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lo1k-diamonds · 3 months ago

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Be as it must 💜 Part 3

“Is there more to learn about you, Jungkook?”

PAIRING: Alpha!Jungkook x Omega(f)reader

SUMMARY: You try to resist the CEO's charms, but it's hard... At least until the other shoe drops.

WORD COUNT: 8.9 k

GENRE: ABO, strangers to lovers, fated lovers, smut

RATING: R (explicit)

WARNINGS: tension and teasing, and angst

A.N. A huge thank you to @moonleeai for the beta read💜 This was never supposed to be so long, but I'm a fan of making the reader fall in love too... Before the bomb drops 💣 Enjoy 😉

You thought getting kidnapped would be the most bizarre experience you had ever been through, but it seemed like CEO Jeon Jungkook had other thoughts.

If it wasn’t weird that you entered his gigantic Seoul building while unconscious and tied up, it had to be that you exited escorted by the man himself, right into a car that you had only ever seen on television. You shrunk into the back seat, not only feeling weird with the surrounding spacious, immaculate leather, but with the fact that beyond the smoked glass, the CEO was telling something to the driver before he got inside the car.

You refused to look back to confirm whether the CEO had stayed put, watching you go; instead, you closed your eyes and heaved a deep sigh. It was outlandish that you wanted to turn around and see him there, as if you needed reassurance, when in truth, he was part of the problem.

You thought the weirdness would end there, which led you to look outside the window and see the tall buildings reflecting the city lights as the car moved. He was your boss, after all. If anything, he did need you to deal with the American consortium negotiations. And you trusted his word; he said you could leave once it was all said and done, so you weren’t a prisoner.

But you did not expect what he had planned for you.

“CEO Jeon has asked me to convey to you that he means to assure your comfort,” the man, Seung Ji-Young, said after introducing himself as the CEO’s driver and assistant, looking at you through the rearview mirror. You raised an eyebrow. “Given the circumstances, he has made arrangements to have a series of boutiques welcome you so you may relax and feel right at home.”

Your forehead creased as you took a glance at the time displayed on the dashboard, “At this hour?”

“Of course.”

You blinked, glancing again — 20:25. You shook your head, “Why would I need clothes? Unless—” You leaned forward, “What happened to my luggage?”

“We have it, rest assured.”

You couldn’t stop frowning at the weirdness of it all, “Right.”

“If there is somewhere else you’d like to go to relax, like a spa, it is not a problem. I’ve been instructed to drive you wherever you’d like.”

Your lips became an uneasy line, “No, I’m fine.”

The man nodded as he drove with a serious demeanor, “Then may I suggest a Michelin star—”

“No,” you interrupted swiftly, afraid that his offers would never stop. “Just— Just take me home— I mean, where I’m supposed to sleep.”

“Certainly.”

You groaned mutely and rubbed your eyes; now, even you were talking weirdly. But could anyone blame you after everything that had happened?

You stayed quiet as the car drove smoothly through narrower and narrower streets. Despite trusting what the CEO had said, you couldn’t help the uneasiness twisting your guts.

Finally, the car entered an underground garage and you were able to breathe. Mr Seung circled the car to get your small luggage from the back, including your handbag, and you bowed in relief, finding in it all your very important documents and belongings. It certainly comforted you enough to follow Mr Seung across the parking lot and into the elevator with a renewed sureness that you were not a prisoner.

“Would you like to go straight to your suite or take a look at the amenities first?”

His voice was as gentle as ever, and you tried to offer him a small smile, “Straight to bed would be best.” He pressed the keypad to select the 48th floor, and you frowned again, “Shouldn’t I check in first?”

“You mean with the concierge? No, he’s aware of your presence and available 24 hours in case you need anything.”

Your mouth opened, but you quickly closed it; maybe the CEO owned an apartment. That would justify why you weren’t at a hotel right now. You honestly didn’t care as long as you could put that day behind you.

The final straw took form in the quiet, gentle explanation of Mr Seung, “The amenities at your disposal include the residence lounge, gym, movie theater, swimming pool and spa. The latter includes a sauna, whirlpool, jet bath, and steam room at any hour, while the massages and skin and body treatments are available during the day. Of course, given the circumstances, a call can be made to arrange any treatment of your preference within the hour. Anything from a massage to a mud bath can be arranged; please don’t hesitate.”

You nodded respectfully while you screamed in your head — why was this happening? You just wanted your head to hit the pillows. The exhaustion taking over your mind was rendering you out of order, yet that ahjussi was so nice. Why was it all so hard?

“Ah, here we are,” he said as the elevator came to a stop gently with a sweet voice announcing the floor over the speakers.

You exited the elevator first, though you waited for Mr Seung to indicate to you which of the two doors was intended for you and to type the code in.

Once the door opened, you entered and braced yourself with eyes so wide they were twice the size. The stairs to your left indicated you were in a duplex penthouse, but it was the open concept of the space that floored you. Oak herringbone floors expanded into a panoramic view through floor-to-ceiling windows from one side of the building to the other. The soft touches of the white furniture and long couch in the living room extended into the dining room with a long glass table with an exorbitant vase of flowers that brought a heart stopping pop of color.

You blinked, befuddled, at the luxury surrounding you, and Mr Seung passed by you to indicate the next room, “There is the kitchen, should you need to arrange something, and a private terrace for your enjoyment as well.”

You glanced over the natural stone tops in shades of pure white matching the cabinets and circled the island to check what he was talking about. The view continued on that side of the building, leaving you speechless. From that high, the world looked small. It was as if that place was out of touch with reality.

“But perhaps you’d like to see the guest suite,” he smiled, and you just nodded.

You followed him back towards the staircase, ready to pick up your luggage, when he waved at a paper on the foyer table.

“CEO Jeon wanted you to know the password so you can make use of the apartment as you please. He’s also asked me to inform you that everything is at your disposal, including all snacks and beverages.”

You blinked, trying to keep up through the stupor, “How did he have time to fill up the pantry?”

You were wondering more to yourself, but Mr Seung chuckled, “We do it for him, of course. He particularly likes shrimp crackers, but I’m sure he won’t mind if you take some.”

You could only frown as though the information was odd. Mr Seung grabbed your luggage and started his way up the stairs, and you finally managed to say, “He lives here?”

“Of course, he owns the building.”

He didn’t stop, thus missing the way your grimace spelled a What?! with furrowed eyebrows, wide eyes and parted lips. You looked around you once more, taking in the crazy luxury surrounding you before hurrying up the stairs. You thought he had booked a hotel room for you, at most owned an empty apartment, and that was already in the realm of stupidly crazy rich. But what did he mean, the CEO lived here? Here, as in the building? Or here, as in—

Your breath caught as you reached the upper floor. The wall that faced the floor-to-ceiling window was entirely covered by a dark blue tapestry with glistening silver stars surrounding a central half-moon serving as the base of a vibrant orange tiger lily, shining brighter than any celestial bodies around it. You swallowed hard and looked at the master room across from where Mr Seung had disappeared with your luggage. Someone lived there, and you didn’t need more than the half-moon and dark blue colors to remember the Jeon Family emblem. Still, if that wasn’t enough, his scent reaching your nose told you everything you needed to know.

“Here you have it, the guest suite.”

Mr Seung was smiling as he opened the door to a walk-in closet, a small office, and then, across the room, to the ensuite bathroom. Meanwhile, a view as breathtaking as downstairs greeted you, and you continued to be flabbergasted.

“I thought he meant a hotel…” you whispered.

“CEO Jeon wanted to make sure of your comfort personally.”

You glanced at the man, and it was only because he seemed dead serious, almost concerned, that you didn’t throw your hands to the ceiling. Who cared about what the CEO wanted?! You were tired! And overwhelmed! And done with everything being blown out of proportion!

“But, of course, if you are dissatisfied, I can arrange for a five-star—”

“No, no, please,” you found yourself raising a hand and closing your eyes, begging him to stop. “I’ll stay, this is fine. No, perfect. It’s perfect, I’m perfectly happy.”

Mr Seung’s eyes instantly softened, as though you being pleased comforted him deeply. “I’m glad to hear it. I’m usually available to drive CEO Jeon at 6 AM, but should you require me to be available earlier, I’d be happy to assist you.”

You stared at the man, speechless. How was he so kind and sweet, and where did he come from?

“No, I— I can get to the office by mys—” You bit your tongue, then raked your hair back. What was the point, really? “I normally go to the office around eight thirty, so please don’t hurry because of me. I need to sleep. Badly.”

You huffed the last words, but Mr Seung stiffened as though he had been stung, “Of course, I won’t hold you any longer. Have a good night.”

He bowed deeply, making you rush to do the same before he left quietly. Your fingers gripped your hair roots as you looked around you — what the fuck? The incredible cityscape view, the suite that was probably your apartment size, the room across from yours where CEO Jeon slept… Everything was just surreal.

You woke up the next morning with a renewed vitality. Not because that was the best bed you had ever slept in, the biggest shower you had ever used, or the most delicious breakfast you had ever had, but because you had processed things. CEO Jeon Jungkook was an alpha of the Jeon Family who, through medieval means, had committed a crime based solely on your blood. Your rare designation did not excuse it, and as such, he was trying his best to accommodate you to prevent you from causing a scene, suing, exposing, or all of the above. There was a potential additional agenda that involved the traditional matching of an omega to an alpha, but you were in the XXI century. Alphas didn’t have to be with omegas, rare as they were, and you would not be coerced into engaging in such ancient customs. CEO Jeon would respect your wishes, and you believed his word.

He had even entered and left his own apartment without a word or a sound. You had slept like a rock — perhaps surprisingly, you felt safe there — but you had expected to see him at breakfast, at least. In the end, the only proof you had of his fleeting presence was the closed bedroom door and dirty coffee mug at the head of the dining table. You almost felt bad for potentially making him uncomfortable, but then remembered this was all his fault. Plus, he probably made Mr Seung drive him at 6 AM, which was also barbaric.

It brought a smile to your face to see Mr Seung’s happiness when you told him how you had rested well. You believed his care ran deeper than any CEO Jeon’s order, though you couldn’t help wondering if it was because he knew of your designation.

Fortunately, at the office, such things didn’t matter. As soon as you said your name to one of the secretaries on the last floor, she instantly provided you with your own office and badge, explaining how everything worked. You were used to sharing an office, but you had decided not to complain. Live and let live. If the CEO wanted to overbear you with such things, you’d accept them quietly. You just needed to do your job and leave.

Your laptop remained your own, so entering the workflow was seamless. You were pleased to find all the information about the rescheduled meetings, and emails about other projects you were working on. You even made sure to check in and reassure Yoon Minsik, your mentor, before attending the first in-person meeting with the legal team of that office.

Although you had only met most of them online, it was a cordial and nice moment before starting what you hoped would be a fruitful meeting. But then CEO Jeon arrived.

Before, you were just a member of the team, participating in meetings you’d otherwise attend online. After he entered the room, however, you were an omega in the presence of an alpha who easily disrupted the flow of the conversation.

You didn’t believe he did it on purpose, in his defense. You could smell humans amongst the team, and even they were affected by the CEO’s presence. What you’d like to say is that you, contrary to them, were not impacted in any way, but that was not the case.

You had to clear your voice as you spoke and actively force yourself to pretend he wasn’t there. Inwardly, you kept reassuring yourself that it was just that department meeting to coordinate ongoing projects. He wasn’t usually there, but maybe he had made an exception this time.

Only CEO Jeon was present in every meeting.

It was exhausting to focus on each different project and give your best while trying to ignore him. Not that he spoke a lot, but when he did, it threw your attention completely off. He looked so fine. That black designer suit framed his large shoulders deliciously, making every move as evident as possible. Making you imagine what it would be like to be caged in by said arms, embracing you as if—

“Hey!”

You blinked and looked away as everyone got up from their chairs. You should have noticed the meeting ended and that the CEO had been forced to leave, called by that woman, his secretary — Sunhwa.

You faced one of your colleagues, who was smiling expectantly, “Should we have lunch together?”

It was easy to accede and join her and the team, but your thoughts remained on Sunhwa. She wasn’t present in the meetings, but you had noticed her easily because every single time you had to move between meeting rooms — and the CEO did the same — she showed up to talk to him, pass him a file, or just accompany him. To the point you wondered if he needed a bodyguard and heard whispers of other people potentially commenting the same. You couldn’t help feeling bad for her; you couldn’t decide if she was jealous of you, with all the stink eyes she threw your way at every chance, or overzealous.

Regardless, you thought it didn’t matter because, in the afternoon, things would be different. Those meetings would be all about the American consortium negotiations, both internal and external, and you ran those without the presence of the CEO.

You had to huff quietly as he pulled the chair next to you, oddly sharing with you the head of that meeting room table. Except for a glance and polite smile, you didn’t give him any more of your attention. It was unsettling enough if your boss would accompany you to every meeting as if to assess your worth, but the fact that he was so close, with big brown eyes trained on you while his scent made your head spin… It made it a thousand times harder.

Still, you braved through the meeting, expecting things to go well because that was your element. What you didn’t count on were his interruptions.

“I’m certain we don’t need to renegotiate the time window; they will surely accept it.”

“Have we established concrete rules for the use of prototypes?”

“What about intellectual rights? As the manufacturer, shouldn’t we obtain the rights to all procedures that we optimize during development?”

Your expression softened, “According to agreement stipulations, by signing, we commit to safely keep their intellectual property, which includes all manufacturing processes. If these are optimized, they will be added to the patent. We will, of course, negotiate appropriate compensation should that happen, including access to prototypes and benefits should the production cost or time be reduced.”

The room was quiet after you spoke, but you had forgotten about them. Instead, your eyes were fixed on the CEO’s. Very round and very big, almost sparkling at you, entirely taken by what you had said. His gaze was curious, intense and interested, so you couldn’t be mad about his disruptions.

Still, you sighed. He was distracting.

“Let’s proceed to the financial section,” you asked, waving at the appropriate head of the department to speak up.

The CEO tapped his tablet to jump to the appropriate page of the document, clearing his throat, and you subtly leaned to whisper into his ear, “Focus.”

Your eyes met when you pulled back, and it was like the record changed. If his questions seemed chaotic and somewhat disconnected before, now they were spot on. From one meeting to the other, including with the American company representatives, every comment was precise, demonstrating flawlessly why the Jeon conglomerate was unavoidable in the South Korean industry.

You were secretly impressed, though you expected nothing less. Perhaps the way you had managed to work together so seamlessly in front of the American company representatives was surprising, but you imagined that a pro like him could make it work with anyone. He wasn’t nicknamed good at everything for nothing.

You assumed he was pleased, too, when the video call ended, and he leaned back into his chair, laughing quietly. His glee made you smile as you gathered your things and closed your laptop, observing everyone else in the room calling it a day while you wondered if Mr Seung would take you home. It was silly of you, but with everything that happened, you didn’t even memorize the address—

“That was so smooth. I think we floored them,” he grinned, getting up to his feet as though he was even more energized than before.

You chuckled and nodded, putting your laptop in your bag. Maybe that was so, but you were ready to go home.

“Have dinner with me.”

You stopped shy of closing the bag and looked at him instantly, batting your eyelashes with all your befuddlement.

“We have to celebrate,” he continued, and his grin reemerged as though he couldn’t contain it.

“They haven’t signed it yet,” you were quiet, instinctively reasoning with him despite not even being able to fully think right now.

He chuckled, “But they will, no doubt. I’m sure we will have a response by tomorrow and a verbal agreement shortly after.”

You nodded and looked down, unable to stop the way your body reacted. He was taller than you, broad, all-encompassing, and smelled strong, sweet...dizzying. There were two sides to that moment: who he was — so destabilizing, you thought there was no avoiding it — and what he was saying — so professional, when you wanted to forget all about it.

Fortunately, in your hazed mind, the latter won. “We’ll wrap up sooner, and I’ll get to return to Busan faster, then.”

Your entranced eyes captured the way his jaw hardened easily. His eyes sparked differently, with a look to them that caused a tingle to go down your spine, but he nodded, “Indeed. So dinner tonight.”

His tone implied you were just giving him more reasons to insist, and the corners of your lips twitched mischievously. Maybe you were; it was hard to resist.

“CEO Jeon?”

You stiffened like you had just been caught stealing candy and didn’t bother to look. You forced the zipper closed and grabbed your bag, purposefully pushing what Sunhwa was telling the CEO to fade with the background noise. Whatever it was, maybe it was a good thing — you needed distance to think, too.

You bowed to both on your way out and didn’t mean to spare a glance, but his voice beckoned you to look back, “Mr Seung is in the parking lot, please go with him.”

You nodded, meaning to appease the worry in his voice and eyes, and melted when you succeeded. His features instantly returned to a confident, dazzling smile before turning to Sunhwa about whatever work-related issue she was referring to, and you had to swallow. You shouldn’t be so attuned to how he felt; it didn’t make any sense. Still, as you made your way to his apartment with his driver, all you could think was that you never officially accepted his invitation.

Jungkook nodded after Mr Seung confirmed that he had dropped you off safely at the apartment, where you had stayed for the last three hours. You hadn’t requested to go anywhere in particular, and arrangements had been made for dinner, so he could relax.

He sighed as he closed his eyes and let the purr of the car lull him. He knew it would be an interesting day, but not even his wildest dreams could have prepared him for it.

First, arriving home the night before to the faint trace of your sweet jasmine scent absolutely threw him off. The whole night he had to keep himself in check; no, he couldn’t follow your delicate perfume to your bed, touch you, or claim you. You probably didn’t trust him after the way you ended up there, and he wasn’t a creep. He could reign in his primal urge and leave the decision up to you. He could show you that being next to him was fate, as intrinsically inescapable as the Earth and Moon orbiting each other. You’d realize that soon enough and ask him to touch you instead.

He could barely sleep, so his second move was to leave the apartment as soon as humanly possible. He needed to review everything about the projects you were working on, plus get his work out of the way so he could attend every meeting of yours and watch you in your element.

Jungkook was frankly impressed; you were like a fish in water, navigating every topic and hurdle effortlessly. He wasn’t sure you noticed how everyone quieted down to listen to you and obliged and interacted every time you requested it, but it was a wonder to see. If he hadn’t smelled your designation, he would have wondered what kind of woman conducted such ease and readiness.

Unfortunately, you were also incredibly distracting. Not only was he probably not of use to you in your work, but he was also falling behind in the slightest with his duties. Sunhwa kept reminding him, of course, and he appreciated it, but he couldn’t bring himself to worry about anything else.

Which made him wonder if you’d be a liability and not an asset if you stayed. However, that was a fleeting thought because as soon as it emerged, it evaporated when you whispered into his ear, “Focus.”

The whiff of your scent hit him so hard he had to close his eyes so no one would see them rolling back. Then he faced you, and your gaze did something to him. It was strong and encouraging, and he was set. Suddenly, he could focus. His mind was clear and everything just worked.

It was incredible, inebriating; better than hitting the jackpot, it was like you were his focus token that increased his abilities by two hundred percent. So inviting you to dinner was as easy as breathing. You mentioning Busan again almost ruined his mood, but then you obliged with big, starry eyes when he asked you to drive with Mr Seung in the exact spot he was in now, going home to you, and he couldn’t help the widest grin. He hadn’t lost you, not yet.

He knew it was late, and he wouldn’t dream of keeping you starving while waiting for him. Your shoes and handbag were by the entrance, so he knew you were inside. There was noise from the kitchen, though that couldn’t be you, so he jumped on the couch and heaved a deep breath, closing his eyes. He loved the sweet scent that lingered around the house because of you; it instantly relaxed him but also gave him a push. Maybe he should check on you—

He heard steps down the stairs at the same time his personal chef exited the kitchen to inform him dinner was ready and on the table.

“Would you like me to stay and serve?”

Jungkook dismissed the chef swiftly and quietly, acknowledging their head bow just in time to turn to you. His hand was on the noose of his tie, instantly loosening it as his mouth watered. He was starving, but it wasn’t food on his mind as he ate up the view.

You were wearing something quite professional — black dress pants with a silk blouse that was a hint of blue. He would have thought you too formal if it weren’t for your bare feet stepping quietly on the wood floor, along with your still-humid hair falling in waves over your shoulders and chest. But like this, he could only smile at you entering the living room and imagine you jumping into his arms to welcome him home after a long day. Then, what you wore wouldn’t matter, not because he’d be free to undress you, but because with your touch, everything would feel whole.

You bowed politely to the chef, watching them go, and it gave Jungkook a moment of clarity: what he felt was beyond simple interest. It wasn’t fascination or attraction, it was everything combined. He didn’t think it was possible; a skeptical part of him still insisted it wasn’t.

But then you opened your mouth and changed the very axis upon which his world spun. “Good evening.”

He could only smirk; the simplest words could escape your lips, and he’d drink them like they were gospel, “Good evening.”

Your astute eyes observed him, and it was like lying down at the beach under the warm sunlight, “Was there a problem at the office?”

He tilted his head, “I needed to finish up some things. I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to keep you waiting.”

Your lips twitched as you nodded, “It’s not a problem. In fact, I realized I never accepted your invitation, so I wasn’t sure if it still stood.”

He smirked, “It does, and it looks like you accepted.”

His arms stretched over the back of the couch, and you had to consciously keep your feet from taking you to him. It wasn’t an invitation, no matter how inviting it seemed.

“I thought it was wise to be ready,” you informed, taking a few steps to the side, unable to stay still.

“To have dinner with me?”

“To celebrate,” you corrected, trying to resist his smirk by keeping your expression as neutral as possible.

“By yourself?”

His eyebrow quirked, daring, and you finally smiled, “I was told there is a residence lounge. Thought I could get a drink there, and who knows who could join me.”

You shrugged nonchalantly, and he laughed openly, “You’re right.” He got up, loosening his tie completely and throwing it on the couch. It was enough to tense your back, dissipating your smile as you observed him taking off his suit coat and leaving it next to the tie. “I should have started by offering a drink. Is wine okay?”

Blood spread to your cheeks, but he didn’t notice as he turned around to enter the dining room. It gave you a moment to breathe. “If it’s red. Otherwise, I’m afraid I’ll have to leave.”

His laughter was music to your ears as you followed him, only to confirm that the person leaving was wearing a white chef coat for good reason. The glass dining table was set for two, at the head and the place to its right, and in between, an assortment of dishes released a delicious warm scent. From meat to shrimp, noodles to rice, boiled, fermented or fried, it seemed the chef had decided to leave you with a big variety just so you could have anything you possibly wanted.

Your eyes turned to him, his back facing you as he got a red wine bottle from the wine cooler. “This is incredible,” you voiced, unafraid of sounding too easily impressed. That table with the panoramic view and the incredible lighting showing his gleeful smile would easily shake anyone.

“I’m happy you like it.”

“Do you always have dinner like this?”

He placed the bottle on the table, twisting the corkscrew to get it open, “No, not at all. I asked for something special tonight.”

You heard the pop of the cork coming off, but that wasn’t why your heart skipped a beat. He reached for a wine glass on the table, poured a line of wine, then swirled it and took a soft sniff, smiling ecstatically after.

He raised the glass to you, and you stepped forward to accept it, entranced. You took a whiff, too, and the sweet, dark fruit aromas made your eyelashes flutter. You detected the blackberries and plums, and surely a trace of cloves.

Your reaction was enough for him to nod and pour a glass for himself. His shifting attention allowed you to swallow and ask, “Was this what you had in mind?”

He smirked, then turned to you, and your heart flipped again. He had shortened the distance between you and cupped your hand around the glass to tilt it forward towards his chest. The wine glugs, filling your glass, were but an afterthought as you looked at him, his eyes so close you could see stars.

“Absolutely,” he said quietly, yet you heard him so clearly. His expression was likely as serious as yours, mirroring the same tension as he took the bottle away. “This was exactly what I had in mind.”

The sound of the bottle being placed on the table didn’t rattle you; nothing was louder than your racing heart. His hand left yours, and although you could see the reluctance, you bit your inner lip to stay quiet. Being that close didn’t mean just having your breath stolen by his sparkly eyes or unique beauty marks; it also meant seeing how red his eyes were.

“I see… but if you're too tired, we can take a rain check.”

You were certain your worry was easily heard in your voice, yet he shook his head with a returning wide smile and raised his glass between you, “Not a chance.”

