#yes he looks terrifying in the dark with them
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Your Touch is my Scripture | Emperor Geta
Cw: ancient times (not 100% historically accurate pls don’t come for me) canon adjacent, darker themes, slavery, angst, smut, fluff, f!concubine!reader, reader is referred to as whore, oral, unprotected p in v (it’s like 211 AD duh)
5.5k words
The sun was bright, high in the sky, telling you it was about mid-day. Your robes were expensive, worth more than anything you have ever worn in the past. But you were at the Palace now. No longer would you need to endure tattered, rough, earth-coloured cloth. Now you get to enjoy the riches of luxurious silks of reds and purples and fine linens etched in gold embroidery.
A gold headpiece was pinned to your hair, curled and oiled for you. You got to be bathed in luxurious perfumes. Your face was pained and your lips reddened, your eyes lined with the dark kajal eyeliner you would not have recognized yourself if you had access to a mirror.
Yesterday, you were all but a present girl selling yourself on the street. How you fell into this situation was beyond your comprehension.
While you were scrounging for food, you spotted the royal carriage but paid no mind. That was until a guard came up to you and instructed you to come with him.
You were terrified, had they been here to arrest you? To sentence you for being a street rat?
You were looking around confused but see that from the carriage the emperors were gazing at you- Caracalla with a smug look on his face and Geta with a look of hunger.
You shiver at the memory, the way his deep brown eyes held your attention, his controlled gaze only broke once the carriage started moving once again.
You were instructed that you’ve been summoned by the Emperor, they didn’t specify which one but you had a hunch as that haunting look in his eyes never swayed.
You were brought to a council room, where many men of status, including the Emperors, sat in a semi-circle… what for, you didn’t know… but you would soon find out.
You waited until the Emperors were finished their conversation and you were led to them by the same soldier who plucked you off the street yesterday.
“Do not speak unless spoken to” he had instructed you a few moments ago…
“Ah yes, I’ve been waiting for you.” Geta couldn’t help but look you up and down.
To him, you had been perfect. He stopped the carriage immediately upon the very sight of you. He needed to have you, whore or not he would make you his.
When your eyes met, your breath hitched, stuck in your throat. He was beautiful, alluring, and yet- terrifying. You could feel the automatic pull to be near him, do whatever he wished. That is what you were here for, to be his newest toy.
You felt like you didn't have much of a choice when it was explained to you why you had been summoned to the place.
“You will serve his majesty however he pleases. You will have a roof over your head and food in your belly.” The soldier explained.
You hadn’t been whoring for long, but anything would be better than going hungry in the streets. You longed for food, your hunger took over any rational thinking and you agreed without taking more time to think about what you signed up for.
You had been shown the servant quarters, that’s where you met the other girls. There were five of them in the room when you entered, all equally beautiful. How you fell into this group was a mystery.
“Your Majesties” you curtsy, bowing your head. You’re very aware of the little coverage, the white sheer fabric, draped across your chest, leaving little to the imagination.
You’re the only woman in the room that you can see and the men were very aware of your presence, but you were for the Emperors alone.
“Even her voice is like honey” Caracalla muses.
“Yes, brother, a marvel, isn’t she?” Geta’s eyes sparkled as he examined you.
“What do we call you?”
“Whatever would please you, your Majesty.” You knew that was the correct answer when a knowing smirk spread across Caracalla’s face. A shriek of a laugh fills the room and others join to appease the rulers. Their power was clear. They commanded the room.
“Come, sit”
You were led to a throne and your eyes grew wide, no way he could expect you to sit there.
You look to Emperor Geta and he sits down and pats his thigh, beckoning you to sit down. With a sigh of relief but still a bit of unease seeing as though you just met him, you turn to place your bottom on his thigh.
The day was filled with excitement as two gladiators had been the source of entertainment. The shock and awe of the fight had Geta grabbing at you at each brutal hit. The way his fingers dug into your soft skin, how his grip tightened on your thigh had you squirming on the inside. Your calm and cool demeanour was all an act. He pulled you in closer; you draped your arm around his shoulder as you became more comfortable. His touch had been electric, his hand ran up your thigh if he went any higher, he would feel your arousal, praying it hadn't already seeped through your linens.
“Remarkable!” Geta praised the young warrior. His enthusiasm was contagious, as was his eccentric brothers. It was electrifying to be near that kind of energy for once. This new world was overwhelming but you liked being close to Geta.
After his conversation, he turns back to you. “Come,” he says with a smile, guiding you up the winding staircase to what you assume to be his quarters.
Once entered, he can no longer contain himself; he finds himself reaching his hands to your hips, pulling you in. He meant to offer you wine, but he couldn’t resist. You smelled of lilies and berries; he needed to taste you.
His kiss was rough but needy. He tasted of wine; you could have gotten drunk off of his tongue alone.
His hands slid down to your ass, and he gripped and massaged it, making you moan, forgetting this wasn't supposed to be about you.
“You’re going to be my good little pet aren’t you.”
“Yes, my Lord.”
“Get on your knees,” He pinched your bottom. “But first, discard your robes.”
The look in his red-rimmed eyes was sinister, as you obeyed the look deepened. Nothing could keep you from disobeying him, his command over you was all too powerful. This monster of a man was your commander, your Lord, and your life source.
“Perfect, utterly perfect.” He praised you as you knelt for him like a god.
His cock was hard already, and you hadn’t even touched him yet. You could feel through his robes he was thick, probably the biggest you have yet in encounter. His robes were discarded, and before you stood the most powerful man in the world, who ruled and owned so much land it was too much to comprehend.
He was greedy, so greedy and all you wanted was to give him everything.
You lean in and kiss the tip of his leaking cock.
“Yes, worship me” he grips your hair tightly.
You take more of him in your mouth and swallow down your gag. More and more you fit him down your throat until you can’t breathe.
A low curse leaves the Emperor’s mouth as you pull back.
“You’re a dirty little whore aren’t you”
“Yes.”
“Yes, what?” He scolds.
“Yes, my Lord”
“Better. Now get on the bed”
He smacks your ass as you pass him and it makes you squeak out a giggle.
The sound of your laugh startles Geta, it makes his heart flutter and he isn’t sure what to make of it. He shoves the feeling down, deep down. Ignoring it.
“How do you want me, my Lord?” You stand before him, in front of the lush bed.
“Worship me” he looks down upon your naked body, nothing about him in this moment was human. It was all pure primal need that flowed through his veins.
“Lay down for me, my Lord.” You smirk and he listens.
You crawl over him, your hands roaming his alabaster skin as you glide your slick core over his reddened hard cock. Over and over you glide on him until you decide to let him slide into you with ease. You were right. Your pussy has never been stretched out this much. Luckily the hours of teasing was enough to have him stretch you out with little pain.
Geta loved the way your jaw went slack when he stretched you out. His face said it all as you looks down at him. A smile spreads across both of your faces when you start to move.
“Fuck, yes” he sighs.
Never had a woman made him feel this good this early on. He’d been inside of you a whole of 10 seconds and he’s already ready to blow his load.
“Sorceress” he curses you, accuses, you. Your cunt was otherworldly- magical.
You could feel the familiar tension building, forgotten was your duty to the man beneath you.
“I’m going to cum” you whisper under your breath as your hips rock on His Majesty.
It almost slipped past the Emperor’s attention, but you say it once more, only a little bit louder this time, as your pussy clenched.
“Stop!” Geta demands. However, you’re too lost in the feeling that you don’t hear the command.
“Stop at once!” The emperor pushes you off of him. He doesn’t understand what you just did, he’s never had that feeling while in a woman. It scared him, he was bewitched by you. You were a temptress, an enchantress, a Cantatrix.
“Your majesty, did I do something wrong?” You were more terrified than confused. The other girls had warned you about his moods.
“Get out!” The veins in his neck bulged out, his face reddened with rage.
You don’t argue, you don’t say another word. You pick your garment off the floor, put it on and silently walk towards the door trying to hold your head high.
“And send in Fauna instead” he spat.
You turn around quickly, not wanting to the the hurt slip from your eyes. You don’t look at him.
“Yes, my Lord.” You curtsy with your head down. Shame filled you and you tried not to sob as you ran down the empty halls.
Once you reached your quarters you shook Fauna awake and begrudgingly told her she was up. She looked at you confused but quickly patted down her long thick black curls and made her way to him.
You didn’t understand where or what went wrong. You thought you had a connection, chemistry. Your mind was clouded, he had felt so good beneath you, and you couldn’t understand why he pushed you off. He hadn’t said anything- he was enjoying himself, you were enjoying yourself. So where had you gone wrong?
Weeks passed and Geta hadn’t sent for you, nor Caracalla. You were getting worried you’d be kicked out into the street. Why house and feed a whore when she’s of no use to you? You had little to no money. All you had left was the gold ring that belonged to your father, and you were not about to give that up if you got kicked out into the streets.
Your name being called startled you, and you were lost in thought, braiding Aurelia’s hair. You stand up immediately.
“Ouch!” You hear her and giggle a sorry before one of the emperor’s guards escorts you.
Thrill filled your veins at first, but then dread quickly followed. Worry and anxiety seeped through your veins as you made your way down the corridors.
The walk down the torch-lit hallway is quiet, only the echoes of your barefoot steps can be heard bouncing off the walls.
The guard pounds on the door three times you flinch at how loud it is.
A muffled “Enter” is said aloud, you look to the guard he gives you a taut nod before he turns to get into position for the evening.
With a quick sigh, you hesitantly open the door.
“Disrobe.” He didn’t bother to look at you.
He was standing in the corner of the bed chamber by his wall of scrolls. Floor-to-ceiling rows upon rows of papyrus filled with stories you could only imagine. What you would give to be taught how to read?
Clearly what is written is more interesting to him than to you. You try not to feel offended as his eyes don’t stray from the page. You need to show him you’re worth keeping. That you are worth wanting.
You cannot help yourself but want to please him. You will get past this silly little obsession you’ve created, and get over how much you want him to notice you. You’re a whore. Nothing more will ever come from this.
You obey his instructions, and your body shivers as the cool breeze of the midnight air kisses your skin. Your nipples can’t help but perk, but you’re not sure if that is due to the sudden loss of warmth or the way His Majesty is looking at you. Those eyes, his deep cinnamon eyes gaze into you like he is the lion and you are his prey.
“Come here, Sorceress.”
Your heart races and you slowly step towards the Emperor.
“You seem nervous” his voice is calm, yet assertive.
“I don’t want to fail you this time, my Lord” You bow your head and your long wavy hair falls with it, covering most of your body,
“What you said last time” he clears his throat, “you are wrong.”
“Apologies, my Lord, I know not which you are addressing?” You look back up.
“Women do not orgasm. They cannot, it is not in their nature. Where you heard of these lies is unbeknownst to me. You were giving the wrong information.” He said matter of factly.
Your stomach swirled as his eyes didn’t break contact with yours. That is why you were thrown out like a piece of trash? Why for weeks you’ve been trying to see what it was you did?! Because you said you were going to cum?
You didn’t know what to do. Your internal battle was clear on your face as you debated if picking this battle was worth it. You could show him a new world or he could kick you out immediately, once again.
“Spit it out then.”
“I-I am sorry, my Lord. It will not happen again. My intent was not to deceive you.” You lower your hard once more like a scolded puppy, knowing that the one perk of this gig will never be fulfilled.
“Good girl, now get on the bed.”
The night went as you expected. You were brought to your knees at first, then you were upon his lap, just like last time. Only this time you kept your mouth shut.
It was hard, so hard to not cum for this man. How could he not understand women also could orgasm? Had none of the other girls? And if not, why has none of the other girls shown him? You don’t understand, but you will not bring it up. You want to be good for him. You need to stay here in the palace.
Your eyes burned with tears as you tried to get him off before you accidentally did. You had to before you cried out in pleasure…the pleasure you so desperately want for him to know that he is giving to you- that he will not let you have. You want to cry out how he is the one who makes you feel this good. How it is his cock that hit all of the right places. You fight the urge to play with yourself as you ride your Emperor.
“Come for me, my Lord.” You test the waters.
This seems to be okay, he smiles at you for the first time since the first day you met.
His beautiful face relaxed as he released himself within you, pinning you to him as the euphoria washes over his whole body. You’re dismissed immediately after, as expected.
Day and night, he calls for you, and only you. All hours, most hours you are with him. Weeks passed, and the other girls were becoming snippy with you, to which you didn’t know why- it’s not like they would be getting off with him as they did with each other. They all served Caracalla between them. They got a break; they got to share.
However, it was you and him, alone for hours. You don’t know how you would feel if he didn’t ask for you. Hurt and jealous, most likely. You were bonded to him. Wanting to please him but not being able to please yourself or what you wanted, for him to please you, it was torture, night after night, going to him. Pleasing him and knowing your silly feelings would never be reciprocated. He showed no compassion, he would fuck you either in your cunt or your ass. Depending on his mood sometimes both, yet, you can’t shake this desire you feel when you think about him. When you’re accompanying him in the day when you lay with him at night. Some days, he would have you in his bed for hours before he got up and went to work, others he would have your draped around him while holding council.
You were consumed, borderline obsessed, but how could you not be when he was your only source of company?
As expected, you had been summoned after supper. When you arrived, you sensed that something was different.
Geta didn’t say a word as you greeted him-he didn’t command you to strip, but you know the routine so you disrobe and approach his Majesty.
His back is turned to you but this doesn’t stop you from leaning up to kiss his neck. To touch him, to praise him.
"How will you have me tonight my Lord?"
His stiff body didn’t move, he didn’t make a sound until you made your way to face him and you gasped. Pulling away you could see the look on his face was pure anger. This is what the girls had warned you about all those months ago.
“I must apologize.”
That was not what you had expected. You didn’t say a word as you let him explain.
“I was having a chat with Macrinus, and he informed me that you were right all along. But I still don’t believe you…or him.”
“My lord, I do not follow?” You whisper, scared he will lash out.
“Come.”
You take a step towards him, not wanting to upset him.
“No, I mean, cum for me.”
Your breath hitched, eyes going wide. This was not what you had expected.
“My, Lord.” you gasp.
“Show me, teach me.” His voice became gentle, you would say almost venerable if you hadn’t known any better. “Please.”
“Y-yes, your Majesty.” You take his hand and lead him to the bed.
You lay down in front of him, and he leans down to kiss you. You have kissed him before but something about this time feels different, like the feeling is being reciprocated. His body slowly mimics the routine that you do to him night after night. His makes his way down your neck, you’re scared to make a noise for him. But the feeling of his plump lips has you slithering out of your skin to react.
“Is it not good?” He pops up, genuinely concerned.
“Yes my Lord, it’s very good” you reassured him.
“But- but you’re not reacting.”
“I didn’t think-“
“No!” He bellowed but realized his mistake when you flinched away from him.
“Please do,” he said much softer…like he wanted to do a good job for you.
You silently nod your head and he continues from where he left off.
His lips glide over your burning skin, a soft moan leaves your lips and you feel him smile like he’s won.
Sex for Geta is always about him, that is how it should be. That was how it was taught to him. ‘The man’s pleasure is how life is created,’ he remembers his father telling him. Nothing was ever mentioned about how the woman was to feel during it. So night after night, years of silent fucking and only thinking about himself, this new territory was exciting.
When you moaned it set off something in Geta’s head, he wanted more. Needed more.
He brought his mouth to your perked nipple, and you arched yourself into his touch. The feeling of his tongue rolling around your sensitive bud sent waves through your body down to your dripping core.
The smallest of touches from him made your head spin as you had hardly gotten them in the past. Having the Emperor touch you like this had you reeling for his touch.
A long drawn-out moan left your lips as his teeth scrapped at your perked breast.
“Oh, you like that, huh?” He murmured into your hot skin.
“Yes. Very much” you sigh.
“Good…now-um- what should I do?” His venerability, slipping.
“Touch me” you take his hand to your clit. “Here”
“My god, you’re soaked.”
“Yes”
“Just form that little-?”
“Please” you begged. No more questions, you needed him to pleasure you.
You move his fingers on your clit in circular motions until he gets the tempo. Your hips are moving with his hands, telling him he’s doing a good job.
“Does that feel good?”
“Yes- now add a finger or two, inside”
Geta slipped his fingers inside but didn’t stop circling your sensitive clit.
You were so close, he could sense it, he felt your walls contract against his fingers like they did the first time you two fucked, but this time he didn’t pull away.
“I can feel you, Sorceress.”
“I’m so close, don’t stop, you’re perfect”
Geta’s heart fluttered at your praises, only this time he doesn’t swallow down the feeling.
“I will never stop pleasing you, that’s all I want, is to please you.”
How could this be? He is the emperor, you are nothing, a concubine who’s tricked this being into falling for you. He tricked you along the way as well.
“Geta” you let slip, and he doesn’t even reprimand you because in that moment is the most beautiful sight beneath him.
His hands were like magic, how dare he be holding this back from you this whole time.
Your orgasm rippled through you. Weeks of denied pleasure bursting from your womb making your body shake and your throat cry out.
Nothing has ever felt so good.
A soft giggle passes as you come down from your high and Geta gazes at you in shock and wonder.
“My little entrance. Cantatrix” he leans down to observe your pussy. It was wetter than he thought possible and the smell, he was addicted. He can’t help himself but bury his nose in you for more. He lets his eyes roll back with a grotesque moan. He needs to taste you.
“Yes, I’m yours. Only yours.”
You both knew what that meant. The countless nights of sex, the endless glances when he holds council, the silent communication, the hours he kept you in his chambers. The way he hates to be away from you, how he needs you by his side through the day even if he knows he can’t have you he wants you.
You both know that he can’t bring himself to ask for another girl.
It’s all understood by your words and that terrifies him, but the urge to please you is so much greater than his fear.
“I must have you” he kisses your pussy deep and passionately. His tongue explored your sopping cunt, the taste of you will be burned onto his tongue.
You can’t help but roll your hips into Geta’s tongue. Grinding on his face, your hands run through is hair, tuggin the roots. A soft moan leaves your lips and Geta can’t get enough of you.
“Take me” you plead.
Deeper he pushes his tongue into your cunt he can taste your cum coat his tongue. How he had been so wrong for so long. Not knowing the taste of a woman pleasure could be so addicting.
You can’t help pulling his face into your core. His nose brushes your clit over and over as you ride his face.
“Take me, take me” you release your grip and he pulls away. Your slick covers his lips and chin, but he leaves it so your sent is coated on him, his sinister smile shines towards you.
He grabs his thick cock and aligns with you. Never had Geta gone with long without being touch before sex, he had to hold himself back from plunging into you. He knows his size, and he doesn’t want to hurt you.
You open your legs wider so he can ease his way into you. Geta watches as his cock ploughs into you. Over and over you chant his name like a prayer. He watches you breast bounce with each thrust, and now he thinks he’s discovered his new favourite position with you. Out of all the months you’ve spent tangled up together, never have you been on your back for him. Why? He is not sure because his cock is burred so deep.
He doesn’t break eye contact as he thrusts himself into you. The weight of his body on top of your makes you feel that much more connected.
“Tell me, Cantatrix, who you belong to?”
“You, my Lord, only you.”
His hips worked into your cunt with such intention, needing to feel your pussy cum onto him.
Nobody had ever made you feel like this, and nobody else ever would.
“Come for me again!” Geta begs, his voice is so desperate and needy, as he thrusts into you. Your hands are planted on his ass guiding his hips into you as your bodies roll into each other as one. He was your saving grace, your lover, and the unspoken little bit more.
You can’t help but moan with your head thrown back arching your breasts into him. The sweet sounds coming from his lips are what you silently plead for. You feel every finger he places on you. His hands planted themselves upon your hips. Moving your body so effortlessly that he can’t help but beg. He needs to feel you come for him. To know that he’s the only one who can make you feel so much euphoria that he never knew existed before. You were the woman that broke the curse for him, the woman that he rescued in the streets, his collection, his prize. You owe everything to him, and he will take what is his. You are his.
“Cum for me, I demand it. As your Lord, your Emperor. Cum” he grits through his teeth, holding back his pleasure.
Your body can’t take the build-up any longer, you listen to him, and you release all that’s within you. Your second orgasm is just as strong as the first one. His words and his commands are what pushed you over the edge. You will give him everything he wants of you.
The feeling of your cunt squeezing his cock like a vice has Geta cuming seconds after you. Never had he thought a pussy could feel more pleasurable, more perfect than yours in that moment.
Geta and you both had been so worn out of the night’s events he didn’t ask you to leave, he offered you some wine and with a bright smile on your face you accepted. You got up to stand, but you were greatly surprised when he insisted he be the one to serve you.
You talked for hours after, about your childhood, how your father was a soldier in the conquest of the empire, and how he had been killed 3 years prior. Your mother tried her best but she fell ill a year ago and it took her quickly thereafter. You had been selling yourself since then.
Geta told you about his life as well. He spoke to you as if you’ve been friends for years. It was as if the veil had fallen between you. No longer was he this intimidating mountain of a man. He was Geta, a young man who has the world at his fingertips, and the responsibility you wouldn’t wish upon anyone.
You fall asleep in the wee hours of the night wrapped around one another, you never slept better.
You woke before him, you didn’t want to ruin the magic of what last night brought so you snuck out and back to your quarters before he awoke.
Geta was disappointed when he saw you were not sleeping next to him, but he was too busy with the day’s events at the Colosseum to dwell on it any longer. He must get ready.
It was pretty early in the day, the games were supposed to run late, so you had time for yourself for a little while. The girls were still giving you a cold shoulder so you kept to yourself.
Your name is called, “You’re being summoned.”
You know better than to ask questions. You collect yourself and walk the corridors with the guard. You know the route by heart however your stomach turns when you try a left instead of a right.
“May I ask who has called upon me?”
“The Emperor.”
A sigh of relief exists in your lungs. Maybe he is in another room you’ve not been privy to.
The guard leaves you at the door when you knock to enter.
“Come in” The voice was not who you were expecting.
Your eyes widen only for a slight second with shock before you collect yourself.
“Your Majesty” you bow your head to Caracalla.
“My my, you are truly magnificent. No wonder my brother has been hogging you.” He smiled.
“I am flattered, your Majesty.” Your voice shaky.
“Shall we” he motions to the bed and you try and fake your way through this while your stomach is in knots.
“May I ask you one thing before we begin?”
“Of course” he nods his head.
“Why are you back so soon? I imagined the games would still be going on at this time?”
“There was an incident with roge arrows”
“I hope everyone is all right.”
“Not to fret, now I get to spend more time with you.”
“Quite right, your Majesty.” You agree.
And so you began.
Geta was in his room when he heard a knock on the door. He was waiting for the guard to bring you. He needed to blow off some steam from the assassination attempt on him and his brother today.
“Apologies, your Majesty, she was not there.” The soldier regretfully informed.
“What do you mean she was not there? Where is she?”
“With Emperor Caracalla, my Lord.” The guard regretting to be the one to inform his Highness.
“Like hell she is!” Geta bellowed.
The Emperor pushed past his loyal guard and stormed through the corridors of the palace.
You were draped over Caracalla’s lap, bouncing on his cock when the doors swung open with a bang and scared you half to death.
“Get off of him at once!”
You froze, not knowing what to do. The two brothers had equal power over you, so who did you obey?
“Brother!” Geta bellowed out.
“My my brother, what is the matter, I am only enjoying what has yet to be promised to me.” Caracalla sits up into his elbows
“She is mine.” Geta physically pics you up off of his brother and tosses you to the side so hard you can’t find your footing.
“Brother, what has gotten into you? You act as if she is your betrothed.”
“I- I …” Geta had no answer as to why you made him act the way you did. Only that he feels everything for you but is not sure how to control these feelings deep within.
“I think I understand bother… but you and I both know that can never happen.”
“You speak of buffoonery.”
“But is it? Otherwise, why would you interrupt us the first time she is taken from you?” Caracalla was no fool, and he knew his brother better than anyone else. “I will not touch her again if that is what you desire, brother.”
“It is,” Geta growled.
“Very well, I shall call upon Julietta instead.” He shrugged.
Geta turned to you finally, and you hoped he would take you to his chambers.
“Come.” He was curt, and you followed silently.
He was still seething by the time you reached his quarters, but it wasn’t until you were in utter privacy he began his scolding.
“How dare you lie with him!”
“My, Lord-“
“That’s right! I am your Lord. I am your master and you will only serve me!” His face redden.
“Yes, my Lord.”
“Is that all you have to say for yourself?”
“What is it you wish for me to profess, my Lord?”
“You left me this morning. You didn’t even leave a note.”
“I couldn’t,” you said shamefully.
“Oh right, you’re just some uneducated present girl I plucked off the streets.” he scoffs.
“You’re right!” you scream, and Geta is taken aback. Never have you spoken to him with such power. “That is what I am! I don’t know what more you want from me?! I have given you everything! All of the parts of me! My wounds, my pain, my suffering, my love, my affection, my ass, my womb!” You cradle the small bump.
How had he not seen? Hint noticed? Had he not understood you have been with him every night and not been through your courses yet? You’ve been here for months, and not once have you bled.
Geta looks down to where your hands are pressed against your stomach and back up into your eyes.
“Is it true?” Instantly his demeanour flipped. It only takes him three large strides to face you to place his hand atop yours.
“My cycle has yet to come since I have been here.”
You watched as Geta did the math in his head until a look of shock then glee spread across his face.
“How far along?” he cradles you in his arms.
“Three or four months,” you suspect.
“Remarkable” he whispers. “utterly remarkable.” He takes you into a lustful kiss. “Now you are a part of me forever.”
“Is that what you desire?” You fight back the tears.
“It is, my Cantatrix. I have yet to find the words, but you are my light in this dark heart of mine.”
“Geta…” you test the waters.
“Only once I have heard you sing my name, and it is more beautiful than the last” He picks you up and carries you to the bed.
“I…”
“Tell me.” His brows furrow with worry.
“I think I love you.” You peer up at him through your lashes.
Your heart feels like it's going to burst from your chest it is beating so fast that it must not be good for the baby.
You’re a fool to admit such emotions. You want to take it back; you must take it back your thoughts are cut off when Geta’s lips meet yours.
He might not be able to say it out loud. However, this kiss tells you everything. You’re his everything.
If things were different, he knows he would make you his Empress, he yearns to have you rule by his side, but you can give him the next best thing.
A child. His first child, whom he will cherish and adore, even if they will be of the lower class, he does not care.
“Tell me you are mine,” Geta hums into your skin, his hands groping at every inch of you.
“I am yours, my Lord.”
“Geta” He sighs into the kiss. “I am your, Geta.”
“My, Geta?”
“Yes, Cantatrix, your Geta.”
Tag list: @3rd-conchord @everandforeveryours @minamoomoo @gothicloverdream @hippiegoth97
@songbirdmunson @hauntedfawnn @rafescorpsebride @mediocredreams @cxrrodedcoffin
@hellfire--cult @strangerstilinski @floredaqueen @loserboysandlithium @lesservillain @hellfirenacht
@oneforthemunny @allthingsjoeq @jamdoughnutmagician @bunnyhargrove @rebelfell @sexmetaleddie
#emperor geta x reader#emperor geta x you#emperor geta smut#emperor geta x female reader#emperor geta x f!reader#emperor geta fanfic#emperor geta angst#emperor geta x y/n#emperor geta x oc#emperor geta fic#Spotify#gladiator ii#gladiator 2 smut#gladiator 2 fanfiction
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Ma'am?
A/N: corporate sukuna? corporate sukuna. i'll prolly write vairation of this trope bc AWOOGA sukuna y'know? prolly will do so for every jjk character.
Warnings: throat fucking, sukuna being a bitch, head m receiving. MDNI please
The office was a jungle.
A concrete jungle.
But no one was hunting for food; they were hunting for approval, for survival, for a scrap of Sukuna's attention.
And in the heart of that jungle, towering above them all, was he.
Ryomen Sukuna—CEO of one of the largest, most cut-throat companies in Japan. His reputation preceded him like a storm cloud. The mere mention of his name sent chills down the spine of every employee who dared to think they’d make it through a day in his domain without breaking a sweat, or worse—getting fired.
