Tumgik
#covered in despair and body hair
kingcael · 9 months
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Simon my guy
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wyvernest · 8 months
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hands on you
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pairing: miguel o'hara xf!reader
warnings: perv!miguel, miguel being extra handsy, smut, groping (consensual), established relationship, teasing, pda, public teasing, alcoholic beverages?
summary: miguel can't take his hands off of you in the club
Miguel knew you liked him being overly affectionate in public, just to show everyone how deeply in love with him you are. So deeply, that you couldn't gather one single fuck to give about what others thought.
Sure, there were lines neither of you would ever cross. But there was something so delicious about taking risks that had you more intoxicated than 5 mojitos.
This is why you now find yourself rummaging through your closet, looking for something downright obscene. Something so inviting that would make it hard for Miguel to keep his hands to himself for the whole night.
The two of you had arranged to go clubbing for the first time in what felt like a century. Since both of you preferred 1 on 1 alone time, it was a rarity that one would voice the desire to break out of the usual, intimate, comforting routine.
But this time, you want something filthy. Not soft or private. Something that would bring him to the very brink of despair for being so close, yet so far from it.
"¿Estas lista?" (Are you ready?) You hear the bathroom door open as Miguel steps out into the doorway, a towel around his hips and another in his hands as he aggressively attempts to partially dry his dripping wet hair.
You almost start drooling looking at him in the closet door mirror. This is gonna be fun.
"I'm still thinking." You replied, absentmindedly. Oh how you wish you could just ditch the plans, forget about going out and spend the rest of the evening on his dick. To just give him a familiar shove and watch him lay down on the soft bed, hands roaming your body as you climbed on top of him-
No. You have to stick with the plan. Just for once.
As he blow-dries his hair, you snatch the top and skirt you picked and run downstairs, not wanting him to see you before you get to your destination.
But how you wish you could stay in the bedroom and watch his back muscles flex as he pulls that black shirt over his head, how he looks in the mirror as he fixes his hair. His mere presence made you wet.
You snap out of your reverie, swiftly changing and covering yourself with a nice beige coat. Just as you were done with the last touches in the hallway mirror, Miguel stepped down the stairs.
The black shirt slightly stretches over his muscles, giving you a clear view of his pecs and the outlines of his hard abs. He's sporting beige pants, and you wonder just for a second how obvious a boner would be underneath the thin, creamy material.
The drive to the club is flooded with knowing looks and flirty comments, which again make it hard for you not to abandon ship and fuck him in the driver's seat, pulled over on a nice, dark alley.
"I know what you're doing."
"What?" You inquire, faking innocent shock.
He gestures towards your coat, his eyes darting from yours to the clothing item and back to the road.
"I just want to surprise you." You defend yourself, placing a gentle hand on his shoulder, brushing a few hair strands behind his ear. You lean into him, placing a tender kiss on his cheek.
You arrive at the club, discarding the coat to leave it in the car. He almost forgets to lock the doors the moment he sees you. Plushy breasts pushed together and nearly spilling out of a skin tight top, ass peeking out from underneath a skirt too short.
"Carajo." (Fuck.) He rasps, before sprinting over to you, wanting to shield you from wandering eyes. Any doubts that it might've been too much are washed away the second you're hit with the realisation that Miguel's hands are going to be on you for the whole night. Either protectively or for other reasons, you couldn't bring yourself to care that much.
As you walk in, you remain glued to him. body to body. Even as you dance, you move against him, soft tits squished on his chest, hands wandering over his shoulders and his neck.
His own hands are anchored on your waist, his fingers digging into your delicate skin.
Glazed over eyes, pretty mouth agape, lips painted in gloss; they're too much for him. He leans into your touch, kissing you messily. It's all tongue and hot puffs of heaved breaths, desperate and painfully needy.
Seizing the opportunity, you inhaled softly and slowly, feeling the scent of him, cologne mixed with his distinctive musk that has your brain melting into nothing but the thought of irrevocably being his.
Suddenly, a straying hand travels down your body, from the dip of your waist and over your hip, settling on the tender flesh of your ass, his fingertips skin to skin on you, thanks to the shortness of the flimsy skirt.
He pulls you against him, trapping you with the other hand splayed out on your back. You feel your heart rate pick up speed.
His one-day stubble scratches your silky cheeks, almost an invasion. Almost disrespectful to the extensive skin care routine you have and religiously stick to, but that's what you like most about it. No matter how much time you spend on yourself, he always ruins you. Your makeup, your clothes, covering your freshly-carefully-lotioned body in hickies and marks. Simply because you're his.
The palm on your ass squeezes and kneads over the feverish skin, the skirt hiking up in the process as he exposes your thin, lace thongs.
You moan in faux protest, looking up at him and breaking away from the suffocating kiss.
"¿Que pasó, muñeca?" (What happened, doll?). He continues to squeeze, the feeling of his big, rough hand rubbing the plumpness of your ass starts to pool raw need between your legs.