Your lips twitched, but you nodded and raised your glass to clink his, bringing it to your lips as he did the same. The velvety taste matched its aroma perfectly, but you weren’t paying attention. His eyes were locked with yours as though that tension was unbreakable, and you realized you didn’t know what you were celebrating. He didn’t specify the toast, and somehow, you knew work had stayed in the office tonight.

When you put the glass down, you weren’t sure you were dizzy with the alcohol or the moment, but your cheeks were hot. You ignored it, just to keep staring into the stars in his eyes, when a stomach growl cut the silence.

You looked down at his stomach, covered by a black button shirt, then up, “Woah, that was powerful.”

He smirked and rubbed the back of his head, “Sorry, I’m starving. Let’s dig in.” He waved at you to sit by his side, “Please, go ahead. Take anything you’d like.”

He held back, even as you took your time to observe the table and take your pick. He adjusted himself on the chair, but it was surprisingly easy to let you start first. It was just right.

“I wanted to have samgyeopsal,” he confessed, smiling sheepishly. “But we’d have to go to a real barbecue for that and—”

Your eyes widened with a spark, a small gasp jerking your shoulders as you reached for a bowl, “Not a problem.”

He raised an eyebrow at your sudden interest, then chuckled, “Do you like japchae that much?”

“My absolute favorite,” you nodded, filling your plate with utmost focus.

“Alright, I’ll make it for you a lot.”

You had started eating but stopped stuffing your face with the delicious noodles, raising your eyebrows at him instead while he served himself. “You can cook?”

He chuckled, “I love cooking. I’d be showing off my skills right now, but I’m more interested in talking to you.” The butterflies in your stomach twirled around as you stared up at him. He only chuckled, “But now I know. Let’s see, what else? What about makguksu? I have an awesome recipe as well.”

It was easy to eat while you discussed food, especially if it was a chance to quiz him and confirm he knew what he was talking about. He did, and you overlooked his initial promise to cook for you in exchange for a normal, healthy culinary debate.

But neither of you wanted to eat or talk about food all night. He ate a lot, you noticed, and by the end, every dish was done. The red bottle was empty too, so it was the perfect moment to get up.

“I’ll grab another one,” he said, waving at the couch while he headed to the wine cooler. It could have been your chance to say goodnight, but you didn’t want to. “Why do you only drink red?” He asked loudly, and you turned to look over your shoulder at him. “Can't it be Lambrusco?”

You chuckled and sat on the couch, “Lambrusco is a red, and it's delicious. Bring it on!”

The sound of the bottle being dragged out of the cooler, placed on the glass dining table, and popped open made your skin tingle pleasurably. It could be his proximity messing with your nerves, or the alcohol. A cautious part of you thought it was best to call it a night, but the bottle was already open, and he was already extending a new glass to you.

You clinked glasses in silence again once he sat down, and this time, you didn’t bother wondering about the occasion.

“Why not white?”

He mused after the sweetness made him click his tongue, and you sighed with a second sip, “Too acidic for me.”

“Noted,” he nodded, his features serious. “I'll get rid of all whites to make space for more Lambrusco.”

You laughed, “Why would you refine your stock based on my taste?”

He laughed with you, then bit his lip. You smiled as you took another sip, and you looked so happy, simply enjoying yourself, that his priorities shifted. “I like learning more about you.”

“You do?”

You sounded surprised, but he didn’t hesitate. “Yes.”

“Well, I haven't learned as much about you,” you scrunched your nose, choosing to take things lightly, and he chuckled.

“I'm sure you already know a lot.”

You tried not to scoff, “I don’t. You think because you’re the CEO, I would know your taste in wine?” Your tone only made him laugh more, leaning back into a pillow that had his abandoned suit coat before he faced you again. “Do you even like reds?”

“Oh yeah, but I prefer beer. Oh, and whiskey.”

“So we know our next drink…”

You hid behind the glass and he smirked, “Good idea. I'll make my specialty cocktail. Only close friends know about it, so know you'll taste something exclusive.”

“Really? I’m flattered; who knew I’d get to know the CEO so well.”

The corner of your mouth raised with mischief as you emptied your glass, and instantly, he was refilling it with a slightly raised eyebrow, “You can call me Jungkook.”

His dark eyes, as he instructed you, released a current down your spine that spread warmth in every direction. There was no way that calling your boss by his first name was a good idea, but you had stopped playing it safe a few glasses ago.

“Is there more to learn about you, Jungkook?” His name on your tongue drew his eyes to your mouth, conveniently about to take another sip. You reveled in the sweetness and tension of that moment, hopefully as much as him. “Something no one else knows.”

His teeth bit into his lower lip to stop a grin, and he nodded, “Certainly.” He placed the glass down on the coffee table and you swallowed. “There’s a lot to find out.”

He unfastened his cuff links, casually folding and pulling the sleeves of his black button shirt to his elbow, and you gasped.

You leaned forward with your free hand, “You have a sleeve?”

He grinned slyly, extending his right arm for you to touch more easily, “I do.”

He was quiet while you explored every tattoo line, from the clock to the letters, stopping to wonder at the tiger lily in bright tones of orange. “Incredible,” you muttered, dragging your finger easily. You were so focused that you missed the goosebumps forming under your touch. He let you turn his arm and even pull the sleeve a bit further up, where you noticed more lines and figures ready to show. You were so insistent you pouted when the fabric got so tight around his bicep it refused to rake further up to his shoulder.

His chuckle drew your attention, “I can take it off if you’d like to see the rest.”

Your hands withdrew instantly, fingers rubbing on each other needily. Your eyes caught the absence of any other article of clothing underneath his shirt, and you swallowed down your heated longing. “No, I— Of course not.”

You didn’t bother saying it was inappropriate; you fell back on your side of the couch. Your throat seemed to have blocked, so you cleared it. There was a line you shouldn’t cross, but you also didn’t want to stop whatever you two were doing.

“I don’t have tattoos,” you started, pulling your blouse sleeve. “But I do have this birthmark.”

His eyes followed your fingers, then he grabbed your arm delicately to trace it with his fingers. Your forearm erupted in goosebumps, electrified by his caress, attention, and warmth. It was almost overwhelming, and you had to swallow thickly to keep silent.

“It looks like a butterfly,” he mused, concentrating, and you nodded.

“My mother calls me that.”

He whispered something under his breath, then shifted in his seat, “Look.”

He brought his forearm next to yours, and you realized what he meant: your birthmark was parallel to his tiger lily. Superposed, your butterfly would find its home in him. It made you shudder from head to toe.

“What ties you to Busan?” His question broke the spell despite his caresses to your arm. You frowned, trying to catch his line of thought. “Friends? Family?”

The Lambrusco swirled a little inside his glass, revealing a short tremble, and your eyes stayed low on his lily, “My mother, mostly. She doesn’t live in Busan, but in a village not too far away.”

Your apprehension was palpable, so you weren’t surprised when he brushed the back of his fingers in a feather-like touch on your forearm, “I understand if it’s too personal, you don’t have to tell me anything that will make you uncomfortable.”

Whether because of his soft touch or warm eyes, you instantly shook your head, “Not uncomfortable, just… I don’t really talk about her. Or my family. She doesn’t like it and—”

Your brow furrowed, and he was ready to reassure you, but you decided to say it.

“And nobody would understand, but maybe you would,” you pushed out, looking into his eyes. Your mom would chastise you for this decision, but it was yours nonetheless. You just felt so alone in all this. “Our family made sacrifices to be eradicated from the registry, and for generations, we’ve been hiding so we wouldn’t be detected.”

He nodded gravely, lowering his eyes to his fingers still touching your milky skin.

“You’re probably the last person I should tell this to,” you chuckled. “But even though times should be different, I was never certain where to draw the line between potential paranoia and it just being like she described. Unfortunately, recent events have made me conclude she was not wrong in wanting us to be cautious.”

“Wait, there’s—” He pressed his lips before he sorted his words, looking at you intently, “There’s something to be said about your mother’s fears and the outdated methods the Family uses to search for omegas. They should know it’s criminal, but it’s how my grandfather found my grandmother, so I suppose that’s why they insist on it.”

“He kidnapped her too?”

“No—” He almost choked. “Hunters found her and brought her to him. They were mates and inseparable.”

“You met her?”

Your tone was almost anxious, and he smiled with a nod, “The only omega I’ve ever met other than you.” His expression showed fondness, “Grandpa was crazy about her and everyone loved her. She had this… aura to her. I was instantly calm. I was… a bit of a reckless and loud kid, but she never got angry at me. She would just put me on her lap and ask me what happened, and soon after, she was tickling me while I told her all about my adventures.”

You leaned on your side into the couch back, “Adventures, huh?”

It wasn’t hard to imagine, especially when he smirked mischievously, “My knees wouldn't have gotten bruised if I hadn't chased a pirate up a tree.”

“A pirate?”

Your eyebrows jumped, and you both laughed quietly. You were glad to be at ease, folding a leg under you.

“What an exciting childhood you had.”

“What about yours?”

You pursed your lips, “It was just me and my mother. My dad died in a car accident when I was a kid, and my grandma had dementia and died not too long after.”

His eyes softened, “That must have been hard.”

“It was the most on my mom.”

“How old were you?”

“Thirteen.”

“It must have affected you,” his voice quieted, and you noticed his thumb never stopped brushing your pulse point, soothing you for a while now.

“I grew up fast,” you shrugged, casually letting his touch continue. “It was hard because my mother was paranoid about us being caught, but I was raised around humans, unsure if her stories were true and if I should really just… stay hidden in that village or do something with myself.” He nodded, and you admitted, “That’s why hearing from others that my fate isn’t to be used as a tool, abused, or anything like that is…”

“No,” he pressed his thumb to your wrist, and it seemed to you it was to placate his own anxiety this time. “I promise you, that is not— I would never do that.”

His voice was firm, but something in your eyes must have given you away. You didn’t want to believe he was lying, but it wasn’t in his best interest to tell you the truth.

“My grandma always said a mate’s love was the foundation of our family and that I shouldn’t give up, even if my father never found her.” His eyes lowered once more to your arm before he faced you, “I grew up with them, seeing what a mate’s bond looks like. I would never hurt an omega, even if she wasn’t my mate.”

“But there are those who would.”

“Maybe once upon a time, but I swear things are different now. It was their mistreatment that led to their extinction. Well, alleged,” he corrected, eying you meaningfully. “The Families had to turn to betas, which was seen mostly as a catastrophe a couple of generations back.”

“Why?”

“It affected the strength of their blood, lines started dying and alpha numbers dwindled too. The egoistical views and attitudes of a few generations almost cost us everything.”

“So shouldn’t the way omegas were treated be the real catastrophe?”

Your tone was rough around the edges, but his eyes remained soft, “Worse than a catastrophe, an atrocity. It hurt so many for so many generations.”

His tone was apologetic as he looked at you, but it didn’t soothe you. Not even his touch on your wrist did. “If you recognize the problem, then you should be the first one to set an example. You acknowledge it was an atrocity, but you still send hunters to kidnap omegas instead of searching for yourself.”

“What do you mean?”

He actually looked lost, so you clarified, “If you don’t want to give up like your grandmother suggested, then maybe you should go down to Busan and search for yourself. Meet people.”

His eyebrows jumped, then he shook his head with an embarrassed smile, “I… never considered it.”

“Imagine if you had.”

Your chest warmed with his gaze on yours. You didn’t know why you were admonishing him for not visiting sooner, borderline implying you would have met differently, just like his grandmother had hoped. The past couldn’t be changed, and nothing would happen regardless.

You cleared your throat, “Anyway, it's annoying that your secretary keeps calling me fake.”

He huffed, letting his head fall on the back of the couch as though it tired him too.

“I never wanted to be recognized or seen as just my designation, but it is who I am, so she's pissing me off.”

You sneered at the ridiculousness of the situation, and he nodded, “It's because she never met anyone like you… I don't think she's able to really smell it. She's not as sensitive as us. But you don't have to worry about her. I'll handle things with her.”

You took the glass to your mouth, musing over it quietly. “Well, she works for you… and I won't stay long anyway.”

He was drinking when you spoke, his jaw becoming the slightest bit sharper under the light. His thumb still rubbed your pulse point soothingly.

“Actually… I have a question if you don’t mind.”

You pressed your lips sheepishly, and he almost choked in his hurry to nod.

“What do I smell like?” Your eyebrows framed your curious, big eyes, and his lips parted in wonder. “I've asked my mom, but she only tells me I'm sweet. I've never met anyone else I could ask.”

He blinked away his shock, straightening instantly to lean in a bit closer to you. Not that he needed to; effectively, he could pinpoint every trace and note of your unique aroma. But when you let your head fall back the slightest to expose your neck, he couldn’t be stopped. It was the sweetest invitation, baring your neck to him so he could take you in up close and personal.

He almost growled, something so deep inside him stirring he had to grip the glass and keep himself from grabbing your wrist or pressing his face into the crook of your neck. He was certain you’d taste and feel as endlessly delicate as your scent, but he knew the limits. Even if he thought of you as his, it had to come from you. If anything came out of getting to know you, it was that waiting was the only option he had if he ever wanted to welcome his mate by his side.

So he groaned silently and pulled back; he might not have met you in the right circumstances, but he wasn’t about to fuck this up.

“She’s right, you smell sweet,” he rasped, looking into your beautiful eyes again, so close he could see the black dots hiding among the lights. “Like jasmines — sweet, deep, and fond. And me?” He saw you swallow, but he couldn’t resist, “What do I smell like?”

“I’m sure you know,” you tried, though you didn’t move.

He shook his head, “What do I smell like to you?”

You looked down at his neck with a hint of uneasiness, but his soothing touch calmed you enough to go forward. You leaned into the crook of his neck, so close you felt his body warmth emanating. One deep breath, though, and you almost whimpered. Your free hand gripped his arm as your whole body warmed and thrummed with the heady scent.

“Strong,” you whispered, noticing a moment later his neck was covered in goosebumps. “Earthy.” You couldn’t resist nuzzling his skin the slightest, raising it up his neck until you met his jaw. “Spicy, something so alluring I just…”

You nuzzled his cheek and he turned to face you, with lips so close to yours, his warm breath lulled your eyes closed. You were certain his lips would touch yours, releasing all that tension into a burst that would raze your senses.

But the sounds of a keypad being pressed made you instinctively pull back, and you were happy you did because in mere seconds it was as though the rug was being pulled from under your feet.

The front door burst open, and you jumped to your feet, frightened. Jungkook stood up, too, trying to regain the touch that had been severed in the motion, but it was too late. You both had to face the woman storming inside the apartment, with eyes so wide, and nostrils so wide in fury, it confused you more than anything.

“What the hell?!”

Sunhwa’s outrage wasn’t missed on you, but all you could do was frown, stupefied.

“What are you doing?” Jungkook’s tone was cold, and you weren’t certain if that was the right reaction. Shouldn’t he be pissed that his secretary just stormed into his apartment late at night?

“What am I doing? What are you doing?!”

His eyes hardened as though her question didn’t merit a reply, and she threw the folders in her hand on the coffee table.

“I wanted to update you on the ASICS deal and thought you probably wouldn’t have eaten yet, so I called Chef Jae, and they told me they had prepared the special dinner you asked for!”

You glanced at him, even more confused than before, and his reply came quiet, “You should know better than to just barge in here.”

“You weren’t picking up the phone!”

Her screeches were starting to give you a headache, “Alright, listen. It’s past eleven in the evening, surely there’s nothing that can justify causing a scene like this.”

Her laugh was a shriek, “You have some gall to tell me I can’t cause a scene, huh?! First, you try to seduce him by falsely claiming to be an omega—”

“I am!”

“— and now you’ve invited yourself into his apartment! Do you really have no shame? I won’t stand for this!”

Your eyebrows jumped in pure disbelief, “And who are you to care what an adult man does in his apartment?”

She stomped her foot, fuming as she glared, “I’m his fiancé!”

Your stomach dropped, spreading such coldness through your guts, you froze.

In years of law, despite dealing with senseless clients at times, you had never lost your composure or words, but today was the day. Her words, that scene, and the deceit underlying that whole night gutted you, so you were speechless.

“You don't know what you're saying.”

His tone was firm, but one glance told you he was seething. Your first instinct was to resent him; he should be apologizing, not angry that his fiancé ruined the ruse.

Sunhwa crossed her arms with a laugh, “Oh, so I'm suddenly not?”

“We have a contract.”

“Precisely!”

Her clapback was triumphant, and you stiffened even further.

“This is not what you think,” he said, having turned to you.

You looked at him slowly, but Sunhwa was already stepping closer between you, “This is exactly what you think! He's promised to me! How dare you come in here and try to seduce him with your false claims and—!”

“Enough!”

His roar effectively silenced her, making even the glass in your hand reverberate. It forced you to look away and realize you had no business standing there.

You put the glass on the coffee table, “I see you have things to discuss, so I'll leave you to it.”

You ignored the smothering silence surrounding you and headed up the stairs.

That silence was dearly missed when the last concrete thing you heard was Sunhwa freaking out, “She's sleeping here?!”

You closed the bedroom door and weighed your options, but then ended up locking the door and hiding with your face into your pillow. You had drunk too much, and it was too late to wander off in the middle of Seoul. For now, you’d just have to stay.

269 notes · View notes

anaconamor · 10 months ago

Text

airports and late night dates - jude bellingham x reader.

quick sum: “hi babe! can you do a story when y/n it's not a celebrity or a famous person and she has her first appereance as jude’s girlfriend in public. they are at a airport and paparazzi are very curious taking photos and shit and jude is beeing very protective with her. love you.”

wc: 2k | masterlist | jude’s masterlist

psa 🗣️: HAIII ILYSM AS WELL!! jude being a literal body guard and so protective would so be him 😔🤞🏻 added another cute scene after because bf! jude is soooo 🫂🤍!! tiny insta au at the end 😚, like always hope you enjoy!! 🤍

almost a day of traveling had completely drained you. arguing with TSA about your bags in the overhead compartment, your headphones dying on the first flight, accidentally spilling your snacks before buying them, a baby in the plane with their nonstop crying. all you wanted and looked forward to was being with jude.

almost two months without seeing him, without getting to feel his hugs or kisses, hearing him speak in person or to even smell his masculine scent. studying still in germany, your time with him was very small due to having hectic careers. you in uni while he thrived in madrid.

what you most loved and appreciated was not letting that get in the way when making plans or when together. unless it wasn’t convenient or couldn’t work. besides that he made it a priory to fly out to you when he could or you when you had time off. when you were finally together it was to make up for lost time and to be around each other at all times.

to jude:

just landed! headache is killing me i need OUT this plane right now 😑

from jude:

sorry baby! almost here though to be with me! 😉 i’ll be waiting by the baggage claim for you 🤍

to jude:

winky face emoji? really jude? you can’t even properly wink 🙄😂

from jude:

i will book the first fly out before you can even get out the plane 😒

to jude:

no pls i’m sorry! i’m just being moody today has drained me and i’m in need for water and food 😔

from jude:

no cuddles from me?

to jude:

need those especially ☹️🤍

you smiled to yourself, shutting your phone and quietly playing your music, retrieving your carry on purse and putting away any snacks away. you grabbed your small luggage in the overhead compartment, waiting a couple of seconds before slowly walking out, saying thank you and goodbye to the flight attendants.

you practically were sprinting with anticipation out to the gate and then airport to pass customs quickly. not caring if you looked like a mad woman running around. the lady at customs was sweet and fast, asking your reason for your trip and declaring anything to which you denied.

you went through TSA again, kinda annoyed of having to take everything on for a few seconds to then putting it on again. you put your shoes on quickly, grabbing your purse and luggage and ensuring you had everything before leaving. your body ran with chills and excitement, telling jude you were maybe 20 minutes away, to which he replied saying he was here.

you walked around glancing at your phone then and there to check the time and any texts from him and the airline. it was super late almost midnight when you finally were down the escalator stairs looking around for jude. you put your hood up, feeling the cool air from outside into the building causing you to get cold.

you still look around, texting jude you were finally here, debating to call him or not. your finger cling onto your bag, feeling a body behind you and whispering to your level in your ear. “looking for me?” jude whispered, making you jump and turning around. you hugged him tight, almost tearing up due to the exhaustion and seeing him again.

jude picked you up, legs coming around his waist feeling as he dugged his head into your neck and chuckling. “you’re actually here with me? been waiting for so long, you have no idea,” he said making you giggle and pleading him to put you down so you could give him a proper kiss. “does that make it real for you?”

“nope need one more for confirmation,” he joked but actually leant down to capture you in a heated and messy kiss. “not here jude… what if there is cameras?” you say between the kiss, hands resting on his face as he shook his head, “i know i know, just missed you so much,” he frowned, placing one final kiss on your head.

everyone knew jude had a gf, but they didn’t know who you were as you wanted to be private as possible. the idea of being exposed to his world just wasn’t what you wanted right now. you wanted to finish school first, and start your career before fully having to question your every move. you didn’t want to let their comment or any words to your head.

jude respected that, even so wanted to keep you private not because he didn’t want to show you off but to protect your from the constant flash here and flash there in his life. he was barely getting used to it, and he knew you couldn’t quickly adapt or liked the idea, no matter where you were.

the two of you obviously still went out in public, luckily every time you did you didn’t run into people as often or got recognized. you didn’t let that stop you from having a relationship you loved and deserved together.

“these are for you darling,” he passed you a bouquet of your favorite flowers, “and these as well,” he then retrieved some of your favorite snacks from england. he could see the glint of happiness and appreciation in your eyes, as you poured your lip and thanked him. “i have some gifts for you too, they’re in my other bag. thank you baby,” you sealed the moment with a kiss.

you walked hand and hand together to where other people waited by the baggage claim, jude bringing his arm around your waist to protect you from people who passed by in a rush or with their bags. he wore an all black outfit, with a black baseball cap on his head, looking so boyfriend than ever.

you saw a flash from the corner of your eye, looking up to see where it came from, but jude was quick to pull and hide you away. “was that?” jude answer the question with a quickly nod, “yes… idk how they’re here… i’m sorry baby-”

“it’s okay, i doubt more of them more are here. i only saw one of them,” you reassured him following as you two hid behind a pilar. “let’s pray there’s only one. i don’t know how they found me? i’ve been under the radar since my injury,” jude said frustrated, feeling your hand squeeze his to sooth the anger down a bit and showing that you were here with him.

jude grabbed your single bag, putting his hood up like you had and walked out to the car that was parked by the entrance. the driver had the trunk open helping jude with the bags when a van full with cameras proceeded to pull over and quickly flash the scene. jude whispered a small “shit” to himself, going over to you, and pulling you to his chest hiding you away as you got into the car.

you could hear the commotion and pleads to jude, then asking questions who you were, what your name was, how he was doing, about his injury. the whole encounter was making your head spin and race with nervousness, not used to the flash to your face, or the amount of people around you. you knew it came when being with jude but not like this where you were barely with him for an hour.

jude urged the driver to pull away, quickly driving away through a secret path and letting you out quick from the paparazzi. you laughed loudly, throwing your head back as jude stared at you with a face of amusement yet also confusing. “what? what are you laughing at?” he asked laughing a bit himself.

“at the fact we only thought it would be only one of them, but they had their whole crew waiting outside!” you laughed louder clapping your hands and shaking your head. the whole encounter causing a wave of emotions, and it seemed like laughing is the only thing you could do. jude laughed himself, hearing you calm down a place a kiss on the back of his hand.

“can i be honest? for some reason i feel like a weight has been lifted off my shoulders. we’re so used to being careful and having to change routes the times we go out in public together so we can’t be seen. it’s a relief because i feel like i don’t have to hide you or us away, making it real for everyone else including us, you know? at the same time it’s scary but i don’t care as king as i’m with you,” you say honestly, sighing with relief.

“only if you’re comfortable and okay with it, i only want what’s best for us and you especially, to protect you from what just happened there or for what they’ll say. once we come out you know there’s no going back,” jude reminds you. you knew this came when being with him. you shook your head and looked up at him, “i want it all with you. i’ll say it once and i’ll say it again.”

he leaned down and kissed you sweetly and softly, leaning your forehead together before he told another joke, “well that’s having a real madrid player as a boyfriend for you.” you rolled your eyes playfully, kissing his forehead and focused in front to the road.