“Have you heard?” Kiyomi, a junior analyst, whispered from her desk, clutching her coffee like a lifeline. She lowered her voice, even though it was a quiet afternoon and there was no one around. “I heard he’s married.”
“Married?” Aiko, another analyst, shot her a confused look as she swiped her phone screen, pretending to scroll but listening in. “To who? I thought the man hates relationships-actually scratch that, he hates people.”
“Doesn't matter. There’s a ring on his finger.” Kiyomi bit her lip. "You know what that means, right? He’s off-limits."
Off-limits? Sure, that was one way to put it. But the rest of the office had a much darker understanding of that marriage rumor. To them, it wasn’t just about a wedding band, but a symbol that Sukuna was untouchable—immovable.
Unpredictable.
The man did wear that ring, though, right on his left hand, never taking it off, but no one had ever seen the woman, never a whisper of a wedding ceremony.
“What if he just... wears it for appearances?” Aiko’s voice dropped to a near hush. “You know, to keep the gossip under control?”
“That’s what I’m hoping,” Kiyomi muttered, glancing over her shoulder, making sure no one was close enough to overhear. “Because if he’s really married…” She let out a shaky sigh, “I might not survive another quarter here.”
*-*
At exactly 3 p.m., the elevator doors on the 40th floor opened with a soft ding. And like clockwork, the entire office went silent.
Everyone’s eyes snapped to the corner of the room, where a massive figure appeared.
Sukuna.
No one dared to breathe for a moment, not even the janitors, as his heavy footsteps echoed across the marble floors.
At 1m99, his sheer size was intimidating. Every inch of him screamed power. His muscular frame filled the space, dressed in a tailored suit, yet his tattoos—dark, swirling designs that peeked from under his cuffs and collar—seemed to be more noticeable than the fabric.
“You’re late, Fujiwara,” he growled to a passing employee who flinched under his icy gaze. “Do you need another reason to leave this company? Or do you want me to just take care of it right now?”
“Y-Yes, sir, I’m—sorry,” Fujiwara stammered, backpedaling towards the exit like a deer in headlights.
“I don’t care for excuses,” Sukuna continued, his voice as cold as steel, his eyes like twin pools of black ink. His gaze swept over the floor, calculating, judging, consuming.
The employees who remained at their desks pretended to be engrossed in their work, but there was a palpable tension in the air. Every movement felt watched, every word spoken under his scrutiny could mean a one-way ticket out of the company.
"He’s so... terrifying." Kiyomi whispered, her voice cracking slightly.
“He’s a monster.” Aiko gulped, barely able to keep her voice steady. "And you know what's even worse? The rumors say he enjoys it. He wants to watch people suffer."
Sukuna’s presence dominated every room he entered. His eyes narrowed as he walked past the open cubicles, his every step causing a ripple of discomfort among those unlucky enough to be near him. He didn’t even need to speak to command attention—just existing in a room was enough to put people on edge.
“Isn’t he a little... too ruthless?” one of the assistants whispered to another. “I mean, I get it. He’s CEO. He inherited this place. But surely—"
“Don’t.” The second assistant’s voice dropped to a hushed whisper. “You don’t want to finish that thought, trust me. One wrong move around him and you might find yourself with a pink slip by the end of the day.”
*-*
Aiko was sitting at her desk, trying not to flinch when Sukuna’s shadow loomed over her. She didn’t even dare to look up, fingers hovering nervously over her keyboard.
Sukuna smirked at the woman’s obvious fear. “Aiko, isn’t it?” His voice was smooth, but there was an edge to it that made her stomach drop.
“Yes, Mr. Sukuna,” she stammered, face flushed.
“You’ll get those reports to me by 5 p.m., won’t you?” His tone was playful, but the underlying threat was clear. "Or I’ll find someone else who can."
Aiko nodded frantically, her hands shaking as she tried to type faster.
Sukuna chuckled under his breath as he turned to leave, casting one last glance at the team.
"Good." He nodded once before walking away.
Aiko exhaled, barely holding back her tears.
*-*
Sukuna had inherited the company from his father, and since the day he’d stepped into his father’s shoes, things had gotten worse. More ruthless. More unforgiving. But people feared that about him, and it worked.
"He's not human," Kiyomi whispered later that evening, trying to calm her nerves. "You can't get to his level without... losing something."
"You don't think he's capable of love, do you?" Aiko asked quietly, but the words didn’t sound hopeful.
“I’m not sure,” Kiyomi replied, the thought sending a chill down her spine. “But I do know this: anyone who’s close to him... they’ve got to be a different breed. If he’s married, then she’s got to be the same way. Cold, ruthless... Like him.”
No one knew the truth. Not really. Not about the marriage. Not about the ring. Not about anything.
But one thing was for sure. When it came to Sukuna, everyone walked on eggshells. Everyone was afraid of what came next. Everyone had one question they couldn’t answer: How long until he decided to wipe us all out and start fresh?
And no one wanted to find out.
*-*
A week later and the morning was painfully normal. Quiet keyboards clicking. Muted whispers about deadlines. The faint hum of the AC.
Then Sukuna walked in.
As usual, his presence snapped the room into silence, every employee holding their breath like they were collectively trying not to summon a demon. Which, frankly, he already was.
A demon in a three-piece suit.
But what Sukuna did next wasn’t normal. It wasn’t even in the realm of normal.
“Everyone in Sector C,” Sukuna barked, his voice slicing through the office. “Conference room. Now.”
The collective look of horror on their faces could have been a painting. One poor intern dropped their pen. A junior manager let out a soft squeak, thinking they were about to lose their job before lunch.
Ten minutes later, the Sector C team (a mix of finance, HR, and customer service) crammed into the massive conference room. Sukuna stood at the head of the table, arms crossed, his biceps straining against the fabric of his suit. He looked like he was ready to fire half of them.
His two secretaries, Hana and Renji, hovered nearby, shuffling papers like they were preparing for war.
“You’re all going to listen, and listen carefully,” Sukuna began, his deep voice rumbling through the room. “This afternoon, there will be… an event.”
Renji froze mid-scribble. Hana’s mouth opened slightly, then closed, her pen slipping from her hand.
“An event, sir?” someone dared to ask, their voice trembling.
“Yes, an event,” Sukuna said, his jaw tightening. “A group of middle schoolers will be touring this floor. They’ll be here for approximately…” He glanced at Hana, who still looked like she was buffering.
“An hour and a half,” Hana croaked, her voice cracking.
The room erupted into a soft buzz of confusion, employees whispering amongst themselves like this was some kind of fever dream.
Middle schoolers? Here?
Sukuna had barely tolerated adults in his company. And now kids? The same man who fired someone last week for coughing too loudly in a meeting? Kids?!
“Quiet,” Sukuna snapped, and the room fell silent again.
“Why is this happening?” someone whispered under their breath.
“Because I said so,” Sukuna growled. “Do you have a problem with that?” His crimson eyes flicked to the poor soul who had spoken.
“No, sir,” they muttered, shrinking into their seat.
An hour later, the chaos descended.
The elevator doors opened with a ding, and out poured a gaggle of middle schoolers, all wearing matching uniforms but carrying vastly different levels of energy. Some were wide-eyed and curious, others looked half-asleep, and a few were very clearly menaces to society.
“This is insane,” Kiyomi whispered to Aiko from her desk.
“What kind of parallel universe is this?” Aiko hissed back. “Do you think he’s finally lost his mind?”
The two secretaries were scrambling like their lives depended on it. Hana was frantically trying to guide the kids, while Renji kept muttering about insurance liabilities under his breath.
“Please stay in line,” Hana pleaded to the kids, who were already scattering like cockroaches.
“Stop touching that!” Renji hissed as one of them reached for a decorative vase worth more than their entire school budget.
It was utter chaos. Employees were frozen in their seats, unsure whether to intervene or pretend none of this was happening.
“OI!!”
The voice cracked like a whip, freezing everyone in their tracks—including Sukuna, who had just appeared at the end of the hallway.
A woman stormed into the center of the chaos, her tone so sharp it could cut steel. She was wearing a smart but slightly rumpled blouse, her hair pulled back in a loose ponytail. Her eyes blazed with authority as she turned to the unruly middle schoolers.
“The next one of you kids who gets out of line,” she snarled, “will be suspended for a week. Do you understand me?!”
The kids immediately fell silent, shuffling back into a loose formation, muttering apologies.
“Sorry, sensei…”
A collective gasp swept through the office. The employees had never seen anyone, let alone a teacher, shut down a crowd so fast.
Kiyomi’s jaw dropped. “Who… is that?”
Aiko stared, wide-eyed. “Whoever she is, she’s terrifying. Almost worse than—”
“Ah,” Sukuna said, and his voice rumbled like a distant storm.
The teacher—the woman—turned to face him, and the employees collectively braced for Sukuna to unleash his wrath.
But what happened next nearly broke their brains.
Her scowl softened into a bright smile. “There you are!”
The employees watched in stunned silence as she walked up to Sukuna like she’d known him forever. Like he wasn’t a 1m99 hulking nightmare with tattoos and a kill-you-if-you-breathe-wrong glare.
“Thanks for letting us come here on such short notice,” she said warmly, standing on her toes to kiss his cheek. “I know it’s not what we planned, but you’re a lifesaver.”
Sukuna smirked—smirked—and placed a hand on her lower back, pulling her closer with a surprising gentleness.
“Tch. I wasn’t going to let you take them to that other place.” His tone had softened, though it was still laced with possessiveness. “They don’t deserve you.”
The office collectively lost their minds.
“That’s her,” Kiyomi whispered, clutching her chest like she’d just witnessed a ghost. “That’s his wife.”
“No way,” Aiko said, eyes bulging. “She’s… she’s…”
“She’s terrifying,” someone muttered from behind them.
“And he’s into it.”
The employees watched in horror and fascination as Sukuna and his wife exchanged a few more words. She even laughed, a sound so warm and genuine that it felt like it didn’t belong in the same universe as Sukuna.
“Alright, kids!” she called out to the group, clapping her hands. “Behave yourselves, or you’ll be writing essays on why discipline matters. Got it?”
“Yes, sensei!” the kids chorused, their earlier chaos completely subdued.
As the tour continued, the employees stared after the couple, whispering furiously amongst themselves.
“She just kissed him like it was nothing,” Kiyomi hissed.
“And he let her,” Aiko added, still in shock. “No, he looked… happy.”
Renji appeared out of nowhere, looking as pale as a sheet. “I need a drink,” he muttered, collapsing into the nearest chair.
“That’s his wife,” Hana confirmed, rubbing her temples. “And if anyone ever tells her no, we’re all dead.”
It was official. Sukuna wasn’t just terrifying. His wife was even scarier. And somehow, that made them the perfect pair.
*-*
The house was quiet when Sukuna stepped inside, the sharp clack of his shoes against the marble entryway echoing faintly. The faint smell of something decadent lingered in the air—earthy, rich. White truffles, he recognized immediately, the corner of his lips quirking up ever so slightly.
He shrugged off his coat, tossing it onto the back of a nearby chair, and loosened his tie with a quick tug. His body ached from the day—dealing with incompetent employees, herding a pack of middle schoolers through the office, and keeping his temper in check while his wife grinned at him like she wasn’t the most maddening woman alive.
But god, he loved you for it.
“Welcome home.”
The low hum of the central heating filled the room as you plated the pasta, careful not to let it cool too much. Your voice was soft, lilting, as you emerged from the kitchen wearing an apron over a loose sweater and sweatpants. Your hair was pinned back, but a few strands framed your face, giving you a warm, effortless beauty that always caught him off guard.
“Hm,” he grunted, his red eyes flicking up to meet yours. The tension in his shoulders eased immediately. “Smells good.”
“Fancy pasta,” you said with a grin, walking toward him. “Your favorite.”
Before he could respond, you stood on your tiptoes and kissed him—soft and sweet, your lips warm against his. Sukuna leaned into it, his hand sliding around your waist to pull you closer, his large palm splaying across your back.
“You’re spoiling me,” he muttered against your lips, though his tone betrayed no complaint.
“You deserve it,” you replied, brushing your thumb along the sharp edge of his jaw.
A couple minutes later, Sukuna’s massive frame filled the dining chair as he scrolled through something on his phone, his brow furrowed in that signature grumpy way of his. Even at home, the man radiated intensity.
“Dinner’s ready,” you called softly, setting his plate down in front of him.
He looked up, crimson eyes softening for a fraction of a second when they met yours.
“This smells good,” he muttered, his tone still gruff, but you could hear the warmth beneath it.
You smiled, leaning down to press a gentle kiss to his temple. “Only the best for you, my love.”
Sukuna huffed like he wasn’t affected, but the way his lips twitched gave him away. You knew better than anyone how soft he could be when it was just the two of you.
Dinner passed in quiet comfort. Sukuna ate with the kind of deliberate efficiency that only he could pull off, twirling the pasta around his fork in smooth, calculated movements. Occasionally, he’d grunt something about the flavor—his way of complimenting you without outright saying thank you.
“You’re spoiling me,” he finally said, wiping his mouth with a napkin and leaning back in his chair.
“You deserve it,” you replied, smiling as you reached for your wine glass.
He raised a brow at you, smirking. “Don’t think I didn’t notice your little power move today. Bringing your class to my company? On short notice?”
You chuckled, leaning across the table to steal a sip of his wine. “I couldn’t exactly take them to your competitors. Besides, they got to see the best in the business.”
Sukuna snorted, shaking his head. “They were brats.”
But the corner of his mouth lifted into a rare, genuine smile, and you couldn’t help but lean in to kiss it. His lips were warm and slightly rough against yours, and the way he cupped the back of your neck to hold you there made your heart flutter.
You leaned across the table, pressing a lingering kiss to his temple before taking his empty plate. Sukuna let you, too tired to argue, though he did smack your ass lightly as she walked past him toward the kitchen.
“You’re trouble,” you called over your shoulder as he un-bashfuly admired you.
“And you love it,” he shot back.
*-*
Later, you both settled on the couch, the fire casting a warm glow across the room. Sukuna sat at one end, his legs spread casually, a pair of thin reading glasses perched on his nose as he went over some documents.
You sat curled up at the other end, your gaze flickering between the fire and him. It was a rare sight—your intimidating, hulking husband looking so... domestic. His hair was slightly mussed, and the soft light highlighted the sharp planes of his face, with glasses perched on his nose.
The glasses made him look… softer, somehow.
More approachable. But there was still that edge to him, that raw power beneath the surface that made your heart race. His strong hands gripped the papers, veins prominent along his forearms, disappearing under the rolled-up sleeves of his sweater- that you maybe-kinda-sorta wanted to bite really hard.
“Are you staring at me again?” he asked without looking up, his deep voice pulling you from your thoughts.
“Maybe,” you teased, crawling over to his side of the couch. “You look cute in glasses.”
“Cute?” He scoffed, glancing at you over the rim of his frames. “I don’t do cute.”
“You do my kind of cute,” you countered, settling between his legs and pressing a kiss to his jaw.
“Hmm,” he hummed, pretending to go back to his papers, but the slight tilt of his head told you he wasn’t really focusing anymore.
You smiled against his skin, your lips trailing down his neck. The tattoos that marked his body were like a map you’d memorized long ago, and you traced one of the intricate lines with the tip of your tongue.
“What are you doing?” Sukuna grunted, his voice rougher now, betraying the effect you were having on him.
“Thanking you,” you murmured, your hands sliding up his chest, feeling the solid muscle beneath his shirt. “For letting my students come to the office. It meant a lot to them—and to me.”
Sukuna let out a low grunt, leaning back into the couch. “They were brats.”
You laughed. “They were kids.”
“Same thing,” he muttered, though his hand found its way to your thigh, his thumb brushing lazily over the fabric of your sweatpants.
You smiled, leaning up to kiss his cheek. “Well, thank you anyway.”
His hand came up to your cheek, tipping your face so you had to look at him. His gaze was heated, but there was a softness there too, a silent vulnerability that he only ever showed to you.
“You don’t have to thank me for that,” he said, his thumb brushing your bottom lip.
“I want to,” you replied, your voice dropping lower as you kissed his palm.
His jaw tightened, but he didn’t stop you when your kisses moved lower. You worked your way down his chest, undoing the buttons of his shirt one by one until his tattoos were fully exposed.
“Greedy woman,” Sukuna muttered, though his voice was thick with arousal now.
You didn’t answer.
Instead, you kissed along the sharp lines of his collarbone, your tongue tracing the inked veins and intricate markings on his skin. You felt the way his body tensed under your touch, his breath hitching ever so slightly as you continued your descent.
By the time you reached the waistband of his slacks, Sukuna had abandoned all pretense of reading. The papers were forgotten on the coffee table, and his hands were buried in your hair, guiding you gently but firmly.
“Such a tease,” he grumbled as you kissed just above the fabric, your fingers grazing his hip bones.
You looked up at him through your lashes, your lips curving into a smile. “Patience.”
“Tch,” he growled, but his hips lifted slightly when you tugged his slacks down, revealing the hard length of his cock.
You started slow, your tongue tracing the prominent veins along his shaft, savoring the way his body responded to you. Sukuna’s hands tightened in your hair, his chest rising and falling with heavier breaths.
“Fuck,” he hissed when you finally took him into your mouth, your tongue swirling around the tip before moving lower.
You worked him with a mix of gentle suction and firm pressure, using your hands to stroke the parts your mouth couldn’t reach. His gruff moans filled the room, low and rough, and you couldn’t help but feel a surge of satisfaction every time you hit a particularly sensitive spot.
“Damn it,” he groaned, his head falling back against the couch. “You’re too good at this.”
You hummed in response, the vibration making him shudder.
You didn’t respond—not beyond that anyway. Instead, you took him deeper, your nails digging lightly into his thighs as you worked him over. His breathing grew heavier, his muscles tensing under your touch, and you could feel the faint tremble in his legs as he fought to keep himself in check.
His hips bucked slightly, and you relaxed your throat to take him deeper, earning a sharp inhale from him.
His nails dug slihtly in your scalp and the head of his cock hit the back of your throat- with bruising force.
“Shit—” he hissed, his head falling forward as his hand tightened in her hair. “You’re gonna ruin me, woman.”
She pulled back just enough to look up at him, her lips swollen and glistening. “You deserve it,” she whispered, pressing a soft kiss to the base of his length- then against his tip, before taking him back in.
Sukuna let out a low, guttural groan, his free hand gripping the armrest as his control slipped further.
When he came, it was with a deep, guttural growl, his hand gripping your hair as his body tensed. You swallowed everything he gave you, pulling back slowly and licking your lips as you looked up at him.
Sukuna stared at you, his crimson eyes dark with lingering heat. “You’re gonna kill me one day,” he muttered, his voice hoarse.
You crawled back up to him, pressing a soft kiss to his lips. “You’ll survive,” you teased, curling up against his chest.
He wrapped an arm around you, pulling you close and pressing a kiss to the top of your head. “Yeah,” he murmured. “I’ve got you to keep me going.”
The two of you stayed there, tangled together in the warm glow of the fire, the world outside forgotten.
A/N: *sighs* sukunaaa arghhh i wanna eat him.
Masterlist.
:)
#jjk#jujustu kaisen#fluff#jujutsu kaisen sukuna#sukuna#sukuna x reader#ryomen sukuna#sukuna ryomen#jjk sukuna#jujutsu sukuna#ryomen x reader#jjk ryomen#jujutsu kaisen ryomen#sukuna ryomen smut#sukuna x you#sukuna smut#sukuna x y/n#modern au#corporate sukuna#sukuna being sukuna#domestic#office romance#jjk smut#jujutsu kaisen x reader#jjk x you#jjk x reader smut#jujutsu kaisen smut#jjk fic
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transferring to a new university was nerve-wracking. but finding out on day one that there was no dorm room for you? even worse.
apparently, some glitch in the system left your name off the dormitory list. and now, there wasn’t a single open spot on campus. you wanted to cry, but calling your parents and worrying them was the last thing you wanted to do.
so you spent the entire evening scouring for solutions. a faculty member pointed you to a site where students looking for roommates could post listings, and by some miracle, you found one that seemed decent. the description was short but to the point: “apartment near campus. one room available. quiet. no bullshit.”
it wasn’t exactly the warmest ad, but beggars couldn’t be choosers. you sent a text, got a short reply, and now here you were.
standing outside the apartment door, your arms ached from carrying a heavy box of books and sentimental junk while your suitcase full of clothes sat by your feet. you hesitated for a second before knocking. the moment the door opened, you almost regretted your entire life.
a tall guy with white hair, scarred skin, and heavy-lidded, almost dead-looking eyes stared back at you. his presence was so intimidating that your first instinct was to turn and run back down the hall. but you froze instead, staring up at him like a deer caught in headlights.
“is touya here?” you managed to squeak out, trying your best not to sound completely terrified.
he raised an eyebrow. “speaking. who the hell are you?” his voice was deep and rough, his tone sharp enough to cut.
“i-i’m y/n. your... roommate? i applied here two days ago, we spoke over t—”
“oh. right.” he cut you off, scratching the back of his neck. “didn’t think you’d be here so damn early.”
if you didn’t know better, you’d think he was complaining. but then again, it was 7 a.m. if anything, you must’ve woken him up.
“ya need help with all that?” he asked, gesturing toward the box in your arms.
“uh, yes... please,” you said, relieved and surprised he even offered.
he grabbed the box with one hand like it weighed nothing, and you followed him inside, dragging your suitcase behind you. he set the box on the dining table and kicked the door shut behind him. the place was neat. not spotless, but cleaner than you expected. the furniture was simple, dark-colored, and kind of mismatched, giving the place a weirdly manly vibe.
“bathroom’s down the hall,” touya said lazily, pointing. “kitchen’s over there. don’t leave your shit everywhere. and that’s your room.”
he gestured toward a door at the end of the hall, and you followed him inside. the room was small but tidy. the bed was bare, just a mattress and a pillow, but it was clean. there was a desk and a small closet, too. it doesn’t look like anyone’s ever stayed there.
“anyway,” he muttered, turning to leave. “don’t make too much noise. i don’t like loud people.”
six months later, you’ve realized that living with touya had been an adjustment. at first, there were awkward “hi” and “bye” exchanges, brief encounters in the kitchen as you grabbed a granola bar or nuked leftovers in the microwave. he wasn’t much of a talker, which was fine because you weren’t either. not to him anyway.
but then, slowly, things started to change.
it began with shared dinners. a random night where you’d made too much pasta, shyly offering him some because it felt wrong to eat in front of him while he sat on the couch scrolling through his phone. he’d taken the plate with a gruff “thanks,” but the next night, there was an extra bowl of ramen waiting for you when you got home from class.
from there, it spiraled into routine. dinners became a shared activity, a small tradition where you’d sit across from each other, trading sarcastic comments and the occasional genuine laugh. somewhere in between, touya went from your intimidating, scar-faced roommate to your closest friend. you told him everything now—your classes, your crushes, your petty grievances. he listened, mostly. sometimes, he’d even chime in with advice, though his tone always bordered on teasing.
so when you burst through the door that night, cheeks flushed with excitement, it felt natural to dump the day’s events onto him. touya was already on the couch, two bowls of noodles on the coffee table. his lips quirked into a small smile as he watched you kick off your shoes and drop your bag haphazardly by the door.
“guess what?” you beamed, practically bouncing onto the couch beside him, knees brushing his thigh. “some guy asked me out today!”
his smile faltered, but you didn’t notice. you were too caught up in recounting the story, your voice light and animated as you detailed every little moment.
touya’s grip on his chopsticks tightened. he forced a small chuckle, though it sounded strained.
“can’t believe this actually happened!”
“yeah, well… it’s about time,” he muttered.
but you didn’t hear the sarcasm laced in his words. you were too wrapped up in your own excitement, oblivious to the way his jaw clenched or how his gaze lingered a second too long on your face.
he should’ve been happy for you. he told himself he was. roommates didn’t catch feelings, not ones like this. and yet, every time you smiled at him like that, so sweet and innocent, he felt like the air had been knocked out of his lungs.
the days blurred after that. you went on your first date, then your second, then your third. touya tried to convince himself it was fine. this was fine. he was just your roommate. but you started coming home later and later, your absence stretching into the kind of silence that made his skin crawl.
the noodles he made for you—carefully cooked just the way you liked them—sat untouched on the counter, growing cold as the hours ticked by. he’d find himself sitting on the couch, staring at the door, half-hoping and half-dreading the moment you’d walk in, cheeks flushed with the afterglow of another date.
he hated it.
he hated him. the guy you wouldn’t shut up about, the one who’d taken up too much of your time, your attention. it should be him you’re coming straight home to after school.
touya couldn’t stand it anymore.
he barely needed to put in the effort. you were so trusting, so sweet, and all that innocent yapping gave him everything he needed. your schedule, your habits, even the places you liked to study or hang out. all it took was one stop after his own classes ended to track him down: the library.
the guy was just sitting there, headphones in, engrossed in his laptop.
by the time touya was done talking to him, the guy was pale and nodding, muttering weak promises to do as he was told. touya left the library without a backward glance, his mind already on you.
he got home with enough time to spare, pulling out the instant noodles he knew you loved, the ice cream he bought on the way back. he even set the table, everything arranged just the way you liked it. he’d planned it all perfectly, down to the minute.
and then the door creaked open, and there you were.
he already expected it but it still hurt nonetheless when he saw you—eyes red and swollen, your lips trembling as you tried to hold yourself together. the faintest sniffle escaped, your hands clutching the strap of your bag like it was the only thing anchoring you.
“he broke up with me,” you choked out, voice cracking.
and he almost regret what he’s done. almost.
you didn’t have to say more. he crossed the room in an instant, pulling you into his chest. his hoodie smelled like laundry detergent and faintly of cigarettes, and you buried your face into the fabric, tears soaking through.
“it’s okay,” he murmured, his voice low and soothing as his hand rubbed slow circles on your back. “he’s an idiot. didn’t deserve you anyway.”
his lips brushed the crown of your head, a gesture so soft, so tender, it made your heart ache in a different way.
you melted into him, his arms the safest place you’d ever known. and as he whispered quiet reassurances, a small, satisfied smile tugged at the corners of his lips.
this was how it should be. you, in his arms, leaning on him, trusting him. he’d make sure it stayed that way. you were his, even if you didn’t realize it yet.
© 2025 shinig6mis | do not plagiarize, repost, or translate any of my work.
#𝐍𝐄𝐘𝐒𝐀 𝐖𝐑𝐈𝐓𝐄𝐒 ꩜ .ᐟ#bnha x reader#yandere#boku no hero academia#my hero academia#mha x reader#soft yandere#yandere touya#yandere dabi#yandere x reader#yandere touya x reader#yandere dabi x reader#soft dabi#yandere bnha#yandere mha#dabi x reader#touya x reader#touya todoroki x reader#touya todoroki x you#dabi x you
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The Intern: Small Talk with a Dead Man
After a dramatic realization during Christmas break, Y/N has been peacefully trying to live her life without the influence of the Batfamily. One night after classes, she is visited by an old friend...
*Fluff*
Prequel: Death of a family
The Intern: Day one
The Intern: The Laughing Fish
The Intern: Busy Work
The Intern: Outreach Gala
The Intern: Teachers Pet
The Intern: Visiting an old friend
The Intern: Chemical Valley
The Intern Small Talk with a Dead Man
The Intern: Billionaire Boys Club
I shouldn't have been surprised. TV broadcasts. Google Alerts. The radio guy who complained about Gotham's newest Crime lord during my morning commute. A few local news stations dared to ask, "Is Red Hood more dangerous than the Black Mask?"
Despite all those warning signs, my heart stops when I see him again. A flash of lightning illuminates the man across from me. The signature Red Helmet drips rainwater on my ratty tan carpet. The towering man is far from the mischievous teenager I once knew. Judging by the watercolors across his knuckles, he must have driven from patrol.
