playing with my clit along with Mattheo's, and that's what made me climax.
I screamed out as Mattheo's mouth quickly went to drink my juices, not letting a single drop go to waste, while Theo continued to play with my clit, already sensitive from my orgasm.
I looked behind, seeing the smug look on Theo's face as he took in my flushed appearance and saw me cum.
Mattheo licked me clean, loving how his tongue made me shudder when he touched my clit.
Once he was done, he came up and kissed my lips.
I noticed how Mattheo's bulge got bigger, realizing that he needed to relieve himself as well.
"Think you should return the favor, (Y/N)," Theo whispered into my ear, almost as if he read my mind.
I nodded throwing my dress to the floor as my hands reached for Mattheo's jeans, quickly undoing them and pulling them off along with his boxers. His cock sprang free, standing erect right in front of my eyes as he got out of his jeans. I couldn't wait until that was inside me, but first, I just had to have him in my mouth.
I licked the tip first, my eyes never leaving Mattheo's. He looked at me with so much passion. As I licked his head, my hands jerked the part that wasn't in my mouth. I could hear him groaning as I smiled, knowing that I was making him groan.
I was about to take him whole, but then I felt Theo lift me up off his lap. I looked back at Theo and saw him standing up, removing his pants. He smiled, knowing that I was looking at him. He reached for my hips, placing me on all fours. My ass was on full display for him as I took Mattheo's dick in my mouth again.
I finally took Mattheoâs cock as far into my mouth as I could without gagging. Mattheo's hands gripped my hair, pulling me towards him.
I was taking him as well as I could, trying to take him all in my mouth, and I was about to when I felt Theo's touch on my center.
I let out a moan, stimulating Mattheo even more.
I took him out of my mouth, my hands still jerking him as I looked over at Theo behind me.
I saw him with a sly smile as he smacked my ass; I let out a scream.
"Do you like getting spanked while you have a dick down your throat, baby?" he said with his dominant voice.
"Yes," I responded to him, crying so much my tears blurred my vision.
I went back to taking him in my mouth, wanting to taste Mattheo even more. All of a sudden, I felt Theo's cock between my folds. He wanted to enter me, but mainly to let his cock get covered with my juices, which made me scream once more. I leaned my bum against him desperately.
âMatt, please tell himââ I couldnât contain myself when Theo spanked me once more, making me scream. Mattheo's hands were on my hair, softly pushing it from my face. âShhhh, baby, itâs alright.â
Theo made his tip rub against my clit. I was moaning more as his hands went to play with my chest and one with my clit. I was becoming a mess; I took Mattheo more into my mouth, and Mattheo began rocking his hips against me. I kept my head still, letting him enter my mouth as Theo was slowly entering me, just letting the head tease me.
Suddenly, Theo entered me, taking me from behind. I let out a scream as he thrust hard into me. He let me adjust to his length and the angle he was in. He began moving, his thrusts coming slowly, and he just hissed at how amazing I felt. His hands held my hips tightly to pull me against him. His fingers were still teasing me, making my own hips move against him, wanting to create even more friction between us both.
I went back to Mattheo, my hands playing as I licked him from base to end. I tried matching the bobbing of my head to the thrusts of Theo's.
Mattheo was close to coming; he just needed a little bit more to send him over the edge.
I wanted him to come, so I began playing more vigorously, sucking him harder and faster. And Theo was doing the same to me, hearing the slapping sound of our skins echoing in the room.
Theo pounded against me, still not ready to come, but he was going to make me cum. He sped up his thrusts, and I sped up as well, trying to match him, but he was faster, stimulating me more, making me explode against him.
Mattheo let out a groan as he exploded into my mouth. My mouth filled with his cum, feeling the warmth trickle down my throat. I looked up at him, my mouth still filled with his cum, and he looked amazed at what I was going to do next.
I swallowed, opening my mouth and showing him my now-empty mouth.
"Fucking hell," Mattheo said, letting his fingers clean a bit of his cum that I didn't swallow. âYou will be the death of me.â
"We aren't even done with her yet, Matt," Theo said as he picked me up, setting me down and slowing his thrusts. He leaned down to take one of my nipples in his mouth. I screamed and arched my back, holding Mattheo's hand.