“you hungry?”

“starving,” you moaned, hearing your stomach grumble at the thought of some food. “we can pass buy to get the street pizza and churros with chocolate you love dearly?" he offered making you shake your head yes quickly. "please! i will love you forever!"

he sided eyed you giving you a look, telling the driver who took a detour, arriving in less than ten minutes. he ordered for you, getting recognized immediately by the guy who almost jumped up and down happily. jude also asked the driver if they wanted anything since they were out for a while, to which they said yes.

"don't you dare," you warned, eyes widening at him reaching for your churros and chocolate, "excuse me? i literally got you these?" he defended not caring and dipping the warm churro into the chocolate sauce. "mhm so good, taste better when it's not yours," he attempted to wink which made you burst into fits of laughter. "leave me alone!" he wailed at you making fun of him.

jude thanked the worker, bringing your food to the table, which smelled like warm bread and pizza. you quickly opened the box, taking a sip from your drink and not wasting time to eat. jude watched with entertainment at how you enjoyed and devoured the street food. taking a picture to have for memories later on.

the two of you spoke quietly as you ate, talking about your eventful day, the lady at TSA who almost didn't let you on the flight, his successful training and photo shoot for the team, the story behind the flowers, the paparazzi and how you would maneuver once the headline was out.

once you were at his house, you wasted no time and got into the shower, unpacking some of your pj's but jude offered his clothes because he loved when you wore them. it didn't get any better than this. cuddled up in his bed, finally together after so long. he spoke quietly to you, knowing how his voiced soothed and made you go to sleep peacefully.

for the first time after many nights, jude slept safe and sound, knowing that if you were;t next to him, he wouldn't be able to sleep as well when with you. his fingertips raked along your skin, then slowly stopped as he fell asleep as well. "you have no idea how much i love you. wish you were with me always, goodnight my pretty girl, sweet dreams, only if I'm in them..."

"jude. i love you too. but, shut up or i swear i'll sleep in the next room..."

spottedcelebrity

liked by: user384, username091, judeyfannnnn, user2974, dailymail, popculture, thesun, username22, themadridtimes, 2,384,102 others.

spottedcelebrity: your goldenboy seen recently at the airport but with his apparent long lost lover. recent rumors and dms say that these two have been together since he was at Dortmund, that she has been also seen at games and the real Madrid new years party. any thoughts? stay tuned for our early 9am show for more details on this couple...

comments:

user385: NO WAY. WHAT ON EARTH?

user273: this is what it took to see her? the paparazzi? really hope this won't affect them :(

thesun: 👀

username874: i've seen her at his award ceremony back last year... this isn't tea we've been knowing he has a gf.

popculture: those pics? 👀

username85: oh lord... this is just the start, hope they're okay, saw the video and she looked super scared, jude even more concerned but for her...

↪️ user09: the way he pulled her into his chest to protect her? he is so boyfriend!!!

ynusername added to their stories! 🔒

judebellingham added to their stories!

#jude bellingham #judey thoughts 5️⃣#jude bellingham x reader #jude bellingham imagine #jude bellingham blurb #jude bellingham one shot #football fanfic #footballer #football x reader #football imagine #football one shot

971 notes · View notes

archangeldyke-all · 6 months ago

Note

throne sex with royal!Sevi & royal!reader 👁️👁️

okay okay okay okay gonna combine it with another smutty ask that just goes together with this one tooooo perfectly:

riding sev while she’s tied up 😏😏😉😵‍💫

men and minors dni

your wife's been neglecting you.

learning about, growing with, and falling deeper in love with princess sevika has made this past year the best of your life. you've never been happier; and from what all the servants and attendants tell you; sevika hasn't either.

but last week, her father left the country for a diplomatic tour of the world-- leaving the nation in her hands while he dances and schmoozes and eats his way across the globe.

she's acting as queen, essentially, but she's still only given the limited resources and powers of a princess.

it's exhausting, stressful, and frustrating.

you're going to give the king a stern talking to once he returns about how to properly treat the heir to his throne. (you're the only one in the kingdom who can raise your voice at him, since he can't hang you unless he wants war with your parents.)

but, for now: you have a wife to take care of.

you've temporarily moved into the palace-- both so sevika can be closer to work, and so that she's more protected while she acts as the nation's leader. the hallways are cold, echoing, and entirely unfamiliar to you. you've just now memorized the twists and turns from your chambers to the throne room, and you've been walking this path a dozen times a day for two weeks now.

you sigh, rubbing your tired eyes as you approach the grand doorway. you woke up ten minutes ago to the clock tower striking midnight, and sevika's side of the bed still cold and empty. you should've dressed better-- the palace is cold at night-- but you were still half asleep when you stumbled out of your chambers in search of your wife.

you recognize the guard standing in front of the closed doors. "good evening, lock."

"good evening, your highness."

"is she inside?" you ask.

the knight nods. "she's asked not to be disturbed."

you huff. "do you think she considers me a disruption?" you ask.

lock smirks at you. this is why you like him-- he's not afraid to joke around with you. "i think she considers you the biggest disturbance."

you giggle and shake your head, before reaching forward and cracking one of the giant doors. lock does nothing to stop you. "how soundproof are these doors?" you ask before you slip into the throne room. the knight snorts.

"not enough for someone outside to not hear screams."

"hmm... maybe you should go on a walk, then, lock. return to your post after a nice perimeter check, how's that sound?"

lock just winks at you, shaking his head and laughing as he turns on his heel and heads down the hall. "you've got thirty minutes!" he calls over his shoulder.

you grin, then slip into the throne room.

at the sound of the door slamming closed behind you, sevika lifts her tired eyes from her lap where she's studying scrolls. "i asked not to be dis--" she cuts herself off at the sight of you. "fuck. what time is it?" she asks as you approach her.

you reach out, gently cupping your wife's scarred cheek in your hand. "past midnight." you whisper. sevika cringes.

"i'm sorry, love." she sighs, deflating into the throne behind her. she's adorable, her usual perfect posture melting away into a relaxed slouch as you stroke her face, her eyelids drooping a bit.

"what're you working on?" you ask, picking up the scrolls and maps on her lap and taking their spot. sevika's arms wrap around your waist, her chin immediately hooking over your shoulder as you shuffle through the papers and documents.

"trade routes." she grunts. you cringe and she nods. "it's infuriating. if i could send our troops somewhere i'd be fucking useful but i can't so i'm stuck just... thinking about all the problems."

"well, what are the problems?" you ask, studying the markings sevika's drawn on her maps.

"flooding in the eastern peninsula has collapsed three of the bridges that connect them to the mainland. all non-essential trade's been halted, which is wreaking havoc on the art trade in the southern islands, because they rely on the trade of the non-essential clay and mud from the east for a majority of their pottery and tiles. and without the tile, the northern territories have nothing to build with so they've put the construction of their university and library on hold."

you take in the information for a moment, studying the maps in your lap as you try to remember the local politics and trade agreements of the connecting villages and towns between all the current problem areas.

slowly, a solution starts to form in your mind, and a smile starts to spread on your lips.

sevika squeezes your hip. you blink down at her. "what's that look?" she asks. you giggle, then lean down to kiss sevika's lips. she sighs against you.

"i've got it figured out." you say. you push the papers off your lap, they fall to the floor in a mess. sevika gasps.

"y-you do not!" she protests. you laugh and nod, shifting in sevika's lap to straddle her legs.

"i do. we'll have my parents lend the eastern peninsula some ships while they repair the bridges to ship the clay. they owe zaun anyways, for the aid you provided five years ago when they were recovering from the wildfires in the countryside." you say.

sevika blinks up at you rapidly, and then she curses, throwing her head back dramatically. "fuck!"

"what?" you ask, worried you're hurting her. you scramble to get off her lap, but she reaches out to keep you still.

"i keep forgetting i married a genius. it took you two fuckin' minutes to think of that, babe! i've been lookin' at this shit for hours!" she whines.

you snort and lean forward to kiss her. "you've been coming up with smart shit all day, baby." you remind her. "and it's only been a year. someday you'll remember me..." you sigh dramatically. sevika snorts and pinches your hip and you grin. "but, until then, i'm happy to remind you how amazing i am." you say, leaning forward slowly. sevika smiles up at you, her eyes closing as she anticipates a kiss. you giggle, then hop off her lap.

sevika's eyes pop back open and she whines. "where're you going?" she asks, pouting at you.

her pout quickly disappears when you start to tug at the tie of your plush velvet robe. sevika's back straightens, her eyes get wide, and her tongue darts out to lick her lips. you laugh, shaking your head fondly as you untie your robe.

sevika sits back in her throne like she's expecting a show. you just shake your head fondly, letting her believe what she needs to keep her relaxed and unsuspecting.

instead of shedding your robe, you pull the thin fabric belt free and circle the throne.

"where're you going?" sevika whines again, craning her neck to continue watching you. you just giggle, and start massaging her shoulders. she relaxes again. you giggle and kiss her scalp.

"you made me a promise, sev." you whisper.

sevika hums. "i did?"

"mhm. when we first got to the palace, remember what you swore to me?"

sevika sighs gustily, half ashamed, half annoyed. "promised i wouldn't work myself too hard."

"and do you think you've kept that promise?" you ask, keeping your voice soft and sweet. sevika huffs again.

"...no." she admits. you grin, and then move faster than sevika can process. in a flash, you've got her hands tied behind the back of the throne with the soft belt of your robe. sevika gasps, struggling against her restraints as you laugh and circle your trapped wife. "what the fuck!?" sevika squawks.

you giggle and straddle her lap again.

her eyes are drawn to the small gap in your robe, your cunt on full display for just a moment as you settle down on top of her legs. there's a shy, excited smile playing at the corner of her mouth. fuck, you love her.

"in my country, i could have you hanged for breaking your word to me." you say. sevika blinks up at you dreamily.

"yeah?"

you laugh and nod. "yeah. i kinda like you, though, and we're in your nation, so... i figured i could come up with a different punishment for you." you whisper.

sevika's eyes are dark and wide, her chest heaving even though she hasn't moved from her seat. "doesn't seem like much of a punishment." she says. you giggle, and lean forward to kiss her lips.

she'll think differently in a few minutes. for now, you enjoy the feeling of your strong wife rendered helpless beneath you.

sure, she could break through the flimsy loose knot you've tied her with. she doesn't, though, because she likes it. it's clear as day, written all over her excited face-- princess sevika's got a secret subby side.

it's in your top ten favorite things about her (on the sexual version of the list.)

you kiss her until she's putty in your hands, slowly, mindlessly grinding against her lap.

when she starts to whimper and her feet start to shuffle on the floor beneath her, you pull away with a smile.

"need something?" you ask.

"fuck, please." sevika whines. you laugh.

"please what baby? you didn't even ask for anything." you tease, cupping her blushing cheeks in your hands.

sevika gulps and scrunches her eyes shut to focus on her words. "i-i wanna see you." she whines.

you laugh. "so take my robe off." you say, pushing your chest forward. sevika groans. "y'know. i was waitin' naked in bed for you." sevika shivers underneath you. you giggle. "was kinda hopin' you'd come to bed and take advantage of me-- maybe i'd wake up with your hands on me..." sevika's enraptured with your story, nodding up at you to get you to continue. you smile down at your sweet girl, and kiss her nose. "but since you decided to be bad, i woke up freezing cold and all alone instead."

sevika actually whimpers. you try (and fail) to bite back your grin at the sound. "i-i'm sorry." she whines. you giggle.

"not as sorry as you're gonna be, baby." you promise her, kissing her pouting lips.

sevika's predictable once you get to know her.

it's one of your top ten favorite things about her. (on the not sexual list)

she likes a big breakfast in the morning, and then smaller meals throughout the day. she prefers her stiff, utilitarian military uniform to her flouncy royal gowns; and if she can help it, she'll wear pants. and, since the day she had the royal artisans hand craft a strap for the two of you: sevika hardpacks when she goes to work.

it makes her feel hot, and it honestly helps her fill out her (customarily men's) uniform pants. plus-- more times than not, watching sevika work gets you worked up. it's just more convenient for her to put it on every morning.

so, when you unclasp her pants and push them down her hips, you're counting on the bulge in her boxers. the sight of it makes you grin. "one of these days i'm getting my own cock made." you sigh as you start to stroke her bulge.

sevika shudders, both from your words and from the pressure of your hand. "you wouldn't know what to do with it." she huffs.

you giggle. "probably not. i'm sure you'd figure out something to do with it, though." you laugh. sevika blushes bright red, and you laugh, leaning forward to nibble her ear.

"sh-shut up." she whines.

"oh please, like you're not soaking your pants thinkin' about me fuckin' you." you tease. sevika's thighs clench together and you cackle.

"b-baby." sevika whines.

"you just never know sev. one of these days, you'll be crawlin' under my skirts to taste me 'n i'll get to fuck your throat instead." sevika shudders, squeezing her eyes shut and burying her face against your shoulder. you giggle. "you like that?"

"yes." sevika's voice cracks, and her answer comes out as a squeak.

"mmh. me too. 'm so wet thinkin' about it, look." you whisper, before you reach under your robe and swipe two fingers up your wet cunt.

sevika lunges forward, wrapping her lips around your fingers before you can even properly show off your arousal. she moans at the taste of you, her eyes locked on yours as she swirls her tongue between your digits.

your cunt squeezes around nothing at the feeling, and you moan, shoving your fingers further into her mouth. sevika takes it perfectly, her spit trailing down your wrist as you start to fuck her mouth with your fingers.

"fuck, princess." you groan. "thinkin' about suckin' my cock, huh?" you ask. sevika's eyes roll back in her skull, and she nods around your fingers. you shove a third past her lips, wanting to fill her completely. the little wet noises coming from her mouth only get louder. "'m thinkin' about it too. thinkin' about fuckin' you over the balcony at home so you can tell the entire kingdom how fuckin' good i feel."

sevika chokes on your fingers, her eyes go wide, and then she falls apart beneath you, shivering and shaking in her throne as she cums in her pants. you groan, pulling your fingers out of her mouth only to replace them with your tongue, your grip on her jaw possessive as you fuck her mouth with your tongue.

"shit, sev, did you just fuckin' cum?" you gasp. sevika's still shivering and whimpering, and you kiss her again. "fuck, baby, that wasn't even your punishment! you weren't even inside me yet!" you laugh, your words interspersed with the kisses you're pressing to her face and neck.

"shut up!" she whimpers, embarrassed. you kiss her again.

"absolutely fucking not. that was so hot, shit-- i was gonna tease you so much more," you whine as you pull her cock out of her boxers, lining it up with your cunt, "but now i fuckin' need you."

sevika collapses against the throne when you sink down on her like she can actually feel you. she's still shaking from the aftershocks of her orgasm-- her handsfree orgasm-- and the reminder of it only makes you more desperate.

"fuck!" you squeal. sevika's cock is big. she usually takes her time with you, warming you up with her mouth and fingers before she finally pushes inside. but this-- this almost painful stretch-- it's making you see stars.

"baby--"

"shit, sev, you feel so fuckin' good." you groan.

"fuck, love."

you start to rock your hips and both of you whimper at the motion. "mmmfuck. can't wait to stretch you out like this." sevika gasps at your words and her head flops forward so she can bite at your throat, muffling her moans. "i'll fuck you so good, baby, i promise. fuck all the stress outta you..."

sevika growls against you-- a sound that you only ever hear when you're about to be in deep shit in the best fucking way. you're too lost in your pleasure to notice, starting to bounce on her lap as you let your fantasies and the feeling of your wife carry you away.

"fuck, sev, i'll fuck you so good i knock you up, baby."

a loud ripping sound rings thoughout the throne room, and before you can even open your eyes to figure out what's happened, sevika's launching forward, tipping both of you out of the throne.

you yelp your arms flailing uselessly as you fall, only for sevika's arms to reach out and grab you before you can crack your head open on the stone floor.

it occurs to you, very quickly in the split second that sevika takes to gently set you on the ground, that sevika's ripped through her bonds.

it's the last coherent thought you have for the rest of the night.

sevika fucks you like an animal, growling, clawing, and biting at you as you both slowly, slowly slide across the stone floor in front of the throne.

the smacking sounds of her hips meeting yours are bouncing off the high walls of the throne room, your shared moans reverberating until it melds into a constant, pleasured echo.

"sevika!" you wail. "fuck, fuck, sev, you-- baby, i love you!"

one of her hands is holding your thighs open, the other is smacking and pinching at your tits. she grins down at you, before swooping down to kiss your lips. "cum on my dick." she demands. "c'mon princess, cum for me."

the moment her hand trails up your thigh to touch your clit, you fall apart, screaming sevika's name as you soak your robe and her pants.

she grins down at you in admiration, kissing your cheeks, neck and chest as you try to catch your breath. you burst into giggles the second you've got enough air in your lungs.

"what's so funny?" sevika asks, though she's grinning like she's just as amused as you are.

"i hope lock took a really long walk." you huff.

sevika bursts into laughter, and she collapses on top of you. "fuck. i love you so much." she sighs happily.

you smile up at the arched ceiling and reach up to scratch your princess's scalp. "i love you more."

taglist!

@fyeahnix @lavendersgirl @half-of-a-gay @thesevi0lentdelights @sexysapphicshopowner

@shimtarofstupidity @chuucanchuucan @badbye666 @femme-historian @lia-winther

@ellsss @sevikaspillowprincess @emiliabby @sevikasbeloved @hellorai

@glass-apothecary @macaroni676 @artinvain @realgreeniebeanie @k3n-dyll

@sevsdollette @ellieslob

#sevika #sevika imagine #sevika arcane #sevika x reader #sevika x you #soft sevika #sevika smut

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5sospenguinqueen · 7 months ago

Text

Bright Lights, Big City | Lando Norris x Reader

Summary: Lando and his girlfriend enjoy their first non-F1 related holiday together in NYC.

Warnings: Swearing. Suggestive comments.

Female reader. Faceclaim Loey Lane

Requested by Anon. "can u do a lando x plus size reader smau of them spending time in nyc. also if it’s not too much to ask can the fc be loey lane please"

Sorry it's not very long but it was hard to find plus!size images, most of them were actually gorg mid!size girlies.

Main Masterlist

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YourUserName just posted

liked by landonorris, oscarpiastri and others

YourUserName say i’m turning big girls into hoes, oh goddamn

641 comments

User1 as you should be! empower the big girls

landonorris yes, ladies and gentleman, that is MY girl

→ maxfewtrell yes, lando, we all know. we’ve all known for the past year

→ landonorris just making sure some of these men don’t forget it

User2 i love you so much. you’ve made me learn to love my body so much more

→ YourUserName comments like this make me cry. you should love your body! 🤍

lilymhe the dark hair suits you so well

→ YourUserName thank you for making sure it didn’t stain my face

→ lilymhe part of my role as your full-time wife

→ alex_albon whoa, hold up

→ YourUserName you can’t claim her. where’s her ring, albon

→ User3 takes notes, norris

User4 is lando really dating her?

→ User5 i know. we were all shocked that he managed to bag such a hottie

→ User4 i meant, he seems like he could do better

→ User5 we know what you meant and you’re wrong

→ landonorris @ user5 agreed

User6 i love how you can tell that lando still has control over his insta because he is usually the first to comment on his girl’s posts unless he’s actually in his race car

→ User7 and the fact that he never fails to comment in her defence

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landonorris just posted

liked by pierregasly, lnfour and others

landonorris NYC has been a blast tagged: YourUserName

2,906 comments

User8 this was such a calm caption for lando. has the pr team finally gotten to him?

YourUserName pretty boy

→ User9 i bet he’s blushing, kicking his feet right now

→ maxfewtrell can confirm

→ landonorris @ YourUserName you could spit on me and i’d thank you

→ User8 nevermind… pr hasn’t got him

User10 okay but that second picture 🥵 everyone say thank you y/n

YourUserName that view looked even better when you had me pressed against the window

→ landonorris 😉

→ User11 these two are prs biggest nightmare

→ oscarpiastri can confirm

danielricciardo can’t believe you took HER and not me

→ YourUserName it’s been a year, you need to move on now, daniel

→ danielricciardo homewrecker!

→ landonorris i’ll always cherish what we had

→ danielricciardo liar!

→ YourUsername @ maxverstappen1 come collect your man

liked by kellypiquet

YourUserName just posted

liked by maxfewtrell, landonorris and others

YourUserName when visiting the big apple

766 comments

landonorris bark bark woof woof

→ mclaren this is why you keep getting pulled into pr meetings

→ User12 nurse, he got out again

YourBFF i knew when i convinced you to buy that bodysuit that you would look hawt in it

YourBFF2 i am no better than a man 🍒👀

charles_leclerc forza ferrari!

→ landonorris no!

→ YourUserName sorry charles but i’m contractually obliged to say papaya forever

→ alex_albon i knew he forced you to sign a contract to be his girlfriend

→ georgerussell63 no way she would date him otherwise

francisca.cgomes oh my, i seem to have dropped something 🩲🩲

→ pierregasly excusez-moi

→ YourUserName you heard her. she’s my kiks now

landonorris look as much as you want ladies and gents but don’t forget that i’m the one who gets to take it off at the end of the night

→ carlossazin55 i miss when you talked like this about me

→ YourUserName @ landonorris how many boyfriends do you have

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YourUserName just posted

liked by landonorris, danielricciardo and others

YourUserName i finally got to see my first broadway musical!!

844 comments

User13 lando norris seeing a broadway play was not on my 2024 bingo list

→ YourUserName i think he enjoyed it more than i did

→ landonorris don’t tell people that! i have a reputation

→ User14 no you don’t pookie

lilymhe xoxo gossip girl

→ YourUserName you know you love me

User15 i can’t believe lando norris and y/n y/l/n are in new york city the same time as me

→ User16 they were watching the same play as me and i missed them!

User17 i saw them walking around central park and the way he looks at her

→ User19 i love the fan that got a video of him tripping over a tree root because he was too busy looking at her

User1 this so cute. lando really is the blueprint

User2 yes, queen. get a guy who is more obsessed with you than you are of him

landonorris you were gone half an hour! i turned around and you had vanished, and i couldn't find you!

→ YourUserName the hot dog guy saw my mclaren hoodie and asked me if oscar piastri was my favourite driver. then we ended up talking about how much that lando norris guy sucks

→ User3 somebody please tell me this is real

→ maxewtrell yes it is. i was there. the poor guy had no idea who she was. it was hilarious

→ YourUserName i made a friend

→ oscarpiastri piastri for the win!

→ landonorris @ YourUserName how could you even joke about this. no sex for you tonight

→ YourUserName babe, like you could last a night without sex

User4 i love her ability to make lando seem like just some guy who simps for his girlfriend and not THE lando norris

→ User5 no literally, you see them together and she’s always ✨her✨ and then he’s just there

User6 they’re feeding us this week

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landonorris just posted

liked by carlossainz55, maxfewtrell and others

landonorris 🧡💛

3,001 comments

danielricciardo you two are so cute. it makes me want to kill myself

→ landonorris do you want us to tell you that you have so much to live for

→ danielricciardo @ maxverstappen1 he’s being mean to me

→ maxverstappen1 please apologise or i’ll have to listen to him crying all week

YourUserName i love you so much 🩵 thank you for the most amazing weekend x

→ landonorris i love you the mostest 🥰

→ User7 guys, they’ve said the L word!!

lilymhe @ francisca.cgomes we’ve lost her

→ francisca.cgomes and to a vroom vroom boy, no less

→ lilymhe the horror

→ alex_albon @ pierregasly should we be offended?

→ pierregasly about losing our girlfriends or being called vroom vroom boys?

→ YourUserName my girlfriends

georgerussell63 i don’t think that last pic is pr approved

→ mclaren it’s not but we’re letting it slide because they're cute

YourUserName wait a second, did you scribble over the logo on my shoes

→ landonorris can’t be posting unsponsored brands, babe

oscarpiastri i don’t think i ever needed to know you like that

→ landonorris you’ve seen worse

→ oscarpiastri and heard! i keep asking zac to make sure we don’t have hotel rooms next to each other, and each time i’m let down

User9 okay but your OTP could never

User10 they really are the hottest couple

User11 i want them both to step on me

User12 lando norris, the man that you are

User13 he could run me over with his car and i would thank him

liked by YourUserName

882 notes · View notes

kentocee · 8 months ago

Note

Do you still accept JJK requests?