From the corner of my bedroom, my phone vibrates on the nightstand. Dick's grinning face covers the screen. I hurriedly decline the call. Tim's face makes an appearance. The screen goes black. I drag my gaze back to the dead.
"Hatchling?" Jason observes motioning to Tim's contact name, "What's Damien's? Infant?"
I pause to think about it. What did I make Damien's?
"Sassy pants... with several angry emojis." I elaborate showing him the contact.
"Ahh... fitting for a child raised by assassins."
The room feels too small. Stuffy even. After years of dreaming of what I'd want to say to him, I blank. The helmet drops to the floor with a thud. His voice breaks.
"I'm sorry. I didn't know where else to go."
That breaks me out of my stupor. Crossing the room, I shush him.
"Take this jacket off before you track any more water in. My landlord is terrified of mold."
Reluctantly, he lets me peel the wet leather away from his goosebumped riddled skin. The hulking man slumps towards my touch. In the darkness, I can almost forget how long it has been.
How many nights did we do this? Bruce starting a fight. Jason sneaking in through my childhood window with a devilish grin.
"I figured I've already disappointed one father figure. Why not disappoint them both?"
The image of his charred corpse flashes in my mind. Some memories don't age well.
A well-timed thunderclap shakes me back to the present. My Jason had blue eyes.
"Go sit in the living room," I command throwing a towel in his direction, "Do you want tea?"
"Yes please." He agrees following my heels, "Do you have-"
"The usual? " I interrupt with a sly backward glance, "Who do you think I am?"
I almost blush at the look he gives me. Good God. My back turns to face him while I turn the kettle on.
Which mug do you give a dead man?
I correct myself.
Which mug do you give a crime lord?
I look past the cluster of random holiday cups to my shining star. A brand new Superman mug complete with a washable cape napkin. Water. Green Tea and chamomile bags. A little bit of honey.
While I set everything up, Jason studies the collage of photos on my wall. Some from Gotham. A mix from school. His eyes fall upon a selfie of Dick, Alfred, Barbara, and I. Encrested on the frame, it reads, "Jason Todd Memorial 2022". My throat gets tight. It seems so meaningless now. Leaning against the kitchen counter, I analyze the man. The new uniform is much more outwardly utilitarian than his Robin costume. No more shorts. The guns are new. He had set a few in a cluster on the coffee table. Jason takes a postcard from the collage in his hands.
"George Clooney?" He muses turning over the card, "Dick always had a flair for the dramatics."
"It runs in the family," I retort setting down his mug on the table.
As I draw near, he smiles at the choice of mug.
"I didn't realize that you picked sides."
"Alfred sent it to me as a peace offering," I shrug.
I motion to the brown patched-up couch. Jason eagerly reclines. His body stiffens at the strange lumps towards the center.
"Courtesy of Ma Kent," I joke, "I'm convinced she lined it with kryptonite, so Clark wouldn't jump on it."
Rubbing his sore shoulders, Jason grimaces sitting up.
"Well, I'm sure this is the only couch that could cause the Man of Steel back pain."
Sitting next to the sweaty young man, I sip on my own tea. The bitterness of the green tea grounds me to the present.
"Do you want to talk about what happened in Gotham tonight?" I question glancing at the freshly bandaged cuts on his arms.
He shakes his head grimacing at the memory. New City. New topics.
Grabbing the remote, I start, "What are you feeling tonight? I've been aching to rewatch "You're Next" for a while."
He eyes me with playful suspicion. Jason folds his arms behind his head.
"What? I've always found scary movies comforting after a long day."
"Like the way you find Ma Kent's Couch to be comfortable?" He teases fidgeting with the coarse fabric of the homemade pillow.
The random stains make him raise an eyebrow. Thunder shakes my apartment.
"It's an acquired taste." I reply pulling the pillow flush against my chest, "Besides, horror is the only genre where your anxiety is always right, but the horror never stays for too long. It’s nice to see the Protagonists survive to the end of their story."
For a moment, he looks like my Jason again. The slight bruising around his left eye causes him to squint ever so slightly, but he flashes me an amused smirk. His fixed gaze never leaves my face. I start to sweat. What if he thinks of me differently? Five years is a long time. We've both changed.
"You watch too many movies." He remarks offering me half of the blanket.
I snuggle close allowing myself to enjoy this moment. A flash of lightning illuminates the small TV screen.
"That is probably true." I reply lying my head on his shoulder.
The exhaustion of the day compounds until the opening credits fade into black.
Taglist: @nosyrobin,@jjsmeowthie.@epicy0n,@gaychaosgremlin,@rory-cakes,@luna-zendra-star,@b4tm4nn,@anuttellaa,@chibiduck
#jason todd x reader#batfamily x reader#batbros#batfamily#batfam#batman#red hood#red hood x reader#bruce wayne#dc x reader#jason todd#nightwing x reader#nightwing#tim drake#batfam x reader#batfans#batfamily headcanons#batman comics#dc imagine#dc comics#dc universe#dcu#dick grayson#alfred pennyworth#superman#superman x reader
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💚What Did You Expect?💦
A terrifying experience on the empty subway line causes you to piss your pants from fear- well, if you had any pants, that is.
A fic where Jimmy holds a gun to your head and steals your panties. ♡
Features: Jimmy x Reader
Tags: Female Reader, Gun Play, Omorashi/Pee, Fear Wetting, Noncon, Assault, Fear, Dark Themes, Panty Stealing, Psycho Pervert Jimmy tbh LOL
“Give me your panties.”
Not what you were exactly expecting from your gun wielding assailant, but then again, it was 3 am, and you were a girl alone on the empty subway. What did you expect?
“Hurry up,” He says, his deep voice cuts through the quiet ambiance of the desolate station. He's holding the gun in his jacket pocket. You look at him with a dumb, shocked expression, not really knowing what to do. There was no one else on the line- if you called for help it's not like anyone would hear.
“Do you think I'm joking?” Your wide eyes dart to his pocket, where allegedly the metal barrel of a gun is pointed right at you, his thick finger dangerously resting on the trigger.
Allegedly, you think. He could be some loser pervert just trying to scare girls out of their panties. Do those kinds of guys really carry around guns?
“Are you fucking dumb or something? You're gonna make me act like an ass, aren't you?” He says, before pulling the gun from his pocket and pointing it directly at your head, just an inch from your temple.
Yes, yes they do carry around guns and they're very fucking real.
“Give me your panties.” He repeats again, so calm and collected that you almost feel stupid for shaking like a leaf, suddenly broken out of your frozen stupor.
“Okay, okay!” You throw your hands up out of fear, palms up. “I'm sorry, please, please don't kill me-” You say, hot tears now pouring down your face.
You're thinking of home, how you just want to be in your bed right now, warm and safe, anywhere but here. You want to be somewhere without the tall dark man looming over you. Trying to block out the image of your pale body found on the stained cement floor in the morning, your hands shake violently as you reach up your skirt and pull down your underwear, almost tripping as you try to get them from around your ankles.
He snatches them from your hands and shoves them in his jacket pocket.
“Please, please, please,” You sob, your nose running, “Please let me go home now,” Your voice trembling harder than you knew possible. You accidentally look down as you feel a tiny dribble of hot liquid trail down your thigh, not realizing how badly you were trying to not piss yourself from fear until now.
Your attacker follows your gaze, predator eyes focusing on the little drop of pee.
“Fuck,” He laughs, teasing and incredulous, like you're the dumbest thing in the world.
He lowers the gun from your head, promptly placing it to your now bare pussy. Your back is pressed to the cold tile wall, cowering away from the man's presence. The gun is cold as he rubs it in lazy circles around your clit, pushing rougher when he hears you whimper. You're looking anywhere but at him, nowhere to go as he slips the gun further back before he slaps the barrel against your cunt- makes a lewd noise as it hits your flesh. He rubs it around your hole, so much pressure and panic that you finally piss yourself, hot liquid clinging to your thighs as it gushes loudly onto the cement floor, spraying out from around the cold black gun.
He lets out another mean spirited chuckle as he looks at the dark puddle formed on the ground, shakes a drop of piss from his gun, and starts to walk away. But he stops, and turns back towards you.
“You know it's not real, right?” He says, giant grin on his face.
You look up at him with big wet eyes.
“Wh-what?” You say dumbly.
“It’s not real.” He shakes the gun in his hand, like it's the most obvious thing in the world. “It's plastic.”
You're sniffling, fidgeting with your skirt. Your socks and shoes are wet.
“You don't believe me?” He waits a second for a response, before coming close to you again.
“Put your hands out. Go on, do it.” and fearfully you do, place both shaking hands out in front of you, struggling to not squeeze your eyes shut and just disappear.
He places the gun in your hands.
And it's light.
You can see the plasticky sheen clear as day now, so clearly, obviously a toy. You pissed yourself and handed your panties over to a stranger because you were scared of a toy gun.
Your face flushes an embarrassed pink, a new batch of wet tears runs down your face, sobs escaping your lips in heavy shakes
“Aw, c'mon, don't cry. It's kinda funny if you think about it, y'know? See, you're fine.” He takes the gun up from your hands, gives you an almost playful nudge on the shoulder, and finally walks away. You wipe your snot on your sleeve as he leaves you there in a puddle of your own piss. Pantiless and humiliated.
#jimmy x reader#jimmy mouthwashing#dark fic#mouthwashing x reader#proship f/o#my fics 🧸#darkfic#cw noncon
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read his story and crode theres a big flood in my house now
#honkai star rail#star rail#honkai star rail fanart#hsr fanart#hsr art#boothill#boothill hsr#hsr boothill#boothill leaks#yes i hc he had big red eyes before turning to a cyborg#yes he looks terrifying in the dark with them#yes gray and nick got jumpscared thrice because of this#im just a red eyes boothill truther#need more angst of this man NOW!
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Had a brainworm the other day and now it's taken over like my entire personality for the last few days
#shadow#shadow the hedgehog#dark shadow#sth#sonic the hedgehog#sonic stuff#doodles#also im sorry about the watermark and size#blame tumblr's AI bullshit#i dont trust them#so now all my art's gonna have to look like this#sorry#also just realized it says squidkid11 and not squidkid15#(for context i go by squidkid11 like everywhere else)#thats my bad#too lazy to change it#anyways#woe#dark shadow be upon ye#he's terrifying#and also in constant pain#but you know#you win some you lose some
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.
#we finally painted the exterior of our house. bought it over three years ago and it needed so much work#but we finally got enough done that it made sense to paint.#since it all took so long we had pleeeeeenty of time to pick a color#i painted huge swatches on the back of the house and we stared at them for over a year#i was terrified of picking something ugly lol im not a designer and my wife DEFINITELY isnt#but anyway ever since we had it painted a few weeks ago I've been OBSESSED WITH IT#it literally looks so fucking good like SOOOO GOOD#we picked the PERFECT COLOR. its blue but its not too dark and not too light#not too saturated and not too gray. a tiny hint of green but not a lot#it looks amazing with the red brick of the chimney and the reddish stain on our front door#it looks amazing with the green of all my wife's plants in the garden#it looks amazing in every lighting at every hour of the day#well someone just showed up at my door like 'hi i live in the neighborhood and we're gonna paint our house'#and 'my wife and i love this color and i was wondering if you remember the name of it'#YES. YES I DO REMEMBER THE NAME OF IT. 😍#i mean every neighbor we talk to is like 'omg it's so good!' but this is a guy who I've never seen#he must be on a different street so they just see it when they drive by since we're on the corner#sorry i just feel so satisfied right now lmao
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I would love if you could write something about a dragon having a girl for a mate and praising/ pleasing her with his tongue with in tune gets him off as well
Request 2: Could I request a dragon story? The reader gets forced by her village as an offering to a dragon to keep him at bay. He takes her as an offering and instead of torturing her as she thought he claims her as his life long mate and wishes to please her and praise her? Mainly by eating her out constantly
dragon!Diman x human!Reader Good to know: size difference, smut, dead animals
You should have seen this coming.
You noticed the glances, the whispers behind your back, and the cold silence that followed you among the villagers. The signs were all there. And most importantly, you rejected one of the elders' sons when he asked for your hand in marriage. That sealed your fate.
Even now, bound and frightened, you don't regret it, though. Not one bit.
Being offered to a dragon, whether as a toy or a snack, you can't be sure, still feels like a brighter future than living under that man's thumb for the rest of your life. The thought of enduring him as a husband, dirty and loud, is more terrifying than anything else you might face now. Cooking for him, bearing his children... No. You'd rather face a thousand monsters than live that kind of life.
"Are you still sure of your decision?" He asks, pulling you from your thoughts. His piggy eyes are fixated on you. The pale color of his irises reflects the silvery light of the moon in the dark sky.
"Yes," you reply, your voice almost drowned out by the noise of the villagers gathered at the foot of the hill. You have to force your expression to remain indifferent, hiding your disgust as you look at him. His double chin obscures the line of his jaw. His round face is covered with stubble and small gashes from his clumsy attempts to shave.
"You'll regret it," he huffs. His grip is bruisingly tight around your arm as he uses you to haul himself up the hill. With every step, you sink back a few inches under his weight.
No, you think, but don't say it out loud. I won't.
No matter what happens when the dragon arrives, it's still better than the image in your head of the man panting and moving above you in bed. Even the thought of it makes your stomach turn with disgust and bile. His stubby fingers would fumble over you, grasping all the wrong places, and you’re not even sure if he could manage to put it in with his large stomach in the way. But, of course, his looks are the least of your concerns. If he had a lovable personality, it might have been bearable. But he’s rotten to the core. He could be more like the son of one of the hunters; a big guy too, with a mess of blonde locks on the top of his head and bright blue eyes that always shine with humor and happiness. His chubbiness only makes him look several years younger, adding to his boyish charm. But you aren't that lucky. He’s in love with your neighbor.
And this, all of this, leaves you for the dragon.
When you reach the top of the hill, your legs are sore, and lungs tight from panting. The man behind you shoves you to the ground. The impact hurts, but it's still better than the feel of his sweaty palm on your bare skin.
"Don't even try to run," he warns. The words leave his lips in heavy puffs. "If you do, we have hunters ready to shoot you."
You don't respond, turning your head away from him and only looking back when he finally turns to leave you there. Oh, how you wish he’d trip and roll all the way down into the crowd of villagers below. He’d knock them down like a huge ball. A sweaty, hairy ball. You are sure he would sound like the pigs too, crying and wailing.
Adjusting yourself on your knees, you straighten your back and scan the view in front of you. You don’t attempt to escape. You have no doubt the hunters would stop you if you tried anything. And where would you even go? Your home is the village, with all your possessions left behind in your small hut. And with your hands tied behind your back, you wouldn’t survive the night in the woods. The villagers would hunt you down like an animal. You would become the pig, dying in the dirt. The thought makes your heart ache with betrayal. It leaves a sour taste in your mouth. You once believed the village and its people were your home, your safe haven. Now, you are nothing more to them than something they can sacrifice.
With a heavy sigh, you gaze over the woods stretching out before you; a tangle of shadows with sharp edges and twisted shapes. Behind them, the tall, looming mountains' jagged silhouettes reach skyward as if trying to pierce the darkness. The familiar view that once gave you a sense of safety now leaves you with a cold, gnawing unease in your stomach as you wait. The villagers, whom you know all too well, are silent now, waiting just like you.
And none of you have to wait for long.
The sight of the dragon in the dark sky takes your breath away. The moon’s silvery light catches its enormous body, revealing the scales in sharp detail. You see its muscles shifting and moving beneath the hard skin. Each powerful stroke of its wide wings sends ripples through the night air. You hear every rhythmic beat growing louder as it gets closer and closer. Its large head, long and sharp, is supported by a thick neck that connects to broad shoulders. Along its spine, sharp ridges jut out prominently, extending all the way to the tip of its swinging tail. It cuts into the darkness with a fluid grace.
Your chest heaves as you try to get air into your burning lungs, but it seems that even the sight of him alone is enough to leave you breathless. His formidable presence commands awe, respect, and fear. Each powerful movement echoes his sheer strength. When he lands not far from you, the ground shakes and trembles beneath his massive weight. The vibrations crawl up through your bones.
"You are my payment," he says. His voice is deep and rumbling.
The word choice makes you flinch, and though it’s not a question, you nod in response anyway. "Yes."
Living so close to a dragon is always a risk, but as far as you know, most places find ways to protect themselves from the wrath of these huge creatures. The villages offer them gold, food, or humans.
For a long, long second, the dragon looks over you with his almond-shaped eyes. The weight of his gaze is heavy on you as well as his next words. "You will do."
For what, you want to ask but decide to stay quiet instead.
"Will you try something silly if I cut your bounds?" He asks with amusement.
You shake your head. "No." What could you do against him? Run? Fight?
"Good," he hums, reaching behind you to slice through the ropes around your wrists with a quick flick of his claw. Your breath catches in your throat at the sudden closeness, and you dare not move, terrified of the damage he could inflict if you were to make a wrong move.
"Do you want to say your goodbye?" He asks, watching you rubbing your wrist where the robes cut into your skin.
You frown. "No." The word escapes your lips as a harsh spat.
He almost laughs. You can feel the deep rumble under your feet. "Good."
A loud, high-pitched squeal escapes your lips as he grabs you with a swift motion. His large hand envelops your entire body, fingers curling around you with ease. He lifts you off the ground effortlessly as his wings start to beat, raising you both into the air. You want to grab onto his fingers automatically, but his hold around you is so tight that you can't move.
"Wait, wait," you gasp hurriedly, and to your surprise, he stops in mid-air.
"For what?" The dragon asks. His golden eyes with black slits in the middle survey you waitingly, but when you open and close your lips several times without saying anything, he turns his attention away from you to continue his journey back to his home.
You want to take one last look at your village, the place that was your home until tonight, but your position in his hand makes it impossible. All you can see is the underside of his thick neck and head, along with the towering mountains in the distance. The late-night wind is cold on your face, yet his large palm around your body keeps you warm and secure in the air. Despite his size, he flies effortlessly, and soon, instead of the familiar hill and clearing, you find the dark wood underneath you.
His lair is nestled in a cove within one of the largest mountains. The air here is colder, and the wind is stronger, too, as he sets you down well away from the rocky edge, and you lose the warmth of his hold around you. After being carried, you feel unsure on your own feet as you look back to see the dark view of the landscape bathed in the moonlight. You can see your village in the distance, small and insignificant.
"Come," he breaks the silence. "It's warmer inside."
Going into a dark cave with a dragon several your size doesn't seem the brightest idea, but looking down the steep mountain beneath, you don't really have any other option.
"Wait," he says, making you stop immediately. "You need some light," he says as if reminding himself. "You humans barely see anything."
Without waiting for your response, he takes a deep breath, and before you can react, the dark hole is suddenly illuminated by the intense flames bursting from his massive jaws. The fire roars to life, casting flickering shadows across the cave's walls. Thick smoke surges into the cold night air, smothering you with its warm, acrid smell that stings your eyes and clings to your skin. When he finally closes his mouth, the flames recede, leaving the cave bathed in the dim, flickering light of burning torches mounted on the rugged walls. With the newfound illumination, you realize the cavern is even bigger than you first thought. Of course, a massive creature like the dragon standing before you requires as much space as he can get to move around freely.
"Come," he says, not even looking at you to check if you follow him.
Both of you know you don't really have any other option.
The dragon's lair is a maze that winds deeper and deeper into the heart of the mountain. Steep slopes and jagged inclines alternate with vast, rocky halls that are filled with rusty weapons, tarnished armor, and forgotten trinkets. The air is thick with the scent of the stone walls and smoke. Each breath you take feels heavy and warm. As you follow the dragon, the torches he lits along the way cast flickering shadows on the walls. By the time he finally halts, you're out of breath, coughing from the smoky air.
"Where are we?" You ask him when you find your voice. It's hoarse and tight.
"Does it matter?" He asks. "You can't leave anyway."
You don't know where you get the courage to scowl at him. "Rude."
The dragon scoffs, amused. "We are in the heart of the mountain," he says.
The place resembles a grand hall with towering walls and thick, imposing columns that stretch up into the shadows above. The ground is littered with various objects, shiny ones, and old ones. Piles of gold gleam under the dim light, scattered carelessly among the mess. Books are strewn about haphazardly, their pages yellowed and edges worn, as if they’ve been forgotten in the chaos. At the center of the hall is a massive nest, sprawling and chaotic, made from a jumble of materials and what-not.
The dragon gives you a moment to take in your surroundings, but the silence only heightens your anxiety. Is this really it? Is this where you’ll meet your end? You can't help but imagine your clothes and bones tossed carelessly into the pile of treasure where the dragon sleeps. The thought that nobody will ever find you, that no one will even search, gnaws at you. You’ll be forgotten, just another insignificant meal for the beast.
"Are you going to faint?" The dragon's voice suddenly rumbles through the cavern, making you jump. The sound echoes off the stone walls and ripples down your spine.
"No," you manage to gulp out. "Why?"
"You look like someone who is ready to faint," he says. His tone is so casual that it’s almost infuriating. You are surprised you can feel anything else besides fear.
"Do you see a lot of humans faint before you?"
His grin is slow, almost mechanical, revealing sharp teeth that glint under the dim light. "You could say that."
"So," you begin, licking your lips nervously, "what do you want to do with me?"
His grin widens, and your heart races. "Let's sleep for now, hm?"
Your eyes widen in surprise. Sleep? That wasn’t the answer you expected.
"What?"
The dragon rolls his large, golden eyes, clearly bored with your reaction. With a graceful, feline-like motion, he climbs into his nest, settling down with a heavy thud that makes the ground shake beneath your feet. His massive body curls in on itself, his tail wrapping around him as his head rests on a pile of treasure. Or trash. You can't decide.
That’s it? You think, bewildered. He just wants to sleep?
When you remain frozen in place, your legs trembling beneath you, the dragon lets out a scoff. In one swift motion, he reaches out, grabbing you by your torso and lifting you off the ground. Your startled squeal echoes through the hall, but he ignores it. He just places you close to his head with a gentle but firm grunt.
"Sleep." His warm breath washes over you, providing a stark contrast to the cold, unyielding walls of the mountain.
You’re too stunned to resist, and the strange warmth of his breath is oddly comforting in the darkness.
_
As you soon find out, the dragon has entirely different plans for you than your village, which was so eager to throw you into the beast's arms. Or mouth.
Two days later, you finally gather the courage to ask. "When do you plan to... kill me?"
The dragon's response is not what you expect. He laughs, a loud, rumbling sound that echoes through the cavern and lingers long enough to make your skin burn with embarrassment.
"Eat you?" He asks, still chuckling. "Why would I do that, little morsel? You're so small... not even enough for a quick snack."
"Well..." you clear your throat, searching for words. "Isn't that what dragons do?"
He hums thoughtfully. "I won't lie," he admits. "The taste of human flesh is not... unfamiliar to me, but no, I don't plan to eat you." His laughter bubbles up again, and you scowl at his obvious amusement.
"Then why are you keeping me?" You press. Confusion and frustration mix in your voice.
He pauses for a moment, considering. "To entertain me."
"Entertain you?" You repeat, incredulous.
"Yes."
"What?" You scoff, disbelief creeping into your tone.
The dragon huffs as he leans closer to you. His massive head is now just inches away. Each exhale ruffles your hair, the warm breath unsettling yet somehow familiar after two days of spending time with him.
"Do you think you're the first human who has been given to me?" He asks, not waiting for your reply. "You’ll stay here with me until I tire of you."
"And after that?" You whisper, your voice barely louder than a whisper.
"I will let you go," he says. He almost sounds bored. "Just as I let the others go when they could no longer amuse me."
"You let them go? Alive?" You ask, hardly daring to believe it. You've never met anyone who was captured by a dragon and got out without a fight.
"Yes," he replies, rolling his eyes at your disbelief.
When you don’t respond, he turns away from you. His tail nearly knocks you off your feet as he heads toward one of the corridors.
"Where are you going?" You call after him, watching his massive form disappear into the shadows.
"I’ll get you some food," he says, laughing again. "Stay there."
"I don't even know your name!" You shout after him. You can hear your voice echo in the distance.
"Diman, little morsel."
Diman.
You're not sure how long he's been away. In the deepest part of the mountain, you can't see the sky, and not knowing whether it's day or night is starting to drive you mad. The dragon is rude and blunt, but you're beginning to think he won't be your biggest problem if you have to stay here with him.
When Diman returns, you feel a pang of disappointment as you see he has come back empty-handed. Your stomach growls with hunger, but before you can voice your frustration, he stops in front of you. With a deep breath, his large mouth opens, and two rabbits tumble onto the ground.
They're covered in his saliva, and they are unmistakably dead.
"You know what to do with them, right?"
"Yeah," you reply, trying to suppress the grimace threatening to spread across your face. "Thanks."
You grab the rabbits by their hind legs, searching the cavern for anything that might help you prepare them.
"You can find knives..." he muses for a moment. "Anywhere, I guess."
You glance at him, surprised by his nonchalant response. He smirks. His eyes gleam with a predatory glint, and the slits of his pupils widen slightly as he takes in your reaction. "You couldn't hurt me even if you wanted to," he adds with obvious amusement.
Without saying a word, you sigh and turn your attention back to the task at hand. You have dragon-saliva-soaked rabbits to prepare.
_
"Can I clean myself somewhere?" You ask.
After several days in the dragon's lair, you've yet to see the outside world, something you'll need to address with him eventually, but you have more important things in your mind. You've grown increasingly uncomfortable in your own skin. Your clothes reek of smoke and sweat.
Diman surprises you by standing up in his nest. "Good. I was starting to think you preferred being... like this."
You frown at him, feeling a mix of frustration and weariness. If this continues, your irritation with the dragon might become more than just a fleeting emotion. "What do you mean?"
"I thought you liked being stinky," he replies with a shrug. His muscular body, covered in thick, scaly skin, moves fluidly as he stretches.
"Why didn't you say anything before?" You splutter, annoyed and embarrassed at the same time.
"I didn't want to be rude," he says with an air of nonchalance.
You can’t help but scoff at his response, unable to hide your frustration.
"Come on, then."
The dragon leads you through the corridors. His massive strides force you to almost run just to keep up with him, and you have to watch out for his tail, too. It swings left and right in front of you with every step he takes.
For a long while, you wonder if he’s taking you out into the woods to find a river. But when he finally stops, and you step out behind him, you gasp in awe.
Before you is a new cave, even larger than the main hall at the heart of the mountain. Sunlight streams through natural openings in the walls, casting a warm glow on the time-carved columns that support the rough ceiling. The light dances across the surface of several pools of varying sizes scattered throughout the space. The water in them is crystal clear, reflecting the rugged walls with shimmering ripples. The air is thick with warmth and steam, which rises gently from the springs.
"Oh," you gasp, taking in the unexpected sight. "I didn’t know about this."
"Of course, you didn’t," Diman replies, his tone matter-of-fact. You give him a look, but he is not the type to shy away. "Do you want to bathe or not?"
"Yes," you reply, "I do. Do you have a change of clothes for me?"
"I’m sure I’ll find something," he says, and with that, he leaves you alone in the cave.
"Like a maid," he adds under his breath.
With his departure, you waste no time stripping off your clothes and stepping into one of the pools. The water laps gently against your bare skin, and you can feel your muscles and joints relaxing as the warmth envelops you. Leaning against the edge, you face the openings in the wall, allowing the sunlight and fresh air to wash over you.
When your village cast you out, you never imagined you'd end up here. You can’t help but think about how the others must assume you are long dead by now. You had thought so too, that your fate would be sealed and your life cut short. Yet here you are, unexpectedly alive and soaking in comfort. The irony of your situation is not lost on you.
You’re almost asleep when Diman returns, his heavy footsteps echoing softly in the cave. Something soft lands on the ground beside you silently. Opening your eyes, you see what looks like a nightgown spread out on the floor.
"And I brought you towels," he adds, his voice low and gruff.
You sit up, blinking in curiosity. "Why do you have towels?"
He shrugs, the movement causing the thick plates of his muscles to shift. "I have many things I have no idea how I got."