"You don't like me touching you like this?" He speaks into your ear, eyes half lidded and predatory. "Isn't that what you dressed up like this for, hm?"
The bastard.
You take one fraction of a second to look around, taking note that nobody was watching, apart from a few guys who either enjoy the show or are patiently waiting for Miguel to leave you alone for just a minute.
Not gonna happen.
"Dime." (Tell me.) He steals your attention, his embrace almost lifting you off the ground just to hold you whole against him.
You mouth 'Yes', knowing you can't trust your shaky voice to speak louder for him to hear over the music.
The dancing area is getting increasingly crowded as the night seeps deeper into the city, so you two move towards the bar. He sits on one of the chairs, patting his leg for you. You place yourself on his thigh as he manspreads to give you more space, curling a strong arm around your waist.
You feel the fabric of his beige pants come into contact with your panties, your skirt too short to cover your ass, let alone allow you to sit without having it slide up. You close your legs tightly, seeking a bit more privacy from the public eye.
Trying not to slip from your seat, you attempt to brace yourself on your palms; one hand on his knee, pushing your back into him, and one on-
Fuck.
Your other palm accidentally lands on his crotch, your fingers grazing his half hard cock. Before you can take your hand away and hide your flushed face, he grabs your wrist and keeps it there.
The bartender is making cocktails at the opposite end of the counter, so no one can see what's actually going on. He starts guiding your hand to rub him up and down, a content sigh leaving him. You could swear your own face is very telling by now.
You cup him through the material, feeling the familiar girth of his cock fatten at your attention. He's getting warmer, and so are you.
Before he can start drifting into pleasure, the bartender runs to him, waiting for the order. Miguel asks for a beer, frustrated at the loss of contact, your hands now on the marble counter.
More people gather around the bar, and as his request gets temporarily forgotten amidst the others, he relishes in the re-obtained semi privacy.
"¿Estás bien, muñequita?" He asks, a hint of concern plastered on his face at the sight of your flushed face.
"Don't worry. I'll tell you if I'm uncomfortable." You reassure, feeling bolder.
He smirks, looking around, checking. He feels like a horny teen-ager who has no other choice but to try to explore and test the waters in public. But in reality, he knew exactly what he was doing.
He turns to you, placing a kiss dangerously close to the top of your right breast, teasing. Before you can look down through your hazy vision, he glides a warm palm between your legs, past your skirt, two fingers fitting in the valley of your soft pussy.
You restrain yourself from gasping, instead seeking to hide your face in the crook of his neck. He moves his hand over the mound, flicking your clit through your panties. He can undoubtedly feel how wet you are as he so obscenely cups your cunt. You feel the heat of his palm on you, so comforting in such a filthy way; like that's where it belongs.
Looking down, you're met with the sight of his veined burly arm, muscles flexing as he plays with you, his wrist barely visible underneath your skirt. You clench around nothing, and his motions quicken with expert ease, a clear sign he felt you.
You're left infuriatingly needy for more when he retracts his hand as if nothing happened, the bartender bringing him his beer. You give him a pissed look, and he smiles as he brings the bottle to his mouth.
Smiling, like, what's wrong?
You move to threateningly leave from your seat on his lap, but he follows as expected. He can't lose sight of you.
Walking just a bit further into the crowd, you take his hand behind you. Swaying your hips and undulating your body to the music, you feel the beat through your veins, in your chest, in your head. He comes up behind you, his rhythm in sync with your movements.
Brushing your hair out of the way from behind, he slowly bends down to lick and kiss at the sensitive skin on the side of your neck, raising goosebumps over your skin. You don't know how much longer you'll stay here, seeing how clingy and needy Miguel has gotten.
You feel your pulse throbbing in your neck and through your lust-hazed mind at the stimulation.
"Feel how fast my heart's beating." You take his hand, placing it where your heart would be. He brings the beer bottle to his mouth, drinking nonchalantly as his palm instantly dips into your cleavage, cupping your left breast. You stiffen, once again surprised.
"Yeah." He confirms, as if he didn't just start groping you to feel your heartbeat. "Pretty fast."
He is well aware of how worked up you get simply because of this attitude. He leaves the bottle on a nearby glass table, now both his hands on your boobs, nearly taking them out of your top to play with them. He looks wrecked, absolutely drunk on need.
One of his arms soon curls around your waist and back, pulling you close into him, the other hand still fondling your chest. You arch your back, pushing yourself impossibly closer into his touch, seeking the warmth of his palm.
Wanting to drive him completely mad, you turn around, your back to him, and start grinding your plushy ass over his groin. He grips your hips, guiding you, not hesitating to let his hands wonder back to your tits, squeezing them under the elastic material of your shirt while you're rubbing yourself on his painful erection.