Jjk men and the classic 'there was only one bed in the hotel room' :D

Would be great if it isn't during a mission, I prefer the peaceful AU's but you do you, whatever you like ^^

JJK Men React to Sharing A Bed With You

• JJK Men x Fem!reader HCs • (18+)

Characters: Gojo, Nanami, Toji, Choso

CW: one bed trope!, implied sexual content, suggestive content

Cee’s Note: imma be honest….I purposely left out Geto 🫣 idk why but I was blanking with him. If y’all wanna see this trope with him y’all gotta send me ideas 😭. But anywho, I hope y’all enjoy ✌🏽

**Minors do NOT interact; explicit content ahead**

Gojo

He a little TOO chill about it

He will play it off like it’s no big deal to share the bed.

He’s already getting comfortable before you could even process what’s going on.

“Don’t worry, I’ll behave. Unless you don’t want me to” 😉

You’re starting to think he tipped off the receptionist for this room.

He will find ways to be close or cuddle with you

“It’s a little chilly in here. Don’t want you to catch a cold” 😏

While cuddling, he will leave kisses to your shoulders and neck

His hands will lower inch by inch down your body, as if he was testing the waters to see if you’d let him

You didn’t oppose to the touching and before you knew it his fingers were under your panties playing with your clit

Nanami

Oh he wants this BAD but he doesn’t want you to feel uncomfortable

This man will risk back pains to sleep on the floor if you asked him too

But little did he know, you were about to do the same for him

“It’s ok, you can take the bed and I’ll sleep on the floor”

“Absolutely NOT!”

After two minutes of you both refusing for the other to sleep on the ground, you both decided to share the bed

Nanami keeps to his side of the bed to be respectful but that didn’t last long as you practically buried your head against his broad chest

“You don’t mind?”

“Not at all, sweetheart. Comfortable?” 😉

You were comfortable alright. Even more once you were straddling his lap. 👀

Choso

You were more flustered about it than he was

He didn’t mind sharing a bed with you at all

In fact he wanted nothing more than to be as close as possible to you

If you are at the far side of the bed, he’ll frown at the gap

“You’re so far from me. C’mere” 🥺

His face was nuzzled in your neck and his arms wrapped around you from behind

With your back and bum pressed against his front, he couldn’t help the tent forming in his pants

You could feel his member pressing against your back and you may or may not have grinded your hips against him in response 🤭

Toji

So what had happened was…he could only afford the room with one bed 💀

But to him, a bed is a bed at the end of the day

Mans doesn’t care if there was one or two beds, as long as he gets some sleep

“Well aren’t you coming?”

He’s already bundling under the sheets before you could even answer

His big ass took up all the space leaving you only the edge of the bed

“To be honest, I’d prefer you on top than next to me” 😏

Despite his comment, you laid next to him and attempted to roll his body over for more space

He rolled in the opposite direction and instead rolled on top of you, with you directly under him

“This better, princess?”

Yes this was indeed better 🤭

474 notes · View notes

meowzfordayz · 2 years ago

Text

analysis (; — hashira men

Author’s Note: took this not-actually-a-prompt and got carried away heh... 😌

analysis (; — hashira men

Himejima Gyomei x Reader, Iguro Obanai x Reader, Rengoku Kyojuro x Reader, Shinazugawa Sanemi x Reader, Tomioka Giyuu x Reader

Word Count: ~2,200

CW: 18+NSFW, degrading language, explicit language, Fem!Reader, oral, spit, squirting

Thirst Fulfilled: I NEED someone to settle an argument between me and a friend-

Do you think sanemi has a big [redacted]-

Because I KNOW he is packing a huge one.

Ps I’m sorry but I don’t know who else to ask 😭

~faqs~

Update as of 12 May 2023: A foreword that these headcanons are first and foremost indulgent !! 😌 They are not intended to be realistic. They’re supposed to be fun. Hot. 🥵 Within the realm of possibility, but not ~normal. 😉

Dick so big it has him blushing 🤭

—I mean, c’mon: Look at him 😳

That being said, it’s also very pretty — not monstrous or scary (besides its size heh)

A nice, rounded head that oozes precum throughout foreplay, sensitive and rosy pink as you flick your tongue across it, thick and heavy balls tightening at the breathy moan in your throat

A delicate vein curves from its base to the underside of the tip, thankfully not too pronounced, bc it’ll stretch you out enough regardless

Speaking of stretch…

Your fingers can barely wrap around its girth — it’s much easier to drool and lap at the shaft than commit to anything close to deep throating (unless your jaw stamina’s through the roof 👀)

Doesn’t exactly groom himself, but that isn’t too much of an issue since it’s not like his pubic hair’s getting in your way too often (re: dick too huge to regularly deepthroat)

As for length, Gyomei’s in the ball park of ~reasonable (10 inches when erect), but it still requires a hell of a lot of prep before you’re fully seated on his cock, ass flush against his flexed thighs while large, sweaty hands grip your hips in a feeble attempt to restrain himself from immediately thrusting into your dimly throbbing cervix

“This okay?” he murmurs, thumbs pressing firmly into the softness of your skin, low groan caught in his chest at the suffocating heat of your pussy, your shaky, faintly pained breaths keeping his desire in check

“Take as much time as you need,” as you use his stomach to steady yourself, muscles rippling beneath your palms

“You feel wonderful,” whispered gently—patient as ever—even as he longs to raise your trembling body up and almost off of his cock, only to fuck the air out of your lungs w/ a single, smooth drop of your wanton weight, unsuspecting wail music to his ears as you convulse in orgasm at the overwhelming pressure of his cock stuffing your puffy walls

Obanai’s closer to average, but he isn’t small (at least, his dick isn’t 😆 #short king)

Def a grower, slim, veiny shaft elongating (to ~6 inches) as you stroke him w/ a practiced flick of your wrist

Not exactly related to his dick, but he also def growls during foreplay, needy and eager to melt into you and to ruin you — just depends on his mood, yanno?

His head is the kind of head that you almost wanna chomp 🤗, all squishy, bulbous, and fat, quickly reddening and weeping precum, making a mess of your fingers

Perfect lubrication for touching yourself while sucking him off, gleam in his eyes at how filthy you are

Typically can’t be bothered to trim his pubic hair, but it doesn’t get especially long anyway — more so coarse and curly

His shaft doesn’t stretch you out significantly, sliding easily into your slick heat, hovering above you as his hands keep your legs parted widely, “You like being splayed out for me, hm?” pinching lightly at your inner thigh, grinning smugly as you whimper contently, “My precious plaything.”

But it (his shaft) does have a wicked, upward curve, tip grinding firm and repetitive against the spongy bundle of nerves deep in your pussy

And its veins 🤤

What he lacks in girth, he makes up for in texture

Plus, Obanai 11/10 fucks aggressive and erratic, pubic bone flush to your clit, friction delicious and constant as he thrusts full force into your hole, sweat dripping from his brow onto your clavicle, his eyes narrowed in lust and passion, balls slapping sticky against your asshole, less concerned about hurting you since he’s aware that he isn’t ~the biggest guy on the block

Altho, if he’s tired, then he lowkey enjoys you on top, edging him w/ every slow and steady undulation of your hips, your tits pressed warm and hot to his chest as he clings to you and the squelch of your cunt

For whatever reason, my immediate thought was: Raging! Hard! On! 😂😍

Kyojuro’s absolutely packing, but still decently proportionate to his stature (177cm aka 5’10”)

—Bc, contrary to porn-pular belief, comically large dicks hurt 😒💀

8 inches erect, and a sizeable bulge when flaccid

—Never thought I’d use this term, bc (imo) it’s hot when I’m horny, but 🥴 when I’m ~sober 😆…

BREEDER BALLS

As much as Kyojuro loves worshiping your pussy, he might love when you worship his balls more 🤭

You kissing, sucking, licking his balls while he jerks himself off = 100% orgasm guarantee

Drooling on his shiny, reddening tip, your spit trickling down between his fingers, making a mess of your lips as you return to fondling his balls w/ your mouth?

110% orgasm guarantee

Prefers cumming on your tits, btw — will stave off his orgasm until you can get ~in position ☺️

Nothing like an even messier round two 😎

Bc, ofc, he is more than happy to reciprocate the pleasure 💞

W/ enough girth to warrant a gradual sinking (vs an abrupt thrust to the hilt), his shaft fills you breathless, its last couple of inches just barely fitting into your heat

“Can’t believe you’re already hard again,” you giggle delightedly, eyes hazy as he smears his cum across your nipple, throbbing head pressing deeper into your pussy, “You’re insatiable, I swear.”

A heady groan is his only response, gaze bright and attentive as always, reaching for your hand, dipping your thumb into his cum splatter, tasting himself on your skin as he maintains eye contact

“Fuck,” you gasp, pussy clenching at his nonchalance, tongue swiping subconsciously along your bottom lip

“Taste?” he offers, enthusiastic tone muted by the determined pressure of him lapping at your other nipple, his cum bitter and warm as he kisses you sloppy and needy, grip gentle on your jaw as he inhales your scent

And then you whisper Umai!

One word: brutal 😵‍💫

Not bc he’s ridiculously hung (i.e. Gyomei), but bc he’s ridiculously good (at using his dick)

—I actually headcanon Sanemi being a ~bashful virgin (sex can be intimate, and intimacy can be scary, but he loves you, so if that means being soft and scared w/ you… then he’s willing to go there 🥺🤍), buuut once he’s comfortable/well practiced?

—😈😈😈

Not much of a show-er when flaccid (and absolutely, positively shriveled when cold 😂), but an ideal 7 inches when erect w/ girth in between Gyomei and Kyojuro (slimmer than Gyo, thicker than Kyo)

His tip seems to get ~angrier the longer you tease him, going from an almost cute pink to an engorged, lustful red — def the hardest part about fitting him in your pussy, breath catching every time he finally slips into your dripping hole

Which, he has to get you dripping before attempting to penetrate, or at least use lube, bc rushed sex + his dick = not super enjoyable

Alternatively, he’ll facefuck you to get his dick wet enough for your pussy, 7 inches manageable, albeit veering on unpleasant, your nails digging into his flexed ass as he shoves himself languid and satisfied into your mouth, head twitching and leaking precum down the back of your throat whenever you gag on his length

“Watch your teeth,” he grunts lowly, tugging warningly at your hair, swallowing a moan as his cock muffles your whimper, eyes watering at his roughness, “Don’t make me gag and choke you,” calloused fingers brushing soothingly—promisingly—at your neck

In terms of pubic hair, he keeps it neatly trimmed, but not clean shaven: he likes hearing—seeing—the filthy mess of your saliva, tears, and precum as he fucks up and into your pussy

“Is this fast enough for you?” he snarls, your body balanced precariously atop his pelvis, grip nearly bruising on your hips as he smirks knowingly, “Obviously not,” pace frenzied as you moan raggedly, “If you’re still moaning like a whore, then it isn’t fast enough.”

Feet shifting beneath him in search of a different angle, grin triumphant and deadly as you shout silently, head tilted backward, tits bouncing in mesmerizing sync w/ his thrusts

“There we go,” he murmurs, balls tightening at your fucked out expression, “There’s my perfect cunt, squeezing all pathetic and hopeless around my cock,” stamina never ending, pussydrunk on the feeling of you, “Can’t wait for you to cum on my cock, gonna make this cunt so fucking sloppy.”

The prettiest dick 😭

—Ik I mentioned Gyomei’s dick being pretty too, but Giyuu takes pretty to another lvl 🥺

Aka Giyuu has the Goldilocks Cock™ 💀

Just shy of 7 inches, w/ thin veins that curl neat and yummy around his shaft — which, btw, is thick enough to have you pushing on his shoulders Slowly, p-please as the tip catches on your entrance, his eyes hooded and glassy as he ignores you in favor of thrusting in further Sorry not sorry at all You feel so g-good

A faint shudder trembles down his spine, pooling in his groin, traveling along his girth, head twitching in the viscous grip of your heat

Maintains a tidy patch of pubic hair, delicate happy trail tantalizing and subtle whenever he stretches 🥱

As for his balls… once again: Goldilocks Balls™ 🤤

Optimally sized for sucking into your mouth, hanging beautifully even, downy hairs tickling your nose as he cups the back of your head, quiet groans spilling from his cherry bitten lips as you glance toward his fluttering lashes, your vision obscured by the muscle of his tensed inner thigh

Giyuu’s fave position?

—for these headcanons, at least 😆

Cowgirl 🤠 #yee #haw

Your pussy clings to his shaft like a greedy vice, creamy essence smearing from your swollen folds to his lower abdomen, tits presented as you arch backward, using his legs to steady yourself as you fuck yourself on his (perfect) cock

“Touch yourself,” he demands softly, spreading your asscheeks w/ surprisingly cool hands, easily supporting your weight, eyes closing at the satisfying smack of your skin bouncing against his

“Touch yourself till you cum,” his biceps hardly straining as you chase your orgasm, rhythm smooth and delectable, “I want to feel you fall apart,” murmured slick and gentle, in stark contrast to the lewd squish of his balls tapping your asshole

“C’mon sweetheart, fall apart for me, so gorgeous on my cock, love feeling you gush all over me.”

—I pondered long and hard about Tengen’s dick (both puns intended 🤗)

—Lemme organize my thoughts for a sec…

—Girth (from wide to slim): Gyomei, Tengen, Sanemi, Kyojuro, Giyuu, Obanai

—Length (from long to ~short): Gyomei, Tengen, Kyojuro, Sanemi, Giyuu, Obanai

In other words, as the second tallest, Tengen also happens to be the second biggest 🙃

—I initially considered putting him behind Kyo in terms of length, but 198cm aka 6’6” vs 177cm aka 5’10”... the math just wouldn’t have mathed 😆

Erect, Tengen measures a solid 9 inches, and if Obanai’s dick is veiny, then Tengen’s dick = veins GALORE 😵

“Even my dick is flashy! 😎” “It has ✨decor✨!”

His shaft bends slightly downward (blame gravity — his dick’s so fucking heavy 😌), so certain positions can be a bit tricky, but damn if he doesn’t rearrange your insides 🤪

Def enjoys being the center of attention, fucking slow and confident into your stretched out hole, dirty talk muffled by Makio’s thighs as he maintains a steady rhythm licking her folds, Hina’s index finger slim and practiced as she stimulates your clit, Suma’s tongue gliding wet and hot against Tengen’s taint

“What was that?” Makio coos, eyes twinkling as she grinds firmly onto Tengen’s mouth, “We can’t understand you dear,” squealing when he smacks her tits, “You seem a bit preoccupied, try speaking up.”

“S-shit,” you gasp, gripping Hina’s hand, pressure building as Tengen thrusts sharply into you, “D-don’t encourage him Makio,” whining as Hina latches onto your nipple, sucking lightly

“Why not?” Makio giggles, ass wiggling playfully, “Can’t take it?” knowing all too well that, ultimately, your pussy’s paying the price for her teasing

“Hm, you’re so messy babe,” Suma sighs contently, pausing her ministrations to kiss Tengen’s thigh, lips shiny w/ spit and your essence, “Seems like you want Makio to encourage him.”

Hina nods in agreement, eyes narrowed devilishly, twisting your other nipple, “Her clit’s throbbing,” spoken w/ unbearable casualness, “I think she’s going to cum.”

“Are you going to cum?” Tengen asks conversationally, finally taking a breath from Makio’s pussy, engorged tip twitching in your cunt, “I’ve hardly ruined you, and you’re already spasming on my cock.”

“T-tengen,” you whimper, clenching at his taunting tone, falling forward, cheek smooshed into Makio’s back, “So fucking d-deep,” stuttering as the new angle forces his fat head flush to the entrance of your cervix

“Think we can get her to squirt?” Tengen hums smugly, a hypothetical question, really, as you begin convulsing, pussy gushing messily onto his stomach, Hina’s hand glistening, ignoring your meek mewls of T-too much! as she continues rubbing your clit, Suma lapping at your cum as it coats Tengen’s balls, trickling between his asscheeks

#hashira x reader #headcanons #modern au #demon slayer smut #kimetsu no yaiba #demon slayer #himejima gyomei #gyomei x reader #iguro obanai #obanai x reader #rengoku kyojuro #kyojuro x reader #shinazugawa sanemi #sanemi x reader #tomioka giyuu #giyuu x reader #uzui tengen #tengen x reader

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kaybreezy3000 · 2 months ago

Text

Inside of You ~A Five Hargreeves / Female reader insert request

(5714 words) Rated Mature for sexually explicit content.

While joining Five for family night at his brother's house, he gives you an unexpected treat to add to the fun, ending the night by leaving you feeling more loved than you ever thought was possible.

Warnings and more summary: Five and Reader are adults, Smutty smut, Cock warming, Dom Five, cocky Five and sweet vulnerable Five, s4 setting-assuming that all that sort of went down only with a twist in brief mention that Five in the end saved the day (because he's the man of course and I can't do it any other way), also Lila and Five never got stuck in the subway-so no worries on triggers for that-pretending that didn't happen, this one's all about you and Five 😉

2 days ago, Anonymous asked:

Hi! Thank you, that other fic was amazing! Can I request maybe a dom five smut where he's really cocky at how quickly he can make the reader cum, maybe with overstimulation and cock warming? Thank you!

Answer: Sure, here you go. 😊😉 TY for the kind words.

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

Inside of You

“Mommy!!! Daddy! we can’t sleep!”

“Me either!” Grace yelled.

“Bloody hell.” Looking tired, Lila glared at Diego. After finally agreeing on a movie to watch, it had only been quiet for about thirty minutes into the film, and this was the third time a little voice had called out, needing something.

“I’ll take Grace this time, if you take the twins,” Diego grumbled, already getting up. Stomping down the hall towards the kid’s bedrooms like a dad sized Godzilla, he turned back, looking at Five as he said, “I know you two kids are getting serious, or you never would have subjected her to one of our family nights, so I’m going to give you a little piece of advice. Unless you want to be interrupted every five minutes for the rest of your life, put a rubber on it.”

Casually swirling his drink between his legs as he sat there across from you on their couch, Five’s usual mask indifference was the only reply Diego got, but as soon as they were gone, he turned his attention to you, a playful smirk making him look so handsome but also so characteristically smug and dick-ish.

He knew that he didn’t need to wear a rubber with you, but he’d also made it abundantly clear that he wasn’t opposed to somewhere down the road performing the act of breeding with you with the intent of starting a family, not just to get you screaming his name.

All night long, Five had been looking at you like he was up to something, and knowing he was probably up to no good, you decided to stay in your chair on the other side of the room.

He quirked a dark brow at you, and his dimple deepened. Leaning back, his thighs spreading wide, undeterred, Five padded his lap. “Join me?”

A rush of wetness leaked between your legs from just looking at him over there, dressed in his slim-fitted dress shirt with his long silk tie dangling down between his legs.

You knew about the Hargreeves family and their powers and how they’d saved the world multiple times. Everyone knew about them after they averted The Cleanse, but even so, you swore Five’s real power was not in his ability to blink, or time travel, or in how he and a deli full of other versions of him had figured out how to destroy new elemental forces that were set to bring on the end of the world. His gift wasn’t even in his ability to have a cocky answer to everything.

No. All that was true, but Five’s real power was in how easily he could take away your ability to think of anything other than pleasing him, all with nothing but one of his mischievous smiles.

As if drawn to him by a magical force, you stood up, coming his way as you anxiously ran your hands down the front of your skirt to press out the invisible wrinkles.

As soon as you were within arm’s reach, Five reeled you in fast, knocking you off balance, making you land on top of his thighs, straddling him, face to face. The second you were touching him, he nuzzled his face into your neck, inhaling deeply.

“I love when you wear these girly little skirts, and the way you smell,” he whispered as you delighted in the sensation of his lips pressing against your skin, and your bare thighs resting against the softness of his wool dress pants.

Springs, squeaking from two very naughty twins jumping on their beds down the hall, accompanied by the sound of glass smashing, and Diego and Lila simultaneously swearing, your head swung that way.

“Sounds like they might be busy awhile,” Five chuckled as he continued placing slow kisses in a carefully charted line along your throat.

Unable to help yourself, you tilted your head to the side, giving him more skin to work with as your hands ran up his arms, your fingers digging into his shoulders, shaking him a little. Your mouth dropped open. “We really shouldn’t- “

“Shooooosh.” Five laughed, cutting you off as his hand slid up your thigh, moving under your skirt. When his mouth reached your collar bone, he started sucking, making the blood rise to the surface of your skin.

Forgetting any argument you had about why this wasn’t a good idea, a soft moan fell from your lips. The feel of Five’s semi hard cock under you had you craving more friction between your legs, so you began to rock your body against him. The movement got Five growling so cutely in response, but it was the painful points of his teeth biting into you where your neck met your shoulder that made your entire body go completely still.

His firm hand moved further up your leg, blazing a predatory trail of warning along the creamy span of your flesh. Then one of his fingers glided along your underwear, playing along the slightly damped slit splitting the mounds of your arousal.

“So wet for me already, sweetheart. You are too easy,” he mocked, his lips spreading in a wicked smile against your neck.

With that shit, you no longer cared that Five’s brother’s family, all seven of them when you included Lila’s parents, were on the other side of the house. All you could think about was that unbelievably sexy jerk who was laughing at you for wanting to jump his bones.

Five wasn’t wrong. You never could get enough of him. You’d been dating for months, but almost as soon as you’d taken your flirtations past antagonizing each other daily while in passing, and into the more physical joys of getting to know each other, as soon as his hands were on you, a desperation like you’d never experienced before felt like it was going to consume you if you didn’t have him.

“Please, Five,” you moaned.

Giving in, Five’s fingers shifted the thin swath of material covering you to the side, so he could slide his finger up and down your soaking folds. Your breaths soon turned to pants as his thumb found your clit, circling the spot over and over.

Your forehead limply fell to Five’s shoulder. His erection was so hard underneath you, and as pathetic as it was, you were about to beg for him to take you, right there, hard and fast, on someone else’s couch, when you could be walked in on at any second.

To your relief, he seemed to be thinking what you were thinking because his thumb moved away, and just as fast, he was gripping your embarrassingly wet underwear.

“These need to go,” he gently whispered in your ear, just as he tore the small piece of lace from your body.

Your startled yelp was quickly followed by the sound of Five unzipping his trousers and your shocked state was made no better when his cock sprang free.

Knowing Five could blink you both out of there if you couldn’t finish fast enough, you eagerly attempted to rise to mount him, but he stopped you, gripping your hips, so he could forcefully turn you, so you were sitting on his lap, facing away from him. Your sudden change in position momentarily threw you off balance, but as soon as his hands gripped the outside of your thighs and his lips found your neck again, it grounded you to him.

The tips of Five’s fingers dug into your backside, his palms against your thighs as he urged your hips to move. He’d purposefully wedged his cock between your legs from underneath, and the sight of it being long enough to protrude out from between your thighs, making a little tent in the fan of your skirt, had you cursing under your breath.

Reaching around, Five flipped his hand under the frill of your skirt, and started in again, pleasuring you, only this time by pressing the warm tip of his cock against your clit.

From there, you fell into a smooth rhythm, of you doing the moving, and him letting you use him to get off.

You knew this couldn’t go on. You could hear your hosts tell their kids that this was it; we aren’t coming back in here even if Godzilla comes out of your closet!

You were dying to get Five as excited as you, to suck his dick, to have him fuck you properly, anything to have him inside you, but to your dismay, he didn’t seem to want that.

With what he’d been through with being trapped and alone, and being used and abused, over and over, normally all it took was the go ahead from you, and that chocolate haired menace would be slamming his dick inside you, grinning ear to ear, looking every bit the horny young man he was, while also proving he was the old deprived soul he claimed to be.

Five was always a paradox of extremes, but when he was with you in bed, he was like a man possessed, hell bent on making up for lost time. That was what you were used to. Not this…this poorly timed patience.

As soon as you started shifting your body up and down with any real spunk, Five’s hands flew to your hips, forcing you to slow your grinding.