âShhh, you're doing a good job for us, Y/N, darling,â Mattheo said, kissing my neck, and I melted in their hands.
I didnât think i could feel this filled. They both gave me time to adjust to this new feeling. As I came so hard that I felt my soul might just leave my body from the pleasure.
Giving me a minute, I felt Theo's hot cum on my stomach. I opened my eyes slowly to get settled again with Mattheo's dick on me. He slowly slid himself inside me. I ran my hands through his hair, crying out as he sucked my nipple, and I felt Theoâs lips taking their turn in my mouth, kissing me softly with so much passion. âBreathe for me, darling,â he said, putting soft kisses on my neck, and I calmed myself down, doing what he asked me to.
âYes, just like that, good girl,â Mattheo said, letting me get used to the feeling of him inside me. He began rocking his hips a bit faster. He continued to thrust harder against me, enjoying how with each thrust, I let out a small whimper.
Their hands roamed my body, touching anywhere they could, making me quiver for them. They knew where to touch, having had sex with them plenty of times; they were easily able to find my weak spots, the places that made me squirm. Mattheo was thrusting so fast I thought that we just might break the bed, while Theoâs lips were on one of my nipples and his hands circled my clit. I screamed so loud, my back ached on the bed and my toes curled.
They repeated over and over, I wasnât sure how long I was going to last. I could feel the pressure in my core building; I really was going to cum, and if they kept whispering into my ear like that, I was going to do it sooner.
âDo you want to cum, sweetheart?â Mattheo said as his grip on my hips tightened to pull me to him. âDo you like being used like that?â yes yes I wanted to scream but canât find the energy to
I started to let out small whimpers; they knew that I was close. âThatâs it, baby, donât hold back, just let go,â Theo whispered. âDonât hold it back,â he repeated as he licked my neck.
âYour pussy takes my cock so well, sweetheart. Do you think you can handle both of us together?â I couldnât really process what he was saying, but I nodded, pretty sure I would agree to anything they wanted me to say.
âSuch a dirty princess wanting two loads in her pretty little cunt. I suppose I can give you that,â Theo said as he opened my mouth with his fingers, making me take his dick inside as well.
I kept sucking, taking him all in my mouth while Mattheo still thrusts in me. He only lasts for a few thrusts, but the sensation is better than I could have imagined, his cum filling me up alongside Theoâs and leaving me with a lasting warmth. Mattheoâs head falls between my shoulder blades.
And then it hit me, the strong feeling in my stomach. âOh, Matt, I think thereâs something,â I donât know how to put it into words as I felt Theoâs dick in me again. âShhh, I know, love, I know,â he said, leaving kisses all over my face.
I was a moaning mess, Mattheo latched his lips on my neck, sucking on my sweet spot that made me moan out his name. Theo began to kiss the other side of my neck as his hands reached for my breasts, syncing his thrusts.
Theo pulled out of me, his cum matching Mattheoâs in my stomach, then it happensâan unbroken stream of fluid rushed out of me, spraying over the bed sheets. I was shaking, my back ached so bad that when I came down, I felt like I passed out for a moment or two.
âFucking hell,â Mattheo said in my ear. âThatâs the best fucking thing I ever did in my life, sweetheart,â he said, pushing my hair from my face softly.
âWe are really fucked now, baby,â Theo said. And then I realized that my stupid rule of no feelings had been broken.
not for one person but two. I was in love with both of them, and I knew that was going to ruin my life.
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#mattheoxreader#mattheo riddle masterlist#mattheo riddle imagine#mattheo smut#mattheo riddle x reader#mattheo riddle smut#mattheo riddle#theodore nott#theodore nott x y/n#theodore nott x reader#theodore nott imagine#theodore nott smut#mattheoriddlexreaderxtheodorenott#slytherin boys#slytherin boys x reader#slytherin boys x you#smut#threes0me
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what do you think about a story with Alex Sampson? He's a cute singer and songwriter and was really good a America's got Talent
ALEX GOT TALENT
Alex Sampson had always been the golden boy of Americaâs Got Talent. With his golden locks, dazzling smile, and natural talent, he was the kind of star people couldnât help but adore. But admiration wasnât the only thing Alex drew from othersâhe also attracted envy.