You can now see people staring, especially at the way he touches you. Arching backwards, you curl your arms around his neck, your chest pushed forward and so much more accessible. His palms are now hot on your soft breasts, craving more. Fondling with fervent need.
The music and the people are drowned out, muffled into the very back of your headspace. He leans down, his mouth to your ear.
"Let's get out of here."
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divider by @cafekitsune
a/n: tried to make it as non problematic and as filthy as possible at the same time goddamn
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LITTLE LIGHTS.
Precious Delights (4/5)
Maegor Targaryen x pregnant!niece!Reader
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WORDS: 2 K
WARNINGS: childbirth, swearing, blink and you’ll miss Maegor being his cunty self again
NOTES: Here is the highly requested Part 2 of Precious Delights! Tbh, I haven't put much thought into the exact details, so most of it probably doesn't make any sene, but Reader is Rhaena's twin. Tyanna died before the wedding.
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Tyanna of the Tower had been long dead before Maegor had claimed your hand in marriage and that alone seemed to be as fruitful as it was, since your pregnancy had lasted full ten moons.
You were exhausted beyond belief, pacing your chambers up and down with screams of despair and heavy groans leaving your throat at any contraction that rippled through your body. The maids had been calling for Maegor five times by now, but your husband was nowhere to be found. 
“He is meeting with the small council, I fucking know!“ You groaned as the guard stepped into your chambers to inform you about his unsuccessful mission, your ladies-in-waiting taken aback by your sudden outburst for you had been notorious for nothing else but being soft-spoken and calm. 
The maids, and Grand Maester Benifer, more often than not had advised you to lie down on your bed for reasons of comfort and safety, yet your body told you not to. 
“Where is he really?” you hissed through gritted teeth when a particularly harsh contraction forced you to your knees, clinging to the bedpost as if your life depended on it. Clad in nothing more than a thin, white underdress, you still felt confined, the linen scratching your skin as you ached to tear it off your body. 
Talisa rushed to your side, her gentle hand on the small of your back not mending your discomfort and the confusion and fear you felt at the thought of mastering the birth all by yourself. “We must begin, Princess,” she urged, and despite not being able to think straight at that point, you still heard the tinge of worry in her voice.
You threw your head back, groaning in agony as another contraction followed that forced you to push. Your arms clasped around the bedpost, your sweaty forehead resting against the wood, while you became busy focusing on pushing. 
Too lost in the burning sensation of the babe’s head beginning to crown, you barely noticed the door to the chambers opening, revealing none other than your husband himself. 
Your maid lifted the skirt of your underdress to gauge the process of the birth, paying much less attention to Maegor than you did, as your safety and well-being seemed to be her top priority. Or perhaps it was the well-being of the heir that concerned her most. 
“Where have y–” The words caught in your throat at a harsh contraction and the heightened pain. Your knuckles turned white from how tightly you clung to the bedpost, your maid’s words not making it easier for you. “I can see the head, Princess, just a few more pushes.”
If it wasn’t for your mind dealing with all the different sensations coursing through your body at once, you surely would’ve noticed the way Maegor stood completely frozen in the doorway at your maid’s words. 
“Please… make it stop,” you pleaded with a strained voice, clenching your jaw as you pushed once again. Then, the pain settled for a few moments, allowing you to steady your breath and calm down for the time being. 
A sheen of sweat covered your skin, silver strands of your hair clinging to your face, and the white linen of your underdress was slightly dampened at your back and arms. You raised your head to lock eyes with Maegor, and the sheer audacity of him just standing there useless made your blood boil and soured your mood. “This is… this is all your fault,” you hissed through gritted teeth, though the words were interrupted by groans, “gods… you cunt!”
Perhaps the maester had informed him beforehand about what was going on in a woman’s body during her labors, or perhaps he was cunning enough to put one and one together, but he hardly took any offense to your harsh words. Quite the contrary happened, as the insult seemed to pull him out of his shocked state, prompting him to pass the maids and maester, dismissing all their efforts to talk and inform him about the process of the birth to crouch down beside you. 
Talisa was flabbergasted by Maegor’s movements, her mouth agape with no words leaving her lips for a few seconds, before another scream of you brought her back to the task at hand. “Bear down and push, Princess,” she instructed, and you did as she told. 
Maegor’s paw replaced the maid’s hand on your lower back, his other one raising to cup your folded hands, and you were quick to seize it to squeeze it instead, causing him to take in a sharp breath. “Just a few more,” he encouraged, and you merely groaned in despair. He could be lucky you were occupied by birthing him his long awaited heir, fulfilling your wifely duties, because otherwise you probably would’ve smacked him across his face. 
When the pain got worse all of the sudden, you released a scream that was louder than the ones before, and pushed not once, but twice, until a sudden wave of relief washed over you and you heard the cries of the babe. It lived. 
Your husband’s attention immediately shifted from you to the newborn, and when the maester cut the cord, Maegor forced him and the maid to usher the babe out of your reach. “What is it?” you asked, your voice weak from the exhausting procedure you had to endure. 