“And they say I’m the one who has no impulse control,” he breathed in your ear, which earned him a frustrated groan. His chuckled laugh rumbled along your back, but again, he gave in, seemingly listening to your silent plea.

Removing his hand between your legs, Five readjusted your position, leaning back into the couch. He gripped your hips and lifted you, so you were hovering over him. After lining you up to his length, he slowly guided your body down.

He let out the sexiest sounding hiss of satisfaction as his slicked length impaled you.

You mewed and thrashed as the thick head of his cock came to a stop when your ass pressed back down in his lap. You couldn’t stay still. “Holy ff-ah-ck, Five!” you quietly stuttered as you moved up a little, only to fall back down when your legs went weak, causing the fullness of his cock to overwhelm you all over again.

Adjusting himself so the angle of his dick wasn’t quite as jarring had you both panting breaths of relief, but your quiet exclamations were still coming out much more panicked sounding than his.

Again, when you tried to move, Five wouldn’t let you, going so far as to wrap his arms around your waist, causing you to have to lean back against him, fully flush.

“Don’t move,” he warned.

You felt helpless, like you were nothing more than an object put there for Five to use as he pleased, and as messed up as that was, that idea and reality of it happening was making you so aroused it hurt.

At the new sounds of Diego and Lila talking in the kitchen, only a room away, and the popping of popcorn, you were so wound up, just waiting for Five to take you over the edge, and end this, that your body started to tremble. You started rolling your hips, but Five’s hands gripped you tighter, insistently keeping you still.

“We tired the little beasts out this time! We’ll be right out,” Diego’s annoyed voice floated from the kitchen.

To that, you tried to get up, but Five held you tight with one arm, the other reaching for the throw blanket hanging over the back of the couch, covering you both like he planned on staying right there, and he confirmed as much when he said, “I think it’s time I give you a lesson in delayed gratification.”

When he shifted to better kiss your cheek, his cock buried snugly, ended up shifting too, and that didn’t help delay anything you were feeling. You let out a little whine from that reminder of how good it felt having Five moving inside you.

Five adjusted your thighs, spreading you wide, and getting even more aggravated, and knowing he wasn’t going to let up on this, you rapidly started bouncing up and down, your breathy moans of exertion bitten back by your teeth studding into your lower lip.

Behind you, Five’s body tensed each time you tried to fuck yourself down on his cock. Thinking you could get him to see the light, you reached back, running your fingers through his hair in way that usually made him turn into a mindless puddle of goo, but to that, he only started in again, peppering kisses to the nap of your neck, like he didn’t have a care in the world.

Letting you do all the work, only not very successfully with the way he had you detained, he moved his hold to your breasts, groping them through your shirt.

“What are you doing!” you huffed at him as you wriggled. He was still refusing to thrust himself up into you, even though you were wildly kicking your heels into his shins like he was a racehorse you were trying to get moving for the win at the finish line.

“I’m enjoying you to the fullest, but I promise I’ll make it worth it if you’re a good girl and you warm my cock until I say you can please me differently,” he calmly explained while dragging the tip of his nose along your hairline.

The feeling of his fingers skimming under your skirt left you burning up in confusion as your skin tickled with the prickle of goosebumps. You could feel the coil inside of you tightening with every second that this denial went on.

Five always felt so fucking amazing, and the things he did to you were, just wow…but holy hell! All he needed to do was…

“Fuck me, Five! Please!” you begged, but he didn’t move, and not being allowed to do more than torment yourself, you defeatedly stopped fighting and flopped back against him.

Of course, that was when he started rocking his hips needily, pounding up into you, doing it hard enough to make the legs of the couch cry out in protest.

Your body strained as waves of arousal washed through you, making it feel like the temperature in the room had just increased by a zillion degrees. Your muscles squeezed around his shaft, trying to make him cum, so you could at least get the satisfaction of milking him dry before they came back.

Not having it, stopping completely, Five said your name in a very strained voice, followed by a hot puff of air blowing past your ear. “I told you to behave, and be my pretty little cockwarmer, and now look what you made me do, you willful little brat.” Five grunted so annoyingly adorably as he proceeded to rock shallow thrusts of his cock into you while you squirmed in his lap.

You were so turned on now as he attempted to punish you in your favorite way, your cries of pleasure rose with each tug and push of his dick. “Daddy, I am sorry. I need it! I need you,” you whimpered.

You gasped as the heels of Five’s shiny black shoes dug into the floor and his dick bottomed out, making it feel like he’d just stabbed you in the stomach.

Pushing his hands into your abdomen, feeling his own cock inside you, tearing you apart, Five’s hips stilled again, making you take it. You felt a pulse of excitement quiver up his length as aching pain filled you, and the breath you’d been holding came out in a flood of fucks.

Five opened his mouth, his warm breath hitting your ear as he started to say something, but he was interrupted by the loud beep of the microwave, and Lila talking about him. “That demented little pervert better not be trying to screw that poor girl on our couch.”

That snapped you out of your daze and both your backs stiffened. The smell of buttery popcorn wafted your way as Diego’s shadow began moving down the hall in your direction.

Your face felt like it was on fire as you moved to get off Five before they caught you, but to your horror, his fingers tightened on your rib cage, digging in so hard that you couldn’t help it when you started laughing uncontrollably.

“Stay put,” he ordered as he attacked you.

You whipped your head around, your eyes wild. “Are you crazy?”

“Yes,” he said, totally straight faced, then he gingerly kissed your shoulder, and removed his hands from under your clothes, just as Diego came around the corner with Lila right behind him.

It was impossible to ignore that Five’s length was still rock hard inside of you. You were frozen like a deer trapped in the headlights, but that asshole just sat there and nonchalantly plucked at the cuff of his shirt sleeve, glancing at his watch, like he was irritated they had taken so long.

You were torn between getting up and putting as much distance between you and him as possible, or proving that he wasn’t the only bat shit crazy one, by staying there to finish what he’d started and making it to where you both were never asked to come over for family night again.

“Sorry. Like I said, kids are-” Diego started, then he paused, eying the blanket wrapped around your laps. He raised his eyebrows to the ceiling. “Well, well, well… You guys look cozy.”

Smiling innocently, Five pulled the blanket around you a little, making it cover a little more of your legs, but it still wasn’t long enough to hide that you were basically sitting not just between his legs, but on his lap.

Giving Five the stink eye, Lila smiled just as fake as him, then sat down in her recliner. “Here,” she said, reaching back, offering you the larger afghan in her hand.

She was way too far away for you to reach it, and not at all thinking, you started to rise, but at the feel of Five’s cock slipping out of you, you quickly sat back down. Your eyes felt like they may have rolled back in your head, and your neck turned a million shades pinker from the feel of it. Also paying for that mistake, you heard and felt Five let out a sharp intake of breath.

“What’s the problem?” Lila asked, scowling at him.

“Just throw it over,” Five angrily grumbled at her, and your stomach quivered from the deep tenor of his voice, and your walls reactively clenched around him, trying to prolong the feeling.

Clearly aware something was up, coming over, taking the blanket, before either you, or Five, did something stupid, Diego kindly handed you the blanket and then Five the bowl of popcorn he’d bought for you to share.

“You think you two kids can be good and watch the rest of this movie?” Diego questioned, “Or do you want to call it a night?”

“We’re good. Start it back up,” Five cooly replied, and again, just the feel of his body inside yours as he spoke was making it hard for you to resist moving your hips. How he could act so relaxed was beyond you. You felt like you were going to burst at the seams, and when he leaned forward to set the bowl on the coffee table you almost came right then and there.

What the hell was he doing!!!!!!!

As the TV screen came to life, there was no way your mind could go back to the romantic comedy that was playing, not with Five moving himself, and you down, laying so your heads were resting on one of the end pillows. His warm, heavy cock slipped in and out from the motion, giving you the slightest friction from the adjustment, but just as fast, with one deliberate thrust, burying himself full deep again, he had you. “Oh! Shoooo.....ooot,” you accidentally cried out, quickly acting like you had your hair tangled under him in a way that hurt.

Pretending like he was unaware of what he'd done, Five kicked his shoes off, and his feet joined yours at the other end of the couch.

“Isn’t this nice?” he whispered in your ear, and again, Lila glanced your way, but this time, you swore you saw her trying to hold in a smile.

You didn’t know what to say, so you said nothing. The joy in Five’s voice proved he was thrilled, and that he knew just what he was doing to you, which was driving you insane.

Laying there, mostly hidden under the blankets, Five moved his arm that was draped over your body, his fingers soothingly moving along your side, then your stomach, up and down, over and over.

It felt amazing. This was so sneaky and dirty, but still, you’d never felt anything even remotely like this. All you think about was him. All you could feel was him.

As Five slowly caressed your body, every so often your hips would reactively start moving. You pushed your butt against him, trying to increase the sensation, and just that tiniest movement would make you want to cry because it felt so good.

Planting his feet on the arm rest, doing you even more dirty, Five slowly began to work his hips, fucking his cock into you, so shallow and so agonizing slow. Letting go, you shut your eyes, your pinched breaths falling into cadence with his.

Creeping his hand between your legs, Five was greeted with the fresh wash of wetness of his making. “I could hold you like this forever,” he whispered with his lips brushing the shell of your ear.

His loving words and the feeling of what he was doing made it feel like you were being lit on fire. You were sure that you were glowing with Five’s ethereal aura of blue light, and he was about to blink you out of there, but that didn’t happen.

Instead, gripping your hips to prevent you from grinding back against him, he stopped rutting himself against you.

“Perfect little cockwarmer,” he breathed, so quietly, only you could hear it.

As he worked a single finger, back and forth across your clit, the only sign something was going on over on the couch was the soft, wet sound of movement, but it was too quiet for Diego or Lila to hear it. That was until Five hooked his finger, dragging it up and down even faster. Holding the blanket away from you, so they couldn’t see the quick thrusts of his wrist, the quietest whimper crept from your lips.

Diego looked your way for a second, but Five had already stopped moving his hand, so his brother looked away again, and turned up the volume on the TV. When Five pulled his hand back out from under the blankets, your shamefully slicked thighs helplessly clamped together in protest, then he brought his finger to your mouth, pulling at your bottom lip.

“Open,” he quietly demanded, peering down at you with a glint of fondness in his darkened eyes.

Not wanting him to draw more attention to the fact that you weren’t just sprawled out, spooning on their couch like you appeared to be, you did as he asked, and Five slid himself inside your mouth, the weight of his finger firmly pressing down on your tongue.

“Suck,” he breathed.

Obeying him again, your lips closed, and you were met with the taste of your own lust.

Debasing you as he discretely fucked your mouth with his pussy-soaked finger, Five’s cock twitched with excitement. He was so hard, that he was throbbing. You knew that he had to be out of his mind by then, but then just like that, he pulled his hand away from your mouth and he reached for the bowl of popcorn, instead.

You were going to die.

Yup. This was it. You were dead. Klaus was going to end up being your only company.

On purpose or not, you weren’t sure, bringing a handful back, Five dropped a piece of the puffed corn, and it fell on the couch cushion right next to your face. Going all in with Five in this madness, you shuffled our hand out from under the blankets and popped it in your mouth, chewing angrily.

“I hate you,” you murmured, and Five kissed your temple in reply, then he continued to crunch on his salty treat.

At this point, it had been over a half hour with his cock inside you, stretching your walls, but hardly moving. You were so beside yourself, and you weren’t sure which you wanted to do more, kiss him silly, or slap him sillier. Both seemed like viable options, and knowing Five, he’d enjoy it way too much one way or another.

By the time the movie ended, Five had been quiet for the last thirty minutes, and so had you. You could feel his breathing, deep and slow, as if he was sleeping. When you’d looked back at him, even before the credits had rolled, his eyes were closed, his thick lashes laying in stark contrast to his flawlessly pale cheeks.

He was so beautiful.

Wanting to be with him, even in sleep, you closed your eyes too.

“Should I wake him up so he can get her home?” Diego whispered a few minutes later.

Lila’s reply was just as quiet. “No. Let him have this. I don’t think I’ve ever seen that evil little ghoul look so peaceful.”

The sounds of Diego and Lila turning the movie off, and the click of the lights going out, were followed by their feet, treading down the hall towards their bedroom.

You were sure that at some point during all that, you’d feel Five’s dick softening, but you hadn’t. You were also sure that he was out, sleeping just like they thought he was. Then, suddenly, the floor felt like it was dropping out from under you. You were floating through space, crashing through time and space, then thrown back into reality, met with the chill of cold blankets under your back.

Clinging to Five, even though his weight was holding you down, head spinning in a way that wasn't enough to make you sick, but was still plenty alarming, you shivered from head to toe.

Looking around, you realized you were back in Five’s apartment.

“Don’t worry, that feeling will go away in a minute,” he apologized. “You did so good, sweetheart. Now it’s time for your reward.” He pulled out of you, leaving your body bucking, and your cunt spasming from the loss of him filling your hole.

One second, illuminated by nothing other than the dim light filtering in through his bedroom blinds, Five was kneeling between your legs, tearing off his shirt, throwing his tie off in the darkness, and the next, you were blinded by a flash of light and he was back, totally naked, having ditched his pants and socks.

Bearing down on you with his dick bobbing against you, Five frantically worked your shirt up over your head. Once exposed, his lips came crashing down against yours.

“Five, please,” you whimpered as his tongue pushed inside your mouth. You couldn’t take it anymore.

Moving his kisses down your neck, then to your chest, giving your nipples each a few hot licks, Five braced himself on his forearms, then mounted your clit with his mouth, violently and relentlessly sucking you off.

The sloppy sound of him eating you out, and the heat of his breathy growls against your clit, sent jolts of electricity through you. Gripping his messy hair, you forced his face down harder, and Five took it like you knew he would, lapping at you, his tongue and teeth and his whole face fucking you delirious.

He was so fucking good at this, and you were so swollen from hours of him toying with you that all it took was less than a minute and your thighs were quivering around his youthfully smooth cheeks.

“Yes, Five, yeeeesssss!” you wailed as you came, seeing stars as your body writhed and twisted in his sheets and your walls tightened over and over, getting nothing but the empty ghost of him that had been there before. “Five…” you cried, tears streaming from your eyes as you looked down at the dark-haired boy who was giving you a misty-eyed look of his own that was so loving and broken it only made you want him more than you already did.

Barely a moment passed, and you were flipped over, blinked around in the other direction, and Five was entering you, fucking you with a messy pace, so hard and angrily as he slapped your ass, over and over, not hard, but hard enough. “That’s it, baby,” he growled in your ear as he draped himself over your back, using your arm to pull you up from the mattress. “You’re warming daddy’s cock so well.”

At that point, you could only repeat the words please and fuck like a broken record playing a background song of a porno. When Five finally let you drop back down to the mattress and his tightened balls started slapping into your body even harder from the momentum of him fucking you, your hands immediately balled into fists, your knuckles turning white from how hard you were clinging to the bedsheets.

“Your pussy is so fucking tight,” he praised, “Daddy is going to fill you like the perfect little cock warmer you are.”

Again, you were thrown into space, your entire body feeling like it was being ripped apart, then slammed back together in a blast of blinding light that left tingles zipping up and down your spine and your eyes darting around, trying to understand what had happened.

Slamming you back down on his mattress as you both landed, falling from his portal, but with your body flipped the other way again, Five moved his hand under your thighs, pulling you to him. Once positioned, he gripped himself, giving his entire length a few long strokes.

“All I have ever wanted was this,” he whispered as he slid inside you, letting out a hissed, fuck as his jaw dropped open.

You could feel nothing but every slow thrust of him pushing deep inside you. You could hear nothing but the sound of your heart beating in your ears and the contented moans coming from his gently parted lips.

Rocking his hips harder and faster, Five jerked his head back, trying to whip his hair from his eyes. Looking utterly shattered, completely focused on you, his eyes narrowed with a darkness that you feared would always haunt him, but you weren’t scared of it, or him.

Lifting you from the bed, thwacking his body into yours, he let the bulbous tip of his cock fuck into you just right, before he’d fuck you balls deep again, making you cry out his name even louder.

With the pattern he’d was laying into you, your second orgasm hit you fast and hard, turning your entire body into a warm pool of nothing, and Five followed you right after, his breathy groans and grunts sweet and innocent as he started to fill you.

You purred into his pillow as you felt the hot trickle of his fresh cum running out of you as he moved his hips, shifting back and forth, trying to coax more out of his orgasm and yours by not stopping even though he was spent.

This was your favorite part about sex with Five, him never giving in, of him falling down on you after you fucked, his breathy declarations of love softly caressing your senses as he kissed you sloppily, any where his lips could reach as he rut out his high.

Once the room was no longer filled with the sounds of you both blissfully losing yourself in the other, and the wet slow slap of skin-on-skin came to a stop. Five could no longer pump his softening cock inside you, but still, proudly knowing that he’d drawn out this moment he’d created to the absolute fullest, he finally pulled out, admiring his hot seed as it drizzled out of you until he reached for his shirt, carefully and gently whipping you down.

Reaching for him, Five was silent as he lay himself behind you with his sweat covered chest pressed to your back.

There was no need for words to say what doing this with you meant to him. You knew.

Five may seem all self-assured most of the time, but somewhere inside him there would always be that lost boy who desperately craved the warm feeling of human touch and the feeling of what it meant to be loved that he’d been denied for so long. Your heart felt so full. Out of everyone it could have been, he’d chosen you to finally have this with.

There was no one else like Five Hargreeves, and he was yours, and you were his, and you kissed the top of the hand that he had clinging to yours, for good measure, just in case he needed more proof of your devotion.

The quiet of the room remained, and you were lost in sleepy thoughts of happy things when suddenly your eyes popped open.

“Five? Where are my underwear?”

His adorable titter of boyish laughter shook you, then the cool feeling of his comforter fell over your bodies, and he threw a leg over yours, ensuring you couldn’t get away.

“Nothing says I am the dirty old pervert Lila said I was than the sight of your torn up panties laying on their couch in the morning. I just thought while I was taking full ownership of your heart, and your sweet pussy with my magical dick, I’d own up to that title too.”

“Five!”

Still chuckling, he snuggled himself into you, his smile plastered to the back of your neck as he breathed you in.

Within minutes of you stroking your hand along his arm that was still holding you tight, Five’s body relaxed into your touch.

He did own your heart and he knew it.