"Yeah. I saw."
Diman catches the subtle change in your tone and tilts his head. "Do you have a problem with it, little morsel?"
"It's... messy," you reply cautiously, watching his reaction. While Diman can be blunt and intimidating, he hasn’t harmed you yet, and you’re careful not to overstep.
"And it should bother me because...?"
"I didn’t say it should bother you," you tell him softly, trying to choose your words carefully. "But it’s not really... homey."
"It’s a cave," he retorts as if that explains everything.
"But it’s still your home," you reason.
Diman considers this, his gaze thoughtful. "Okay then," he agrees with a slow nod. "You’ll be here for a while, you might as well clean up if you want to."
Great, you think sarcastically. Just what you wanted, a never-ending cleaning project.
"Now," you say after a while, breaking the silence with a bit of hesitation, "can you leave?"
Diman frowns. "What?"
"I’m naked!" You exclaim, pointing out the obvious. With nothing else to distract you, you’re acutely aware of the fact that you’re completely bare in front of him, even though the pool and the water offer some privacy.
"So?" His tone is indifferent.
"Out!" You insist, your voice rising a bit in embarrassment.
For a long moment, Diman just stares at you, half-serious, half-amused. When you add a soft, "Please," his expression softens slightly.
He sighs but begins to move anyway. His large frame shifts with a resigned grace. "It is my lair, you know? You can’t just order me around."
It seems you can, but you wisely keep that thought to yourself.
Later, you find yourself nestled in Diman’s nest, a place that was initially intimidating but has become oddly comforting. You didn’t dare say anything about sleeping here at first, but now you don’t mind it. His warmth is a blessing against the cold mountain nights. A cocoon of heat that keeps the chill at bay.
"Read me something," Diman’s voice rumbles, breaking the silence.
"Read you something?" You ask, turning your head to look at him. His massive head rests on a pile of unidentifiable objects, his golden eyes reflecting the flickering firelight.
"Yes," he replies with a hint of impatience in his tone. "There are tons of books all over. Find something."
"Okay," you agree. You are not really sleepy either and glad for something to occupy your mind.
You rise from the nest, your nightgown swishing around your legs as you begin to sift through the scattered piles of belongings.
Diman watches you silently. There’s a quiet contentment in the way he observes you without saying anything. His tail curls slightly around himself some more. The sight of you in the soft, flowing nightgown fills him with a strange sense of peace. It’s almost enough to lull him to sleep, but he’s not quite ready for that yet.
As you pick through the mess, carefully avoiding knocking over anything, you come across a book that catches your eye. The cover is worn, and the title is barely readable, but it feels right in your hands. You bring it back to the nest and settle in beside Diman. Opening the book, you begin to read aloud, and soon, your voice fills the cavern. The dragon listens, his eyes half-lidded, and his breathing is slow and steady.
He spent the last decade mostly asleep, lost in the deep slumber of his kind. But now, with you here, being awake doesn’t feel like a burden anymore.
_
You and the dragon fall into a routine surprisingly quickly. The strange part isn't how easily you've adjusted to your new life, but how little you miss your old one. Yes, you miss your cottage, its cozy walls, and familiar smells, but you don’t miss the villagers. Why would you? They threw you away like garbage. With a few exceptions, they can rot where they are. You were right, though, choosing to be with a dragon is still a better option than staying with that fool of a man.
"What are you doing?" The sudden voice of Diman makes you jump. You almost drop the bundle of clothes in your hands. His large frame looms in the entrance. Shadows play and stretch on his scales in the dim light.
"Cleaning," you reply, steadying yourself after a second. You notice the faint twitch at the corner of his mouth. "You're home early."
"There was a storm last night," he explains. His answer rumbles through the walls like a distant thunder. "It means plenty of fish."
Without further ado, he opens his massive jaws and drops a writhing pile of fish onto the stone floor. They flop and gasp, their silver scales glinting as a thin layer of water and dragon saliva spreads beneath them.
"Oh, god," you groan, stepping back in disgust. "They’re still alive!"
Diman tilts his head, watching you with a curious glint in his eyes. "You don't like it?"
"I do," you say, though your gaze remains fixed on the pile of struggling fish. "I just... I hate killing them."
"What?" He asks, genuinely puzzled.
"They're so wiggly!" You groan again, shuddering at the thought of touching their slimy bodies.
The dragon laughs. The deep, resonant sound echoes off the rugged walls. "I see. I’ll take care of them while you finish cleaning then."
You blink in surprise at his offer, but quickly nod anyway. You won't argue about this. "Thank you."
While he effortlessly handles the fish with his massive talons, you return to organizing the books you’ve been gathering from around the lair. You’ve created a neat pile in a corner. Diman could have a full library, though you’re not sure if dragons can even read.
"You’ve been busy today," he comments, his eyes flickering over to you as he lights a fire for cooking. Doing it in the heart of a mountain might not be the best idea, but for now, it’s your only option.
"Yeah," you sigh, placing your hands on your hips as you survey the hall. The place is still a chaos, but it’s better than before. "What do you do with so much gold?" You ask, nodding towards another glittering pile that catches the warm glow of the torches.
Diman shrugs. "They’re pretty."
"And the books? Or the clothes?" You continue, settling down next to him by the fire. Your stomach growls at the sight of the fish, now neatly arranged and ready to cook. "I understand the weapons and shields, but everything else seems so random."
He shrugs again. "I take what I find interesting or pretty. I mean, you’re here too, no?"
His words catch you off guard, a rush of warmth rising to your cheeks. "Well, yeah," you mumble, flustered.
Diman grins, revealing rows of sharp teeth. "You look better when you’re not trying to faint from fear."
You scoff. The moment between you two passes as quickly as it came. "Shut up."
He chuckles but falls silent, allowing a peaceful quiet to settle over you both as you begin cooking dinner. The fish sizzles over the fire, filling the cavern with a mouth-watering aroma.
"You seem to like it," Diman teases, watching you tear into the white flesh with both hands. Your hunger overwhelms your manners.
"Sorry," you mumble, wiping your mouth with the back of your hand. "I didn’t get to eat fish often back in the village. The river was far, and when people caught something, they sold it too expensive for me."
Diman’s gaze softens slightly. "Did you have problems there?"
"Not really," you reply between two bites. "I didn’t have much, but it was enough, you know?"
He hums in understanding, lowering his massive head to the ground as you continue eating.
"Do you want some?" You ask, holding out a piece of fish on your plate toward him. "It’s delicious."
The moment the words leave your mouth, time seems to stop. Diman stares at you, shock clear on his face. You have no idea what you’ve just offered him. Offering food among dragons is a gesture of profound significance, far beyond the simple act as it is for humans. It’s a symbol of trust, of bonding, of something deeper that you can’t even begin to comprehend.
For a long moment, Diman hesitates, torn between his instincts and the awareness that you don’t understand the weight of your gesture.
"No," he finally says, though his voice is softer, almost tender. He relaxes back onto the ground, his massive form curling slightly around you. "Eat, little morsel."
You continue eating, unaware of the change between you and the dragon and the silent vow Diman has made to himself. He will make sure you never leave him, even if you don’t fully understand the bond you’re forming yet.
_
“When will you get bored of me?” You ask the dragon after two months of living with him. The two of you sit at the entrance of his cave, basking in the last golden rays of the summer sun as it slowly dips behind the horizon. His emerald scales shimmer under the warm light. He sprawls on the ground, seemingly at ease.
At your question, his muscles tense, and he lifts his massive head to look at you. “Do you want to leave, little human?” He asks. The question rumbles with a barely suppressed growl of disapproval.
In truth, you have no desire to leave him. The thought of him sending you away gnaws at you daily. Where would you even go? Your old life was left behind, abandoned along with your cottage. Now, this cave, with its towering stone walls and the dragon who lives in it, is the only home you know.
A long, silent moment stretches between you as he watches you intently. Slowly, you gather your courage and shake your head. “No,” you admit, your voice steady. “That’s why I’m asking.”
His gaze softens slightly. “You don’t want to leave me?” He asks again as if needing to hear it twice to believe it.
You shake your head once more.
Living with Diman has been surprisingly comfortable. Despite his size and the sharpness of his claws, he’s become a constant presence around you, a source of safety. He’s often infuriating, teasing you just for the fun of it, but there’s warmth in his companionship that you’ve come to cherish. The thought of leaving him, of leaving this mountain, fills you with anxiety.
“Would you let me go if I wanted to leave?” You ask suddenly, the question escaping before you can stop it.
Diman sighs, his eyes drifting over the darkening landscape. “That would be the right thing to do, wouldn’t it?” He muses aloud.
“Yeah,” you agree quietly. “I guess.”
He meets your gaze with a guilty smile. The corners of his large mouth curve up. “I say yes, as long as you promise not to test it.”
Diman has always been quick to let go of the men and women offered to him over the years. A lot of them stayed only a few days before he grew bored and sent them on their way. But with you, it’s different. He has no intention of letting you go. It’s not just about the entertainment you provide, though, you do make him laugh more than he has in years. No, it’s more than that. You make his cave feel like a home, and every time he leaves to hunt, he finds himself eager to return. When he sleeps, he looks forward to waking up, knowing you’ll be there. You’ve brought something into his life he didn’t know he was missing.
To his surprise, you laugh, the sound light and genuine. “Okay,” you say with a smile. “I won’t test it.”
And with that, the conversation ends. You lean back against his thick arm, closing your eyes with a contented sigh.
That night, the two of you drift off to sleep with anticipation and some lightness in your hearts.
_
"When will you be back?" You ask Diman, standing under the entrance of the cave as the rain pours down in heavy sheets. The dark clouds above rumble and flash with lightning every few minutes, casting brief, eerie illuminations across the landscape. The forest below is still green, but it looks weary and tired as the autumn approaches.
Diman turns to you, a grin spreading across his massive face, revealing his sharp teeth. "Are you worried about me?" He teases, expecting your usual playful retort, but when you don’t respond with your typical energy, his expression softens, and he answers more seriously. "I’ll be fine," he assures you. "This weather is nothing to me."
You nod, but the sigh that escapes you betrays your concern. "Okay."
"I’ll be back soon," he adds, trying to reassure you. "It shouldn’t be more than a week. Maybe two."
You don’t like the uncertainty in his answer, but you nod again anyway. "Okay."
"Take care of yourself while I’m away," he says, his voice gentle, as if trying to ease your worry.
"I will," you reply, though the words feel hollow.
Diman has to leave to hunt and prepare for the approaching winter. With his large appetite, he needs to be mindful of the animal population and cover more land before he accidentally empties the surrounding forest. And while you understand the necessity, you don't like it. You’ve grown used to his presence, his constant warmth. The thought of him being gone, even for a short while, leaves you feeling strangely vulnerable.
But you know it’s something he must do. So, you watch him as he spreads his enormous wings. The muscles in his body flex in preparation for flight, and with a powerful leap, he takes to the sky.
You watch him until his form is swallowed by the stormy clouds.
As you retreat back into the cave, it feels emptier without him. Colder somehow. You wrap yourself in a blanket, trying to shake off the unease settling in your chest. You tell yourself he’ll be back soon, just as he promised, but until then, the cave, and you, feel just a little lonelier.
While Diman is away, you continue to tidy up the cave, but it becomes increasingly difficult as the days drag on. Without his presence, the mountain walls feel heavy and claustrophobic. They close in on you more and more with each passing day. The silence is deafening, and the nights are too cold without the dragon’s warmth beside you. The cave now feels more like a prison, its stone walls offering little comfort against the loneliness that gnaws at you.
As the end of the first week without him approaches, you find yourself spending more and more time at the entrance of the cave, staring out at the still-raging storm and the dark sky and hoping to catch a glimpse of the returning dragon. Nature seems to be shedding its lush greens at an alarming speed. The forest below transforms into shades of orange and brown as autumn takes hold.
One day, you sit at the entrance of the cave, wrapped tightly in a blanket as the storm continues its relentless assault on the world outside. The sky above is dark, and heavy with clouds. The wind howls, and the rain pounds against the rocks, but you barely notice it anymore. Your thoughts are far away, lost in worry and longing for Diman's return.
The rumble of the ground beneath you is subtle at first, a faint vibration that you almost dismiss as part of the storm. But then it intensifies. The mountain itself groans under the pressure of some unseen force. You stand up, alarmed and with a racing heart as the tremors grow stronger. For several seconds, you stand there, frozen in place until the rocks around you begin to shudder. Dust and small pebbles rain down from the ceiling. A deafening roar echoes through the cave, and the ground lurches violently beneath your feet. The entrance, your only connection to the outside world, begins to crumble too. The rocks above shift and crack, and with a thunderous crash, they fall. The cacophony of stone grinding against stone drowns out everything else.
You barely have time to leap out of the way as the massive boulders come crashing down, sealing off the entrance in a cloud of dust and debris. You hurl yourself to the ground, rolling to the side and curling into a tight ball in the midst of the chaos. Your heart pounds as you squeeze your eyes shut. Your muscles are tense as you pull your knees to your chest. One arm wraps protectively around your head, while the other digs into your legs, anchoring you as the world around you crumbles.
When it finally stops, the silence is absolute, broken only by the muffled sound of the storm outside.
Coughing and gasping for breath, you push yourself up with a groan. Darkness surrounds you, thick and impenetrable. The air is heavy with dust, making it hard to breathe. Your hands scrape against the rough stone floor. You reach out, feeling your way through the pitch-black void, but your fingers meet only cold, solid rock and hard edges. Desperately, you search for any sliver of light, any gap that might offer a way out, but there’s nothing. The cave is sealed tight, and you are alone in the stifling blackness. The once-open space is now filled with a thick wall of stone.
You sink back to the ground with a rising panic in your chest while trying to steady your breathing. Your shoulders feel heavy as you force your mind to think. Diman will come back, you tell yourself. He’ll know something’s wrong. He’ll dig you out. You are safe with no injuries besides a few bruises and cuts here and there, and for now, all you can do is wait, alone in the darkness, hoping that Diman will return sooner rather than later to save you.
Hours pass in suffocating darkness. You sit, knees drawn to your chest, straining to hear anything beyond the silence. Every creak and groan of the mountain around you sends a jolt of hope through your heart, but it’s always nothing. Your dragon is probably far away, having no idea of the situation you are in. Your mind races with worry and fear, but as time drags on with no sign of Diman, a cold, grim resolve begins to take hold of you. You can’t just sit here, waiting. You have to do something.
With a deep breath, you push yourself to your feet. Your hands reach out to the rough, familiar walls of the cave, guiding you as you navigate through the pitch-black corridors. Every torch is blown out, making each step you take slow and careful. It feels like an eternity by the time you reach the grand hall. You can’t see it, but you know the space by heart.
First, you need fire. The torch is hard to find. Your hands are shaking when your fingers finally close around one, but lighting it is even more difficult. You are clumsy, trembling with cold and fear, but after several tries, a spark catches, and a small, flickering flame bursts to life.
The light is weak, barely enough to push back the darkness, but it’s something. It gives you the courage to move forward.
You gather as much supply as you can carry, stuffing them into a small sack before making your way to the baths. The walls here are punctuated by holes that let in some natural light, even though it's not much now with the storm outside. It's better than nothing, though.
You set your torch in a holder on the wall, letting the warm, flickering light mix with the cool, natural glow filtering in. The bath hall is a large, cavernous room with several pools fed by underground springs.
Okay, you think. It's much better. You have light, clean air, food and water. You will be fine until Diman comes back.
You lay out the blankets, creating a small nest for sleep. The air here is warmer, the water giving off a gentle steam that eases the chill in your bones. You take a deep breath, the first one since forever that doesn’t feel suffocating. The fear and loneliness are still there, gnawing at the back of your mind, but it’s easier to push them aside now that you are safe and out of the dark.
Diman will come back. He has to.
As the second week draws to a close, the storm that has raged on for weeks finally begins to ease. For the first time in days, you feel a small sense of relief. Being able to see the sky helps soothe the anxiety that has been eating at you. The knowledge that the world beyond the mountain still exists and turns is a comfort you didn't know you needed so much.
It's early Friday morning when a deep rumble shakes the cave, jolting you awake. Your stomach tightens with fear. The memory of the last collapse flashes through your mind as you brace yourself for the worst but this time, the ground doesn’t give way, and as the rumbling continues, you realize it’s not the mountain. It’s Diman’s voice, echoing through the labyrinth of stone.
A gasp escapes your lips as you scramble from your makeshift bed, your heart pounding with a mixture of relief and anticipation. You hesitate at the entrance of the cave that opens to the baths, unsure whether to move or stay put. You have to keep your tensing and twitching muscles from running. The maze of tunnels and chambers could make it harder for him to find you if you wander too far.
You call his name, your voice trembling as it bounces off the rugged walls, merging with his deep, booming calls.
“Y/N!” His voice is closer now, filled with urgency and worry.
Tears well up and spill down your cheeks as you see his massive form emerge at the end of the corridor. His eyes are wide and frantic as he spots you. Relief washes over you like a wave as you rush toward him, your arms stretching out instinctively.
“I’m here,” you cry out. Your voice breaks with emotion just as his large head presses into your embrace. You wrap your arms around him as best as you can, feeling the cool, rough texture of his scales under your fingers. Your feet lift off the ground for a moment as you cling to him. His deep, rumbling hum vibrates through your body as he tries to calm himself.
“I saw the entrance,” he says, his voice choked with fear and lingering panic. “I thought- I saw your blanket between the rocks- and- ”
“I’m fine,” you reassure him, caressing the thick scales beneath his eyes. “I was lucky; it didn’t hurt me.”
“Why were you even there?”
“I was waiting for you,” you reply.
“Little morsel,” he sighs, snuggling even closer. “Are you sure you’re not hurt?”
“I promise." His large, gleaming eyes soften as you continue to stroke his scales. “I’m fine now that you’re here,” you whisper. The warmth of his presence chases away the lingering fear and loneliness that had weighed on you for so long.
Diman hums again, a low, soothing sound that vibrates through the air. It wraps you in a cocoon of safety.
“I’ll never leave you like that again,” he promises, his voice firm and unwavering.
You smile, wiping away the last of your tears as you nod. “It's fine by me.”
For a while, both of you bask in each other's embrace while talking quietly about the last two weeks. Diman needs a long time to calm down and believe that you are really okay.
"I will go and take care of the entrance," he says after a while. "And lit some fire."
"Okay," you nod even though you have to force yourself to let him go.
"Stay there until then," he says. "I will come back and get you."
As Diman busies himself, you slip away to take a bath. The warm water washes away the grime and stress of the past weeks, and as you change into clean clothes, a sense of relief settles over you. The knowledge that Diman is back, safe and sound, lifts the heavy burden that had weighed on your heart. Even as you hear the rumble of debris being cleared and feel the tremors beneath your feet, the fear that once accompanied these sensations is replaced by contentment. The mountain, which had felt like a prison in his absence, now feels secure and comforting again.
By the time you finish, Diman has completed his work. The entrance to the cave is clear once again, and as you step into the great hall, the fire’s orange glow flickers warmly on the walls, bringing a sense of normalcy back to your life.
"We need to change a few things around here," Diman says, his mind clearly racing with ideas. "I want you to have an escape route even when I'm not here. You need more light and—"
"It's okay," you interrupt gently, smoothing your palm over his thick arm. The texture of his scales is rough beneath your hand. "We can figure everything out later. Are you hungry?"
He looks at you, surprised. "I just came back from hunting."
You shrug, settling into your usual spot near his nest. The fire crackles, casting dancing shadows on the walls, and while you miss the open view of the outside world, the warmth and light bring a sense of peace. "You worked a lot today."
His smile is gentle, and there’s a new light in his yellow eyes that you’ve never seen before, something soft and tender. "No," he replies after a pause, his voice low and soothing. "I'm not hungry, but let me feed you."
"Oh," you say, surprised by his offer. "Okay," you add, smiling at him as he moves to prepare your meal.
Despite the obvious difference in size between him and the portion you eat, he works with surprising speed and care, and soon, the cave is filled with the mouthwatering aroma of vegetables and fish. Your stomach growls in response, reminding you how long it’s been since you’ve had a proper meal.
"Where did you get fish?" You ask, watching him with curiosity. You had finished all the meat in the last two weeks before it could spoil.
"On my way back," he replies with a nonchalant shrug. "Now, eat."
You take the plate he offers, the food warm and inviting. As you savor each bite, you glance up at Diman. His eyes are fixed on you, watching with a kind of quiet contentment that makes your heart swell. You’ve never seen him look at you like this before, and it fills you with a warmth that has nothing to do with the fire.
"Thank you," you say softly, and Diman responds with a deep, comforting hum that reverberates through the cave. The sound is rich and soothing, wrapping around you like a warm blanket. "Are you sure you don't want some?" You ask, holding up a piece of fish between your fingers. You could use a fork, but Diman doesn’t care about etiquette, and you quickly grew tired of searching for usable cutlery in the vastness of his home.
As the words leave your lips, the air between you shifts. Something unspoken and electric crackles in the silence as your eyes meet, holding each other's gaze a moment longer than usual.
"Do you know what you're offering me, little morsel?" Diman's voice deepens, resonating with a gravity that makes your heart skip a beat. The black slits of his pupils widen, nearly overtaking the molten gold of his eyes.
You hesitate. The answer is on the tip of your tongue. "No?" You say instead.
"Sharing food in my culture is an offer to share everything," he explains, his gaze never wavering. "It’s a bond between family and mates."
"Oh," you manage. Your throat tightens at the realization. "So..." you croak, still holding up your hand with the small offering. "Do you want some?"
A slow, satisfied smile spreads across his lips, revealing the sharp edges of his teeth as he grins down at you. There’s a predatory glint in his eyes as he leans in, his massive head drawing closer. His tongue flicks out, surprisingly gentle, as he licks up the morsel from your hand. It’s likely not even enough for him to taste, but the significance isn’t lost on either of you. You’ve offered something sacred, something profound, and he’s accepted it with a puffed-out chest and a heart swelling with warmth.
As you watch him, a thought strikes you. "Wait," you say, your voice breaking the quiet. "But you..."
Diman watches you with amusement, the corner of his mouth curling up. "Yes, little mate?"
"You prepared my food so many times."
"I have," he agrees, his voice steady and sure.
"Well," you clear your throat, feeling a little foolish but pressing on. Your heart races in your chest at the silent change between you and the dragon. "Do you want some more?"
Diman chuckles. "No," he replies with affection. "Eat now." But even as he speaks, he doesn’t pull away. Instead, he stays close, his head rubbing gently against your side and arms, careful not to knock you over with his size and strength.
His gaze never leaves yours as you take a sip of water, trying to calm yourself after your last bite. Your stomach twists into a tight but excited knot. Your hands tremble as you reach out, letting your fingers trace the space between his nostrils, feeling the rough, resilient scales that shield him from nearly everything.
Diman hums softly, a deep, resonant sound that vibrates through the air and ripples down your spine. “Lay down, Y/N,” he murmurs, nudging you gently with his head. “I hunger for something else.”
A quiet “oh” escapes your lips. It's more of a breath than a word, but you obey without trying to say anything else. Your movements are slow and deliberate as you lower yourself to the ground. Your eyes are still locked in his intense gaze. The cold, uneven ground presses against your skin through the thin fabric of your nightgown. It barely offers any protection from the roughness and the cold beneath you. Goosebumps wake on your skin, but you are sure it has more to do with the dragon than anything else. You’re very aware of how exposed you are, both physically and emotionally, as you settle down before him. Diman watches you with a look that’s a mix of hunger and intent. His eyes glow with an intensity that sends a shiver down your spine. His attention is heavy and burning. His massive form shifts closer. His breath is warm against your skin. There’s a powerful, magnetic pull between you two that sparkles under the silence that settled over the hall in the last few minutes. It's primal and impatient. His gaze sweeps over you, taking in every detail and every breath you take, and for a long moment, the world narrows to just the two of you. The cave, the firelight, the very air around you, all of them fade into the background. Your nipples harden into tight peaks under the white fabric you wear. Your arms start to move to hide yourself, but you decide against it at the last moment. Instead, you rest your hands on your stomach and open your legs without Diman having to tell you what to do. The mix of the cold mountain air and his warm breath fans over your center, making your pussy clench around nothing. The sudden feeling takes your breath away for several seconds. The dragon didn't even touch you yet, but you are already damp and eager. The muscles of your thighs are hard, and your insides tremble with anticipation. Your chest rises and falls with each shallow breath, pushing the soft globes of your breasts against the nightgown. The fabric clings to your skin as Diman's golden eyes trace over your form. His gaze is intense as he takes in the sight of you laid out before him. He hasn’t touched you yet, but the promise of what’s to come hangs thick in the air, a palpable tension that has your heart racing. You can feel his warmth and his presence, so close yet not close enough, and it drives your desire even higher.
"Good, mate," Diman rumbles with satisfaction. "Open up for me even more."
With a shaky breath, you obey, forcing your legs further apart. You can feel the stretch of your tendons, the pull of your muscles as you do exactly as he commands. The hem of your nightgown slips down, gathering around the base of your thighs, leaving you bare and utterly vulnerable before him. Your lips are dry as you wait for his reaction, and your cheeks are hot with need and a hint of embarrassment.
His eyes rove over your exposed form once again. His warm breath fans over your center, over your whole body, making you quiver with anticipation.
"Such a beautiful sight," the dragon murmurs. His voice is a low growl that makes your pussy clench with need. He leans in closer, his large head hovering just above your thighs. The approval in his gaze makes you feel both cherished and possessed.
Your heart races, each beat echoing in your ears as you lay there, completely exposed. The rough texture of the ground beneath you only serves to remind you of the dragon's power above. His large form makes the cave look small as you look up at him with anticipation. Your whole body is tense as you wait for him to do something.
And when he does, you forget how to breathe.
Diman's tongue flicks out. The tip barely brushes against your inner thighs, and yet, it sends a jolt of pleasure through your body. Your back arches instinctively, and a soft moan escapes your lips. Maybe if your mind would be clearer, you would be embarrassed because of your reaction, but the haze is already too thick in your head to care. He moves slowly and exploratory. His tongue traces patterns across your skin but never goes further up than the base of your thighs. Each touch and caress is something new you both try to savor.
"You're perfect, little mate," Diman whispers, his voice thick with emotion.
His presence is overwhelming, his scales cool and firm against your skin, while the heat of his breath washes over you in waves when finally, his enormous head settles down between your legs. You feel the sheer magnitude of his closeness in every fiber of your body.
His tongue, wide and powerful, flicks out to tease you. The rough texture sends jolts of pleasure through your core. He starts slowly, almost lazily, trailing his tongue along your inner thighs, leaving a tingling, wet path of warmth in its wake. The contrast between his cool scales and the heat of your arousal is intoxicating.
When you waited for him at the top of the hill, you never imagined it would lead to this, that you would end up breathless and aroused beneath the beast. A wry smile tugs at your lips, thinking of the people you once knew. They have no idea how much of a favor they’ve done for you.
A soft gasp escapes your lips as his tongue finally makes contact with your pussy and cuts the train of your thoughts. The sensation sends a shiver up your spine. His tongue is wet and rough just enough the make you buck your hips against him while he watches your every reaction with an intensity that makes your breath catch in your throat. His molten gold eyes are filled with a hunger that only stokes the fire within you. The black slits of his pupils are almost orbs as he tries to take you in.
He takes his time, exploring you with slow movements that leave you on the edge of madness. The rough texture of his tongue adds a delicious friction that makes you moan with need. Your hips lift again, seeking more of his touch, but Diman holds you in place with a gentle but unyielding pressure, savoring the control he has over your body.
“Diman,” you breathe, his name escaping your lips in a desperate plea. The tension inside you coils tighter with each teasing stroke. Your body aches for release.
“Patience, little mate,” he rumbles, his deep voice vibrating through you like a physical caress. Your back arches at the feeling. The sound alone sends a pulse of arousal straight to your core, making you clench around nothing. His words only heighten the anticipation building inside of you.