But every sense of calmness and comfort washed away when another contraction soared through your body, and a scream of yours seized the attention of Talisa. “It’s the afterbirth,” she tried to reassure you, but her loud gasp proved otherwise, more so as she rose to fetch the maester. 
The urge to bear down once again was too strong to ignore it, pushing yet again. “Gods,” you whimpered, tears running down your flushed and sweaty cheeks, “it hurts.”
Maegor towered over the maester, while he lifted the skirts of your underdress, to spot yet another head breach your body. “Another child,” he proclaimed, whereas you only groaned an ‘I can not do this again’ in your state of shock and pain. 
But you could, and not many moments after, the second babe’s cries pierced through your agonizing groans and pants, only to be seized by your husband and the maester again. This time around, the maids tended to you, gripping your arms to help your weakened frame onto the large bed. 
When the screams of both children grew silent, a certain uneasiness washed over your body, and you would’ve loved nothing more than to get up and grab both children to leave the goddamned Keep altogether. “Bring them to me,” you demanded, but when no one seemed to move to your orders, you merely managed to whine a desperate ‘please’. 
Maegor was the first one to act, slowly creeping closer towards you. He held a bundle of linen in his arms, looking ridiculously small in comparison to his muscular chest and arms, and presented one babe to you. “A boy,“ he said, and you already smiled when you spotted the silver tuft of hair peeking from beneath the cloth. He bowed toward you to show you the small, scrunched face, and you reached forward to take him in your arms, but Maegor just tsked and pulled him back, “you’re too weak, my love, get some rest first.“
“My apologies, Your Grace,” Grand Maester Benifer came forward, looking at the King, “but at the Citadel they say that it’s best for the mother and the child to let it nurse right after birth.” 
With a grim expression on his face, Maegor’s eyes darted to you for a moment. “That is what wet nurses are for.” At this point, your bottom lip trembled, realization settling in that you had been nothing more than a pawn to your uncle. 
Grand Maester Benifer brought a hand to Maegor’s shoulder and ushered him a few steps away from you, their deep voices suddenly turning into whispers you could barely hear. “She has given you two healthy heirs, my King. You ought not risk her life, for she can give you even more.”
Maegor merely nodded at that, and when he turned around, the soft look in his eyes was unsettling you. He handed you the boy without any fuss, but didn’t leave your side as you pulled down the neckline of your underdress to free your breast and allow your child to latch. While his eyes were pale blue, you couldn’t wait for the day they’d be as lilac as yours, staring up at you with the same intensity they carried now. You smoothed his tuft of silver hair, the soft smacking and cooing while he swallowed your milk calming your worries and fear a bit. 
In less than an hour after birthing twins, you had taken on a motherly aura that no doubt even softened the cold heart of your uncle-husband for he gently brushed the knuckle of his index finger over the small boy’s cheek. “I have named him Aerion,” Maegor stated matter-of-factly, and you just nodded, admiring the memorial of your great-grandsire. 
“And the girl?” you asked, not able to tear your eyes from the delicate creature in your arms. “That is up to you,” your husband replied, and with a come hither motion of his fingers, the maid brought over another bundle of linen. That piqued your interest, and Maegor seemed to notice, since he pulled the cloth down enough for you to spot her scrunched face. She was just as beautiful as her brother. Despite her being barely an hour old, you spotted a few similarities to your grandaunt in her features, and hoped she would grow up to be as fierce as her. “Visenya.”
Maegor raised his brow at that, obviously not expecting you to name your daughter after his mother, but he welcomed the sentiment by pulling his lips into a soft smile that perhaps even sparked a hint of admiration and affection to flicker in his violet eyes. 
Once the boy was done nursing, his place was taken by his sister, though you placed her so she latched on your other breast. The relief it brought you was unmatchable, and the peaceful, nurturing feeling the nursing granted made your heart swell with love. 
“My sister has placed dragon eggs in the cradles of my younger siblings, and I want the same for our children,” you said, your fingers mindlessly dancing along the crown of the newborn’s head. “A clutch of eggs laid by Dreamfyre is still kept here in the Keep.”
You lifted your head to gauge where Maegor had taken Aerion, slightly panicked that you had seen the last of the boy, only to spot him sitting on a chaise not too far away with the sleeping boy cradled in his muscular arms. His head was bowed forward, and his whole attention was focused on his son. It was a moment of unusual softness, and you didn’t know he possessed a trait like that–or rather that he kept it up even after the children were born. 
When he raised his head to meet your expectant gaze, he was quick to address the maids with a stern tone he had rarely used in your presence for the past few moons. “You have heard your Queen’s demands. Bring her the eggs, so she can choose the ones most suitable for your King’s heirs.” 