With your eyes drooping, and a soft sigh, you both slipped away-together, warm, and safe and loved.

~~~~~Repost an hour after original post because it wasn't showing up in any of the tags. 😉 Hope you find it anon.

Thanks again anon for reading my stuff and the kind words of support. Let me know if I did okay. ❤️

Link to my tag and my other Tumblr story and art posts

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ghostboneswrites2 · 10 months ago

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hiii! I just wanted to say I absolutely love your fics, you write Daryl so accurate and well 😊 beautiful reads all throughout your page!!

I was wondering if you could write something where daryl comes to like the reader eventually (fem!reader), and she’s shy, keeps her distance, and only is spoke when spoken to, a little like Daryl himself! he then goes to her home to ask her about what stock is needed for foods or something idk haha (Alexandria era) and sees her masturbating through the window, calling out his name, obviously he had no idea she even liked him as she keeps herself to herself. so he joins her, and guides her through it 😉

I hope this is okay to work with if you wanted to use it! Have a great day 🤎🙏🏽

A spider fell on me while I was writing this :') and thank you so much for your compliments they mean the world!!!

Note: OOOOOO SPICYYYYYY

Don't Stutter

18+ MDNI || Warnings: profanity, graphic depictions of masturbation and smut, fingering

No summary needed, request says it all :)

**NSFW GIF BELOW CUT**

He watched from a distance as you strolled through the streets of the peaceful community. Not a single incident in months, how about that? It was nice to relax for a while.

Deanna had put a halt on recruiting for a while, after the attack by the Wolves, so Daryl had kind of been twiddling his thumbs, begging for an excuse to leave beyond the walls. He felt so closed up.

He had too much time on his hands, too much room in his brain for thoughts and feelings. He didn't like it. Ever since he stopped going out, he crossed your path often. You were quiet, shy even. You rarely spoke up unless spoken to. You didn't make eye contact often, if at all. But most of all, you were beautiful. From your head to your toes. He'd often find himself admiring your (hair length) (hair color) hair. It framed your face perfectly. When the sun would shine just right, your (skin tone) skin would glow in ways he hadn't noticed before.

Your body was something else entirely. The shape of you drove him nuts. The way your ass swayed when you walked. You didn't even have to try, you were effortlessly seductive.

He gulped as you walked up your steps and went inside. He wondered how hard it would be to initiate a conversation, to get to know you. He shook his head. Surely that was a foolish idea. As a whole, he had bigger things he needed to be worried about. So, surely asking you about something important would be harmless, right?

You worked at the pantry with Olivia, who had mentioned to him recently that they'd need to stock up soon. He decided to ask you to make him a list. Then, he'd get to talk to you, and he'd have an excuse to go on a run. Two birds, one stone, right? Right. He sucked in a breath of confidence and strode to your door. He went to knock but his fist stopped just centimeters from the door.

"Oh.." He heard you whine. Were you crying? He tried to peek through the tall slender windows on either side of your door. The glass was lightly frosted, so the image was blurry, but he could make out a silhouette on the couch.

"Daryl.." You moaned out louder. His heart stopped. His neck and ears heated ashe gulped. Were you...?

----

You stared at the sidewalk as you walked home from work. You couldn't get the image out of your mind. Daryl was there earlier, rearranging shelves for you and Olivia. In his tight black button up shirt, his muscles bulged against the fabric, aching to bust out. Or, maybe you were just aching to bust them out. Either way, your lustful mind couldn't get enough. The visual was painted vividly in your mind's eye, and you'd be storing it permanently in your vault of lewd thoughts about the quiet archer.

The entire rest of your shift was spent silently fantasizing about all the ways you'd let him use and abuse you, if only he wanted anything to do with you. You'd never even spoken to him, beyond a quiet and polite thank you or a curt nod in passing. By the time you made it to your door, you were throbbing between your legs. You couldn't hold it back. You didn't even care to scurry up the stairs and hide away in your bed. No, you simply threw your pants to the ground and sprawled out on the couch, slipping your fingers right inside your panties.

You started with a gentle trace up and down your slit with a single finger. You stared up at the ceiling, using your imaginary paintbrush to paint a picture on the white canvas. Images of Daryl, his arms, his hands, the way he walked, each drag of a cigarette.

You got worked up pretty fast. You got tired of teasing yourself. Wasn't lusting over an unattainable man torture enough?

You slipped a finger inside yourself and sucked in a sharp breath, using your wetness to rub circles over your clit. "Oh..." You whined, closing your eyes, picturing his fingers in place of your own. You sped up the pace a little, rocking your hips as the tension began to build. You pictured the way he'd look down at you if he were there instead of your fingers. How he'd hold you still so you couldn't wiggle out of his grasp, how he'd make you cum until you begged him to stop, and he'd probably keep going.

"Daryl.." You moaned out, feeling a knot build in your abdomen. You were getting so close.

----

He listened closely. You were moaning, that was for sure, but all he could see through the foggy windows was a blob on the couch that appeared to be moving.

Fuck it, he thought. The tension was killing him. If you were moaning his name in there, there was no reason for him to hold back and be polite. He only hoped he could catch you in the act.

He carefully grabbed the doorknob, hoping you wouldn't hear him. He twisted softly, and when he realized it wasn't locked, he pushed the door open.

You jumped up and pulled your hand out of your panties, startled and wide-eyed as you stared at him. Shame washed over you as he gazed at you, pushing the door shut behind him.

"Daryl.." You breathed quietly. Your heart was beating so fast your chest could explode. He made slow steps over to you. Each thump of his boots on your floor made you flinch. "W-What are you doing..?"

He glanced down at your wet panties and back up to you as he approached, towering over where you sat on the couch.

"Could be askin' you the same." He rasped. You gulped.

"I was just--"

"You were sayin' my name." He cut you off. Your eyes grew wide. So, he definitely heard you.

"No I wasn't." You lied.

"Mm." He hummed. "Sure sounded like it."

"Well even if I was you shouldn't be eavesdropping at my front--"

"Shh." He hushed, tracing a calloused finger over your lips and down the front of your throat, hooking it on the collar of your shirt. His gaze was predatory, scanning down your body with a sense of starvation that made you tremble.

He dragged another finger up your thigh, sending shivers up your spine. He admired the goosebumps that raised on your soft skin in the wake of his touch. His eyes met yours.

"Tell me to stop and I will." He whispered. Your eyes widened as he leaned in and fluttered shut as his lips brushed against yours. You gasped into the kiss as he snapped with elastic of your underwear against your skin. He pulled back and peered down between your legs. You hadn't told him to stop, but he still hoped his next move would be okay. "Lemme see."

"W-What?"

"Lemme see." He repeated, tugging at the hem of your panties. You were too nerve stricken to act, so you just nodded.

Slowly, he dragged your panties down your thighs and held them up with a nearly invisible smirk. You glanced at the wet spot and blushed shamefully. "All for me?" He teased.

He spread your legs wide.

"Show me." He instructed. Your eyebrows met in confusion. "Show me how ya play with yourself." He clarified.

"I-- I don't.."

"Don't get nervous on me now. Sounded like ya had it under control just a minute ago."

With a shaky hand, you reached between your legs and aimlessly traced a circle over your clit with a single finger, never looking away from his face. He watched you for a minute and shook his head.

"Stop." He ordered. You did. You gasped as he traced his own finger right down your slit one time. "Like this..." He took your finger back to your clit and guided it, gentle laps around your clit causing your hips to jerk. "Now, do it just like that."

You continued as he took his hand away, holding back the noises that threatened to escape. You kept asking yourself what you were doing, if this was even real.

He admired the show for some time, but it became quickly apparent you'd never make yourself cum with him watching like that. You were too nervous and clumsy. You couldn't keep a rhythm and you faltered every time you started to build yourself up to a climax. He gently pulled your hand to the side again.

"Need some help?" He offered. You didn't respond. "Need an answer, darlin'."

You hesitantly nodded.

"Mm. Gon' need more than that." He taunted cockily. You nodded quicker this time, eagerness in your eyes. He smirked. "That's more like it.." He cooed, tracing his fingers up and down your clit gently. You let out a tiny whine.

Between him cutting you off right before you came earlier, and all those times you almost came trying to masturbate in front of him, you were so sensitive, and he could tell. Your clit was swollen and red and every little touch made you jolt and writhe.

"Don't hold out on me. Let me know ya like it." He said as he slipped a finger inside you. You gasped and moaned as he massaged you, slipping a second finger in when he found your sweet spot. You bit down on your bottom lip and rolled your hips. Your moans grew louder and more confident as pleasure crept over you. That bashful, reserved girl from the pantry was quickly melting away, leaving you in a raw, lustful, dirty state.

Your eyes closed as your head fell back on the couch. His thumb pressed down on your clit as his fingers worked carefully inside. You moaned again as his rough thumb traced skillful circles over the sensitive area.

"Say my name." He ordered.

"Daryl.." You moaned shamelessly. He smirked.

"Again."

"Daryl." You whined. He was getting you close.

"Look at me." He demanded.

You opened your eyes and watched him. Your eyelids were lazy and your eyes were glazed and sex drunk.

"Say it."

"Daryl." You squeaked. You were so close. That knot in your stomach was back, tied so tight that the rope was begging to snap.

"What's my name?"

"Daryl." You breathed.

"C'mon, darlin.' Ya wanna cum or not?"

"Daryl... Daryl.."

"That's it." He slowed his pace to a stop, leaving you right at the edge.

"Daryl!" You whined and pouted.

He ignored your plea and pulled your shirt over your head before he tugged your bra down to expose your breasts. Your nipples were hard and bumps littered your skin as the cold air conditioning hit them. He pinched one hard, eliciting a small cry. He played with them a little before he slipped his fingers back inside you and worked his thumb over your clit again. You shuttered and exhaled a shaky moan. That was like, the fourth or fifth time your orgasm was cut off right before it started. It was torture. Painful, blissful, pleasurable torture.

You flinched and squirmed against his fingers, walls clenching and pulsating around his fingers, making it a little harder for him to work them. Nonetheless, he pressed on.

"Look at me." He demanded. You obeyed. Your eyes welled up with tears as he built you back up.

"Please..."You begged.

"Please, what?"

"Please, Daryl."

"Wha'd'ya want?"

"Please, Daryl. I wanna cum."

Triumph washed over him as you begged.

"I'm so close." You whispered.

"Then say it."

"Daryl." You cried.

"Again."

"D-Daryl.."

"Don't stutter."

"Daryl!" You moaned loud. A wave washed over you as you finally reached the climax. Your body shuddered, legs shaking as you moaned and writhed. He kept going until you rode the entirety of your high, only stopping when he was sure you couldn't take anymore.

He looked down at the wet stain between your legs where the couch cushion soaked up all your cum, save for the mess all over his fingers. You shook and whined as he pulled his fingers out, watching with your mouth hung open as he sucked them clean and licked his lips.

"Next time, just ask." He whispered as he kissed your forehead and left your house.

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inthedayswhenlandswerefew · 2 months ago

Text

In The Gloomy Depths [Chapter 6: Bloodstone]

Series summary: Five years ago, jewel mining tycoon Daemon Targaryen made a promise in order to win your hand in marriage. Now he has broken it and forced you into a voyage across the Atlantic, betraying you in increasingly horrifying ways and using your son as leverage to ensure your cooperation. You have no friends and no allies, except a destitute viola player you can’t seem to get away from…

Series warnings: Language, sexual content (18+ readers only), parenthood, dolphins, death and peril, violence (including domestic violence), drinking, smoking, freezing temperatures, murder, if you don’t like Titanic you won’t like this fic!!! 😉

Word count: 6.1k

💜 All my writing can be found HERE! 💜

Tagging: @nightvyre @mrs-starkgaryen @gemini-mama @ecstaticactus @chattylurker, more in comments 🥰

💎 Only 1 chapter left!!! 💎

You must not have heard him correctly. Down by the bow, third-class passengers are still laughing as they kick pieces of ice back and forth. Children who have been shaken awake are giggling as they dash around in their worn, patched coats. On the Promenade Deck, tycoons and aristocrats are flagging down stewards to fetch them fresh drinks. There is no more humming of the ship’s engines, although no one else seems to have noticed; they have quit and will never work again. In a few hours, they will be resting on the bottom of the North Atlantic Ocean. It’s just barely April 15th, and half the passengers aboard won’t live to see the sunrise.

Kill Daemon??

You’ve never even hit anybody, not unless they struck you first. “I can’t kill someone.”

“Yes you can,” Aegon insists. His tone is urgent; there isn’t much time left. “And you won’t have to do it alone. Like I said, I’ll help you.”

A drop in your stomach, a chill down your spine, wide-eyed primal fear like a prey animal’s. “Even if I wanted to, Daemon can’t be killed.”

“He’s not a monster. He’s just a man. He has blood and organs just like we do. I promise you, if we cut him he’ll bleed.”

“He’ll hurt me,” you whimper. “He’ll know what I’m trying to do and he’ll break my neck or push me overboard. You don’t know him, he’s…he’s…he’s relentless, he’s cunning—”

“We can have what we want,” Aegon says, grabbing your face with his hands, fingertips callused from years of playing viola on streets, in pubs, in small rented rooms, on the decks of ships. “We can leave Titanic together. We can stay with my family for a while in New York, and then we’ll go back to Ireland so you can be with yours, and when my father dies we’ll spend half the year in England and the other half with your parents, and you’ll get to keep Draco, and Daemon will never touch you again. You’ll be free, Petra. And you deserve that. But no one is going to give it to you. You have to fight for it.”

Is it possible? Is it really? You imagine having breakfast with your parents in Lough Cutra Castle, the table full: you, Aegon, Draco, Fern, everyone smiling over plates of fried eggs, bacon, beans, mushrooms, tomatoes, and white pudding, cups of tea breathing steam into the cool morning air. Are you willing to fight for that? Are you willing to murder? At last you say: “Daemon isn’t the only problem.”

“Who else?” Aegon asks, demanding, impatient, though his hands are gentle. “Rhaenyra? And the old woman, right? Draco’s governess. Dagmar.”

“And Daemon’s bodyguard Edward Rushton, we call him Rush. He carries a pistol.”

“Okay.” Aegon nods, his eyes distant, his thoughts whirling like Titanic’s colossal propellers once did and never will again. You know he’s devising a plan. We only have an hour or two.

“Aegon…I have to get Draco into a lifeboat first.”

“Right.” He kisses you, a quick brush across your cheek like a dusting of snow, and you think: I can’t lose him. “Over a thousand passengers are going to die tonight. Let’s make sure four of them are people who deserve it.” Then he takes your hand and together you descend the steps to B-Deck.

~~~~~~~~~~

Scarlet fever is named for the distinctive rash that marks its victims, tiny red dots like blood blisters, so itchy they are soon scratched raw, raised bumps of braille in the shape of ominous omens, corporal constellations of bad stars. Dagmar was reminded of them the first time she ever saw bloodstone, a dark green crystal freckled with red, a pendant that Dameon sent her from across the world where he was opening a new mine in Australia.

Valentin was the first one to get sick. He was the youngest, the only boy, and while perhaps mothers are not supposed to have favorites Dagmar knew in her bones that she did. She held him—three years old, white-blonde hair, loud and wild—as he grew quiet and weak and hot with fever, and then he was gone. After Valentin was Juni, and then Karin, and then Mikele, and finally Gunnar, a lumberman who worked hard and never complained, not even when he was dying of kidney failure. Dagmar was once a woman with four children and a husband, but then she was no one, untethered to the earth, unmoored from everything that had been, and people left adrift in the ocean are likely to drown and spend eternity in the crushing, sunless abyss.

She wandered for a while, too old to fathom a new life, too young to simply wait to die herself, and of course suicide is a sin. To keep from starving she took jobs as a governess; the only thing Dagmar knew how to do was raise children, and she was good at it. With each new household she found herself searching for Valentin’s eyes and hair and spirit, for a child that could make her believe he was alive again. But none of the temperate, blue-blooded little boys or girls of England—where Dagmar had fled to escape the memories of her homeland—came close to filling his footsteps, his handprints, the hemorrhaging puncture wound he left in her chest.

Then one brutally cold winter, Dagmar was referred to the 8th Duke of Beaufort Baelon Targaryen, deep in mourning for his wife Alyssa who had recently perished in childbirth and at a loss to handle his two sons. Viserys, the heir, was already eight years old and too set in his ways to ever see Dagmar as a mother. But Daemon, only four—so much like Val, Dagmar had thought as she lifted him from the floor—was sad and needy and vicious, furious at the world for stealing his mother from him, and this was something Dagmar could understand. She became his new mother. He became her reason for living.

Daemon grew up, as all children do if they are not preserved forever in youth by untimely deaths, and Dagmar drifted away to other castles and mansions, other families, other attempts to silence the ghosts that rattled doors and windows as she slept. But no one could replace Daemon, and each time she received a letter or a gift from him—photographs from his mining expeditions, bracelets and hair combs, taxidermied foreign beasts—Dagmar would write him a thank you note and always include the same postscript: Daemon my dear, my brave rogue prince, it would be the greatest joy of my life to one day help look after your own child. And at last, when Draco was born he summoned her, and little Valentin was alive once again.

Now unlike Daemon, Draco did have a mother, but she was young and easily managed, inexperienced with babies, eager to please her husband. Daemon was so sage and charismatic and renowned, and she faded into his shadow until all her colors were gone and she was black and white like a photograph, never knowing what to do or say, staring inanely from doorways. This was just fine as far as Dagmar was concerned. She could pretend that Daemon’s wife was dead like poor Alyssa Targaryen.

Here on Titanic, the baffling shockwave yanked Draco out of his dreams. He’s crying, soft disoriented whines, and Dagmar soothes him and reads him The Little Mermaid and tells Fern—also awakened by the shudder and now pacing restlessly around the staterooms—to make some tea. Just as Draco is finally dozing off again, there is a loud knock at the front door. Dagmar brings Draco out into the sitting room, leading him by one of his tiny pawlike hands, to find Fern speaking to a steward who will not come inside any farther than the doorway, as if he is in a hurry. Fern, puzzled, is clutching the white lifebelts he has given her.

The steward is explaining: “I’m sure it’s just a precaution, ma’am—”

“It’s not a precaution,” Daemon’s wife says as she sweeps into the room, and for some reason there is a man with her, a blonde man in a black wool coat. Immediately, Dagmar’s blood turns to dark viscid poison. What is she doing? Why can’t she disappear? “Thank you,” Daemon’s wife tells the steward briskly. “I’m sure you have other rooms to visit. You should be on your way.”

The steward is evidently too busy to be offended. He retreats into the hallway and vanishes, and the strange blonde man shuts the door behind him. Dagmar scrutinizes the intruder, and he glares back at her with eyes like deep water, a murky melancholy blue. He’s the same man she saw on the Boat Deck, the one who reminded her so much of Viserys when he was young, that solemn, grieving boy she could not coax into loving her.

Why can’t Daemon’s wife just die? Why should she live when so many have been lost? Why would God judge her more worthy than Valentin, Juni, Karin, Mikele, Gunnar?

“What’s going on?” Fern asks Daemon’s wife, her voice reedy and timid.

Instead of an answer, there is a question in return: “Is anyone else here?”

“No,” Fern says, perplexed. “Why? What’s happened?”

Daemon’s wife holds out an empty hand, not to Fern but to Draco, who Dagmar is still grasping with bony fingers gnarled by arthritis. She says: “Draco, please come with me.”

“Why?” he asks, but he has already taken a step towards her, tiny bare feet. Dagmar does not surrender him. She will not, she cannot. He stops when his arm is fully extended and then looks back to his governess, his surrogate mother, his pale eyes full of doubt.

“We have to go somewhere,” Daemon’s wife says. She is still reaching for him. “Draco, please. I need you to listen to me, we don’t have much time.”

“No,” Dagmar sneers. “You don’t know how to take care of him. You never have.”

“Can I go?” Draco asks softly, and Dagmar pretends she has not heard him.

“Draco,” Daemon’s brainless young wife pleads. Her eyes flick up to Dagmar’s, and there is a moment of terrible understanding between them, as if they are mirror images: neither can try to force him without driving him into the embrace of the other. He is not a child who is easily tamed; he is a wolf, he is a dragon.

“Dagmar?” Draco says, peering up at her, and he’s asking for permission but in another minute he might be stomping his feet and screeching loud enough for the entire hallway to hear.

Dagmar glances at the lifebelts Fern is gripping tightly. What’s wrong with the ship? Is it sinking? But no, Dagmar cannot believe this. Titanic is unsinkable; everybody in the world knows that. She tells the boy: “She’ll take you away from me. She’ll steal you. But she won’t keep you safe and warm and happy like I would.”

“I’m your mother,” Daemon’s wife tells Draco, and now her voice is choked and there are tears glittering in her desperate eyes. The blonde man looks at her like he would carry the weight of her anguish if he could, every last pound. Who is he? Why is he here? “I know it might not feel that way sometimes, but I am. And I love you more than anything. I would never hurt you. I’m trying to protect you. Draco, I need you to come with me right now.”

And horribly, unthinkably, he yanks his little hand out of Dagmar’s. She claws for him and he spins around to face her. “No!” Draco shouts. “I decide! Me! Not you!” She is stunned into silence. She watches him careen across the sitting room, and Daemon’s wife scoops him up as if he belongs to her. She holds him for a while, a minute or more, before she sets him down on the floor and quickly helps Draco get his socks and shoes on. The boy does not complain. Then she lifts him again and—with what appears to be great effort—passes him to Fern, who while bewildered accepts this task, now carrying both the boy and the lifebelts. Daemon’s wife grabs all the coats hanging from the coat rack and piles them into Fern’s already full arms.

“Fern, take him upstairs to the Boat Deck. Get to a lifeboat, do not wait. They will be launching them soon if they haven’t started already.”

“Lifeboats?” Fern repeats, blinking, stymied.

“Yes,” Daemon’s wife says, and she and the maid share a long, silent, meaningful look. Draco gazes worriedly around the room, gnawing on his fingernails. The blonde man watches Dagmar, his expression severe, hateful.

Fern asks: “How much time until Titanic…?”

“An hour or two. You won’t be in the lifeboat for long, a ship called Carpathia is en route. But she’s not close enough.”

“Oh,” the maid exhales numbly. “Jesus, Mary, and Joseph…”

“Stay with Draco. Don’t leave him for a second. Get into a lifeboat, keep him warm, wait for Carpathia. I’ll follow you as soon as I can, but…there are some things I have to do first.”

“Like what, ma’am? What could be so important? You shouldn’t wait either.”

Instead of answering, she says, low like a dire warning: “If you happen to see them, do not speak to Daemon, Rhaenyra, or Rush. Don’t tell them what’s going on.”

“Yes ma’am,” Fern replies quietly, and nods like she suddenly understands. She takes Draco and hurries out of the room. Now Dagmar is alone with them: Daemon’s idiotic little girl of a wife, her inexplicable companion.

“This ship can’t sink,” Dagmar says; but is the floor tilting? She has only just noticed it.

“Of course it can,” Daemon’s wife counters. “Any ship can. I kept telling everyone how terrified I was of the voyage and you all treated me like I was insane. But I was right. I wasn’t a coward and I wasn’t stupid. And you can’t make me believe that I am anymore.”

Dagmar is about to reply—something cutting, something cruel—but then her steely Scandinavian eyes snag on the stranger and all at once it hits her like a man’s knuckles. She gasps, shocked, ferocious. Aegon. Viserys’ son. A villain, a traitor, an unworthy beneficiary of a grand inheritance. “I know who you are. How the hell did you get here?”

The man grins menacingly. “Fortune brought me a ticket. Best luck I’ve ever had.”

Dagmar screams, hoping he will hear her: “Daemon?!”

Aegon lunges, catches her around her long thin waist, wrestles her towards the door to the private promenade deck. Dagmar isn’t strong, but she is fierce; she scratches at his eyes and bites his hands when they try to smother her howls. They stumble together through the doorway and out onto the pine planks, knocking over lightweight wicker furniture. When her teeth close around Aegon’s fingers, Dagmar tastes blood like warm copper.

“A window!” Aegon is telling Daemon’s wife, but she’s already there after slamming the door to the sitting room shut, franticly turning the hand crank under the nearest window. The glass opens, and freezing night air pours in.

They’re trying to kill me, Dagmar realizes. They’re going to throw me overboard.

She jabs a bony elbow into Aegon’s throat, and he collapses to the deck, wheezing and helpless.

“Daemon!” Dagmar shrieks again. If he hears me, he’ll save me. My savior, my son. “Help!”

But it’s his wife who arrives instead. She collides with Dagmar, strikes her with two open palms, shoves her through the window. Dagmar’s hipbone cracks against the windowsill, a dry brittle snap, and then she tumbles out into the darkness.

Her last thought as she sees the stars—before she hits the frigid water and is knocked unconscious, then dragged under by the merciless weight of gravity—is that if they were red they would look like the dots on the skin of a child with scarlet fever, like the crimson flecks in a bloodstone.

~~~~~~~~~~

“Oh my God, I…we…” You stare down into the black waves that swallowed her so effortlessly, a flash of her long silver hair as it came undone and then nothing. “She’s gone. She’s really gone. We killed her. We’re murderers.”

In reply, Aegon coughs and gasps for air, still crawling around on the deck. You run to him and help him stand up.

“Thanks,” he croaks.

“Are you alright? What can I do?”

“I’ll be fine,” he rasps. “Just need a minute.”

You look down to see blood dripping from his fingers, thick beads of crimson like teardrop-shaped rubies, like oil paint. You ache for him, you feel his pain as if it is your own. “Your hands, Aegon, your hands…”

“I’m okay,” Aegon assures you, smiling. “The bitch chewed me up, but I’ll live.”

“I want to save your paintings,” you say. “We can’t let them go down with the ship. We’ll take them to the Boat Deck and give Fern your portfolio, make sure she and Draco get safely into a lifeboat, and then…then we’ll…” We’ll finish what must be done. We’ll free you and me and Draco.

Aegon is nodding as he rubs his throat, already bruising. “Any idea where Rush might be? The guy with the gun?”

Before you can answer, you both hear it: the sound of a door swinging open and heavy footsteps inside.

~~~~~~~~~~

He likes that Daemon calls him Rush. It’s better than Eddie, which is who he was when he was a boy being kicked and backhanded by his stepfather, and laughed at by the other kids at school for not having shoes to wear. Now he is someone brand new, and that boy Eddie could be a character in a book or a song, vaguely familiar but not real.

Daemon has never hit Rush, never even threatened him. He has never stolen his laborers’ promised wages or cornered maids to violate them, impregnate them, ruin their lives. He goes into the mines he opens and periodically travels the world to inspect, descending into clouds of dust and chipping gemstones from the walls with his own tools. He is kind to his son Draco. He is brave, he is brilliant, he knows how to have a drink with working men and captivate them with his stories. Rush would do anything for Daemon, who saved him from a life of obscure, powerless poverty. He would overlook any number of sins.

Rush gusts into the bedroom and sets about gathering up valuables and stuffing them into a suitcase: business correspondence, jewelry, sketches of designs, bundles of cash from the safe. Daemon will regret having to leave the taxidermied tiger head, but it’s simply too large and heavy to bring with them. Rush hasn’t located Daemon and Rhaenyra yet, but this isn’t so unusual; they are always sneaking around, evading being found purely for the sake of it, the deception, the thrill, ravaging each other in ever more inventive places. God knows where they were when Titanic struck the iceberg, or if they are aware of the impending sinking. Rush is not panicking yet; there’s still time, though perhaps not too much of it. With each passing minute, the ship lists further towards the starboard side. He is just about to get Daemon’s dagger from the writing desk when he hears the door open to the private promenade deck. Rush turns to see Lady Targaryen peeking in from the threshold, pale blue dress, white coat.

He has never felt any loyalty to her. She is a thoughtless, mollycoddled girl, raised in a castle with parents who loved her, and what would she know of what the world was like for everyone else? Daemon only roughed her up when she deserved it, when there was no other way to make her listen, and never too badly: no split bones, no scars. In Rush’s opinion, it was just enough to give her a taste of adversity.

He sighs. “Well, unless you plan on drowning or freezing to death tonight, you might as well follow me up to the Boat Deck. I’m just here to collect some things. They’re only putting women and children in the lifeboats now, but I’m sure first-class men won’t be far behind.”

She says nothing, only watches him from the doorway. The old witch Dagmar isn’t here; she must have already taken the boy to the highest level of the ship, where affluent passengers are waiting impatiently and still in denial that Titanic will soon disappear beneath the waves, asking stewards to fetch them drinks and cigars, calling out song requests to the string quartet.

“You wouldn’t happen to have seen Daemon or Rhaenyra, I assume?”

“I thought they were with you.”

“No,” Rush says, smirking. “I seem to have lost track of them. They’re not in either of their staterooms. But don’t fear. Daemon is more than capable of looking after himself. He’ll turn up soon enough.” Perhaps I missed them up on the Boat Deck; it was crowded, it was chaos. Perhaps Daemon is already helping Rhaenyra into a lifeboat, his large rough hands steadying hers as she steps inside. He would save her first.

“I’ll help you pack the valuables,” Lady Targaryen says suddenly, and starts towards Daemon’s writing desk.

“Just keep out of the way,” Rush snaps; and then he sees something and stops dead.

A painter’s easel has slid halfway out from beneath the bed as the floor tilts. This is a peculiar enough item, but the paper clipped to it is stranger. The image is of Lady Targaryen, that is certain, but she isn’t alone; there is a man with her, and while nothing is shown below the collarbones, the activity in which they are partaking is unmistakable.

If she’s found a lover, Daemon really will kill her this time.