He dips lower, circling your entrance with agonizing slowness, making you gasp and writhe beneath him. The tip of his tongue traces your folds, gathering your wetness and savoring your taste with a low, approving hum that resonates through you. He flicks your clit over and over again until your thighs tighten around his large jaw and nose. He teases you restlessly, slipping down across your folds and going straight to your entrance. He prods you there for an endless moment, making you whine and fidget with impatience bubbling in your chest.
The dragon laughs at that, and the rumble of his chuckle echoes in your body. The feeling punches a moan out of your lips, and you barely have time to come back to your senses when his tongue slides inside you with a slow, deliberate push. He fills you up in a way that’s both overwhelming and strange. The wet muscle penetrates you, making you cry out breathlessly. Your back arches off the ground almost painfully, and your walls clench around the thickness of his tongue, only making it rub over your sensitive spots even more. He moves in and out of you as he fucks you with a measured, unhurried pace. He lets his tongue soak in your arousal while he listens to the sweet sounds you make. You are the prettiest thing he has ever seen with your half-closed eyes and trembling muscles. He can feel every flutter of your pussy around his tongue as he pushes deeper, finding every spot that makes your voice go higher with several octaves.
The pleasure is intense, almost too much to bear. Your body is stretched and filled by the sheer size of his tongue. Each of his movements is precise, calculated to drive you to the brink without ever pushing you over the edge. You can feel every inch of him, every ripple and curve of his tongue as it slides in and out of you. The sensation swirls the world around you once, twice, three times.
“Please,” you whisper. “I need-” The end of your sentence is drowned by the ragged breath that bursts out of your lips as you wheeze and pant.
Diman’s response is a low, satisfied growl that reverberates through your entire body. He increases the pace slightly, his tongue fucking you with a slow, steady rhythm that has you gasping for air. The pressure builds inside you, a hot, insistent ache that demands release, and your body tightens with each thrust. You feel like a drawn bow.
And...
and...
He pulls back just enough to flick his tongue over your clit. His touch is electric, sending shockwaves through your entire body, yet you cry out in frustration. Tears gather in your eyes, and your hips buck up against him as you chase the high that’s just got out of reach. Diman seems to relish in your desperation, his tongue alternating between fucking you deep and teasing your clit with a maddening, feather-light touch.
The tension coils tighter and tighter inside you, every muscle in your body straining as you teeter on the edge of release. The dragon's tongue works you with a relentless, skillful precision, drawing out every ounce of pleasure until you’re a quivering, breathless mess beneath him.
“Let go,” he murmurs. His voice is like a deep, soothing rumble that wraps around you like a warm embrace. “I want to feel you come for me, little mate.”
His words are the final push you need as his tongue finds its way inside you with a quick, bullying motion. Your body surrenders to the overwhelming pleasure that crashes over you like a tidal wave. The orgasm tears through you, leaving you breathless and shaking. Your muscles contract and release in a rhythm that matches the waves of ecstasy flooding your veins. You, your body, and your orgasm are in sync with the rapid thrust of his tongue that pounds in and out of you as you fall over the edge.
Diman doesn’t stop. His tongue continues to fuck you through your orgasm, drawing out every last drop of pleasure until you’re left trembling and spent beneath him. Your body is a live wire of sensation, every touch sending aftershocks of pleasure coursing through you. Your climax and his saliva are a mess of mix between your thighs, soaking the floor underneath.
When he pulls back, his eyes glow with a satisfied light as he watches you catch your breath. His chest expands with pride at the sight of you. Your gown clings to your skin, highlighting the hard peaks of your nipples. A thin layer of sweat glistens on your skin under the orange glow of the fire. You are beautiful, and something in him, something primal and demanding, awakens again, but instead of burying himself between your soft thighs again, he just licks his lips to savor your taste while you slowly get back to your senses.
"Diman?" You breathe out his name, searching for him even though your eyes are still closed.
"I'm here, my love," he hums. "I won't go anywhere."
"What about you?" You ask him, and the dragon can't help but chuckle. His own arousal is still hard and leaking between his hind legs, but there is no way you are up to explore the physical possibilities between the two of you.
"I can wait," he says, hauling you up in his hand gently to settle down in his nest with you close to his massive head. "Sleep, my mate."
As the new mate of the dragon living among the clouds and resting in the mountains, your old life becomes a quickly fading memory. And when your love starts to rebuild his cave just to make it more of a home for you, you never look back. Not once.
#monster romance#monster x human#monster x reader#monster boyfriend#sweet asks#monster smut#monster fucker#teratophillia#terat0philliac#exophelia#monsterfucker#terato#monster kink#monster lover#dragon x reader#dragon x human#dragon boyfriend#dragon smut
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The First Meet Self-Aware!Sylus
Is it still kidnapping if you’re in love with him? Yes. It is. Welcome to the N109 Zone get comfortable baby pt. 1 here
Self-Aware!Sylus who can call anywhere home, but is becoming less and less interested in the N109 zone because you’re not there “Well you can’t come here” “Why not?” “You’re not real Sylus how would you come here?” he turns tapping his chin as if he's actually trying to figure out a way to access your world “You could come here”
Sylus wouldn’t out right say it, but he was desperate to have you in his arms it just never seemed possible. There was nothing either of you could do so you settled for a love that would end tragically because you just couldn’t let him go. You found yourself daydreaming constantly about spending your days with him. What it would be like to hold his hand instead of your phone. To caress his cheek and feel his warmth in the palm of your hand. You gave yourself butterflies just imagining him melting into your touch.
Just him.
“You’re spacing out Princess” You slightly jumped at the sound of his voice. You glanced down at the celery you were mindlessly chopping. “Shit I didn’t mean to dice it” You huffed and scraped it onto the pan anyway; there was no way you were going back to the store right now. You looked back at Sylus who was casually sitting on his couch watching a musical. Sometimes it really made you feel crazy seeing him like this. Not the in-game repeated movements that he was programmed to do, but fluid movement and everyday life activities. It really felt like you were talking to a person and not just code in a game. “What are you watching?”
Sylus hummed off key as he answered “Heathers” You giggled at the fact that the big bad Onychinus leader watches musicals in his living room during his free time. “You should join me” He glanced at you from the corner of his eye and smiled to himself like there was some inside joke you didn’t catch. “Only in our dreams” You smiled at him, but it was somber the reality of your relationship always made you a little sad yet here you were doing nothing to end it. You turned back to stir the vegetables you had sautéing because the last thing you need is for them to overcook.
That's when you heard the clearest voice in your ear “Just dreams?” You spun around rapidly flinging food in the process. Your heart pounded against your chest as you scanned the empty kitchen looking for any other sign of life. You immediately swapped out the spoon for the knife you had just minutes earlier. “Sylus please tell me you heard that”
Silence.
You glanced at your phone and saw that the screen was off. “Is there a fucking demon in my house right now?” You snatched your phone ready to call a friend to come over, but your efforts were thwarted when a band of silky red and black mist wrapped around your wrist wrenching you backwards. “I’ve been called worse”
You breath hitched causing you to choke on your own spit as you came face to face with Sylus. Are you going crazy? You struggled against his evol that felt like what you could only describe as smoke with density. “I must be hallucinating” You’ve imagined having this man in front of you for months, but you had no idea he would be this terrifying in person. It felt like you were standing before a hungry wolf that wouldn’t second guess snapping your neck. Why was his demeanor so damn scary? Before you could even process what was happening Sylus grabbed you buy the waist and pulled you close to him. “I’m sorry Princess but this is probably going to hurt”
“Wha-” Pain seared through you in an instant like lightning and fire at once. Your mouth fell open in a silent scream as it felt like your vocal cords were singed to a crisp. The pain was unbearable it changed from searing to pins and needles almost like little pieces of you were splitting apart. You couldn’t handle it and your vision went dark as you passed out.
You came too slowly, groaning as you stretched your limbs on a stiff mattress. You sat up slowly realizing you were fine. Rolling your shoulders and rubbing your legs you were sure whatever that was must have just been a terrible dream. Maybe? “I knew I was dreaming” you couldn’t explain the amount of pain you felt though. You turned and noticed instead of your usual view of your room you were looking out amongst a vast dark city. “Where-”
“What do you think?” a voice said in your ear causing your fight or flight to kick in. You pulled your legs under yourself and swung your fist as hard as you could in the direction of the voice. The person groaned at the contact and you reached for the nearest object you could find which was a lamp and swung it, but your wrist was caught mid air and you were disarmed with ease. Within seconds you were pinned down on the mattress.
Your eyes widened in shock when you realized who was holding you down “Sylus?” He was just as intimidating as he was in your dream. Or was it a dream? “You’re not dreaming” Sylus squeezed your wrist tightly “Ow stop stop it hurts” he raised an eyebrow as his lip quirked up “See?” You rolled your eyes he was way too amused with your reaction for your liking. “We need to work on that right hook of yours it's a little weak” He can’t be serious right now you just punched him in his jaw and tried to beat him over the head with a lamp and the first thing he thinks of is training your punches to get better? Typical.
Sylus couldn’t help but, chuckle at your expression with your brows furrowed and your lips curled in frustration. “I wish you could see yourself right now” You pushed his face away with your free hand irritated with him for causing you that much pain.
“I wish you would get a new mattress why is this bitch so stiff my fucking back hurts” You squirmed underneath him. He inhaled a sharp breath making you freeze realizing the position you were in; he was nestled perfectly between your legs with one hand pinned above your head. Suddenly there was a knock at the door “Boss we heard some commotion are you okay?” Sylus rolled his eyes “I’m fine. Leave.”
“Yes boss” The sound of footsteps retreated until there was silence again. Sylus looked down at you furrowing his brows, this time is was your turn to smirk. “Don’t say it” He warned. Your lips quivered as you tried to stop your smile from forming “Are those my boys?” Sylus gave you a bored look before rolling his eyes at you as well. “Do you know how hard it was to bring you here Princess? You’re more excited for Luke and Kieran than me” Sylus expression seemed irritated, but the look in his eyes was pouty. You had Sylus jealous of his own men now that was an ego boost. You squirmed in his hold again trying to free yourself. “This is a lot for me Sylus you have some explaining to do" You kicked your legs like a toddler trying to sit up once again "And let me get up your mattress is not comfortable!”
Sylus huffed at your commands, but of course he listened getting up and pulling you with him. He had you straddle his lap with his hands gently placed on your waist. “Is this more comfortable?” He leaned back against the headboard his eyes traveling up and down your body. Based on the look in his eyes it was almost as if even he couldn’t believe you were not only in front of him, but on top of him at the moment.
“No! w-well y-yea but-” You cut yourself off to save face. This man really had you stuttering like porky the pig. You took a deep breath, gathering your thoughts as best as you could. “How the actual fuck am I here right now Sylus”
“Energy manipulation is stronger than you think” He shrugged like it was no big deal. “What the fuck does that even mean?”
“If you turn something into pure energy it can travel wherever you want it to even into as you call it a game world” His words bounced around in your head as you tried to make sense of them. What does he mean energy can travel anywhere. Then it hit you. The searing pain, pins and needles, the black out. “You turned me into pure energy to bring me here?!” You screamed in his face.
“Something like that” He replied in a bored tone “The shopkeeper said it should only hurt the first time” You rubbed your temples just trying to stay calm, how were you supposed to be okay with the fact that you were seemingly ripped apart and put back together inside of a damn game. You felt Sylus shifting underneath you and his hands running up your sides. “Tell me” he tilted your chin down so he could look you in the eye. “Are you not happy to have me like this?” he wrapped his arms around your waist while he rested his chin on your chest. “I can hear your heart beating fast”
“Of course I'm happy to see you” You cradled his face in your hands and he immediately melted into your touch. It was even better than you imagined it would be. His eyes closed and you could feel the satisfying hum that rumbled in his chest. You stared in awe at the sight before you; he was really melting because of you. He opened his eyes and dropped his gaze to your lips causing them to part “Prove it.”
You didn’t need to be a genius to know he wanted a kiss. You two spend many nights talking about it. He made you promise that if you ever actually met him the first thing you would do is kiss him. That promise was clearly broken since the first thing you did was punch him in the face. His lips looked so soft and full you didn’t hesitate to lean in and Sylus met you half way. It lasted no longer than three seconds before you pulled away. “What's wrong?" You shook your head and looked away “Nothing you’re just making me nervous”
You had no time to prepare yourself as Sylus slammed you back on your back and pressed his lips to yours in a heated kiss. Your eyes bugged out of your head before slightly rolling back as you gave into him. He nipped at your bottom lip and shoved his tongue in when you opened up for him. You thought he would be more rough, but he was actually so gentle. He kissed you like he was trying to perfectly mold your mouth to only fit his. No more like it was already made to fit only him. You wrapped you arms around his neck and snaked one hand up the back of his head tugging the hair at the nape. He smiled against your lips “Do that again” he whispered, hooking your leg over his hip. You tugged even harder this time relishing in the satisfied groan he let out.
You could do this for hours, but you had too many questions. You pulled his head away trying to catch your breath. “We’re not done talking Sylus” He sucked his teeth and sighed heavily as he sat up. This time he didn’t pull you onto his lap he helped you sit up and fixed your shirt that was riding up from him almost removing it. “Ask your questions” He leaned back against the headboard with his arms crossed. You couldn’t help, but giggle at the slight pout he was failing to hide. "For starters where can we buy a softer mattress?"
#love and deepspace#sylus love and deepspace#sylus#lads#lnds sylus#love and deepspace sylus#sylus lads#love and deepspace sylus#sylus lnds#lad sylus#sylus qin#l&ds sylus#lads sylus#sylus x reader#sylus x you#sylus salads#divider by saradika graphics#nikaaaaimagine
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Birthday Girl
On your 21st birthday, your friends drag you to a bar to get wasted when you decide it's a good idea to drunk-call Professor Agatha Harkness.
Word count: 3400+
Warnings: smut, fingering, oral, intoxication, mentions of underage drinking, teacher x student (legal)
“One, two, three!” Wanda chants and you and your friends tap your shot glasses on the bar counter and quickly down them.
You gasp at the burn and they laugh at you. It’s your 21st birthday and your best friends Wanda, Rio, and Natasha had dragged you out to the closest bar to get you wasted. They had all already turned 21 the year before; you were the baby in the group.
“Fuck, that’s disgusting,” you groan.
“Another round, please!” Rio motions to the bartender. He sets down four more tequila shots and one is shoved into your hand.
“Think you can get to 21?” Wanda jokes and the thought of 20 more shots makes you want to gag.
“I might puke after this one,” you say and your friends laugh. You were never a partier in high school or college, always preferring to curl up on the couch and watch a movie. You’d only had some sips of alcohol a few times, but you had never been drunk.
“You deserve this!” Nat shouts in your ear. “Harkness has been working you to the bone!”
You shrug and wave your hand dismissively, suddenly uncomfortable. Agatha Harkness is your History of Witchcraft professor at Westview University. She’s known around campus for being cold to everyone and rarely giving out A’s. She expected nothing short of excellence and would not put up with excuses. Everyone was terrified of her.
Everyone except for you.
Something about the older woman captivated you. You were obsessed with meeting her standards, dreaming of the day she would look at you with pride. You poured over your books for her class, rereading every sentence you wrote thrice, just to try to impress her. It had taken your friends days of begging to convince you to come celebrate your birthday with them because you had a paper for Agatha’s class due in a week and you were already worried about it.
“I don’t know how you’re surviving,” Wanda says. “I had her last semester and got a C in the class. Third highest grade. She’s the worst.”
“She’s not that bad,” you defend, not quite sure why. Something about Agatha getting so much hate for pushing her students rubs you the wrong way.
“Yeah she is,” Rio joins in. “I heard that she’s a real witch.”
You roll your eyes. “Can we please stop talking about her? I thought you guys brought me here to get away from school.” You take the shot that’s still in your hand and it goes down smoother this time.
“Yes, there we go!” Rio whoops.
Two more shots later and your head has gone completely fuzzy. You feel as if you are floating on air and everything around you is happening in slow motion. You get off your stool and immediately stumble, Wanda catching you with her arms.
“I think I’m a little drunk,” you tell her. She laughs like it’s the funniest thing you’ve ever heard.
“No shit, y/n, you don’t have to yell!”
You didn’t even realize you had. “We should probably go back to the dorms!” You look around to see Nat chatting with some girl and Rio throwing darts at the board in the corner.
“Not yet,” Wanda says, picking up her rum and coke. You’re not sure how she’s still drinking after she also did four tequila shots. “I’ll get you some water.” She signals to the bartender and you squeeze your eyes shut, willing your vision to go back to normal.
When you open them, you see dark hair in the corner. Is that–? You shift so you can get a better look and feel sorely disappointed when you realize the person is not Agatha. Why are you disappointed? The thought echoes in your head for a second, and then is replaced by a sudden urge to see your professor.
“Drink this,” Wanda orders, pressing a glass of ice water into your hand, but you’re too busy scrolling through your phone. You know she put her number on the syllabus somewhere and you are too far gone to think that this might be a bad idea.
You feel a thrill run through you when you find it. You read the number over and over, like you’re afraid it’s going to change somehow.
“I’ll be back,” you slur to Wanda and then step out the side door into the alley. You type the number into your phone and your finger hesitates over the call button. You know you shouldn’t. But fuck it. You press the button and lift the phone to your ear.
It rings. And then rings again. You’re about to hang up to spare yourself the rejection when the call connects.
“Hello?” It’s actually her.
Your breath catches in your throat and you stand up straighter. “Professor Harkness?”
“Y/n? Is that you?”
“Yeah.” Shit, this was a bad idea. Even with your head still swimming, you know that. You can’t just hang up though.
“Why are you calling me at 10:30 on a Saturday night?”
“Um,” you say, trying to think of something. You’re definitely going to have to drop her class after this. You’ll never be able to face her ever again. “It’s my birthday?” You offer lamely.
Agatha scoffs. “Happy birthday. Can I help you with something?”
“Oh, no, Professor, I just wanted – we’re at a bar – I thought you were – and just wanted to say hi,” you ramble, knowing you’re not making any sense, and you can almost hear her smirk through the phone.
“Y/n, are you drunk right now?” Her voice perks up and it sounds like she’s finally interested.
“No!” you protest. “Well, maybe a little. But I’m 21 now!”
“What bar are you at?”
“Jimmy’s.” It’s a local dive bar that is a popular place for Westview students to hang out at.
“I’ll be there in ten. Wait out front.” There’s a click and then she’s gone. You stare at your phone, dumbfounded. Is Agatha coming to pick you up? Why?
You walk back into the bar and order a Dirty Shirley. The call had sobered you up a bit and if you had already drunk-called your professor, why not get even more hammered. Wanda comes back over to you and giggles when she sees the new drink in your hand.
“Alright, time to party!” she exclaims. You pick up on the fact that she’s a little drunk as well. You stand up, vision blurring for a second.
“I actually called an uber,” you lie, even through your hazy mind knowing that your professor coming to pick you up might sound strange to them.
Wanda pouts and then throws her arms around you. “Happy birthday,” she says into your ear and your arms tighten around her.
“Thank you,” you breathe back. You’re close with Rio and Nat as well, but they don’t have the same bond you and Wanda do. You pull back and then go say goodbye to your other friends.
The wind outside does very little to sober you up and you shiver from the coldness. You’re wearing a purple crop-top and a black mini-skirt, something Nat had found buried deep in your closet. You watch the time on your phone, heartbeat picking up as it gets closer to ten minutes since Agatha had hung up on you.
And then right on the dot, a slick black Range Rover pulls into the parking lot, and you immediately know it’s her. The car stops right in front of you, the passenger window rolling down, and your breath catches.
It’s Professor Harkness, clad in a maroon suit, wavy hair falling over her shoulders.
“Do you need me to open the door for you, too, princess?” Agatha says, sarcasm dripping over the words, when you haven’t moved. You shake your head, partly to answer and partly to clear the fog. You settle into the seat, not missing the way Agatha’s eyes rake over your skimpily clothed body.
“You didn’t have to come get me,” you mutter, putting real effort into not slurring your words.
She glances at you and sees you struggling with your seatbelt. She reaches over and you freeze at her close proximity. Her breath is hot against your cheek and her fingers brush your stomach as she takes the seat belt from your hand and buckles it for you. “Thought I would spare the other people you drunk-called,” she says.
Embarrassment runs through you. “You were the only one,” you say meekly, picking at a scab on your hand. You dare to peek at her, only to find her smirking, one eyebrow quirked.
“Oh?”
“I shouldn’t have called.” This time, it’s harder to keep your words from running together. “We were talking about you and then I thought I saw you and I just wanted to see you.” You need to stop talking, now.
Agatha hums. “Did you, now?” She tucks a piece of hair behind her ears as she shifts the car into drive and you watch her fingers.
“You’re really hot,” you blurt out and then clamp a hand over your mouth. Fuck.
Instead of pulling over and making you get out, like you thought she would, Agatha simply reaches over and pats your leg. “And you’re really drunk, sweetheart.”
The pet name makes you swoon inwardly. “Not that drunk,” you say unconvincingly. “I only had one…two…” You trail off, attempting to count the number of drinks on your fingers. Agatha stifles a chuckle.
“Is this your first time drinking?” She asks, amused.
“No, but it is my first time drinking this much,” you admit. “My friends dragged me out since it’s my birthday. I was going to work on the essay for your class.”
“You were going to spend your 21st birthday doing school work?”
“Your essay’s due in a week. I wanted to make sure I-it was good enough for you.”
She notices your slip of tongue and her smirk sends heat down low in your stomach. “You’re always good for me. Your essays are some of the best I’ve ever read.”
Your heart skips a beat and your face flushes. “I have a B in your class.”
“You have an 88 in my class. That’s the highest I’ve had in years. Can’t make it too easy,” she says with a wink.
“You could make it just a little easier,” you grumble, the alcohol clearly getting rid of any inhibitions.
“You keep doing what you’re doing, sweetheart, and it’ll go up, I promise. I’m very impressed with the work you’ve been turning in.”
A hot flash runs through you. “Just wanna be your good girl.” And if it wasn’t clear how you feel about her now, it sure is. But she doesn’t look disgusted or creeped out, only intrigued.
She finally stops the car and you peer out the window, expecting to see your dorm. You haven’t been paying attention to where she’s been driving at all, and you’re quite surprised to see you’ve arrived at a two-story house in a cute, suburban neighborhood.
“This isn’t where I live,” you say dumbly.
“No, it’s not,” she agrees, getting out of the car and walking over to help you. You stumble up the steps to the front door, Agatha’s tight grip on your shoulder keeping you upright. You can feel her fingers playing with the ends of your hair.
She unlocks the front door just as a wave of nausea hits you. “Oh, god,” you say weakly, holding a hand in front of your mouth. Agatha doesn’t even seem phased; she leads you to a bathroom in the hall and leaves, only to re-enter with a glass of water moments later. You gulp it down and feel better.
“You okay?” she asks softly, stroking your cheek, eyes tracing up and down your face. You’ve never seen this side of her and you really like it.
“I think so. Thank you again,” you murmur and you realize that you’ve been staring at her mouth.
“Anything for my favorite student.”
And then, because you’re apparently determined to fuck everything up even more, you lean in and press your lips to hers. Agatha stands still for a second before you pull back, horrified with yourself.
“Professor, I am so sorry, I didn’t mean to–”
She draws you back in for a longer kiss this time, tongue licking into your mouth. You let out a long moan and she breaks away.
“You’re drunk,” she tells you again.
You clasp the lapels of her blazer. “I know. But I want you.”
She softly pries your fingers off her suit and smiles. “You need to sleep. And then we can talk about this in the morning.”
You pout and she runs her thumb over your bottom lip, slightly pulling it down. You suck her finger into your mouth, delighting in the way her eyes darken. She steps back.
“Let’s go. You can sleep in the guest room. I’ll find you some pajamas and toiletries.” Her hand on the small of your back guides you up the stairs and to the room on the right. The guest room is simple but cozy and you immediately go to the bed and flop onto it. “Don’t fall asleep yet,” Agatha warns and then leaves the room.
She comes back in a few minutes, an old shirt and sweatpants in one hand and a toothbrush and toothpaste in the other. She pats your legs in an effort to get you up but you can barely move, suddenly weighed down by all the drinks.
“Come on, hon,” Agatha says and helps you stand up. You don’t move as she works to take your shirt and skirt off, your cheeks and upper chest flushing red. You try to cover yourself and she smirks.
“M’sorry,” you mumble.
“Don’t be. I’m enjoying the view.” You stare at her longingly, silently begging her to fuck you right there and then, but she helps you step into the sweatpants and pull the shirt over your head. She watches you brush your teeth and moves the covers so you can get into bed. “Do you need anything else?”
Your hand grabs hers. “Just you,” you try again hopefully, but she chuckles and wrenches free of your grip.
“Good night, birthday girl,” she whispers and leans down to press a kiss to your forehead. And then she turns off the lights and leaves the room.
You fall asleep immediately.
***
Sunlight streams through the blinds, waking you up. It takes you a minute to get your bearings and then the events of last night come back to you.
The bar. Four shots of tequila and half a Dirty Shirley. Calling Agatha and her coming to pick you up and taking you to her house. Kissing her in the downstairs bathroom. Shit.
You groan, head pounding. You see a container of Advil and a glass of water on the nightstand beside you. You take two Advil and drain the glass, heart warming at the thought of Agatha taking such good care of you.
And then you remember that your relationship with her will forever be complicated by your actions.
You solemnly brush your teeth and pull back on the clothes you wore to the bar last night, neatly folding Agatha’s pajamas and placing them on the bed. You hope she hasn’t woken up yet so you can sneak out without her having to tell you how inappropriate you behaved last night.
No such luck. The second you get downstairs, Agatha perks up from where she’s typing on her laptop on the couch.
“Good morning, darling,” she purrs, shutting her computer. You gulp, taking her outfit in. She’s wearing a robe that ends mid-thigh and the neckline drops low.
“Hey,” you say casually, trying to hide how much you’re internally freaking out.
“Do you want something for breakfast? I can cook you something.” She stands up and walks to the kitchen and you follow like a lost puppy. You involuntarily lick your lips at the way her hips are swaying.
“What are my options?” Your voice is raspy, still feeling hungover. She glances back at you and her eyes dart up and down your body.
“I can make eggs. Bacon. I think I have pancake mix in the pantry. What would you like?”
You’re a little confused that she hasn’t scolded you yet. And then you remember something else. She kissed you.
You swallow hard. Whatever else you may have done last night that you can’t remember, she doesn’t hate you for it. She might even want you back.
“Are you on the menu?” It comes out before you can even realize what you’re saying.
Agatha freezes and turns around. You shift your weight nervously, but then you see her pupils blown out. Her eyes are so dark you can barely see any blue. “What?” She asks carefully.
“You kissed me last night,” you say, a little breathless. You have absolutely no idea where this confidence is coming from. “You wouldn’t do anything else cause I was drunk. But I’m not drunk now.”
She steps toward you and roughly grasps your hair. She tilts your head back, exposing your neck just a tad. “No, you’re not.” She regards you for a second. “You know you’re not going to get extra credit for trying to sleep with your professor.”
You laugh. “That’s not why I’m doing this.”
She smirks. “Good.” And then she licks a hot stripe up your neck and bites down, sucking a mark on your skin. You gasp loudly and tangle your hands into her hair.
“Professor,” you moan and you drag her into a filthy kiss. She backs you up until your thighs hit the table so she lifts you up onto it. Your legs wrap around her to pull her closer. Agatha pushes up your crop-top and kneads your breast, thumb stroking your nipple, never once breaking your kiss.
Her hand creeps under your skirt and cups your mound over your underwear. Your hips jump on their own at the stimulation.
“Please,” you beg. Her lips curl into a smile.
“What do you want?” Her fingers have pushed your underwear to the side and have started lazily stroking through your folds, spreading your wetness.
“You,” is all you can say before she sinks a finger into your hole.
“Like this?” She asks innocently, thrusting hard.
“Yes,” you pant, quickly untying her robe so you can touch her. She’s completely naked underneath and you lean down so you can take a nipple into your mouth.