You hadn’t noticed the silence surrounding you four before, maids and maester alike silenced in awe, and only appreciated it once it was gone with the hurried rustling and stomping from the staff exiting the room. 
And when night overcame King’s Landing, two cradles carrying the most precious creatures standing in front of your marital bed, your uncle-husband joined you for the first time since the start of your pregnancy, sharing the bed with you without any bawdy intentions on his mind. 
Ever since you were forced to leave your mother on Dragonstone to take Maegor’s hand in marriage, you felt at ease in the confines of the Red Keep, despite not knowing what the forthcoming summers might hold for you. 
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Maegor Taglist: @hypocritic-trash-baby
General Taglist: @watercolorskyy @nothingqueens @urmomsgirlfriend1
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the-aisei-cousins · 3 months
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Event: Camping Trip
(Tw: mention and talks of Pedophilia, R@pe, child abuse, and cannibalism.(also sorry that I forgot to add this. I thought I did when I wrote this.))
You had received an email from Hope's Peak Academy
'You were invited to help Ms. Dai to take Class 82 onto a 2 week long camping trip starting tomorrow! Class 82 will be thankful for your participation.
We are not responsible for any minor damage, major injuries, any human beings being eaten, and/or deaths that Class 82 may cause.'
You decided to join. Probably your better judgment but to join, you chose none the less. The next day, you went to Hope's Peak Academy to see a group of 7 teens and one little robot girl. All had on a white shirt with brown shorts on.
One was a dark skinned girl with two IDs. One was a Substitute Teacher ID and the other a Student ID for the same school. She was in front and facing the rest of the students.
There was a boy with black hair and brown eyes. He had a bunch of scars on his body, some old, some new, some healed, some still fresh.
The robot girl was to his left. She seems to be design to look around 8 years old, but she seems to be an old model. The body was rusty in some areas and wore down by time.
To her left was a boy with an red jacket on. He had the hood over his head and sunglasses covering his face. His hands were in his pocket.
To his left was a young lady with long light reddish pink hair, dilated pupils, and a slightly jagged tooth. She was the tallest in her class.
To her left was Irofuka Nijiue. It was weird to see him not in a butler uniform. He was stilling wearing his red gloves and his hair was pulled into a short, low ponytail.
To his left was Yolei, wearing a light turtleneck sweater underneath the shirt. The also had leggings and a bag on. She was leaning towards Irofuka.
And finally, Yoshino, who had her hair in a ponytail and was wearing stockings under her shorts. She also had a small backpack on.
Yù: "Okay, let's go over the rules, one more time. No killing people, selling illegal substances or items, and no eating people. Alive or Dead. We will still be doing theapry sessions while camping. Don't wonder to far, especially at night. We have to introduce ourselves to our guests, even if we already met them. That means, telling them your actual names and Ultimate Talents, alright?"
"Yes Ma'am."
Yù: "Thank you Yoshino."
Do you say anything?
Tags:
@y0u-f4il3d-m3 @mikado-sannoji @low-activity-side-characters @yui-samidare-reborn @human-monokuma @kamon-of-hope @edens-garden-au @master-detective-archives @beautiful-despair @after-neo-world @scarred-smiles @i-spy-with-my-lethal-eye @sinistersmiles @xxcottoncandybitchxx @anyone else
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flowerandblood · 3 months
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Object of Delight (3/3)
[ dark • Aemond x Arryn • widow female ]
[ warnings: sex content, oral sex, fingering, smut, angst, domination, swearing, postpartum depression ]
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[ description: Aemond is forced to marry a widow from House Arryn as part of the alliance and support of his brother in the war against the Black faction. Despite his initial reluctance, a bond develops between him and his wife that he cannot understand or comprehend. In this chapter I combine several requests into one. The female character has a specific eye and hair color. ]
Part 1 − Object of Desire Part 2 − Object of Despair Epilogue
* English is not my first language. Please, do not repost. Enjoy! *
My other works: Masterlist
_____
The frequency and fervour with which he fucked his wife caused it to be less than three moons before the measter brought him the joyful news during one of his sparring sessions with Ser Criston, informing him that she was expecting his child.
He explained that he had been summoned by one of her servants when she suddenly fainted, and as it turned out, the cause of her indisposition was his inheritance in her womb.
He couldn't help the smirk of satisfaction and the amused look he threw Cole, for here it appeared that, in fact, her deceased husband had simply failed to perform his duty well − his seed was weak and his lineage would be forgotten.
Although he was buzzing with curiosity and desire to see her now, to take her in this blessed state, he decided not to show his weakness and make it to the end of his training following his daily routine, heading to her chamber immediately after taking a quick bath.
His long white hair was still a little damp when he crossed the threshold of her quarters − the door closed quietly behind him, and he looked at her sleeping figure lying on her bed, covered in thick furs. He hummed, walking slowly closer, recognising that she had made the right decision to rest − in her current state she needed to look out for herself more than before.