Rush gapes at the painting for several long seconds and then looks up at Lady Targaryen. “What the fuck is that?”

~~~~~~~~~~

Your hand hovers on the handle of the desk drawer. You can’t open it and take the dagger while Rush is watching. You know that beneath his coat he wears a shoulder holster containing a Colt 1911. Even with a blade, you are outmatched.

Aegon appears in the doorway to the private deck with a wicker chair. He hurls it at Rush as hard as he can, and as Rush curses and fumbles for his pistol, you seize Daemon’s dagger from the drawer and plunge it into Rush’s back, once, twice, three times, many more. You can’t help but scream as you stab him, because it’s horrible beyond description: the resistance of gristle, the muffled popping of organs, kidneys or a liver or a spleen, and Rush is groaning and contorting, dark blood spilling across the slanting floor. Aegon struggles with him for the gun, ultimately wrenching it out of Rush’s weakening, shaking hands. He’s dying, and while you harbor no affection for him and never have, you remember the children your parents lost. Life is not something to take carelessly. It is already so fragile, and each death creates mourners like heads springing from a hydra.

Over a thousand people will die tonight. Is that really possible?

Rush has stopped moving. You are kneeling with the gold hilt of the dagger in your fist. The gemstones are splattered with blood: amethyst, tiger’s eye, black opal, emerald, ruby, bloodstone, sapphire.

“Here,” Aegon says, trying to give you the pistol.

You recoil. “I don’t know how to use that.”

He laughs, a half-hysterical little cackle. There is a smudge of Rush’s blood across his cheek like a stain of lipstick. “I don’t either!”

“Keep the gun. I trust you.” You turn to the easel that has slid out from beneath the ruffled bed skirt—once white, now speckled with red—and realize that stray blooddrops have been flung across the painting, dots of red turning tacky on the thin layer of oil paint. “I ruined it,” you say, soft and mournful.

“No,” Aegon disagrees, smiling. “You just added some more color.”

You use the bedsheets to wipe the worst of the blood off your hands and the dagger. Then you pull Aegon’s leather portfolio out from underneath the bed, open it, and store the new painting safely inside. In the meantime, Aegon rolls Rush’s body into the closet and entombs him in a heap of gowns you’ll never wear again. You stand, pick up the dagger, and catch a glimpse of yourself in the oval-shaped mirror…and instead of looking away, you stay there for a while. The woman in the glass—like silver, like moonlight—has frightened eyes but a glinting blade as well. There are massive maroon splotches on the belly of your ice-blue dress; you button your coat to conceal them. Through the open door to the private deck, frigid night air floods in like the seawater slowly filling Titanic.

What does water that cold feel like? Like knives, like fangs? A thousand people will soon find out.

“Ready?” Aegon asks. He puts the pistol in the pocket of his stolen black coat.

“Almost.” You find your handbag from yesterday, green to match the emerald-colored dress you wore before Aegon painted you, before he uncovered you like a rare gemstone. Within is Aegon’s small aluminum lighter; you tuck the dagger inside as well. You yank out a handkerchief and clean the blood from Aegon’s cheek with it, then peer down at his swollen, bloodied fingers and knuckles, ravaged by Dagmar’s bitemarks. They are trembling. “Are your hands—?”

“I’m fine, I’m fine,” he whispers, pulling you in and kissing you, touching your face and your hair, his lips warm and soft in a haze of copper-scented glacial air. Would you do this again for him? For Draco, for yourself? Yes. I’d do it a hundred times. “We’re halfway done.”

Up on the Boat Deck, people are finally realizing that the ship is in mortal peril. First-class women, shimmering in their gowns and their jewels, are being hastily loaded into lifeboats along with their maids and their children. You spot Fern in one vessel; she is wearing two coats herself, and has bundled Draco in at least four from what you can tell. She holds him on her lap, and Draco is uncharacteristically hushed, compliant, fearful, gawping with startled blue eyes beneath disorderly white-blonde hair. They are seated beside Benjamin Guggenheim’s elegant French mistress, Léontine Aubart. Ben himself is striding back and forth on the deck with a number of companions, all in pristine black suits and puffing on pipes or cigars, assisting the weeping women as they flee to the lifeboats.

“We are prepared to go down as gentlemen!” Ben is trumpeting. Nearby, a string quartet is playing not an Irish song that you have known since childhood but the mellow, merry, please-don’t-panic melody of Samson and Delilah by Camille Saint-Saëns.

“I guess my viola is long gone, huh?” Aegon tells you. “Oh well. I hope the fish enjoy it.”

Ben Guggenheim continues: “Let it be known for all time that we stayed until the end to save the lives of the innocent, our beloved women and children, and that they survived because of us. Our bodies may fail, but our Christian good deeds will last eternally.”

“Hear hear!” other men are shouting drunkenly, raising glasses of brandy. Stewards and officers cast them brief, rather impatient glances. You wonder if any of the aforementioned gentlemen have considered the women and children of the third class, many of whom must have already predeceased them as they were drowned below deck, ignoble, invisible.

You think for the first time: Are they going to let Aegon into a lifeboat?

“Mam!” Draco shouts when he sees you, reaching out with both arms. You sprint to where he is still secured in Fern’s lap and lean over the side of the lifeboat, clasping his cold little hands and kissing the top of his head. Then you give Aegon’s portfolio to Fern.

“Take this with you. Try to make sure it doesn’t get wet.”

“Are you climbing in now, ma’am?” Fern asks hopefully. “There’s room for one more if we squeeze together.” Her eyes dart to Aegon. “Perhaps two.”

“I can’t,” you reply. “Not quite yet. But I’ll be back soon.”

“No, you have to come with us,” Draco says. The ship’s officers are signaling for the vessel to be lowered into the water. You spy other familiar faces aboard: young pregnant Madeleine Astor, the glamorous Countess of Rothes, the newly-wealthy Margaret Brown. Being a first-class passenger will save her life tonight.

“I’ll get in another boat. I promise.”

“No,” Draco says, and now he’s sobbing. He can’t understand the scale of it, but he knows something is terribly wrong. “Mam, we can’t leave without you. There’s room in the boat. Please get in. Please.” And you think: Maybe he does need me after all. Maybe he always did.

“You can go with them,” Aegon murmurs through your hair. “I’ll finish this. I’ll take care of Daemon and Rhaenyra.”

But he might need your help…and you cannot leave him here alone to freeze or drown or be murdered when Daemon discovers his lethal intentions. “You’re safe,” you tell Draco, one last touch of your palm to his hair, one last reassuring smile you hope isn’t a lie. “Stay with Fern. I’ll be in another lifeboat and I’ll see you again when this is over.”

“No, no, no!” Draco cries, still grasping futilely for you; but the lifeboat is lurching down towards the water and he is soon beyond your reach. High above, a flare explodes in the inky night sky, gleaming silver rain to tell any passing ships that Titanic is doomed. The North Atlantic is like black glass, smooth and reflective. Distant constellations are mirrored there, and you remember a passage from a book you gifted Daemon for your second anniversary when you still believed he might one day love you, an ancient tale from India about the beauty of the ocean: Its huge white waves looked like clouds; its gems looked like stars; its crystals looked like the moon; and its long bright serpents bearing gems in their hoods looked like comets, and thus the whole sea looked like the sky.

“Lady Targaryen,” Ben Guggenheim says as he marches over. He is swaying like he might be drunk. If he is, you can’t blame him. The truth is cold, and poison is warm: alcohol, smoke, a lover’s hands, a gush of blood. “Do you require any assistance, my darling?”

“No, thank you,” you reply swiftly before he can inquire further, and Aegon’s arm circles your waist as you hurry towards the entrance of the Grand Staircase together. You clutch your green handbag close to your chest. Where are Daemon and Rhaenyra? When will this be over?

From back by the lifeboats you can hear Ben Guggenheim shouting: “Tell my wife and daughters in New York that I love them! Tell them that I died a hero, and that I shall see them again when one day we are reunited in heaven…pray for my soul…tell the newspapers of our courage tonight…”

You and Aegon escape into the very top level of the Grand Staircase, the dome of glass and wrought iron above, the English oak wood steps winding below. As you enter, a frenzied crowd passes you on their way out to the Boat Deck: shipbuilder Thomas Andrews, J. Bruce Ismay, a number of others. And then, just as you and Aegon are beginning your descent, you see her on the landing below, frozen in place where she gapes up at you from beside the clock. Soon its ticking will fall silent forever. It will live on only in the memories of the survivors.

Rhaenyra is alone on the staircase. She is wearing a red and black gown and a white lifebelt; she is on her way to evacuate the sinking ship. You have intercepted her not a moment too soon. But she is not looking at you. Her Targaryen-blue eyes are fixed on Aegon, incredulous. It is the first time she has truly noticed him since she came aboard, and she remembers his face from photographs, from portraits, from awkward, frosty visits when they were both children.

“Aegon?” she says. “What are you doing here?”

In response, he removes the pistol from his coat pocket. Rhaenyra screams and bolts down the staircase, Aegon right behind her, flying like a phantom, like a shadow in his stolen black wool coat.

You try to follow, but they are faster. You slip on the steps, one of your blue shoes clattering away as you grip the banister to keep from falling. You reclaim your shoe where the staircase meets A-Deck; outside the illustrious Promenade Deck encircles the perimeter of the ship. You steady yourself against the bronze cherub statue as you slide your shoe back on, then resume the chase…but you don’t know where Aegon and Rhaenyra have gone.

Farther down the Grand Staircase? Out onto the Promenade Deck? Into the maze of hallways?

You try to listen for them, but the turmoil outside is growing louder. You hear a gunshot, but you cannot tell from which direction; the sound reverberates through the steel of the ship and melds with the chorus of failing machinery: groaning joints, snapping beams, steam vented from the massive funnels. You pause in the doorway that leads out to the Promenade Deck, black freezing air drawn into your heaving lungs.

Which way?

Now there are footsteps on the Grand Staircase coming up from B-Deck. You race back to the bronze cherub, but it is not Aegon or Rhaenyra who meets you there. It is Daemon, appearing on the landing like a fogbank or a thunderstorm, black suit, glinting deep-set eyes, towering over you; and once again you are a seventeen-year-old girl climbing into the marriage bed with him and hoping he’ll like you, once again you feel yourself to be entirely at his mercy, in terror of him, in awe of him.

Daemon grabs you by your coat and pushes you against the bronze cherub statue, its edges prodding at your spine. You yelp and he chuckles, and he asks, so casually he must know nothing about Aegon or his pursuit of Rhaenyra like a hound after a fox: “And what are your plans for this evening, dear? Dinner and dancing? Or perhaps a nice brisk swim? Good for one’s health, I hear.”

You can’t find your words. Your fingers that grasp your handbag are numb and useless. Daemon is inside you again, not your body this time but your mind, snipping threads and dissolving mirages. How did I ever believe I could kill him?

Slowly, Daemon’s grin dies. He releases you, and then for some reason—a trick?? a trap??—offers you his empty hand. “Come on,” he says, as if relenting. “I’ll help you get to a lifeboat.”

You stare up at him, and the shock must show on your face, the disbelief, the cautious wonder.

“I can’t take you away from Draco,” Daemon says, answering a question you don’t need to ask. He owns all of you; you have no secrets. “He’s so young. And I know what it’s like to lose a mother.”

Draco, you think with abrupt glass-sharp clarity. I’m doing this for him, and Aegon, and me.

You don’t take Daemon’s hand. Instead, you open your handbag and rip out the dagger. You slash at Daemon’s throat, and you almost cut him deep enough, a fraction of an inch from the carotid or the jugular or the windpipe. But Daemon pulls away at the last second and you only wound him, scarlet rivulets spilling down his neck and staining the white shirt beneath his suit jacket, melting rubies, hard soulless gemstones in the sockets of his eyes.

Daemon throws you down the staircase and you hit the oak steps hard, bruising, twisting, rolling, the thoughts jolted out of your skull. The dagger is knocked from your hand and is lost. You fumble blindly for it where you are sprawled on the next landing, halfway to B-Deck. Your vision is blurred by stars like those in the mirror image on the North Atlantic Ocean.

But I need the dagger, I need it, I need it, I can’t kill him without it.

And as you lift your head you see Daemon coming down to meet you, a gemcutter here to break you over and over again, until there is nothing left but glimmering dust, until you have never existed at all.

#aegon ii targaryen #aegon ii #aegon targaryen ii #aegon targaryen x reader #aegon x reader #aegon targaryen #aegon ii targaryen x reader #aegon ii x you #aegon ii x y/n #aegon ii x reader #aegon ii fanfic #aegon x y/n #aegon x you

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therealcocoshady · 3 months ago

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Eminem with a younger girlfriend - HCs

Hey guys ! Here is a little HC that popped in my head about Marshall Mathers dating someone significantly younger 😉. I hope you enjoy it 💕 it is directly inspired by my experience, a twentysomething who is roughly Hailie’s age, thirsting over him 🙊

- Marshall Mathers knows he’s got young ladies thirsting over him but he shrugs it off. Don’t get him wrong, he is flattered, but it makes him just a tiny bit uncomfortable. And when someone shows him some of these unhinged thirst tweets written by twentysomethings who are even younger than his own kids ? He is downright mortified.

- He doesn’t really get why people his kids’ age think he is attractive. Of course, music is part image and everything, but he’s got three daughters who constantly tease him for being a dork. Same for the younger rappers he works with. So he absolutely does not think of himself as a sex symbol or anything.

- He kind of figures people are not really attracted to him. That it’s more about the fame and the fact that pictures can be misleading. I mean, have you seen the way they photoshop his lines ? He really thinks people would come off it rather quickly if they saw him in person.

- Also, he’s young at heart, but he is very much aware of his « inner old man », who takes just as much space as his inner child. So, to him, no young lady in their right mind would actually be interested in him.

- By the way, he is more easily attracted by someone older than him than younger. And in the instances where he has dated younger women, a decade was the bigger age gap he would allow.

- Unless he meets you, that is. When you meet, the chemistry is immediate. He can’t even deny it. He is just attracted to you as you are to him.

- At first, he does not really register the age difference. But then, you say something like « oh, I remember when that song came out. I was eight ! » that has him in shock.

- He thinks you are absolutely stunning. And he knows he is allowed to. You’re over the age of 21, it’s not like you’re a teenager or anything. You’re an actual adult, mature and everything. But he is still weirded out. It doesn’t help that your personality makes you even more attractive. He is drawn to you and it kind of leaves him wondering if he’s being kind of creepy.

- As soon as he realizes how old (how young) you are he kind of stops flirting. « I’m sorry, i just- I thought you liked me ? » you say as you finally decide to confront him. « Yeah, I did. I do. It’s just… I’m 51 », he replies in an attempt to offer an explanation. « And ? » you ask with a raised eyebrow. « I hadn’t realized you were so young » he continues. « i didn’t realize i looked so old », you said with a pout. « No ! I mean- Look, I like you, you’re great. You look incredible. But I’m old enough to be your dad », he says. « I mean, I wouldn’t mind calling you Da- » you jokingly begin, but he shuts you up with a death stare real quick.

- You try the « come on, age is just a number argument » but it does not work as well as you hoped it would. « You know who would agree with you ? R. Kelly » he replies with a raised eyebrow.

- The two of you keep on talking and hanging out but he insists there won’t be anything besides friendship. Until, one night, your flirty banter finally earns you a kiss. « I knew you’d give in », you grin with pride and satisfaction. « I can still change my mind », he playfully threatens.

- The two of you start dating eventually but, in the beginning, he mentally slaps himself a handful of times. That being said, he absolutely can’t resist you.

- He wouldn’t go public with anyone, but especially not with someone with whom he has such a significant age gap.

- It’s also a reason why he doesn’t want to tell people about your relationship. He’s very reluctant to introduce you to his friends and meet your loved ones.

- He knows his friends would absolutely not leave him alone with the age jokes. You can count on his buddies to make jokes about you having a daddy kink.

- Speaking of which… You’ve got a Daddy kink ? Well that’s too damn bad. Because he will absolutely puke if you call him that. Nothing gives this man the ick more than the thought of you being with him because of some unresolved daddy issues.

- That being said, he will absolutely activate his « dad mode » in some circumstances. He doesn’t even do it on purpose. It’s in the little things, like the way he scolds you for not wearing anything warmer or how he reminds you to call him as soon as you get out of the club.

- He won’t tell you what you should or shouldn’t wear but he’s not a big fan of you wearing anything that makes you look younger than your years.

- Speaking of looks… dating someone younger definitely makes him more self-conscious about his own appearance. It’s already hard seeing yourself age when you’re a rapper but dating someone younger makes it worse. It definitely has him second-guessing his outfit choices.

- And even though you tell him you like his fine lines and graying hair… he is not having any of that. Look at him using (and abusing) the dye and skincare.

- With time, though, he doesn’t think too much about the age difference. At least, he doesn’t obsess over it too much.

- But he will absolutely throw it in your face in an argument, maybe using it to call you immature or something. (Even if he’s the one being immature)

- That being said, don’t you dare pull that shit on him and suggest that you might indeed go for someone your age. He is pretty confident but he is terrified to lose you to someone younger.

- Deep down, his biggest insecurity about your relationship is that your life plans might not align. And even if you assure him that you’re on the same page, he still braces himself for the day you decide to leave him.

- You might be self-conscious too, given the fact that he is usually attracted to women older than you. But he always makes sure to ease your mind.

- As the relationship progresses, he allows himself to be more committed to you but his reluctance to go « public » might cause some issues.

- Ultimately, though, people around you are supportive of the relationship - even though some of them might have some initial doubts.

- Let’s be honest : the most stressful part is not your friends or his. It’s family. He is terrified of introducing you to his daughters. And his stress is communicative. Also, he’s not too eager to meet your parents. Because he knows exactly how he’d react to his daughters dating someone his age.

- He is not one to give in to PDA anyway but it’s even worse when there’s family around. This man will not be caught holding your hand or even staring at you too intently. Even if people know you’re together. He is guarded like that.

- His daughters might end up telling him there were « signs » that he was dating someone younger : like some newfound interest in a particular TV show, more skincare in his bathroom…

- People around him aren’t specifically bothered by the age gap in itself. But you might be subjected to more scrutiny. They’d be quicker to assume you’re in it for shallow reasons.

- But once you’re in… you’re in. If anything, his whole entourage will be even more impressed. They know that dating Marshall isn’t a piece of cake and they’re really impressed that you handled the scrutiny they subjected you to so well.

- The more time goes on, the less of a big deal the age gap becomes, to you, to him and to anyone else.

- The only reminders are the little harmless jokes and Marshall’s celebration of anything that proves you’re aging. You might be a little self-conscious about your first wrinkles but he’s lowkey relieved. Maybe he won’t feel like a creep. 🙊

#eminem #marshall mathers #slim shady #eminem fanfiction #eminem x reader #eminem imagine #eminem fluff #marshall mathers x reader #marshall mathers imagine #eminem head canon #eminem headcanon

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judes-hoe · 24 days ago

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Bound By Business

Summary ~ what will happen when Hazel’s dad needs to make an arranged marriage with the CEO of the company he’s trying to work with.

Warnings ~ non… yet😉

A/N ~ I’m excited for this series🤭🤭 (btw I am gonna use “I/me” instead of “she/her” for this series!)

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

I could always tell when my dad was about to drop something heavy on me. He’d get this look—calm, thoughtful, like he’d rehearsed exactly what to say but was still trying to get the words just right. “Hazel, sit,” he said, gesturing to the chair across from him. I smiled as I sat down, studying him for a beat. He looked the same as always—crisp suit, silver cufflinks, hair perfectly combed back—but something about the way he folded his hands gave him away.

“What’s with the face?” I teased. “You look like you’re about to confess to a murder.”

He chuckled softly. “No murder. Just something… complicated.”

The seriousness in his voice tugged at me. My dad wasn’t just a CEO—he was my dad, the one who taught me how to ride a bike, cheered me on at football games, and made pancakes on Sundays when he wasn’t drowning in meetings. The man who, no matter how busy he was, always found time for me.

“Alright,” I said, sitting up straighter. “Hit me with it.”

He took a deep breath, and for a moment, I saw a flicker of hesitation before he spoke.

“I’ve been having conversations with Jude Bellingham.”

I frowned. “Jude Bellingham as in… the Bellingham Enterprises guy?”

“Yes.” His gaze stayed steady on mine. “And I’ve been thinking. Jude’s an impressive young man—brilliant, disciplined—and I believe a marriage between the two of you would be… wise.”

The word marriage hit me like a boulder. I blinked. “Sorry, what?”

“A partnership,” he said gently, as though phrasing it differently would make it any easier to digest. “A secure future. Not just for us, but for you.” He paused before adding. “If you agree to do this, Mr. Bellingham will collab our companies together.”

I stared at him, searching his face for any sign of a joke. “You can’t be serious.”

“I am,” he replied softly. “But—” He raised a hand when he saw me open my mouth to protest. “But, it’s your decision, Hazel. No one will force you to do this. Not Jude, not me.”

He looked at me, and I saw something there that caught me off guard—hope, maybe even worry. My dad, the man who rarely faltered, looked genuinely concerned. Not for his company. For me.

I couldn’t speak right away, so I leaned back, letting the weight of his words settle over me.

“You’re really serious about this?” I asked finally.

“I am.”

“And you’d… respect my choice? Whatever it is?”

His face softened, the kind of expression he only wore when it was just the two of us, no business, no pretense. “You’re my daughter, Hazel. I love you. I just… I need you to think about it.”

There it was—the hard part. I didn’t have to say yes. I knew that. But my dad wouldn’t bring this to me unless he thought it mattered. And if it mattered to him, maybe it should matter to me too.

“Okay,” I said quietly. “I’ll think about it.”

He smiled faintly, almost relieved. “That’s all I ask.”

As I left his office, my thoughts were a tangled mess of confusion and frustration. My dad wasn’t a tyrant. He wasn’t forcing this on me. But somehow, that made the decision even harder to make.

Because deep down, I knew he really believed this was the right thing.

Back in my room, alone in thought, I needed another opinion. I pick up my phone and call my closest friend, Lizzie.

“Hey girl what’s up?” She said through the phone. “Can we meet up for lunch, we gotta talk..” I tell her seriously. “Our usual place?” She asked. “Yup.” I said, and like that the conversation was over.

~~~~

Arriving to the very familiar cafe, I see Lizzie sitting at our usual table. I walk over and sit across from her.

“I already ordered, so start talking.” She said looking at me. I tell her the whole conversation between my dad.

“Wow- that’s yeah..” she said looking at me. “Well, what are your thoughts on it?” Lizzie asked.

“Honestly, I love my dad, you know that. I just- do I really wanna get married to a guy I don’t even know for my dad?” I ask her.

“I’d say, go for it. It can’t be that dad, I mean if your dad said he’s a good guy, he must be, your dad wouldn’t just do this if he knew he wouldn’t be good for you.” She explained. Our food getting set down in front of us.

“I mean I guess you’re right, maybe it’ll be good for me too.” I said and start eating. We ate in a comfortable silence, Lizzie catching me up on what’s happened since our last lunch. Not before long we said our goodbyes. We both head to our cars and go our separate ways home.

~~~~

I walk into the house, slowly walking to my father’s office. Giving a gentle knock on the door when I stand in front of it. “Come in!” I hear him say.

“Hey dad.” I said slowly opening the door and standing there. “Hey..” he said writing on some paper work. “I’ll do it.” I tell him bluntly.

He immediately looks up from the paper work. “What?” He said thinking he was hearing things. “I’ll do it, I do the arranged marriage.” I swallow hard.

This is gonna be my life now.. lovely

“Oh, okay sweetheart.” He smiled. “I’ll call Jude sometime today, he said he’d like to go on a date if you said yes.” He spoke with a hint of excitement. I softly nod, “okay, just let me know.” I said before walking out his office, closing the door and walking to my room.

~~~~

A few days had passed by, my dad talking to Jude. He ended up giving my number to Jude so we could talk personally. Tonight, Jude was taking me out it a nice restaurant. He wanted to get to know me before completely marrying a stranger.

I wore a nice, dark red dress. About mid thigh, some black heels. Curled my hair, put on light makeup. I made sure I looked good before walk downstairs. The personal driver waiting outside.