“That’s perfect, baby,” she sighs, setting a relentless pace with her fingers after she slips another one in you. “Is this what you hoped would happen when you called me last night?”
“I’ve been hoping for this since the first day of the semester,” you answer, and she falters for a second, thrown off by your honesty.
She pulls out of you and panic runs through you, terrified that you said the wrong thing. But she just pushes you down so your back is resting on the table and she pulls out one of the chairs from the table.
“What are you–” Before you can finish your sentence, she leans forward and sucks your clit into her mouth. Your back arches off the table, hands rushing down to hold her in place. “Fuck, Professor!”
She devours your pussy like she’s a starving woman, pulling all sorts of loud noises from you.
“Oh my god, I’m gonna cum,” you chant, hips grinding on her face, trying to get the last bit of stimulation you need to send you over the edge. She knows what you need and presses her fingers inside you, curling them just right and gives your clit a hard last lick. You cum harder than you ever have before, her name on your lips like a prayer. She helps you ride through the aftershocks and then trails kisses up your body until she can kiss your mouth.
“How was that?” she asks after you pull away to catch your breath.
“That was probably the best birthday present I’ve ever gotten,” you say, which cracks both of you up. “But I’m not finished.”
Her eyebrow quirks up and she smirks. “Oh?” You stand up, putting your hands on her hips and flipping her around so she’s leaning against the table.
You sink to your knees in front of you, not even bothering with a chair. You slowly push her robe up so it bunches at her waist. “Can I return the favor?”
A glint appears in her eye and she fists one of her hands in your hair preemptively. “I’d like nothing more.”
#agatha smut#agatha harkness x reader#agatha harkness x fem!reader#agatha harkness x you#agatha x reader#agatha harkness smut#kathryn hahn x reader#agatha x you#agatha all along
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A second wife and a poet.
Cregan Stark x second wife! Blackwood!reader
Summary: The North pressured Cregan to marry again. He hates the thought of it, but at least the reader is someone he's comfortable with.
Warnings: mentions of death, fighting, battles, arguing, cursing, smut (p in v), and all that other stuff
A/n: Based on an ask sort of! This thing is so long I'm so sorry😭
Masterlist
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Cregan did not wish to marry again. The thought terrified him.
But he understood that his wishes were not taken into account when he was born with the Stark name.
Now, he nervously stood outside of the Winterfell walls, awaiting the young woman that would become his second wife.
Lord Samwell Blackwood's only daughter.
Cregan was not a religious man, but he prayed that this marriage would be better.
It would help further the alliance. That's what he told himself.
He swallowed the lump in his throat as her carriage came to a halt.
She stepped out.
She was different than what Cregan had remembered.
The Blackwood hair was obvious, the dark curly locks running down her shoulders effortlessly. He'd seen that same shade atop of Benjicot's head.
But the manner in which she carried herself was different. Very… un-Blackwood like.
She was nervous.
He'd never seen any of the Blackwoods ever hold an inkling of doubt to them. It was a strange sight.
Not that he could blame her.
She curtsied out of politeness, keeping her head down.
He shook his head, "Y/n."
Her head shot up to look at him. To really look at him.
She remembered him visiting Raventree Hall in their youth. Cregan had found a friendship in her brother, Benjicot, as did their fathers.
This had prompted lots of visits in the past.
Until Rickon Stark died and Cregan took the mantle his father left behind. He was only thirteen.
Now in his twenties, the permanent exhaustion shown in his eyes. The years had been hard to him.
He was nothing like the young boy that had once sparred with her brother.
"Cregan," she greeted back.
Their eyes met.
It was awkward. What do you say to someone you know and yet, don't know at all? Especially when both sides had endured such grief.
"Did-"
"I heard-"
They both stopped, not intending to interrupt one another.
"Please," Cregan gestured.
"No, I insist that you do."
An unsure breath escaped him. "Did Benji not accompany you?"
It was strange to hear the formidable Lord of Winterfell still refer to her brother as "Benji" as if they were kids again.
"No," she swallowed. "He had… more pressing matters to attend to. I hope you understand."
"Of course," he offered. "I was saddened, you know. To hear of the loss of your father."
The Battle at the Burning Mill had left her father, Samwell, and her cousin, Davos, dead in the dirt alongside many other men who fought by their side. It was a victory, but with victory came loss.
"As I, with your wife, I mean."
He nodded. "Thank you."
Silence swallowed them whole, both at a loss of what else they could possibly say to ease the other.
He took the time to study her, making a note of the way she tapped the tips of each finger to her thumb. A nervous tick, he made a note of. Benji did the same when he grew angry.
"Did your journey fair well-"
"-Yes," she quickly answered.
They both cursed inwardly.
"Right. Perhaps I should show you… Indoors?" He asked awkwardly.
She nodded. "Yes, yes of course."
…
She sat at the desk, laying her head down onto the wooden surface.
Judging by the way Cregan had only lingered in the doorway before, she had guessed that he hadn't entered the room since the passing of his wife.
Everything in it had remained the same.
It felt wrong. Like an invasion of privacy to open her own closet and see another woman's dresses in it.
"Shall I get these out for you, my lady?" Her handmaiden tried to ease.
"Leave them," she muttered. "I'll get them out when I'm ready."
"And when will that be?"
She sighed in defeat. "I dunno."
…
What a lousy first impression.
Cregan felt like punching a wall.
What an idiot.
Perhaps he was destined to always have a wife estranged to him. For that's how this one had begun.
It should've been easy. It was Benji's sister, for fuck's sake.
He tried to rack his mind of memories of his time in Raventree Hall. He was a much younger soul then and the memories of it had faded significantly with time.
But he did remember her faintly.
She was always around, but she never bothered them. Never spoke up. She always was somewhere near with a book or a thread and needle.
He just remembered the essence of her, but that was enough.
And the thought that war had broken the siblings up put an ache in Cregan's heart. He knew she'd be safe with him, but still. Benjicot couldn't even leave his duties long enough for a wedding ceremony. And she had just… accepted that.
This was his second chance.
He had to do better.
…
At dinner, he tried to ease the tension.
He cleared his throat, "You can write to your brother. If you wish, that is."
She set her spoon down gently and folded her hands into her lap. "That's kind. It would ease his mind to know I made my journey safely."
He grunted and took another sip of his broth. He tried to think of anything else.
But she spoke up again, "I was waiting to ask but… perhaps I should just ask."
He tilted his head down, "Yes?"
"Your son… he lived, didn't he?"
He could tell she shook a little as she asked. "He did. He eats in his room."
"Oh."
"Did you… Did you want to meet him?"
She pauses and a genuine smile breaks out on her face. "I'd be hard to be Lady Stark if I didn't."
He hangs his head in mock shame and he chuckles. "Right. That was foolish of me to ask."
"No, I understand." She shifted in her seat. "You're hesitant to replace his mother. You don't have to explain that to me."
"It's not that," he countered. "Well, not exactly. It's confusing."
"Alright?"
"My…" he paused. "Arra was one of my greatest friends in this world. But she was no wife. Our friendship grew to duty, and the love we shared for other another faded quickly. We seemed to argue more than we got along towards the end. It was… disheartening."
"I see."
He looked up at her and pushed himself to continue. "I fear you and I are not an even match."
A sudden jolt was felt in the pit of her stomach. "What?"
His eyes widened as he realized his choice of words, "No. No. I just meant… gods." He rubbed his forehead. "I have… experienced all the wonders of a man and wife already and you have not." Cregan looked around in thought. "Just seems unfair to you. In many ways."
She considered his words. He was right, she couldn't deny that. "Do you believe my brother had any doubt in this betrothal?"
Cregan's brows came together in confusion. "I don't understand."
"Everyone thought him so eager to sign me away, but that's anything but the truth. He knows you, Cregan. If it were any other man wishing for my hand, he would have denied it. Not you."
That brought an unusual warmth to his chest. "Why?"
The ends of her lips quirked up into a smile. "He said he'd never seen an equal opponent such as you. And only an equal opponent would be worthy of something so precious to him."
"Do you agree with him?" Cregan's voice whispered.
"I'm starting to."
The silence that had once been full of tension began to ease into one of comfort.
"All in your family are true warriors as well, my lady. Only a fool would deny that. Especially your father and… and your cousin, you said?"
She nodded, "Yes, yes, my cousin, Davos. Hard to think that we've considered the battle a victory with such a devastating loss."
He hummed, his interest shifting when speaking of something he may have insight on: war. "The Brackens lost family alike."
She scoffed. "All for a few more feet of territory? For stones?"
"Careful," he warned. "They didn't fight for stones. You're smarter than that. What did they fight for? Truly?"
She thought about it carefully before giving in to what answer she knew he was looking for. "Power."
"Exactly. Your father died for the chance of future Blackwoods gaining greater power. That's much nobler a death than stones, don't you think?"
"He died for Benjicot, then?"
"And you," he offered.
That struck a nerve in her. "Then why do I sit safely behind the walls of Winterfell when I should be fighting by my brother's side for future Blackwoods?"
There it was.
He knew she'd have Blackwood fire in there somewhere.
He only had to light it.
"Do you want to wage wars, sweet girl?"
"No," she countered. "But if it must be done."
"Spoken like a true noble," he chuckled. "It's not nearly the same, I know, but the Stark forces may appreciate your support. If you'll bless us with it."
She looked confused.
"Please tell me you wish to become a Stark. I cannot bare to think I'm forcing you into a marriage you'll be unhappy in. I've done it before and I won't do it again."
She felt a twist in her stomach at the tough man's voice faltering. She breathed in sharply, "I… I think I do."
Cregan couldn't accept that. "Please," he urged her to continue.
"I… I've been caught on the idea of younger you." She tilted her head to the side in thought as she stared at her bowl. "I'd happily marry my brother's best friend. But… the Lord of Winterfell? I dunno."
"He is one and the same," he protested.
"Is he?"
Cregan had never been rendered speechless in his life, yet there was a first for everything.
She let the silence set before speaking up, "Cregan was a boy with the very essence of life in him. I always thought he'd become a brave knight. He had a fire to him that you so rarely see. But Lord Stark? He has duty written into his very skin. The fire seems to have been tamed by sacrifice. He doesn't want a second wife. Nor do I blame him."
"I never said that!"
"You and I both know if Arra had birthed you one more heir, you wouldn't marry again at all."
"Stop." He commanded.
She faltered, pausing her words at his tone.
"It is true that I marry out of pure encouragement from my council. But that does not mean the end of our friendship. Please don't let it be."
"Cregan, you and I were never friends. You marry me with the memories of friendship you have with my brother. You know I am not him."
"I do!" He yelled. He softened. "I do. You're not like him at all."
That weighed on the two of them like bricks.
She stared down at her bowl again. "I wish you'd have known my cousin, Davos, closely. My father used to say that the gods placed twins in separate wombs to keep us from ending the world." She laughed lightly, "He and I were inseparable."
"I heard Lord Davos only loved sparring and getting into trouble."
"Do you believe he only managed trouble on his own?" She questioned. "He was fiery on his own, yes, but I only encouraged it. I should have been there. At the border. I could've… I could've kept the battle from starting."
Cregan scoffed lightly, "There was no way to keep an inevitable battle from beginning."
"But I might have prolonged it all further," she tried. "Kept the tension just a while longer."
"Until what? Until it is your brother losing his head? Or worse, you?"
"Yes."
She wasn't that nervous girl from before. No. She was indeed a Blackwood. There was no question about that.
He sighed and clenched his fist. "We wed tomorrow. I'd rather my betrothed sleep well tonight with hopeful wishes rather than regrets and guilt."
She stood. "Maybe you're marrying the wrong woman then."
He watched her walk out, completely stunned.
It reminded him too much of Arra.
…
The tension hadn't relieved itself if the glare in Cregan's eyes were any indicator.
It was a steady glare. More one that seemed to study her, trying to figure out what makes her tick.
Seems she was the very thing that made him tick.
She had glared back at the beginning of the ceremony, insistent on giving back every look that was sent her way, but slowly, that had changed to something else.
Her nerves returned.
He didn't notice at first, but he saw the way her hand shook so violently she almost didn't get the cup to her lips without spilling the liquid inside.
He was wracked with guilt.
He had once again forced a woman to "love" him.
"I've called off the bedding ceremony," he spoke lowly. "If that's any help."
"It's not."
He was shocked by the way she had so easily pushed away his attempt to ease her. Like she'd kicked the last leg Cregan was standing on.
"Get up."
"What?"
"Get up. We're going."
She stared in shock. "Cregan, forgive me. I was-"
"C'mon. I'm firm on this."
When she didn't move, he grabbed her by her bicep, yanking her up and beginning to pull her through the dining hall. Both ignored the cheers and chants of what the people believed would happen in the couple's private chambers.
Once dragged to his room, she pulled her arms from his vice grip and smoothed out her dress. "Is that what you wanted? A newly wedded wife in tears? Because you're awfully close to it, Lord Stark."
"Fuck," he cursed under his breath. "I'm not sleeping with you tonight. I refuse."
"What?"
"I'm not sleeping with you tonight. I refuse." He repeated with more force. He ran a hand through his hair.
She shrugged off his cloak that he had placed on her during the ceremony and threw it aside. "You won't even let me perform my duties because you don't want to fulfill yours?"
"Y/n," he warned. "That's not how I meant it."
"I can't read you. Do you hate me? Do you love me? Gods, you're insufferable."
"-and you're blind."
"Oh! Enlighten me, then, oh great Lord Stark."
"I loved you. I still do."
She spun around to face him.
Cregan stood firmly. His eyes spoke more than his words did. He was insistent on having her trust him.
"I don't believe that," she scoffed.
"Oh really?" He walked to his bureau and pulled out a small wooden box. He threw it onto the bed. "Have a look for yourself."
She looked him up and down before hesitantly walking over to the box. Sitting next to it, she pulled it open and examined the contents.
Letters.
"What is this?"
"Every letter I tried to write to you the day I became the Lord of Winterfell. I had… foolish dreams of maybe having you as a wife. I was only a boy then."
She sat straight. "Why keep them?"
He shrugged. "I'm sentimental, I suppose. I had tried to burn them- many times, in all honestly. Couldn't bring myself to do it."
"May I?"
He nodded, anxiety filling his gut.
Her nimble fingers picked up the letter that sat on top.
"There's a few others in there," he informed her as he sat on the other side of the bed. "All regarding you, of course. Letters to your brother, your father, you know."
She unraveled the latter despite shaky fingers.
My loyalist friend Benjicot, I heard of the passing of your father. You have my deepest condolences. I understand all too well the feelings of honor and duty that have now been placed on your shoulders despite the grief that already weighs them down. Regarding your sister, perhaps she may find a home in Wint
The letter stopped there, and she looked up at him.
"Some are… more recent, actually."
She nodded. "I see that."
He leaned to her, reading the letter with a light blush. "I'm not very well-spoken in writing, so I make lots of drafts."
"And they're all here?"
"Yes. Yes, all of them." He tapped the side of the box with his large hand. "Well, most of them."
She decided not to press the matter, placing the letter back and picking up an older one from deeper in the box.
This one had much sloppier handwriting, the page evidently aged.
Lady Blackwood, As the Leader of the North, I want you and Benji to visit as often as possible. I might be a lord, but I will always have time for the Blackwoods. Perhaps I can even teach you archery like you have so desperately wanted. Everyone knows I'm better at it than Benji is. Cregan
"Why did you never send them?"
He scoffed. "Read that again and tell me that was ever appropriate to send as the Warden of the North."
"You were a child then, as was I. It's in good favor."
"It's unbecoming of a cold northern lord, though." He reached out to take the letter from her but she held it out of his reach.
"Only yesterday, you told me this boy and the man in front of me were one and the same."
"And they are," he urged.
"That's bullshit and you know it."
"It's not!"
"Prove it."
He stared with an unreadable expression.
She was insufferable, stubborn, witty, gracious, giving, honest…
He crashed his lips onto hers.
She let out a small yelp in surprise, but just as quickly melted into him, kissing him back with just as much enthusiasm.
"This," she panted again his lips. "This is a bad idea."
He kissed her again, then pulled away just enough to speak, pressing his forehead to hers. "What is?"
"Loving each other."
He grinned. "I don't care."
She groaned and moved back to him, capturing his lips again.
He pushed her onto the bed, throwing the wooden box onto the ground with a loud crash before getting on top of her.
She tried to sit up at the sound, breaking away from him for only a moment, "you could've torn them."
"Why does it matter?"
"I want to save them."
He chuckled, "Lovely woman, you'd rather save scraps of paper from a man's youth than indulge in your desires with the very man that wrote them?"
She ignored the butterflies in her stomach as Cregan's thumb brushed over her cheek. "I never said that."
Cregan tilted his head in teasing disbelief. "Then tell me what you want."
"I want-" she paused. What did she want? Mere moments ago, she wanted to return to Raventree Hall and be rid of the northerner. Now, she wanted to bask in anything that he gave her. "I want Arra's dresses out of my wardrobe."
Cregan blinked, clearly taken out of the moment. He sat up. "What?"
She sat up with him. "You may keep them if you wish, but I'm tired of the reminder of her presence every morning, noon, and night."
"Consider it done," he urged. "I'll have them moved immediately. Any of it you want will be gone within the hour."
"No, I don't-" she sighed. "I don't want her gone, per se. She was a part of you, and therefore a part of us. She's given you a son. To rid Rickon of his mother's memory and you of your first wife should be considered a crime."
"But if I live in the past, I can't enjoy what's in front of me."
"Aye, but you're not doing that," she grinned. "You've got a pretty girl in your bed. Seems like you're enjoying the present."
He didn't grin back, only sighing softly and nodding. "I hope you do forgive me. For forcing this."
"Cregan, you did not force it. Benji gave me a choice." When he gawked at her, she continued. "He encouraged me to accept, yes. But he did not force my hand. I wanted to do this. I wanted to marry you."
"You wanted to please your brother and I or you wanted to be Lady Stark?" He questioned.
"I wanted to be the wife of the man I once knew when he was a boy."
He accepted her answer happily, kissing her once again. This time, it was soft and careful.
She reached her hands up into his hair, tugging delicately at the dark strands. His breath hitched and he brought one of his own hands up as well. His hand gripped over hers. He pulled his hand into a fist, forcing hers as well, and encouraged her to tug harshly on his hair. She took the encouragement, beginning to yank.
He felt a shiver go down his spine and his mouth opened in a moan. She grinned and took that as an invitation to kiss down his jaw. He tilted his head up to give her room to do so.
"I… I lied," he whispered as his hands roamed over his waist. "I think I do want you tonight."
She nipped at a spot under his neck. "I think I want you too."
He grunted at that and pulled her away from him. "Tell me what you want. Truly."
"What do you mean?"
He sighed, "I've had a first wedding night. I want you to have yours the way you want it."
"I… I don't know what I want."
He absentmindedly rubbed at her hip. "Then perhaps we'll try things until you decide."
She nodded. "Th…things? There are multiple things to do?"
He pulled her head back a bit by her hair and kissed her pulse point. "Many."
"But how…"
He couldn't lie and say he hadn't been yearning for some kind of release these last few years. Between Arra's pregnancy, the birth, and the years after her death, Cregan had not laid with another woman. He found himself yearning desperately for touch, of any sort really.
And how lucky was he that hers was so soft.
He pushed her down on the bed softly. "Trust me?"
"In every lifetime."
Overcome with lust, he pressed his lips to hers again, starting back up the heat in their stomachs that they had played with so eagerly.
Cregan reached up the tunic on his back, pulling it over his head. He tried to connect their lips again but she kept him from doing so.
She trailed a hand down his shoulder and to his bicep, taking in the sight of his bare torso. Her fingers paused at the feeling of a scar on his arm. Her fingers faltered.
"It's a rather nasty scar," he whispered.
"My brother gave it to you."
"Aye," His eyes lit up. "He pushed me into a stream and-"
"-and you fell on a rock. I remember my father being so angry with him."
He kissed her yet again, and the two continued as before with a deeper connection than they had thought.
He pulled her skirt up with one hand and caressed the inside of her thigh.
She jerked at the feeling in uncertainty. "What d-"
"Just tell me how it feels, alright?"
When she nodded, he spoke again, "Sit up for me. We'll get this dress off of you."
…
"Cre… Cregan…"
"I know. You're doing good," he panted into her ear.
"I… there's… a feeling…"
"I know. I know, it's alright."
He pushed down on her stomach as he thrusted deeper into her, making her moan and tears pull at her eyes.
"Give in to it. It's okay."
"I can't… I… I'm scared…" she sobbed lightly.
The hand on her stomach moved around her body, arching her back up to him. He held her closely against him in an attempt to comfort her. "I've got you." He placed open mouth kisses on her neck.
She scratched at his back harshly as she reached her peak. A whine left her lips.
"I've got you," he panted as his hips slowed when his peak neared. "I've got you."
She felt overstimulated and exhaustion filled her body. She closed her eyes for just a moment. Just a moment.
…
She woke up to the feeling of sunlight on her skin. Her eyes creaked open.
She groaned at the ache between her legs, a slight shake in the muscles of her legs.
But what caught her attention was the tray that laid on the other side of the bed. A full breakfast sat where Cregan had supposedly once laid.
She sat up and picked up the note that lay on the tray.
My beautiful wife, I hope you'll take the words of a poorly worded poet to heart, for this is a letter that I finally am sending you. No more drafts hidden in boxes and no secrets to keep. My first draft shall always be my last when addressed to you. I dare say I despise arguments. I'm not as highly tempered as your brother, and I find that I don't run hot. I suppose that it's the chill of the North that has done that. Regardless, may this be our last fight for a long while. I have had Arra's clothing removed from all closets, and the traces of her are now few. Her portrait stays in the library and her remains in the crypts, but the greatest things she left behind were my boy and a gash in my heart. I believe you'll care for both of those things greatly. But you'll not live in that room. You'll find your dresses in my wardrobe now. I don't believe I can part from you for too long now that I have you. This will be my first and last letter to you, for now you'll hear everything from my lips alone. But I thought you deserved at least one letter after all these years. Your Cregan
"I told them to fetch me when you woke up," he commented from the doorway.
She gasped at his sudden appearance, "Good morning."
"It's after high noon, I dare say."
"Is it?" She looked at the window. "I'm sorry. It was not my intention to-"
"-Are you alright?" He interrupted.
Her brows furrowed. "I'm fine."
"I've never had a woman succumb to sleep like you did. Felt I did something wrong." He rubbed at his shoulder anxiously.
"No, it felt… it felt good. Quite good," she nodded. She took into account that she was still naked in his bed, but she was rather clean. "Did you…"
He flushed. "Oh. Um.. no. No, I didn't. Don't worry."
"Why not?"
"Well, it's not that I didn't want to," he tried to explain then backtracked. "I mean… you fell asleep and once I knew you were alright, I um… I couldn't do that to you."
"That's," she hummed. "That's noble of you."
He chuckled. "It's the least I could do for you. And the note?" He asked to change the subject.
She held it up and reread it. "Thank you. For… all of it."
He stepped to the side and kissed her head, "Anything for my beautiful wife."
"And you, my poet, Lord Stark."
He gripped her chin and forced her head up to look at him. "Don't let the others know," he teased.
"I dare not. This is something I want all to myself."
"Then you have me- heart, mind, and body."
.......................................
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#fanfiction#cregan stark x reader#game of thrones x reader#house of the dragon fanfiction#game of thrones x y/n#cregan stark x y/n#game of thrones fanfiction#game of thrones imagine#cregan stark x you#cregan stark imagine#cregan x reader#cregan stark#cregan fanfiction#cregan x you#cregan x y/n#cregan stark x female reader#cregan stark fanfic#hotd cregan#cregan stark x blackwood!reader#drew drools over cregan stark
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Im not sure if your request are open but if they are- a fic with Lando based off the song lose control by Teddy swims. Angst and smut, the whole works😩
But if your request are not open and you see this I hope you have an amazing day/night 🫶
(also I absolutely love your writing. Binge read majority of them the first day I got tumblr and I’m obsessed)
[LOSE CONTROL!]
𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐘: you and lando had ended things on a good note... or so you thought. you didn't expect to find him at your front door begging for a second chance. or in which lando doesn't know when to give up.
𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒: 18+ (minor dni), mentions of magui (not a fan of what she's done but this is fiction), angst, jealousy, cheesy confessions, unprotected sex (pretty please use protection), teasing, slight-public roleplay? breast play, eating out, fingering, oral sex, p in v, cumming inside, mentions of crashing, technically infidelity on lando's part, poor humour, fluff, and poor proofreading.
𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆: ex-fwb!lando norris x fem!reader, special appearances: magui corceiro and joão felix.
𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃 𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐓: 9k+
𝐀/𝐍: first of all so sorry for taking this up so late! my bad... but it's done! in time for my 2k special! yes that's right, there are two thousands of you little buggers reading my work! i'm ever so grateful, especially because i'm the most inconsistent person i know! thank you for putting up with me, for reading my work, and for your cute little comments. they all make me very happy in such a tough time i've been going through. sending you my ever grateful love from the bottom of my heart ♡︎ p.s it's my 100th post shocker!
𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓
"I miss you."
Lando's voice was always like this. Slightly croaky and brittle yet warm and full of need. For you it was a sort of drug. It always pulled you in, it blurred the line between wrong and right, and you always came back for more. And when it was paired with those brown tinged blue eyes of his and all the freckles on his face, you were a goner.
"Lando," you sighed, leaning on your door frame. It was one in the morning. You were asleep but ever so gracefully woken up to the consistent ring of your doorbell. You rubbed your face with an exhaustion not familiar to your slumber but familiar to the antics of Lando himself. The words fell from your lips in an eased flow. "You can't be here. You don't miss me. You need to leave."
You tried to avoid his pained eyes but everywhere you looked, you met them in some shape or form.
"But I do miss you. I miss everything about you. Your smile, your lips, your body, your laugh, fuck, everything."
You blinked slowly, wondering how you had got here. How is it that the decisions and choice you made in life lead to Lando Norris pleading at your front door at one in the morning?
Ah...
There was an answer to that.
As the story goes, around a year ago, you were with Lando. 'With' was a loose term. It was supposed to be friends with benefits. You had been for almost a year by that point. Naturally, the only rule to being friends with benefits was to not fall in love with each other. And as natural as that rule was, there was a common saying: 'Rules are meant to be broken.'
You and Lando both realised it. But it terrified you the most. You weren't cut out for this. Things were already hard enough as it was sneaking around.
Travelling on the private jets, facing the media and the public, having to watch Lando race every weekend and pray for him wellbeing... it wasn't exactly your cup of tea. It was exactly why you were friends with benefits in the first place.
So you ended it. Lando wasn't happy about it but he respected it.
That was the end of your story.
Or so you thought.
"Lan, you're in a relationship. For fuck's sake, please can you consider her at least?"
Lando ran a hand through his dark mop of curls, sighing while holding back the eye roll at the mention of his intricately created PR relationship. He knew you were right. You often were. But you weren't understanding him. He didn't think you ever could, no matter how much he tried to explain it to you.
You and him... you were made for each other. He knew it from the bottom of his heart. You were perfect. Together, you were perfect. There was no one like you. And for him, there was no one else. Not ever. No matter who he dated or who he was with, he'd be damned if there was someone else other than you.
Lando's tongue poked his cheek, eyes firmly on you. "Are you coming this Sunday? In the evening?"
This race weekend was the Silverstone circuit and in the same day, afterwards, was a dinner party with the drivers, families, and friends. In other words, it was a recipe for disaster.
"I don't think I should..." you trailed off, internally wincing when you knew deep down you should've just said you weren't coming rather than being open to it. When it came to the blue-eyed boy in front of you, any assertiveness you ever had was thrown out the window.
Lando reached to grab your hands, fingers automatically rubbing smooth circles into your skin. "Please come," he pleaded, "if not for me, come for mum and dad, hmm? They miss having you around."
You pressed your lips together, eyes falling onto the floor as you began to chew your lip. "Lando, I can't come. It doesn't look good... for the both of–"
"She won't be there."