He stood over her in silence for a moment, fighting the burning desire to touch her face, to take an unruly strand from her cheek, but hesitated.
He only made gestures that someone might call affectionate after their intense closeness, when she slept snuggled against his naked chest, her hand on which she wore a golden ring in the shape of a sun with a sapphire eye, his gift to her, proof that she was capable of pleasing him both in and out of bed, rested on his heart.
He stroked her soft, smooth hair then, her bare shoulder, looking at her out of the corner of his eye, musing. The fact that she spent the nights with him became natural to them − he did not summon her and she did not wait for his permission, following him to his quarters immediately after supper. They didn't speak much, didn't confide their secrets to each other, instead getting to know each other's bodies intimately.
They were able to lie on their sides in the dark for hours satisfying and teasing each other with their mouths without giving each other fulfilment. He enjoyed watching out of the corner of his eye, trailing his lips over her hot, leaking womanhood as his wife sucked unhurriedly on his cock, licking and teasing it with her pink tongue, her caresses gentle and tender, making his fingers involuntarily clench tighter on the naked skin of her hips right next to his face.
There was something liberating to him in the fact that she did not require him to make confessions or sacrifice his regular daily life; although it had always seemed to him that a wife was merely an extension of her husband and his shadow, she preferred to remain a separate entity and he chose not to overuse the power he had over her, not finding it necessary.
He shuddered, snapped out of his reverie when her eyes opened lazily − she smiled barely visible, softly, perhaps even warmly at the sight of him.
"Are you trying to scare me?" She muttered, turning only to sink deeper into the soft bedding, looking at him calmly, her eyes bright, her face smooth, without a trace of a grimace.
He snorted, amused, turning his head away for a moment only to look at her again, sighing heavily − even though he tried to keep a grave face he knew she had noticed his contentment with the news that had reached him.
"I have been informed that you are carrying my son in your womb." He hummed low, deeply − she blinked, smiling wider.
"I don't know if it will be a son." She replied softly, and he hummed again; she shifted back as he walked closer to her bed and lay on his side, his face turned towards her, laying his head on the pillow right next to hers. They looked at each other for a moment in silence, feeling that although neither of them used words, this was a day of their shared joy, for here was the fruit of their efforts.
He raised his large hand at the thought, unable to contain himself − his fingers took a strand of her black hair and flicked it over her back with a light gesture. She smiled wider, knowing that he couldn't stand it when something covered her face.
Her eyes.
Taking advantage of the fact that he had already touched her, he involuntarily ran his thumb over her soft, plump cheek. He saw that she had closed her eyes, sighing quietly, his gaze focused on her long, dark lashes. His fingers tightened around her neck, drawing her to him and she purred loudly as his swollen lips pressed against hers in a wet, loud, hot kiss.
He pulled away from her with a quiet click, but her lips ran invitingly over his, telling him that she craved more, so he sank into their fleshy texture again, slipping the tip of his tongue between them, a sweet, innocent moan came from her throat causing his cock to throb impatiently in his breeches.
He took her more gently than usual, rocking his hips lazily deep inside her, each time the tip of his swollen manhood rubbing the spot between her muscles, from which a shiver of pleasure ran through her whole body, her fingers tightening on his muscular shoulders, her body beginning to meet his, wordlessly letting him know that he could accelerate his pace.
Her short, slender fingernails dug into the bare skin of his firm buttocks as he began to thrust into her more aggressively, wanting him to do it even harder − he stroked her cheek as she began to babble, asking, begging him to give her what she needed.
"− we need to be more careful now because of the baby − I know, I know you need it, shhh −" He hushed her, closing her mouth with his own, his hands gripped her thighs, with sure, deep thrusts pounding into her at an angle that he knew gave her the greatest pleasure − she arched her back with a sweet moan as his thumb began to tease her bud with circular, intense strokes, her walls began to squeeze him, soaking him all over in her moisture.
"− Aemond −" She mumbled pleadingly, in the way he adored most − he looked down at her panting loudly, resting his free hand on the bed frame in front of him, thrusting into her again and again with the sticky splat of his thighs against her buttocks, his cock throbbing hard, demanding fulfilment.
"− I know − I'll lick you good tonight and slap those buttocks a little − sounds good, hm? −" He gasped, looking at her with affection from which he felt a squeeze in his throat. She nodded her head quickly and cried out − he felt her muscles clench at the very thought, sucking him inside, her cheeks red from exertion and desire, her swollen, full lips parted wide, her hands trailing over his hot flesh.
"− yes − please − fuck me good − o-oh gods −" She mewled sweetly as her body shook with eager, overpowering fulfilment − she tilted her head back, writhing beneath him, her weeping cunt began to clench on him greedily, intensifying his pleasure.
"− good girl −" He exhaled wearily as with a few desperate, sloppy thrusts he came inside her with a loud sigh of relief, looking at her in disbelief.