I walk out, getting into the back of the car. The driver greeting me and making small conversation.

~~~~

After a short drive, we arrived in front of a fancy restaurant. The driver opening my door, I climb out and walk to the entrance of the restaurant.

I walk inside and immediately spot Jude. It was hard not to. He was the only guy dressed in an all black suit. I walk over and he sees me. Standing up and pulling the chair out across from him.

Gentleman…that’s good

I smile softly and thank him before sitting down. He pushes the chair in, sitting back across from me.

This is gonna be interesting… I think to myself…

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

Taglist: @sinners-98-world @seresingirlie

A/N~ might be awhile for the 2nd chapter as I’m trying to finish 1 series that only have like 1-2 chapters left. Also comment/dm/ask to be added to taglist!

#jude bellingham #judes-hoe😚#jude bellingham drabble #jude bellingham x reader #jude bellingham blurb #jude bellingham x you #jude bellingham fanfic #jude bellingham imagine #jude bellingham x oc #ceo!jude #jude Bellingham series

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tikosblogg · 5 months ago

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Night In

Summary: You and your best friend Noah have a criminal minds marathon night, but he seems to be having a hard time focusing.

Warning: smut. Pure filth. Dom!Noah, fingering. Swearing.

A/N: best friend Noah has me in a fucking choke hold. SOMEBODY SEDATE ME!!!🤪 it’s literally 2AM and this scenario popped into my head. I had to get it out before I went to sleep, because I definitely would have forgotten it by the time I woke up. Please enjoy. Let me know what you think 😉❤️

The sound of the water cascading down the tiled walls enveloped the bathroom like a warm hug, steam rising to blur the edges of the world outside the small sanctuary. I sighed contentedly, enjoying the solitude after a hectic day of work. The rhythm of the water was soothing, and I closed my eyes, allowing my mind to drift.

“Hey, Noah!” I called out, leaning my head back into the cascading water. “Can you come in here for a sec?” I heard his footsteps approach, the familiar creak of the bathroom door creaking open, punctuating the hush of the steam-filled room. “What’s up?” he asked, his voice smooth as it always was.

“Are you down for a Criminal Minds marathon tonight?” I asked, grinning to myself. It had quickly become a ritual of ours, binging on crime dramas and rolling our eyes at the absurdities of the plotlines while eating popcorn and drinking a few. “Yeah I’m down,” his voice had a slight edge to it, like he was only half-listening. I peeked through the steamed up glass, briefly catching a glimpse of him leaning against the doorframe, arms crossed, looking especially relaxed in his faded gray t-shirt.

“Great! I can’t wait to see The way you squirm at the creepy parts. It’s priceless,” I teased, letting out a laugh. Noah chuckled, but there was something else behind that laugh—a lingering silence that felt heavy in the air. I glanced over, curiosity piqued, and noticed he was staring, his gaze fixed on the glass shower walls where steam mingled with droplets of water.

“Hey, you okay?” I asked, playfully splashing water in his direction. He blinked, suddenly like a deer caught in headlights, the blush creeping up to his cheeks evident even from where I stood. “ yeah, just… can we talk when you get out? I’m literally getting hard watching you shower right now.” he admitted, bluntly. Scratching his head, his eyes darting away, though they lingered a heartbeat longer than necessary.

The realization of what he’d said hung between us, thick and charged. My heart raced, a cocktail of embarrassment and exhilaration flooding through me. “Oh,” I said, my voice barely above a whisper, the steam turning us both a little breathless.

“Sorry, it’s kind of hard not to,” he laughed. “You know, the fog and you look a little too good.” He smirked.

“Thanks?” I said, unsure of how to respond, a nervous laugh escaping me. He turned away, but not before I caught the evidence of his arousal pressing against his jeans. The tension shifted, electrifying the air around us, and I couldn't help but feel a spark of excitement there too, blurring the lines we’d always kept between us.

“Okay, I’ll be quick,” I assured him, suddenly hyper-aware of my own body and the droplets that clung to my skin. It felt like we had crossed an invisible threshold, yet neither of us was ready to acknowledge it just yet.

“Take your time,” he said teasingly, as he turned to walk out, pausing at the door. “But unless you want to be the one who has to explain why I’m walking around with a boner, I’d suggest you hurry.”

As the door clicked shut, I couldn’t help but laugh, a blend of nerves and something else bubbling beneath the surface. After rinsing away the day's fatigue, I stepped out, the warmth of steam swirling around me as I wrapped a towel snugly around myself. I glanced around, ensuring I was alone, a smile creeping onto my face at the thought of having the house to myself with Noah.

I rummaged through the pile of clean clothes thrown haphazardly on the counter and pulled out one of Noah's oversized t-shirts. It fell delightfully to my mid-thigh, the fabric soft and comforting against my damp skin. As I slid on a pair of underwear, I took a moment to admire my reflection in the mirror, feeling a sense of warmth at how casually sexy the ensemble was.

When I emerged from the bathroom, a wave of confidence washed over me. I found Noah lounging on the couch, the glow of the television illuminating his features as he flipped through the streaming options, searching for our show. His eyes flickered to me, and for a brief second, he froze, his brows raised in surprise before a smirk broke across his face.

“Nice shirt,” he teased, his gaze lingering on me, undeniably captivated.

I smirked back, walking over to where he sat. I could feel the weight of his attention on me as I settled down beside him, nestling into the cushions of the couch. The familiar opening credits of Criminal Minds began to play, and I grabbed the remote, easing into the comfort of the moment.

Noah’s laugh was warm, drowning out the eerie music of the show, and my heart soared as he pulled me closer, wrapping an arm around me. As the episode unfolded, I couldn’t shake the sensation of being completely at ease, my worries melting away like snow under the spring sun.

An hour passed, and I felt a subtle shift in the atmosphere as I found myself feeling sleepy. I shifted slightly, laying my head on Noah’s lap. His fingers instinctively began to run through my hair, a gentle and rhythmic massage that made me sigh contentedly.

The show continued in the background, but my focus blurred with every gentle stroke of his hand. It was surreal how strangely intimate we were being. We’ve always been pretty affectionate with each other, but this felt different. His touch sent a tingle down my spine, every movement igniting a sense of want that hung between us, unspoken yet palpable.

Noah looked down at me, his expression softening. “You know, you look really cute in my shirt,” he murmured, a hint of mischief dancing in his voice.

I smiled, meeting his gaze. “Maybe I should wear it more then,” I teased, running my fingers along the hem of the fabric as if weighing the option.

His laughter rumbled through his chest, and I could see the way his eyes sparkled. “Good. It looks better on you anyways.”

I chuckled softly, shifting to get more comfortable, feeling the warmth radiating from him. The room was dimly lit, the soft glow of the television casting playful shadows across the walls. The warmth of Noah's body provided comfort as I lay on the couch, my head resting on his lap while we both immersed ourselves in the latest episode of our favorite show. The world outside felt miles away, and for this moment, everything else faded into the background.

As his fingers tangled gently in my hair, an intimate motion that sent pleasant shivers down my spine. I closed my eyes, relishing the way his fingers moved. His fingers suddenly began tracing a path from my hair down my side. The sensation was feather-light, almost teasing, until they reached my hip. I held my breath as his fingers played with the edge of my underwear, a trail of heat left in their wake.

My heart raced at his touch. I couldn't help but subtly squeeze my thighs together, a simple reaction, but one that betrayed the flutter in my stomach. I felt the tension between us crackle like static electricity in the air.

"Y/n" his voice a soft whisper, breaking the spell for a moment. My name rolled off his tongue like honey, sweet and addictive. I rolled onto my back, gazing up at him, my head nestled comfortably against his thighs, practically blinded by the sheer intensity of his gaze.

He stole a glance at my bare thighs, a fleeting moment that made me feel exposed yet thrillingly alive. "What's wrong?" he asked, his brow slightly furrowing as if he was clueless at what he was doing.

I looked away, heat pooling in my cheeks blushing, perhaps, in both embarrassment and excitement. How could he be so nonchalant about this? His hand found its way up my stomach, slowly inching beneath my shirt, and I stifled a gasp, the softness of his touch causing the world around us to blur.

"Nothing," I murmured, though my voice was barely a whisper, betraying the whirlwind of emotions brewing inside me.

"Come on," he coaxed, his fingertips dancing just below the hem of my shirt. "What is it?"

A soft whine slipped from my lips without my permission, the weight of his teasing hanging heavily in the air between us. "You’re teasing me," I whimpered, frustration mingled with desire.

He chuckled softly, the sound vibrating in the quiet room, both comforting and maddening. "I’m not teasing...." The playful glint in his eye, combined with the authoritative way he pressed his finger over the front of my underwear, sent sparks through my core.

“What if I like it?” I blurted, the honesty spilling out before I could reel it back in.

His expression shifted, surprise giving way to something deeper as he leaned down closer, the air between us thick with unspoken words, and for the first time, I sensed that this moment was filled with endless possibilities .

With his finger still teasing me, he smirked, his warm breath ghosting over my face.“Then I won’t stop.”

Everything around us faded into silence, the television now just a distant hum.

His hand slid under my head, lifting it up slightly, as he leaned down capturing my lips into a heated kiss and it felt as if time slowed. The evening sunset filtered through the curtains, casting a soft orange glow over the living room. I was nestled comfortably on the couch, my head resting gently on Noah's lap. The hum of the world outside felt distant, as if time had slowed just for us. I could hear the steady beat of his heart, echoing the warmth that enveloped me.

His lips were warm and inviting, enveloping mine as if they were made for each other. I surrendered completely, allowing his tongue to glide against mine. It was an intoxicating rhythm that drew me deeper into the moment. I could barely catch my breath as his fingers swept under the hem of my panties, teasingly slow, until they found their way to my core.

I gasped against his mouth, breathless and desperate. My thighs instinctively fell open, making room for his hand, craving more. I whimpered his name, a plea wrapped in desire.

“What is it baby?” he murmured against my lips, his voice low and husky, igniting a spark of anticipation within me.

The teasing question sent my heart racing. I could sense the care behind his touch, but the intensity of the moment was almost overwhelming. In that instant, I wanted to drown in him, to abandon all reservations. I pulled back slightly, meeting his gaze. He looked at me, a mixture of curiosity and longing in his eyes.

“I just... I want you,” I confessed, my voice barely above a whisper. It felt liberating to admit it, to articulate the pounding desire that coursed through my veins.

He smiled, a teasing glint in his eyes, and his fingers continued their gentle exploration, igniting a fire that smoldered just beneath the surface. “You have me,” he assured me, his voice rich with promise.

With newfound confidence, I leaned into him, pressing my lips back to his, craving the connection that was building between us. His fingers continued their teasing, each touch sending ripples of pleasure spiraling through me, coaxing out soft gasps that mingled with our kisses.

His tongue licked into my mouth, tasting me. I knew we were stepping over an invisible threshold, reaching for something deeper, but I was ready for it. As his fingers stroked through my soaked folds, he finally sank two of them into me. He pumped his fingers slowly in and out, as I softly ground my hips against them.

His eyes left my face, focusing on his fingers now coated in my arousal, slowly disappearing over and over into me. His other hand left the back of my head, pulling my shirt up above my breasts letting them free. My nipples instantly hardened as the cool air hit them. Noah’s eyes raked up my body, until they landed on my heaving chest.

His big tattooed hand, groped my tits squeezing them , and rolling my nipples between his fingers. I groaned, slowly losing my mind. “You’re so fucking beautiful baby….your pussy is so fucking wet.” As soon as those words left his mouth, his fingers sped up. He crooked them up, hitting that spongy spot, as more pleasure bursts through me.

I gasped and whined, as his palm hit my sensitive clit over and over. “Noah please.” I begged, sounding breathless. “Please what baby? What do you need?” He asked, his voice soft but mocking. “I- I need to cum.” I stammered, as my end was nearing. His bottom lip disappeared behind his teeth, as his bit hard before speaking.

“Then cum y/n, cum on my fingers.” He groaned, trying so hard not to lose control. Without another word, I moaned out my hips stuttering against his fingers, as they fucked me through my orgasm. He removed his fingers, and pulled me upright, his eyes meeting mine with such an intensity that sent shivers down my spine.

“Come here,” he murmured, his voice a low growl that resonated deep within my throbbing core. I complied, eager yet shy, straddling his hips as I felt the heat radiating from his body. My face instinctively buried into the crook of his neck. The familiar scent of him—a mix of musk and something distinctly Noah—wrapped around me like a warm blanket, grounding and intoxicating at once.

His large hands gripped my hips firmly, guiding my movements as I instinctively began to grind against him. I could feel his hard dick pressing against me, igniting a deep fire within. He was huge. I whined softly, the sound muffled as I nuzzled deeper into his skin, desperate for more of this moment, more of him.

“Noah…” I breathed, feeling both exhilarated and vulnerable. He pulled my head back gently, his large hand wrapping around my throat in a possessive grip that both thrilled and terrified me. His eyes bore into mine, dark with desire and something deeper I couldn't quite place.

“Fucking look at me,” he said, his voice almost a growl, and full of command. His hips softly bucked up against mine, the material of his sweat shorts causing a delicious friction against my sensitive core. I met his gaze, my heart racing, captivated by the raw intensity of the moment.

And then, without warning, he closed the distance, capturing my lips in another heated kiss. It was a collision of want and urgency, igniting every nerve ending in my body.

His hips thrust upward again, drawing me closer, forcing my core against his in a way that sent waves of pleasure coursing through me. I moaned into his mouth, lost in the rhythmic grind of our bodies, the world outside completely forgotten. All that existed was him, me, and this intoxicating connection that burned brightly between us.

He pulled away, grabbing the hem of my shirt, and pulling it off swiftly. His eyes landed on my tits. His face dropped to my chest, teasing both of my nipples with his lips. My hands flew to the back of his head, gripping his short hair tightly.

He pulled back, wasting no time releasing his hard dick from his shorts with a soft sigh of relief. I almost drooled at the sight. He was definitely huge, and so so beautiful. The tip was bright red, already leaking. He must’ve seen the slight hesitation in my eyes, as his hand cupped my cheek, bringing my eyes up to his.

“You’re gonna take it right baby? And you’re gonna ride me, until I cum in that pretty little pussy right?” He groaned, his gazing burning into mine. The butterflies in my stomach were going wild with this new dominant side coming out of him. I nodded my head quickly, practically begging for it.

He shook his head at my lack of words. His hand now cupping my jaw, pulled me into him closer. “Say it.” He growled. Not moving until I spoke. I whined, my hips grinding harder against him. “Yes sir.” He smirked at my reply, pecking my lips softly. “Good fucking girl.”

He gripped my hips, pulling me up to hover over his dick. I gasped, as soon as the tip entered my core. It already felt amazing. He slowly pulled my hips down, further and further until he was completely bottomed out inside of me. “That’s it baby, just like that.” He moaned, pausing to let me adjust.

Before I knew it, his hips thrusted up, making me see stars. “Ohhh fuck Noah.” I whimpered, gripping his shoulders tight. He thrusted up again, his hips going at a steady fast pace as I bounced on his lap. “Fuck baby, you feel so good.” He moaned breathlessly.

He grabbed my hands, pulling them down, and forcing them back and crossing them behind me, as he held them together with one hand, he guided my hips with the other. My chest fell against his, as I gasped and moaned into his neck. His thrusts were hard, and fast. Almost knocking the breath from my lungs.

The hand holding my wrists tightened, as he bit down on my shoulder. “Noah fuck, please I’m gonna cum.” I groaned, as his hips sped up even faster. “Do it baby, please. Be a good girl and cum on my cock.” He panted, into my neck. That was all it took, my pussy instantly tightening around him, as I came for a second time.

I pulled my face from his neck, attacking his lips in a feral kiss. His thrusts became sloppy, as he finally came. His grip on my wrist tightened, the pain of it not even registering as I was too lost in the pleasure. He continued thrusting slowly as he fucked himself through it. His lips never leaving mine.

After a few short moments, he released me. Bringing my wrists to his lips kissing them gently. “I’m so sorry if I was too rough.” He whispered, against my skin before finally looking into my eyes. I smiled sweetly, cupping his cheeks. “I loved every fucking second of it.” He grinned, pressing his lips to mine, in a sweet kiss. “Me too.”

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luci-in-trenchcoats · 1 year ago

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Rainbow Bridge

Summary: The reader is incredibly confused when in heaven one day, a dog she's never met before appears by her side...

Pairing: Dean x reader (in heaven)

Word Count: 1,800ish

Warnings: language, mention of pet death/human death

A/N: I wrote this for my fellow pet owners (and myself). Hopefully those little dudes over the rainbow bridge have their own kinds of adventures like these pups while they wait! (and all the chicken nuggies they can eat 😉)

_______

The air shifted, a warm and joyful presence filling the air. You glanced down in your kitchen, an adorable dog with long fur and pointy ears staring up at you with a wagging tail.

“Well good morning to you, cutie,” you laughed, bending down in your pajamas with your cup of coffee, giving the dog a few pets. “Who might you be?”

The dog woofed and the thought Miracle sprang into your head. That wasn’t entirely uncommon. Animals in the afterlife were able to communicate a bit better than they had when you were alive.

One of your own dogs you’d had when you were alive, your first dog ever, bounded upstairs from the playroom on the lower level that was for them to use as a way station. Sometimes they liked to stick around home, sometimes by your side and others they’d go off and visit their own animal friends they’d made. But generally they kept to themselves first thing in the day.

“This a friend of yours, baby?” you asked your little dog. He ran over to Miracle, sniffing intensely before he snorted. “No huh. Did you just die, Miracle? I know sometimes dogs are a little confused when they get here and you got your young, healthy bodies back.”

Miracle woofed with a slight head shake, your lips pursing. Your own dog pawed at you, resting a little foot on your arm. You hummed at him, the little guy sending you some positive feelings, sensing you were worried.

“Alright. I’ve never heard of a random dog appearing in heaven unless you request one. You show Miracle around the house and where he can do his business while I get ready. Then we’ll try to figure out who your owner is, okay?” Both dogs yelped happily and took off downstairs, a loud crash at the bottom as they slammed into your boot tray. “Careful! Just cause you can’t get hurt doesn’t mean you can be reckless!”

More than one dog barked back in response and you rolled your eyes, heading for your bedroom.

“At least I don’t have to pay vet bills for you guys anymore. Five dogs is only kind of a lot for one eternity.” You heard more barking and groaned. “I wasn’t complaining you mongrels! I was quite pleased to see your little faces when I died. I could have done with a little less face licking though.”

You swore you could hear the faint echo of laughter in their barks as you got ready for the day.

“If I’m not back by supper make sure you boys get some dinner,” you called, heading outside with Miracle. You loaded into your car and headed down the road, thinking you had a problem. Soon you were taking an off ramp you’d not seen before. You wound up in a mostly empty parking lot, Miracle following you out and into the lone building around.

“Take an issue form and fill out everything before returning it to the counter,” grumbled the guy behind the desk, shoving a clipboard towards you. You stepped through the empty waiting room, picking up the board. You opened your mouth to speak when he sighed. “The form is a requirement by the big man. I’m just doing my job.”

“How do you have a job which is arguably the equivalent of working at the DMV, but in heaven? Like, we don’t have jobs.” He flickered his eyes up at you, making you jump back when they flashed black.

“Demon, sweetie. It’s part of my rehab program so I can someday be like you. By then, some other schmuck in the program will have my job. No more questions.”

“Okay…” you said, grabbing a pen and taking a seat, Miracle laying down on the floor beside you. You stared at the form, frowning when you didn’t see your particular issue listed.

“Um, excuse me, Mr. Demon,” you said, approaching the counter again, the guy rolling his eyes at you. “My problem doesn’t appear on the form?”

“That’s impossible. Those are the only issues possible of occurring in heaven.” You pointed at Miracle beside you, the guy standing to look down at him.

“I have no clue who this dog is and it’s not my dog’s friend. He just appeared next to me in my kitchen this morning,” you said. The demon stared at you, rubbing his temples.

“Remember your steps, remember your steps,” he muttered to himself before forcing a smile. “Listen. Dogs don’t get lost in heaven. Either you know his owner-”

“Nope. My dogs don’t recognize him.”

“Fine,” gritted out the demon. “Then you and the owner of this dog are soulmates in some way.”

You blinked at him, the man angrily typing on his keyboard.

“This dog belongs to a man named Dean Winchester. You and Dean Winchester were alive, somewhat, during the same time. He died a lot younger than you did. You two are…romantic soulmates,” he said, a fax machine going in the back. He got up and ripped off a sheet of paper, handing it to you. “Here’s his address. Now please go bother him instead of me.”

You rolled your eyes, ready to leave when you stopped, glancing down at Miracle. “Do you like, want to pet the dog?”

“Excuse me?” You turned around, the demon still on his feet.

“Well I mean, it’s probably been awhile since you’ve seen a dog or gotten to pet one. You can’t be that horrible if they’re letting you up here with the rest of us. So do you want to pet him?”

It was shocking how quickly the demon hopped over the counter and knelt down next to the dog, giving him a few pats and then a belly rub.

“I had a dog when I was a kid. I can’t wait to see her again once I get out of here,” he said, glancing up at you, seeming to forget he was a demon for a moment. “That was weird.”

“Dogs are kinda perpetually happy here and give off good energy. I’m sure your dog is looking forward to seeing you too,” you said as Miracle sat up and headed for the door. “Apparently I’m on the move. See ya around someday.”

“Yeah. Someday,” he said as you left. Five seconds later, now that you knew where you were going, you popped yourself over to this Dean Winchester’s place. You were standing outside a beautiful two story cabin on a lake, Miracle taking off in a sprint down a dock to where someone was sitting in a chair fishing.

Your heart felt funny as the man on the dock stood and turned around, cocking his head at you. He gave Miracle a good ruffle before he approached, meeting you halfway across his backyard.

“Hi,” he said with a smile, shaking his head. “I uh-”

You both jumped when your five dogs appeared, running and chasing around a ball in the yard, Miracle joining in after them.

“Your dog popped into my kitchen this morning. I’m pretty sure we’re soulmates. At least that’s what this paper says,” you said, the pack of dogs sprinting around the corner of the house. “I’ve had a few pups in my life.”

“Miracle could do with some siblings,” he said, smirking as you felt a cozy peace inside you. “I was wondering where he ran off to. He normally doesn’t stray far from home. Looks like he was off finding his mom.”

“I thought soulmates were supposed to like…snap together when they’re both in heaven,” you said. He smirked, pursing his lips. “What?”

“I probably wasn’t in heaven when you died. I was jumping around alternate worlds and you look very confused all of a sudden.” You nodded, staring at him wide eyed. “I’m a smidge of a rule breaker…and I kinda know Jack…and took down the old god.”

Your first instinct was to call him crazy but he had no reason to lie. Besides, something ached in his soul, like it had a little bruise on it. This man had known serious pain and then some when he was alive.

“You know, I killed vampires when I was alive. What’s something you did for fun?” he asked. Your jaw dropped, Dean chuckling. “Oh boy. Sweetheart, you and I have some catching up to do.”

“Hi baby,” you said that night as you and Dean laid on a blanket in the yard, your little guy crawling up on the blanket and settling in beside Dean. “Aw, he likes you.”

“He’s protective of you. I can feel it,” he said with a hum. “He hung out with your grandparents a lot after he died. Apparently while you were crying over him on earth, he was chowing down on some of your grandpa’s maple syrup bacon thinking mom’s being overdramatic, I’m gonna see her again. She worries too much.”

You sat up, raising an eyebrow. “How do you know that? My grandparents told me they were with him until my parents got here and he stayed with them a while but dogs can’t talk to us like that here. We can sense them and stuff but we can’t know complete thoughts.”

Dean smiled, scratching behind the dogs ears.

“Well, I’m a little special. I worked a case where I could communicate with dogs once. It came back up here. This little guy adores the fuck out of you and wishes you hadn’t been so sad back then but he understands. He is pretty awesome,” laughed Dean.

“And he’s a little shit,” you giggled. “What else does he say?”

“He’s glad you got more dogs over your life and he’s glad you found me finally. Also if we don’t stop talking soon he’s going to go inside and sleep on our bed,” chuckled Dean. “Cranky baby, aren’t you?”

The dog snorted, stood up, licked your nose and trotted off inside with his chin turned up.

“Like I said, he’s a sassy little shit,” you chuckled, Dean pulling you closer. “So Dean. What do you got planned for the afterlife?”

“A bit of fishing here and there. Working on my car. Going out for a drink at the roadhouse. Hanging with my brother. Sneak out of heaven to get up to shit every once in a while, hopefully with you. How’s that sound?” he asked. You leaned over and kissed him slowly, rolling back with a smile.

“Sounds like a plan, Winchester. Time to start having some fun in eternity.”

___________

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