Your eyes flickered up to Lando, widening slightly at his words.
With an eager sharpe intake of air, he doubled down on his response. "If that's why you're saying no, she won't be there."
You tilted your head, giving him an almost dry look. "You know that's not even half of the reason." A sigh fell from your lips. "Go home, Lando. You've got practice tomorrow. You need sleep."
Lando's eyes softened. You always kept track of those small things for him, scolding him for not going to sleep early or not taking care of himself. It was like old times all over again. His grip around your hands tightened. "I will," He promised, "but tell me you're coming on Sunday. Please."
You cursed at yourself. It was that same voice. That one with so much need and desperation. It was as if a voice gained the ability to have puppy eyes.
Reluctantly, you nodded slowly. "Fine... I'll come," you relented.
A smile finally sprawled across Lando's face, hands moving to quickly bring you into a hug. His arms felt comfortable, bringing an ease you hadn't felt in over a year. "Thank you."
Your eyes widened when you felt a quick kiss on your cheek, still lingering after Lando parted. He grinned, taking a few steps back from you. "I'll see you Sunday. "
━━━━━━━━━━━
The Sunday jitters were real. You couldn't ever truly imagine how anyone of the drivers felt on race day but you imagined it to be something like this.
The way your heart was thumping, one would think you have an odd case of arrhythmia. You were working up a sweat masked by the anxious sprays of perfume you had lathered on and all you were doing was standing.
You hadn't watched the race in person because that was equally as idiotic as going to a brunch where the person you love and his family was despite him having a girlfriend. And you didn't want to be twice as idiotic. In the end, Lando had gotten a well-earned P3 at his home race, despite the mistakes of his team.
You were happy for him. But it didn't rule out the fact you were in a serious dilemma of awkwardness as you dawdled outside of the venue. Your fingers twirled around the fabric of your dress.
You shouldn't of worn it. It was Lando's favourite. You knew that.
Hell, you shouldn't be here.
You should go home.
It wasn't too late.
Your name abruptly sprung into the air. "Is that you?"
Well shit.
You took a slow turn on your feet, a sheepish smile automatically working its way onto your face. "Mr and Mrs Norris!" you greeted.
An amused huff fell from Lando's mother's mouth. "Please! You know you can call by our names!"
Somewhere in the back of your head, you could feel your mother's voice nagging you at the very thought of calling them by their names.
Cisca smiled, bringing you into a warm hug. "God, we've miss you!" Pulling away after a few seconds, she took another few to observe you. "You've become more beautiful since we last saw you, isn't that right, Adam?"
Lando's father chuckled. "Not more than you though," he teased only to get a playful elbow from his wife. He turned to you and grinned, reminding you exactly where Lando's came from. "The girls will be so happy to see you, sweetie. Oliver too."
You laughed gently, thanking them. Your mouth felt dry. Usually you knew what to say to them. But it had been so long, you weren't sure what to say. Whether it was right or wrong. How much Lando had even said...
"Lando was telling us how you've been busy studying, is that right? You've been doing your master's?" His father queried.
Speak of the devil...
You nodded slowly. "Yes. It's research based so it's quite, uh, time consuming. So I just wanted to put a year dedicated to it. That's why I haven't been around as much."
Both of his parents nodded in understanding. His mother pouted, "While it's been sad without you, I'm very proud of you. A bachelors is no easy feat let alone a master's!"
Your heart constricted while her soft eyes met yours. His mother was always like this. Talking you... treating you as if you were her daughter. You never understood it. You'd only known each other for a couple of years including the period were you and Lando were with each other.
You asked her a month before you had ended it with Lando how she knew you so well. Her response... you could've never forgotten it even if you willed it. '"A mother knows everything. What's good and bad for their children. You know it as mother's intuition. When I look at you, I just know."'
"'Know what?'" You remembered asking.
"How important you are to Lando."
And that was when you realised you were completely and utterly in love with him.
"If you two are done talking, we should finally go inside," Lando's father continued to tease.
You sucked in a sharp breath as you walked with his parents inside the venue.
It was definitely too late.
━━━━━━━━━━━
To be honest, Lando had seen many beautiful things in life. Life, if you looked at it carefully, perhaps on a slight angle, was beautiful. And besides, they say beauty is in the eye of the beholder.
But the sight of you walking into the venue, arm linked with his own mother and you chatting with his father was forever etched into his brain.
He could've sworn his heart was leaping out of his chest. Everything about what he was seeing was perfect. Your smile, the atmosphere, the sun shining down on you, the sound of your laugh, your hair, the wind, the dress... God, he could go on and on.
"Lando! Look who we met outside!" His mother cheered making him grin.
"Well, well, well," Lando smiled, giving his mother a kiss on the cheek before hugging his father. He stepped back, blue eyes fixated on you. He stretched out his arms, waiting for a hug making you sigh and his parents laugh softly.
You took a step forward, reaching your hands to wrap around his back while Lando's own hands fell to your waist and brought you close. His classic Tom Ford perfume lingered around you as he whispered in your ear. "You came."
"I promised," you responded softly, pulling back only for him to tighten his grip on you. You suppressed an eye roll. "Congrats on P3. You did well."
Lando perked up at the mention of his race and finally pulled back. "You watched?"
"I–" Your voice was interrupted by another familiar Brit.
"Is that who I think it is?" Alex queried with his usual wide grin.
Now it was your turn to roll your eyes. "Depends... is it the most prettiest girl? After Lily, of course."
Alex chuckled. "Is there any other answer?"
You pretended to ponder. "Nope! That's the one." You both laughed as you gave each other a hug.
"Where have you been? I needed someone to give me company on the tracks. It's been so lonely," He complained dramatically.
And without realising it, you were back to meeting everyone you hadn't seen in a long time. Weirdly enough, you missed this. Talking to everyone, joking around, just spending time with them... it gave you some sort of peace.
"Okay! Oscar, you're time's up," Lando announced, standing at the table you, Oscar and his girlfriend, Lily, were seated at.
Oscar gaped at his teammate. "But we only just met her!"
Lando gave a sickly sweet smile. "Aw... tough. Now scram!"
You shook your head as you watched the couple leave the table. "You are the worst," you said, leaning on your arm while Lando took a seat next to you.
"I haven't seen you in so long! Sue me for wanting to spend time with you," Lando shrugged in his defence, blue eyes trained on you.
You blinked, averting your eyes to the rest of the party. "I going to get some champagne," you murmured, standing up to go the table full of various spirits and juices.
You cursed silently as you caught Lando following after you from your peripheral. Arriving to the table, your fingers danced around, looking for the right glass of bubbles.
"You're ignoring me," Lando stated, hot breath skimming past your ear as he stood inches away from you.
You kept your eyes on the alcohol, letting a small laugh fall from your lips. "Gee, has anyone ever told you that you're a smart cookie, Lando"?
Lando pursed his lips. "I miss you."
You sighed at the familiar words, fingers wrapping around a glass of what you were pretty sure was Dom Perignon leisurely being given. "Lando... stop it. I came here because you wanted me to, okay? Just forget about whatever it is you're thinking about."
You sucked in a sharp breath when you felt Lando's hand travel to yours, fingers just hanging on to each other. You hated how his touch made you feel so... so tingly. As if you were having your first crush.
"So that's why you wore this dress? To tell me to stop? Because I wanted you here?" He laughed softly, playing with your fingers. He shook his head. "I can't even imagine what you'd do if I told you every single thought running through my head right now."
Your eyes widened. You shakily put back the glass of champagne.
"Lan–" Your voice cut off upon the feeling of his fingers trailing at the back of your neck. You gulped while Lando's voice continued to linger.
"How much of a mistake do you think this really is? Wearing my favourite dress? Don't think I haven't seen that necklace on you. Let's turn that pendant around and show everyone who's name is on it, hmm?"
Your eyes widened. Shit. You had completely forgotten about the necklace. You had spent all your time using it on the front side that you had forgotten about his initial's engraved on the back.
Lando's tongue trailed over his bottom lip, head tilting to the side. "Sweetheart, I'm torn. You have no idea how gorgeous you look. But you have no idea how much I would give... what I would do to take you home right now. That dress would be off and my fingers would be on you. Fuck, just imagining it, I–"
"Lando!"
You and Lando both furrowed your brows, chests heaving breathlessly. You definitely didn't say his name nor did you sound like that. Turning your head slightly, the view made you take wide steps back from Lando.
Lando mended his brows even more, only smoothing them when he saw what you had seen. "B-Baby!" The endearment failed to come out of his mouth smoothly, making you wince.
You watched Lando hug the blonde girl in front of you. "What are you doing here? I thought you were in Brazil?" He asked, only just covering up his sheer curiosity.
"I was but I wanted to surprise you... so surprise!"
A surprise... yes it was.
You blinked as the blonde turned to you, extended her hand, and introduced herself. Awkwardly, you returned the kind gesture because ultimately she had done nothing wrong to you.
You introduced yourself as Lando's old friend because it was the safest bet. And it was the truth... to some degree.
"Can I get you anything to drink?" Lando asked his girlfriend as a queasy feeling began to form in your stomach. You think you can hear her respond, settling for a glass. You weren't sure. Your ears were tuning in and out of this noise. Out of your peripheral you see the driver turn to you. "Did you still want your champagne?"
You let out a low exhale and gave the both of them a tight smile. "It's okay. I was just leaving."
The smile on Lando's face dropped. "W-What? Already?"
You nodded curtly. "Lots of things to do."
Lando narrowed his eyes. "Like what? It's barely seven... the day's almost over..."
Your eyes widened, feeling startled as an awkward laugh fell from his girlfriend's lips. "Lan, the girl said she has things to do. Stop grilling her. Sorry... must be the post-race adrenaline or something. It's a shame you can't stick around though. See you around?"
You gave a small smile, slightly irritated at how genuine and sweet she was. You actually wished there was something about her to hate. "Yeah," You agreed softly, "See you around."
━━━━━━━━━━━
About thirty minutes had passed since you left the dinner party, much to everyone's dismay.
You were exhausted.
You only just had the energy to take off your heels and put aside your purse before you fell onto your bed. Sighing, you stared at the ceiling. What even was life anymore?
You couldn't believe yourself. You were so angry and pissed off at Lando and you were jealous of his girlfriend.
There wasn't any rocket science to it. You were still very much in love with Lando. You shouldn't be but you were.
Your mother once told you that love wasn't black and white. It was the blurred line between: it was grey. It was never as simple as being in love or not. You fall in love and fall out of it and just as you did, you would fall once again but with someone else entirely. And sometimes it compelled idiotic things like infidelity or rebounds.
Love was also seasonal. It changed all the time and sometimes you enjoyed it and sometimes it made you suffer. It was entirely demanding. It drove people crazy. It was overwhelming and yet so lonely.
Point in case: love sucked.
And you and Lando had not escaped from it.
You weren't sure if you ever could.
But you had to. It was the right thing to do. Maintaining boundaries was the right way to go.
You blew some air up to your face, pushing the hair out of your face. Nodding to yourself, you told yourself you were getting over Lando.
You sat straight at the sound of your doorbell ringing throughout your house. Begrudgingly you walked towards the door, a hundred percent sure it was your neighbour a floor down. She was a sweet, quiet old lady who fit the 'crazy cat lady' persona a bit too well. Often, she came to you asking if you had seen a cat of hers but the worst part was that all of her cats were the tabby orange type. How she could tell the difference was beyond you, no more than how exactly the cats were using elevators and opening fire exits to get to your floor.
Without thinking too much, you opened the door to greet the lady but all the words you had ever known fell to the air upon seeing Lando.
"Lando," you took a calm deep breath, "Please tell me I'm hallucinating or that you're not actually in front of my door right now."
"I can't do that," Lando said, eyes burning with something a bit too familiar.
Wordlessly, you begun closing the door. But the jutted foot of Lando's quickly intercepted the act. "Please," Lando pleaded, coming into your apartment.
You let out a distressed sigh as you hear the door close. "Lando, you can't be here. You're supposed to be at a dinner party. With your friends... family, with your girlfriend, oh my God, with your freaking girlfriend, Lando."
"But you're the only one on my mind," Lando breathed, watching you walk around your house. His arm reached out to your waist, stopping your endless rounds of circles. He could feel you take a sharp intake of air, standing still at his touch. Holding you close, his lips lingered near your ear while his warmth enveloped you.
"I think I'm going crazy," he murmured. "You're in my dreams. Even when I look at her, I see your face. You're fucking everywhere, sweetheart."
You pursued your lips together. "Why do you have to make things so difficult?" you asked quietly, not to Lando in particular but to the silence of your house.
"Then tell me... that you don't want me here. That you don't feel the same way. Tell me... tell me you don't love me. Then I'll leave. I promise."
"I–" you paused, turning your body to him. You could feel his eyes searching your face but you couldn't even lift your head up. "I don't love you."
A lengthy silence ensued and it spoke volumes.
Finally, a soft chuckle from Lando's lips broke the silence. "You can't even look me in the eye and tell me that."
You threw your head back with an exhausted sigh, giving up. Your hands began to flail about. "What more do you want from me, Lando? Why can't you just leave me, us, alone?"
Lando's hand travelled to your jaw, pulling you in a mere inch away from his face. His grip was soft and warm, lulling you. "I can't leave you alone... I can't ever leave you alone. You don't get it," a cry of frustration fell from his lips while his eyes watered, "You were made for me and I was made for you. You... you are all I ever think about. I can't breathe without you. I exist for you. I am so fucking in love with you, it scares me. And i-if you tell me you love me, I'll break up with her right now."
Your eyes burned with an all but familiar salty liquid. "Lando... I can't."
Lando clenched his jaw. His voice was so quiet, a crack away from breaking entirely. "Why? Why can't you just admit that you're in love with me?"
"Because I'm terrified!"
You feel Lando's hand fall from your jaw while his brows furrowed, asking you what you were talking about. Your cheeks were flushed with heat while your fingers dug rested on your hips, digging into your flesh. You took in a shaky breath.
"I can't do this life, Lan. I can't be away from you all the time and travel with you all the time. I'm not another girl on your arm for the media. And I really can't watch you race. Every time I watch you race... I, " you blew air into your cheeks, "I watch with a sick stomach. Every spin, every crash... I always just think.. God, if something happened to you. If I love you..."
Lando fell silent. For the first time in a long time, he had nothing to say to you. All he had were the fresh tears quietly leaking out of his eyes. He blinked rapidly, using his arm to wipe off the rest of his silent sobbing. Stepping forward, with the soft pad of his thumb, he collected the tears you hadn't realised were falling.
Lando cleared his throat, breathing in while he rested his hand on your cheek, rubbing soft circles into your skin. "Ever since I met you, before I even realised I was in love with you, I've spent every race thinking about you. You're my first thought when those lights go off and the last when that flag waves. You don't know it but you are the only thing that makes me feel truly safe. And I would fight the world if it meant that you could openly love me back."
A singular tear made it's way down your face, seeping into the pores of your skin as Lando pressed a long kiss on your cheek before quietly leaving towards the door. Before entirely leaving, he stopped in his tracks. "I'm not giving up on us. I told you before. I could never leave you."
━━━━━━━━━━━
It had been a month since you and Lando had talked... whatever that was out.
The promise he had made before leaving your house that day was one he was persistent in pursuing. You knew Lando. He was stubborn. Often, what he wanted, he got.
You tried to avoid him. But the good morning and good night messages you received every day despite his ever-changing time zones still reached you. You spent the first three days ignoring them but the guilt with each passing day got heavier.
In a way, it felt like you were restarting your friendship. Taking things slow. Except the odd times that reminded you it was anything but. In particular Lando's 'drunk on horniness' messages or the sudden love confessions that popped out of thin air.
Things were... steadyish.
It was the only reason you had accepted Carlos' extended invitation to join him and the other's at a nightclub. You couldn't lie. Of course, Lando was at the forefront of your brain when you accepted. A part of you was curious.
How was he holding up?
Whether he was still with his girlfriend...
Were his plans on not giving up on you limited to his consistent texts?
But alas, as life usually worked, things did not go the way you planned.
While most of the drivers steered clear of the alcohol aside from their podiums, a practice Lando often took somewhat seriously, he was seriously considering breaking at the sight of you. More specifically, the sight of you and João Felix, the famed five-star FIFA player, mingling.
Lando who wasn't starving for any spirits was ready to down a few shots. But instead, he was completely sober, not a lick of alcohol in him, watching João, the ex-boyfriend of his own girlfriend chat you up.
Lando couldn't exactly blame the athlete. He would've done the same thing: the fixated eyes as you talked, the ear-to-ear smile when you laughed, the seamless checking out when you turned to take a sip of your drink or talk to someone nearby because Lando was a hundred percent sure you were the most gorgeous person in the room.
But he could blame João's pettiness. Lando had his ex and now he was going after you. In way, he rated it. But Lando knew you too well.
You were not interested in the player at all. The tight smiles, the absentminded nods, the readiness to jump into a conversation with literally anyone else... you were practically inviting Lando for a talk.
You could feel yourself freeze at the sight of Lando and his girlfriend walk over to the both of you. The air, all of a sudden, felt thick, fogging up your brain. You weren't quite sure what to say. This odd intertwining history between the four of you was nauseating.
"João," Lando greeted with a fake cheer. Magui, his girlfriend, gave a tight smile that bordered on pissed off – you knew the look all too well.
The football player gave a loose grin, shaking Lando's hand. "Lando... Magui," he sucked in a sharp breath. "Oh! Have you guys met yet?" He asked, brown eyes moving to you as he introduced you to the couple.
The three of you blinked at the dry sarcasm underpinning João's voice. You let a small laugh fall past your lips. "We have, actually. I'm Lando's old friend and Magui and I met not so long ago."
Lando gave you a pointed look. "You are way too down to earth. She's a special old friend," he corrected, grinning at João.
You pursed your lips awkwardly as the two Portugueses raised their eyes brows. You raised your hand to rub the nape of your neck nervously. "Uh, well, no... just old friend will do. Always the funny one, huh, Lando?" You murmured with a forced laugh.
To be honest, as the silence began to build, you were surprised to even hear Magui's voice. "I'm sorry..." she started, arm darting out to grab João's hand, making you widen your eyes, "João, we need to talk."
You incredulously watched Magui drag away the Portuguese before turning to Lando. You pondered over her words. "She still–"
"Likes him? Yup!" Lando said, popping the 'p' as he shoved his hands in his pockets.
"It's weird how similar she and I are. Lonely... and both head over heels for our exes." Lando tilted his head, eyes examining you carefully while you took a deep breath. "Can't say the same for João though," he clicked his tongue.
The comment made you raise a brow. Lando softly laughed at your confused expression. "Sweetheart... it is my worst luck that you are the most gorgeous woman to exist. João had eyes for you. From the moment you were talking till the moment we stepped in."
You folded your arms, a small grin teetering on your face at the irritated expression on his face. "So you were watching me... obsessed much?" You humoured out of pure amusement.
Lando poked his cheek with his tongue, taking a step towards you, hands still shoved into this pockets of his pants. "Oh you have no idea."
You pressed your lips together.
There were an infinite amount of things that were unhealthy. Rewatching your comfort shows five times too many, the double digits on your screen-time, a high sugar intake (although your tastebuds said otherwise)...
But for you, it usually ended up being Lando. The various facets of Lando often left you undone. And a clean-shaven Lando, stalking towards you in the loosest long sleeve polo shirt, folded at the arms and half unbuttoned so the necklace you brought him and bracelets he wore glittered under the club lights was just another one of many undoings.
"Lando..." you murmured, taking a step back, eyes darting to your surroundings. "What are you doing?"
"I haven't told you how good you look today, have I? Because you have no idea how fucking hot you look," Lando responded, ignoring your question as he took another step forward.
You swallowed your saliva at the recognisable look swirling in those blue orbs of his. Like he was going to ravage you.
"Lando," you hissed, putting a hand to his chest to maintain some distance. You breathed shakily, trying to think straight. "Have some self-control!"
"Oh sweetheart, you know as much as I do." You widened your eyes as Lando used your hand to pull you closer, merely inches away from his face. His voice, despite it's softness, is drowned in a husk that runs down your spine. His warm breath pricked the surface your skin. "When it comes to you, I have no control."
Never in your life had your throat felt so dry. You burned at his words and his touch made your stomach churn. "But..." you furrowed your brows, trying to remember what you wanted to say. "But Magui? João?" You managed to get out.
As the strobes of light glimmered across Lando, you managed to capture him closing his eyes after being trained on your lips for so long, as though he was trying to hold himself back, swimming up to the surface for some sort of consciousness.
His forehead fell to yours as he pondered those three words. "I told you..." Lando said, hands travelling up your neck to hold your face, relishing the heat your flushed state brought. "I exist for you."
In essence: fuck Magui and fuck João.
━━━━━━━━━━━
"You're kidding me," Lando flatly said, evilly eyeing the 'Out of Order' sign on your elevator.
"I'm also totally kidding that my room's on the fifth floor," You laughed softly, sarcasm underlying your voice.
Lando turned to you with a blank stare. You two had both managed to get out of the nightclub as discreetly as you could (which included the most obvious winks from Carlos and Fewtrell). While both of your patience was wearing thin, in the nature of an F1 driver, Lando was losing it ten times faster.
Lando had been waiting what felt like forever to be with you, for you to green-light him. That time he spent without you felt torturous as though he was being punished for being in love. And now that he had you, he was going to make up for lost time.
The only hitch in his plan was an elevator under maintenance and five flights of stairs.
Lando raised a brow at the anything but innocent smile tugging on your lips. He sucked in a sharp breath. "I do not like that look on your face."
You suppressed an eye roll, knowing damn well those twinkling eyes were saying something else. Slowly, you walked towards the fire exit with Lando following after you cautiously. Popping your head into the room, you looked up and the numerous staircases trailing up the building.
A quiet laugh slipped past Lando's mouth. "What are you doing?" He asked as you took your heels off and placed them on the floor.
You turned to him, resting your hand the railing of the staircase while the other found your hip. "My dear Lando," you tsked, "you didn't think it would be that easy, did you?"
You smiled at the furrowed brows he sported. "They say you should work hard to get what you want. Who knows..." you shrugged, "Maybe you'll find my panties on the third floor."
As the cogs finally clicked in place, Lando sunk his teeth into his lips. "Fuck," he muttered under his breath, raking his eyes over you. "And if someone catches us?"
You jutted your bottom lip, pretending to ponder his question. "Guess you'll have to be fast then. Aren't you an athlete or something?" You teased, grinning ear-to-ear now.
"You are going to be the death of me." Lando gave you a pointed look, throwing his heading back soon after receiving a cheeky wink from your side.
The British driver watched carefully as you started to make your way up the flight of stairs. Smiling to himself while shaking his head, he grabbed your heels with his two fingers and climbed up after you.
Lando was amused and excited at the same time, seeing you occasionally turn to him with a knowing glint in your eyes. He knew himself that things were currently tame: finding your heels, purse, and jacket in his hands.
He felt dazed upon catching a glimpse of the lace underneath your dress, tight around your ample flesh, his own pants beginning to constrict.
"Not just yet, Lan." Your voice piped up in the silence. Lando fluttered his eyes open, seeing you turn back to him again. He questionably hummed in response, gathering himself once again.
"What are you going to do now?" You queried with feigned innocence, eyes flickering to your bra dangling in your hand. "Whoops!"
Lando sucked in a sharp breath, watching your bra fall to the floor before shamelessly moving his eyes to your chest, eyes bulging at the now uncontrolled cleavage spilling from your dress. His fingers clenched around all of your items while he swallowed the saliva building up in his mouth.
The sudden urge to increase his pace up the stairs made you widen your eyes with a fire-like anticipation, matching his action. As Lando grabbed your bra from the floor, he could only imagine what was coming as you arrived to the third floor.
But surprisingly enough, Lando had caught up to you, intentional on your part he was sure. He eyed your body as you sat on a stair, leg crossed over another, letting your dress ride up your thighs.
"Looking for something?" You queried, catching his attention.
"Nothing." Lando winced at the poor and croaky lie escaping his lips.
You grinned, gliding your tongue over your lip. You stood up, hand clenching around the soft and wet fabric in your hands. You could hear Lando's breath hitch as you used your free hand to trail up his leg, only millimetres away from the bulge in his pants.
Lando's eyes focused on you as you met his gaze. He felt your lips graze his own, naturally making him lean in for more but your finger pressing down stopped him, instead pulling his free hand open.
Lando closed his eyes upon the feel of the soft textured fabric in his rough palm. "Please tell me that's what I think it is."
He knew what it was. But he wanted to hear it from your lips.
You moved your lips to his ear. "What do you want to hear? That your holding my panties? Or that they're soaked?"
Lando's eyes snapped open, dropping your items to his side. His hand travelled up your neck, holding your face to jerk it towards him. You could feel his hot breath swarm your vicinity. His thumb trailed over your lips, head leaning in.
You gave him a small smile, pulling away. "We still have two whole floors, Lando. Patience is a virtue."
Lando blinked blankly at the light tap of your fingers on his cheek. He watched you leave once again. Knowing that you had no underwear unknowingly awoke something deeply sinister within him.
You were a siren. Luring him in by doing so little and yet, the most. He was sure of it.
Lando took in a deep breath, closing his eyes once again. He was also sure that the next thing about to come off was the last thing you had on: your dress. And he wasn't confident he could handle it at all. His cock felt impossibly tight against his pants, aching in such a way that begged for release.
"You're missing the show, baby."
Lando looked at you, gathering your items and slowly walking up the stairs, watching you carefully take the straps off your shoulders, emphasising 'L' on your necklace. His tongue rested at the corner of his mouth, preventing them from tugging upwards when you realised you had to deal with the zipper of your dress.
"Need some help?" Lando asked, catching up to you once again.
You pouted at his amused expression. "Lan... I had a thing going," You whined. You had used a damn string and paperclip to pull the zip up earlier this evening. And now? Now you had a lover who drove a papaya-coloured car for a living with a shit-eating grin.
"How about," Lando started, moving your panties to his other hand to wrap an arm around your waist, bringing you closer to him, "I help you get out of this dress and you stop being a little minx so I can fuck the tease out of you, hmm?"
Your teeth sunk into your bottom lip, feeling Lando's bulge push up against your ass. Your skin pricked with a wave of heat that you hadn't felt in a long time. You hear Lando hum in your ear, waiting for a response as he nestled his chin into your collarbone, fingers grazing up and down your body.
"Fine, fine," you relented, turning to grab Lando by the hand before you hurried up the last flight of stairs.
"I thought you said patience was a virtue!" Lando huffed, smiling at your pace.
You rolled your eyes. "You're one to speak."
Lando chuckled softly, trailing after you with the same eagerness sparking within him.
━━━━━━━━━━━
You peeked your head into your empty hallway, hand still around Lando's. There were four flats on your floor. Two of which were empty thanks to the cost of living crisis and the other, your neighbour, who was often out of town.
In other words, you were free to be as loud as you want.
With as much humbleness and reserve you could manage, you tamely walked down your hallway, hearing Lando mumble something about how your hallway belonged in a horror movie.
"Gee... that's so sexy, Lan. Keep going," you dryly encouraged, turning to grab the keys in your purse.
Lando jutted out his hand, letting your keys dangle from his fingers in front of your face. "I'm just saying," he said defensively with the corner of his mouth tugging upwards in amusement.
You shook your head, failing to suppress your grin as you shoved the key into the door, waiting to hear the obscene click. Opening the door, you smiled timidly at the state of your flat. "Well... this is my humble-ish abode... that you've seen a bit too much recently," you teased.
Lando laughed softly, following after you, hands still full. "What are you on about? I love your flat. It's so... you."
You turned to Lando with a raised brow, watching him put down all the trinkets you had left him on the shelf near the door. "Is that a diss I hear?"
The driver rolled his eyes, walking towards you with a knowing glint to his eyes. His arms stretched out, travelling to your waist before pulling you in. You could feel his breath graze past your skin as he held your gaze. Lando's voice was a mere whisper in your ears. "I mean I love you... so I love your cute little flat."