Tyler, a stagehand who had spent years working behind the scenes, was consumed by that envy. Heâd watched Alex shine, effortlessly winning hearts while Tyler faded into the background. Every smile Alex gave, every cheer from the crowd, was like a knife twisting in Tylerâs chest.
And Tyler had decided it was time to do something about it.
The trap was simple. Tyler waited until the rehearsal ended, lurking in the shadows of Alexâs dressing room. Alex walked in, humming to himself, completely unaware of the danger.
âHey, Alex,â Tyler said, stepping into the room with a forced grin. âMind if I grab an autograph before the show? My niece is a huge fan.â
Alex turned, ever polite, and flashed that winning smile. âOf course, man. Got a pen?â
Tyler didnât answer. Instead, he pulled out an ancient-looking amulet from his pocket. Its surface shimmered with an unnatural light.
âWhatâs that?â Alex asked, his smile fading.
Before he could react, Tyler muttered an incantation under his breath. The air in the room seemed to crackle with energy, and Alex stumbled back, his body trembling.
âW-Whatâs happening?!â Alex cried out, his voice strained with panic.
A strange glow enveloped Alex, his limbs locking in place as his body began to distort. His arms flattened, his torso compressed, and his legs seemed to fuse together. His skin turned soft and fabric-like, his features melting into smooth, black cotton.
His screams faded into silence as his form twisted into something unrecognizable. Moments later, Alex was gone, replaced by a simple black tank top crumpled on the floor.
Tyler knelt down and picked up the tank top, holding it up to the light. The fabric felt warm in his hands, almost alive. He could feel Alexâs presenceâhis fear, his confusionâtrapped within the threads.
âNot so perfect now, are we?â Tyler sneered, a dark satisfaction curling his lips.
Tyler stripped off his own shirt, tossing it aside, and slipped the Alex tank top over his body. The moment the fabric touched his skin, the amulet around his neck pulsed with energy. His body convulsed as it began to change.
His wiry frame filled out, muscles rippling under his skin. His chest broadened, his abs tightened into a perfect six-pack, and his arms became toned and strong. He felt his posture straighten, his skin smooth and flawless. Tylerâs reflection in the mirror shimmered, and when the glow faded, Alex Sampson stared back at him.
Tyler ran his hands over his new face, marveling at the sharp jawline, the perfect smile, and the piercing blue eyes. He flexed his arms, tracing the definition of his biceps, then ran his fingers through the thick, golden hair.
âDamn,â he muttered, his voice now Alexâs deep, smooth tone. âNo wonder everyone loves you.â
Tyler leaned closer to the mirror, flashing a grin. âLook at these abs,â he said, lifting the tank top slightly to admire them. âAnd this face... perfection.â He laughed, the sound dripping with malice.
Turning to the tank top still on his body, he smirked. âBet youâre loving this, huh, Alex? Watching me be better at being you than you ever were.â
The next day, Tylerânow Alexâwalked onto the stage, soaking in the applause. The judges praised his performance, calling it his best yet. Fans online couldnât stop talking about how âAlexâ had outdone himself.
But the real Alex, trapped as the tank top clinging to Tylerâs chest, could feel every moment. He could sense Tylerâs heartbeat, hear the cheers of the crowd, and even see the stage lights through some twisted connection.
Tyler, meanwhile, basked in the stolen glory. Every time he passed a mirror, he admired himself, flexing and posing. Heâd whisper to the tank top, mocking Alex.
âYour life is mine now,â Tyler said one night, his reflection smirking at him. âAnd you? Youâre nothing but an accessory. A piece of fabric. No oneâs even going to miss you.â
Weeks passed, and Tyler perfected his act. He knew exactly how to mimic Alexâs charm and mannerisms. The world believed the lie, and Tyler relished every second of it.
But beneath the surface of his stolen identity, the tank topâAlexâstill burned with anger. Every thread of his being screamed for revenge. Would he find a way to break free? Or was he doomed to remain a silent witness as Tyler lived his dream?
#celebrity tf#body swap#celebtf#transformation#gay#male body suit#malebody swap#male shapeshift#body switch#character transformation#inanimate tf#alex sampson#agt#americas got talent
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