The woman who had given him what he craved.
"− you did so well for me −" He whispered, leaning over her, being careful not to crush her with his body, sinking his nose into her soft cheek. She wrapped her hands around his waist, stroking his back, making a shiver run along his spine every time her fingers brushed over his hot, sweaty skin.
She knew there was a deeper meaning to what he said and that it didn't just refer to their intense closeness.
Her abdomen swelling from his inheritance was his reason for being proud − his hand lay on it and stroked it involuntarily during the evenings or mornings she spent in his company.
As she lay naked beside him at night, sweaty and welted from what he had done to her, her cunt all puffy and sore from the caresses of his tongue, he hugged his face to her womb, smiling involuntarily when he sometimes managed to feel the movement of the little dragon that was growing inside her.
Despite the maester's recommendation that they should not cohabit with each other when she was in such advanced pregnancy and their strenuous attempts to confine themselves to the use of their mouths alone, as she lay beside him, cuddled with her back to his chest, his manhood swelled involuntarily, slapping against her buttocks.
She would then spread her thighs invitingly, teasing him with the strokes of her hips, tilting her head back, whispering how wet she was, and he, impatiently lifted her higher, forcing the fat head of his cock with their sigh of relief into her tight, throbbing opening, and although they knew they should do it slowly, they fucked each other rough.
"− can't you last a few fucking days without my cock? − isn't it enough that you came on my face tonight? −" He exhaled, listening as his thighs slapped fast against her buttocks with loud smacks, his manhood thrusting into her with ease, her insides slick with her juices, his fingers between her thighs, their tips playing with her clit, not letting her escape.
"− I came having your cock deep inside my mouth − have you forgotten already? −" She gasped and he groaned low at the thought, quickening his pace, clamping his hand around her neck so as not to make it difficult for her to breathe and accidentally hurt the baby − he hid his face in her hair, feeling that he was embarrassingly close to another fulfilment.
"− no − that's not something you can forget − fuck −" He muttered, feeling her sticky walls begin to suck him inside in orgasm, her moisture spilling over his thighs, her moans making him let go, letting his hot seed spill inside her.
"− gods, so good − I can't stop −" He mumbled, and she sighed heavily, moving with him for a moment longer, stroking his arm that embraced her swollen abdomen.
"− me too −"
On the day of the delivery he was restless, pacing around his chamber, full of tension, unable to sit still. She felt the first contractions in the morning and collapsed as her servants helped her dress, whimpering, terrified that it had begun.
He consoled himself with the thought that her mother, the Queen and his sister were with her, that she was not alone, but he could not stop thinking about Aemma, her grandfather's sister and his father's first wife, how she had died and that, although he tried to push the vision away, the birth could prove complicated.
He swallowed hard, running his hand over his face, unwittingly seeing in his mind her pale, lifeless body, her empty violet eyes, her cheeks drenched in tears, her nightgown soaked in blood at the height of her thighs.
He groaned lowly, trying to calm down, repeating to himself that this would not happen, that she was not Aemma and he was not his father.
Hours passed, however, and he still hadn't received any news of her condition − he felt like he was dying inside, for some reason he wanted to weep with despair.
He saw himself with his hands placed deep in the fire of his fireplace, holding his dragon egg, clenching his lips in pain, begging the gods for it to crack.
He shuddered, snapped out of his reverie, rising to his feet as the maester stepped inside his chamber, his attention immediately drawn to the fact that his hands were all dirty in blood.
"Your Grace. You have a son." He said in a trembling voice, and he looked at him dully, as if he did not understand what he had said.
"What about my wife?"
He moved immediately to her chamber when he learned that she had endured the birth very badly, that there was no contact with her, that she had a fever.
That she might not survive.
He didn't even look at the wailing child in his Queen's arms − he walked immediately to the bed where her mother was sobbing, stroking her hands.
She looked exactly as in his vision, pale, her gaze blank, directed somewhere far away, her chemise all red with blood − if it weren't for the fact that her breast was rising and falling in shallow breaths he would have thought she was dead.
"− Your Grace, you shouldn't −" He heard the voice of one of the ladies of the court, but he just stood there looking at her with his lips pressed together, feeling a squeeze in his throat and chest so strong that he had the impression that his whole body had begun to tremble.
He involuntarily moved towards her, climbing onto the bed, leaning on his knees, his trembling hand touched her hot, sweaty cheek, all wet with tears.
"− my love − my love, speak to me −" He whispered, but she didn't even look at him − she only twitched, one last, lonely tear flowed from the corner of her eye.
Something about the sight broke him − he pressed his forehead to her temple, panting hard, her wonderful scent filling his lungs again.
"− don't leave me − don't leave me alone in this world −"
He didn't know if his words had reached her, her fever intensified by the night he had spent by her side with her mother. He sat in a chair watching as she washed her face, already dressed in a clean, snow-white undershirt, covered by thick layers of furs, her body quivering all over, sunk in a deep, restless sleep.