"Oh," you lamely said before blinking back to reality. "I mean not 'oh' like 'oh,' I mean like 'oh... I love you too?" You questioned, slowly dying on the inside at your stupidity.
Lando grinned at your pained expression. "Nice save," he murmured against your lips. "Now... where were we?"
"Hmm?" You idly queried, unable to take your eyes off of his lips. "Uh," you cleared your throat, "something about fucking the tease out of me?"
"Ah, yes," Lando agreed, teeth sinking into his bottom lip. "You have been pretty awful today. First walking in with João..." He clicked his tongue, finger trailing the underside of the strap of your dress before pulling it down your shoulder. "Then this dress, fuck."
You let out a shaky breath, feeling his fingers skim past your neck as he walked around you to meet the zip you had been battling all day. Lando's mouth met the side of your ear while he pressed the cold metal of your zip down and against your back.
"And now your little theatrics. It's not very nice of you, sweetheart. I've waited so long... you're on my mind every second of every day. I think about you so much, I don't think it's healthy. But..."
Lando stopped himself, lips brushing against your burning skin.
"But?" You repeated, turning your body to face him.
"But... I don't care," He finished with a small nonchalant shrug and a balance of softness and cockiness drowning his voice.
You didn't waste a second, moving your hands to Lando's neck, pushing yourself forward as you pressed your lips to his.
You could feel his hands immediately wrap around your waist. Your skin pricked with a familiar burn, warming at the touch of Lando's fingers skimming your bare skin.
Even though a fire was whirling within you, your body still had managed to create waves and waves of goosebumps as the hairs on your skin stood straight. You could feel Lando's tongue dart out, nudging your mouth to open a bit more to explore every crevice.
A mix of a grunt and high-pitched moan slipped past Lando's lips making your thighs clench at the tingling rippling through your core. You were positively going to combust.
Lando was equally sure he was going to lose it. He had waited so long to feel your lips and the sheer happiness he felt right now... it couldn't even compare to his imagination. To feel his teeth graze your lips while his one hand roamed your bare back, ever slowly inching towards your ass... the other tangled in your soft hair... he was almost afraid to admit he daydreamed of this.
His pants, fuck, they were tight before but this was something else entirely. He was in a some sort of twisted pain as your hands moved from his neck and crept up the hem of his shirt, brushing his taut torso, remembering exactly where all his little moles were.
"Shit..." Lando sighed out, holding you tighter against him. His lips moved along your bare shoulder, meeting the nape of your neck to attack it with purple written love letters. "Get on the bed, baby," he managed to get out, half-focusing on the honey-drenched moans falling from your lips while he waddled you towards the bed.
You sat back on the mattress breathlessly, chest heaving up and down as you watched Lando eye you down with a lust-driven softness. A gentle smile sprawled across your face, making him gulp cautiously. Coyly, you stood up, barely a few centimetres away from him as you peeled off your dress as slowly as you good.
You could hear Lando's breath hitch before he sucked in a sharp intake of air, eyes fixed on your breasts. They looked lonely... as if they were waiting for his touch. His tongue rested on the side of his mouth, tilting his head while your dress skimmed past your thighs and off your legs.
Lando's head fell back. "Fuck... you are going to be death of me." He shook his head, inching back towards you.
The small laugh that had fallen from your lips made him smile. He watched as your fingers pinched the edge of his shirt, lifting it up at the same rate of his arms flying up. Removing his shirt, your hands danced towards his shorts but Lando's hand caught your wrist.
You flickered your eyes to Lando, eyebrows raised at the pained look on his face. "If I let you do it, I swear to God, I might cum right here."
Your eyes slightly widened at his words, mouth all of a sudden feeling dry. You raised your hands in defence, watching him try to take off his pants in amusement.
"Don't think I don't see that smug smile on your face, sweetheart," He murmured, blue eyes averting to you. A smug smile of his own formed on his face as his arms caged you in, your knees bucking at the feel of the mattress or Lando – you couldn't tell.
Lando's head dipped into the valley of your breasts, hot breath letting goosebumps litter your bare skin. "I missed these sweet tits of yours," he murmured, watching his own hand skim past your pebbled nipple, ears perking at the quiet gasp coming from your mouth.
You could feel the ghost of Lando's smile against your skin before his hand stretched to fondle the soft mound of tissue while his tongue wrapped around the other, circling the hard nipple with his warm saliva.
You let out a small sigh, hand immediately travelling to the mop of brown curls Lando sported as you revelled in his touch. You could tell what he was doing. Making up for lost time. Ensuring you knew how much he missed you by spending the uttermost time and care with your breasts alone.
His thumb and tongue moved in synchronised circles, paying attention to each nipple, savouring the way your body arched into his touch and the small sighs and whimpers of admission dancing into his ears.
Detaching his tongue from your nipple, Lando looked at the sight of the ample flesh of your tits filling his hands. Fuck... it drove him insane.
Your body quivered as Lando's lips trailed down the valley of your breasts, a line of purples following right after his wet kisses. "Lando," you hissed, "People are going to know."
A huff of amusement crawled from his throat. "I know."
Lando watched you roll your eyes while he came down to pussy. His hands glided across your thighs, gripping your plump skin as a wave of tingles bubbled within your core.
Planting a small kiss on the side of your thigh, he flickered his blue eyes to you. "Think I still need to get that brat out of you," he murmured before gently pulling at your labia.
He watched your folds clench around nothing as his hot breath grazed the surface of your pussy. Lando smiled knowingly. "You are simply drenched for me, sweetheart."
You sucked in a sharp breath, feeling his finger slide down your slick folds, going up to ever so slightly to gather your arousal and graze the sensitive bundle of nerves near the top. A gasp left your mouth, making him grin.
You feel his fingers move away from your heat, skimming your thighs while hearing the hitched breaths fall from Lando's mouth as if he was the one affected. You could see his eyes travel across your body, wondering where to start. He wanted everywhere.
His mop of curls on his head dipped down, warm lips pressed up against the valley of your breasts to your stomach. And as he reached your navel, he could hear your shallow breaths, the ghost of his smile tickling your skin.
Heat prickled every inch of your body and yet a shiver of what could only be explained as some sort of electric current ran through you. You felt a tap on your thigh, bringing you back to reality.
"Don't lose me now, baby," Lando murmured softly, hands gripping your hips to yank your body closer to him.
Before you could breathe, before you could imagine the mere consequences of the way Lando's breath felt against your core, his mouth dived down into your folds.
Your mouth fell open as your head found comfort in the mattress. His tongue grazed over your clit with a tantalisingly slow pace, letting your legs tremor in his grasp. You could feel his lips curve, smirk practically dripping off his face.
You opened your mouth, preparing a witty comeback only for a string of moans to come out as Lando traversed deeper into your burning core, taking on every crevice and fold.
A groan escaped Lando's lips, pulling away for a brief second. "I missed how good you taste, so fucking sweet," he sighed out, delirious.
Your toes curled at his words, hands reaching for his head as he returned back to your pussy, Lando's own hands moving to your inner thighs to expose you entirely to him. His tongue had found your clit once again, unleashing his torturous attack.
"Oh God," you cried out, hips bucking themselves further into his tongue as the signs of your upcoming climax approached. You didn't think you could last any longer, especially not when Lando slipped two fingers inside you, making you clench around around him.
"Fucking hell," Lando rasped against your clit, speeding up his pace. His fingers move in and out of you rapidly, tongue flat against your clit as you trembled in his hands.
The dazed look in your eyes, the sunken teeth, the clenching of your walls...
Lando eagerly pulled you closer if possible, hoisting a leg over his shoulder, sending an entirely different realm of pleasure across your body.
"Lando!" You sobbed, hands tightening their grip on his hair.
He moaned, maintaining his pace. "Come, baby. All for me, come on. Show me how good I make you feel."
You felt undone at his words, body convulsing as the big waves of your orgasm hit you hard. Your walls clenched and pulsed around his fingers.
Lando couldn't tell whether his heart was fluttering or whether his cock was throbbing, probably both, but he had once committed this ruined sight of you to his memory not too long ago, and God, he had been dying to see it again.
The strain in Lando's voice was impossible to miss. So was his aching cock standing straight against his stomach. "I need you... so bad," he murmured, pussy-drenched lips against your ear.
You couldn't help but shudder at his words. Only minutes had passed since your orgasm but fuck, you needed him as much as he needed you.
With a series of nods, you beckoned him over, bringing your lips to his for a brief minute. Your hands trailed over his chest, grazing the back of his neck before finding their place on his upper back.
A low sigh blew from Lando's lips, his eyes trailed to where your hips met before coming back up to meet yours. For a moment, he allowed himself to revel in your touch before holding your gaze firmly. He called your name. "I love you. So fucking much. You're all I want... forever."
His confession made you warm all over. You could feel your eyes water slightly. With a tight smile, you brought your hand to caress his cheek, feeling him lean into your touch. "I love you too."
Those words were music to his ears. Without a second to waste, his hips moved, cock thrusting into you so deeply that you can't help but let out a small cry of pleasure, hand covering your mouth.
Lando wanted to fold. Right there and then. You felt so good around him. As though heaven had found him. But all he could do is moan your name, feeling you tightly clench around his cock.
His eyes flitted to your face when he heard your muffled moans. His arms stretched out to keep your hands away from your mouth and on his back. "Let me hear you, baby. Yell my name. Tell me how good you feel."
Your body jolted as his thrusts became deeper and somehow, you felt like you were only becoming more aroused. Your skin felt sticky, riddled with sweat as your slickness coated your thighs.
Lando groaned at the sight. You were making a mess of him, dripping all over his cock as your eyes became lost in a haze. His hand reached out, jutting your chin to make sure you were looking at him. "Keep looking at me. Look at what you do to me."
Lando's grip on your waist tightened, pulling you over so you straddled his cock, riding him into a new oblivion.
And you did look. You watched him fuck into you with a speed and depth you had missed so dearly. You watched him memorise you as though he was afraid to forget you. You watched him make love to you.
Your second orgasm began to build up as the obscene sounds of your skin slapping against one another filled the room. Your body shook at the feel of Lando's thumb against your clit, rubbing you as he entirely ruined you.
"Lando, I–" you mewled, unable to get the words out.
"I know," Lando responded, holding the same level of restrain and pleasure as his own climax built up. "Cum," he almost cried out, "please."
You could barely keep your eyes open as the tight coil in your stomach snapped. You trembled in his grasp, cumming all over his cock, hips almost unstoppable as they chased those waves.
The tight clench your orgasm brought around his cock sent him over. Lando fingers sunk into your skin. "Fuck, where, tell me where," he begged, impossibly close.
You quivered, still in the remaining moments of your orgasm. "Inside," you panted, "please, Lan." There's nothing more that I want than your cum."
Lando rasped, hips stilling at your words as his cum spilled into you, filling you in all the the right places. His grip on you loosened as he slowly pulled out of you.
You shivered at his fixated gaze of your mixed cum seeping out of your pussy. Lando fell into the bed, closing his eyes, muttering things under his breath to restrain himself. You held in your laughter as he left the bed, almost painfully, to grab a wet towel from the bathroom to clean you up.
You kissed his cheek gently, thanking him as he finished cleaning all the witness dripping your thighs. Putting aside the towel, you pulled the duvet over you and Lando, nestling up to his warm body.
You could feel the softness of your mattress and duvet conform around your body while Lando rested beside you, taking you in. You mended your brows at the sudden silence. "Penny for your thoughts?" You queried, poking his cheek before rubbing his face with the pad of your thumb.
Lando leaned into your touch, warm blue eyes grazing over your face. "I missed you," he murmured, pressing a kiss onto the side of your hand. "Every day without you felt miserable and now... I can't believe you're actually in front of me. "
Your eyes softened. "I'm here," you reassured, "forever."
© 𝐌𝐈𝐂𝐊𝐘𝐒𝐂𝐇𝐔𝐌𝐀𝐂𝐇𝐄𝐑
#mickyschumacher#f1 x reader#f1 fanfic#f1 imagine#f1 smut#f1 x you#lando norris#lando norris fanfic#lando norris smut#lando norris x reader#lando x reader#lando norris oneshot
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FROM ME TO YOU — yjw. ✦ TEASER
𝒾n which . . . the way everyone was absolutely terrified of you confused you; you never did anything to actually scare them. fine, maybe you had a quiet persona and rumours saying you had magical psychic powers or something, but you weren’t really that bad, were you? and then in came bounding yang jungwon into your lonely little life — the your grade’s student council president and most popular boy. why was he even talking to you? it must have been pity, he was looking to get “possessed” or both. but contrary to both yours and popular opinion, jungwon meant not a single one of those things…
OR
𝒾n which . . . jungwon can’t help but wonder why you’re so scary to the rest of the school, and he just had to do something to get you to come out of your shell and show your true self. because everyone has a voice inside that not many other people but themselves hear, and he especially wanted to hear yours.
─── ♡ 𝓅airing . . . classmate! jungwon x shy, misunderstood! 𝑓. reader >< 𝓌arnings . . . won is so so sweet (yes it deserves warning) + angst / self deprecation + . 𝓌c 0.205k ୨୧ 𝒷ased on . . . the anime from me to you/kimi ni todoke ⋆.˚ 𝑓t. yano ayane , yoshida chizuru , miura kento , kurumizawa ume , kazehaya shouta + other characters with minor roles
★
初恋 ─── in my fmty phase (it’s so cute ACK >.<) likes + reblogs are very appreciated !!
taglist ( open & send an ask/dm/comment to be added ) ─── @dreamiestay @seyoungiesleeps @adoredbyjay @mrsjohnnysuh @ilyjxdz @acciocriativity @nvrlndmylove @slvrnm @heeheeyeoiizz01 @tya0 @blindmortal @gardenwons @en-dream @nerdywitchcrown @stercul1a @lilikisuki @bamguetismee @nishislcve @twinklejones @i03jae @ikeuwoniee @academiq @wonlush @wonuziex @tasnemluvs
perm. taglist ( open & send an ask/dm/comment to be added ) ─── @flufflights @liya07v @strvvy-anniee
your reputation at school wasn’t exactly… amazing. for some reason, all the students in your year made rumours that you had some sort of magical powers, you could read minds, et cetera. all because you didn’t talk to people too much.
you see, you were always a slightly awkward person. you never knew what to say or what to do when someone needed your help or comfort. so, you decided to just not talk much at all, in an attempt to get people to stop coming to you.
but now, as time went, you realised the weight of your decision. you had lost a critical part of your life, made a decision that honestly made you a bit sad to think about now.
and now — with your unapproachable and slightly scary demeanour — you had become a target of something terrible: high school gossip.
apparently, according to them, you were psychic, and had special, dark powers. their reasoning being a girl in your class named yuka got sick after sparing you a glance during the start of the first term.
and how was yuka getting sick after sparing you a glance even plausible? only the heavens knew, and they absolutely refused to tell you…
just to clarify, this is a one shot fic !!
#( 𝑚a ) 𝐂𝐇𝐄𝐑𝐢𝐄 . a work of 𝑎𝑟𝑡#enhypen#jungwon#yang jungwon#enhypen jungwon#enha#jungwon yang#enhypen yang jungwon#jungwon enhypen#jungwon imagines#jungwon fluff#jungwon x reader#enhypen x fem reader#jungwon enha#engene#enhypen x reader#enhypen scenarios#enhypen au#enhypen imagines#enhypen fluff
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Bloody Red Roses
Yandere!Evil King x GN!Reader
CW: kidnapping, weirdo behavior, pretty mellow for now
👑 It was known throughout the land that King Alistair of the Obsidian Kingdom was a terrifying and cruel ruler. His heart held no mercy for those who opposed him.
👑 His dark magic was one to be feared, many know better than to ever go against him and his undead soldiers.
👑 Recently, he’s set his sights on your kingdom. He was planning on overthrowing a few lands and expanding his territory, and with your kingdom’s promising resources and location, he saw it as the perfect prize.
👑 But he isn’t a war mongering psychopath who declares war right then and there, no no he’s much more sophisticated than that, he’s going to kidnap the princess instead!
👑 He needed a bride anyway, so for him it’s a win/win!
👑 “Sir! We got her! We got the princess!” The door opening and the rattling of bones got Alistair’s attention. He sent a few of his skeleton soldiers to capture the princess whilst on a carriage ride through the borders of his territory.
👑 There were many guards protecting the area, but their weapons were no match for enemies who couldn’t die, and with a little bit of sleeping potion, carrying the princess away will be easy as pie.
👑 “Excellent~ and you brought her to my chambers like I told you correct?”
👑 They nod and scamper alongside the king to meet the princess
👑 “Oh princess~ are you awake ye- !!” His eyes widen and he cuts himself off. The person unconscious and tied up in his bed was indeed a royal, but the princess they were not.
👑 “What. Is. This?” He growls, the soldier’s bones rattle in fear
👑 “W-well you sai-“ “Does this look like a princess to you?! How am I going to take over their stupid kingdom if don’t have a bride!?” He scowls angrily.
👑 He hears you tossing and turning in your sleep, you let out a soft little squeak as you reposition yourself to be hugging one of his pillows.
👑 “…”
👑 “Uhm…your highness..?”
👑 “Leave. I’m done with your stupidity..I’ll deal with them myself..”
👑 The soldiers waste no time running off to who knows where as Alistair looks at you with cold eyes.
👑 “Hm…”
👑 He takes a seat by the bed, watching you as he figures out what to do with you.
👑 He’s trying to figure out a strategy, but he keeps getting distracted by your form. You looked so small and delicate, maybe he could…no that’s stupid he could never..could he?
👑 His thoughts plague him a awhile longer until he notices you waking up.
👑 Your muscles are weak, your head feels like it’s spinning, and it takes a bit for you to get back to your senses and realize what happened.
👑 You jolt awake, remember of the attack and almost scream at the sight of Alistair, but he was quick to covers your mouth and try to ease your panic. It took a while, but he managed to get you to stop fussing so he could take off your binds.
👑 “Apologies for this little..incident, I was supposed to take your sister..but now that you know my plan for your little kingdom, I have no choice but to keep you here. Perhaps I don’t need a princess to marry after all, I could just use you as ransom..” he chuckles.
👑 He sees the tea in your cup rippling in your shakes hold and scoffs, bringing his hand to hold your wrist to still your trembling “Oh don’t be so scared now, I don’t bite..”
👑 It was just supposed to be a means to make you stop shaking, but your skin…your big pitiful eyes staring up at him..he didn’t want to let go.
👑 So he kept you, for ransom of course, not for anything else..
👑 With you at his disposal, he started preparing negotiations with your kingdom to see what they’ll do to get you back.
👑 But in the mean time, he had to deal with you somehow..
👑 He settled on just letting you wander around the castle (with supervision of course)
👑 But then he starts to wonder what you do everyday, what did you even like to do? If you were staying with him, he might as well talk with you for the time being.
👑 It started off sort of awkward, he spotted you by the garden feeding some birds with two soldiers watching you. He approached and waved at the soldiers to leave them alone together. You thought you were in trouble but to your surprise, he just asked you how you were doing..
👑 “I uhm..heard you like going out here everyday..I figured I’d join you…Don’t take it the wrong way, I just had some..free time..that’s all..”
👑 The whole interaction was unusual. It wasn’t like him to be so casual and calm with someone, especially a royal of another kingdom.
👑 He enjoys the reactions you give him whenever he talks about his role as the dark king of the Obsidian Kingdom. Your nervous but polite smile masks your mortification of him, but it’s adorable to him nonetheless
👑 “What? A scared of the big bad king? How cute.”
👑 Your little talks slowly became frequent, for the king, it even became something he couldn’t help but do. What can he say? He was so used to your presence it seemed wrong to not talk to you at least once..plus he had to check to see if you weren’t planning an escape so..
👑 “Where have you been my little rose? I haven’t seen you all day.”
👑 His interest in your interactions turned to fondness the more he picked up on your cute little quirks. He takes note of the things you find funny or interesting, he brings them up in order to see that adorable little smile of yours, and that giggle, oh god that giggle…
👑 He denies it so much at first, but slowly starts to accept the fact that he wants- no, needs you with him
👑 Soon he started to want your presence even more, offering to eat meals alongside you instead of eating whenever he’s schedule allowed it, he started eating scheduled meals for you <3 we love self care guys
👑 “Of course I’m eating with you tonight. After all we never got to finish our conversation.”
👑 He loves watching you, even when simply eating or any mundane thing, you will more often than not catch him staring at you. You’re just so cute and soft! Definitely not like the snobby and overly stiff men and women he’s seen.
👑 He couldn’t have you trying to escape so what better plan than to keep you by his side 24/7? Then you’ll never be out of his sight!
👑 “What’s so wrong with letting you tag along my dear? I’m sure you’ll enjoy yourself with me.”
👑 And what if you try and sneak out from your chambers? Clearly you need to be moved to his chambers, that way he can make sure you’re behaving.
👑 Oh and of course in case you get lost, he made you a cute collar with the royal insignia on it! Isn’t it pretty? He used your favorite colors and everything!
👑 Of course he needs to fulfill his kingly duties. But how can he leave you alone for that long? No worries, you can sit right on his lap! That way you won’t have to stand for a long time and hurt your feet.
👑 And those clothes? So simple and out of style, perhaps you should wear something more fitting to his kingdom’s styles? Like a cute outfit with lace and ruffles! You look so delicate and graceful in it! He can’t help but buy you lots more outfits like that! Tis only fair for a person of your status.
👑 “How about this one? It compliments your form…what do you mean it looks too cutesy? I think it looks perfect for you.”
👑 he’s the type to not do much physical affection, but dear god does he crave both giving and receiving it. Give him a kiss or a caress of his cheek and he struggles to keep his composure and not melt to your touch
👑 Simply put, he might not seem like it (at least he thinks he does) but he can’t live without you. He couldn’t fathom the fact he was planning on trading you for a kingdom, you’re way more valuable than some puny kingdom!
👑 He even considers his original plan, you wouldn’t mind right? Besides, he bets you look absolutely exquisite in a little wedding dress~! Even if you don’t want a dress, an elegant suit would perfect on you~!
👑 “Where do you think you’re going my rose?”
It’s finally here guys ✨✨✨ I know it’s been a while but I’ve been busy with school and genshin. Anyway we got em in the end! Thank you for being so patient guys !! qwq
#yandere#yandere x gn reader#male yandere#yandere oc#oc yandere#yandere male#yandere x reader#yandere x male reader#tw yandere#x reader#x gn reader#gn reader#yandere x you#yandere x darling#king x reader#yandere king#evil king#opossumdoodles
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3rd of july ˚ ༘ ೀ⋆.˚ nanami kento
piece written in collaboration with my beloved friend and one of my favorite people, @rahuratna, for nanami's (a.k.a. internet's collective husbando) birthday. 💜🧡 content warning: fluff/comedy/sugestiveness word count: 1k
Nanami wasn't one to make big celebrations on his birthday. Up until he met you, he'd usually go about his work day quietly, saving up a few extra hours to simply go bowling or visit his favorite restaurants for dinner.
After you both started dating, not much had changed. You'd simply tag along for whatever he had planned, and would usually surprise him with something by the time you both got home - a box of dark chocolate, a new set of lingerie, a nice warm scented bath, a new CD album he had been looking for.
This time, however, you decided to push your luck on teasing the poor man.
On his birthday, of all days.
"Kento, how do you feel about surprise parties?" you ask, hiding the smile pulled on your cheeks behind your tea cup.
On the couch by your side, you could feel Nanami holding the urge to flinch the moment you were finished speaking.
"They are not my favorite," he answers in earnest.
"Seriously?" you inquire with a faux disheartened look.
"Yes," Nanami replies, with a tinge of concern to his voice.
"That is... unfortunate, then," you ensue, putting your tea on the coffee table and pulling your robe tighter around your body.
His Adam's apple bobs as he silently gulps.
"Why?"
"Well, my plan was to surprise you when you got home, but I figured you wouldn't want to get instantly jumped. So I told them to wait in the room," you finally say, with a grave finality, pointing to the closed bedroom door.
Truth is, he has no clue what you are really up to.
"Darling…" Nanami sighs, ever so patiently, "I thought it would just be the both of us unwinding, like the past years."
"I… I'm sorry, I really wanted to surprise you with something different this time."
You do sound regretful, and he plants a soft kiss on your cheek in response. Even now, he doesn't quite find it in himself to be annoyed at you, even if the prospect of Gojo lurking around his bedroom is enough to send disgusted shivers down his spine.
"It's… fine. Let's get this over with at once, and then have the house to ourselves."
"Are you sure? I could always go in there and tell them to-"
"No," he counters firmly. "You've arranged something a little different this year, and I'm going to appreciate it."
"Come on, then."
As perceptive as he is, Nanami doesn't notice the mischievous smile tugging at the corner of your mouth. Naturally, since you have successfully planted a seed in his mind, a terrifying image of his pristine suits being tried on by students and his custom made bowling ball being transformed into a disco light by the white-haired menace he calls a colleague.
When you reach the door and step aside for him, he visibly braces himself, fingers almost straightening a phantom tie at his throat.
"Sweetheart, I need to go and fetch a scarf. It's a little chilly in here."
Bless his heart. He's actually playing along.
You raise your voice.
"Oh, I left the blue one on the top shelf. Your closet."
"Right."
Nanami heads in with the air of a man charging from the trenches to face a volley of cannon fire. He stops dead in his tracks, eyes taking in the room.
It is empty of people, for starters.
The comforter on the bed has been pulled back, the white sheets scattered with rose petals. Candles have been placed strategically on the bedside table and vanity, emitting the subtle scent of the ocean. On a corner of the bed, a few ribbon-wrapped gifts await; a small stack of books and a box of his favourite dark chocolate with orange.
You saunter in behind him and he turns to you with a look that is both a solemn reprimand and a loving promise of a punishment you may appreciate later.
"Hmm. It's awfully crowded in here, my dear."
"Well, the rose petals were quite chatty, Kento. They've taken up all the space on our bed."
"They have indeed, you little-"
You laugh as you slip out of his reach, standing coyly in the doorway.
"Have a look at your gifts first."
He narrows his eyes, but approaches the bed, fingers unraveling the ribbon that holds the books together.
"What do we have here? 'The Master and Margarita.' Ah, wonderful. 'Bowling your way home: A salaryman's escape from bondage.'"
He pauses and raises an eyebrow and you gesture airily for him to keep going.
"Fine. What's this one? The-"
His voice cuts off abruptly.
"Kento? Are you all right?"
Very slowly, he turns to you.
"You got me the Kama Sutra?"
"I figured it would make a nice addition to your collection. I may even borrow it, from time to time."
You approach him now, casually opening the book to where you've placed a strategic leather marker within the section on sex positions.
"Since it's your birthday, maybe you'd like to start with the Virsha here?"
He considers the page seriously, before taking the book from you and flipping through it.
"I'm not sure, darling. You've put in enough effort setting all of this up."
Handing it back to you, he watches the flush that spreads upwards, across your neck as you are presented with the Indrani pose he has chosen instead.
"How about you let me do the work from here on out?"
"Well... "
"No, I insist."
His voice has that special intonation now, the husky rumble of desire, the inflection of hushed intimacy, the promise of that playful nature that only reveals itself when you're entangled in the sheets together.
You lay the book down, open to the very instructive illustration.
"In that case, let me present you with my last gift."
"There's another?"
Wordlessly, the robe you've been so studiously arranging around yourself slides to the floor. His kindling gaze takes in the sheer, violet lace, the tiny flowers embroidered strategically over the parts of you that he will discover at leisure.
***
Later, when the gossamer material lies discarded on the floor, when his exhausted limbs entwine with your own, when his golden hair runs like silk between your fingers, you speak into the hush of the bedroom.
"Happy birthday, my love."
His voice is muffled from where his face is pressed against your stomach.
"That was quite the surprise party."
"Maybe we should have one every year."
He snorts indignantly, but his lips curve in a smile against your skin all the same.
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