"− I thought the worst was behind her − after that bastard −" She began, but pressed her lips together, as if unable to get it out of her − he looked at her anxiously, feeling his whole body tense up.
She had never told him about her first husband.
Nor had he ever asked about it, not even wanting to recall that another man had had her before him.
"− was he not a good husband? −" He asked impassively − Lady Arryn looked up at him with big eyes, her eyebrows arched in despair and anger at the same time.
Her hair were as dark as his wife's, but her irises were golden and bright, shining in the candlelight around them.
She swallowed loudly, her chin trembling all over, as if she couldn't get it out of her.
"− I − I didn't find out until a year later − that when it turned out she was bleeding, that she wasn't carrying his child − every month he made her sleep in godswood, in just her nightgown − h-he said − gods, he said that until she gave him an heir, she was like his sword, his book, or his horse − her servants took pity on her and when he fell asleep, they would take her to their chambers beneath the stronghold −" She muttered, tears of grief and bitterness running down her face. He looked at her dully, feeling as if he was about to vomit, his stomach painfully clenched − he ran his trembling hand over his face, hearing her words during their wedding night inside his head.
A wife is a gift. Like a sword, a book or a horse.
He closed his eyes, swallowing hard, feeling a burning wetness under his eyelids that he did not let flow.
Her silhouette lying under the weirwood tree, then, as he followed her.
He thought she stopped visiting this place when it became apparent that she was expecting his child because walking such long distances began to be difficult for her.
"− my husband did the right thing − he deserved it −" She exclaimed, and he didn't speak again, knowing what she meant.
He only breathed a sigh of relief the next day when her fever had diminished and she was still breathing. She would wake up and only babble, her mother would feed her and help her dress, and he would just be beside her, overseeing everything, wanting to make sure nothing escaped his attention.
He knew that his son was in the care of his mother and sister.
As she began to regain consciousness, it was decided to introduce their son to her − one of the wet nurses, a plump woman with a wide smile brought in her arms an infant with his white hair and her mother's golden eyes. He smiled involuntarily at the sight, hoping that the appearance of her child would give her strength.
"Look, my Lady. It's your little boy. Would you like to feed him?" The woman asked softly, but his wife merely looked away, tense, staring out of the window, her fingers clenched on the thick fur that covered her. He pressed his lips together at the sight, feeling that something was happening deep inside her, that something had taken place during the birth that had broken her.
She did not want to look at the baby, touch it or feed it − she only expressed in a weak voice her satisfaction that their child was healthy.
Her mother tried to persuade her to at least take her son in her arms, that she would then immediately feel maternal love and attachment, but she shook her head quickly, tears running down her face as if she didn't even want to imagine it.
"− Your Grace, I'm afraid a heavy birth has caused your wife to lose her senses, she is rejecting her own child − I believe that at this point she is dangerous to Your Highness' son and should be left alone for a while to calm down −" The maester told him as he left her chamber to change and refresh himself, his lips tightened into a thin line at his words.
"− weigh your words − my wife is suffering, and you are to find the cause of it −" He hissed, furious, the man swallowed hard and nodded, not speaking again.
When he returned to her quarters, he noticed to his surprise that her bed was empty, her mother asleep in her chair, tired, no one else around.
He went outside in a panic, wondering where she could have gone, heading towards the godswood, however, he froze in a half-step walking down the corridor when he noticed that the door to the chamber his son slept in was ajar.
He walked slowly inside and stopped, noticing her silhouette sitting next to the cradle, looking blankly at the sleeping infant, her face indifferent and expressionless. She lifted her gaze to him at last, as if snapped out of her reverie, her eyebrows arched in pain, her fingers clenched on the fabric of her nightgown.
"What's going to happen to me now?" She muttered in a trembling voice and he shook his head, not understanding what she was asking.
"I do not follow." He replied; she lowered her gaze, her lower lip quivered, tears ran down her cheeks − she seemed to have fallen into some kind of state of panic.
"Now that I've given you a son. What are you going to do with me? Will you pretend I don't exist? Will you find yourself a lover?"
He stared at her stunned, feeling the quick pounding of his heart and the squeeze in his throat, horrified at the direction her thoughts were taking.
"Where did those words come from?" He asked in disbelief, feeling that he was struggling to breathe, his hands clenched into fists.
She hid her face in her hands, shaking her head, bursting into a loud sobs as if something inside her had cracked.
"I can't. I can't, I can't, I can't." She squirmed, drawing in air loudly − he moved towards her, kneeling in front of her, pressing her face to his chest.
"Calm down. Please." He whispered, her fingers clenching tightly on the material of his green tunic in a helpless gesture of despair.
"I am worn out. I'm a worn-out, empty vessel. There's nothing more I can give you." She whimpered, and he clamped his eyelids shut, pulling her close. Her body fell to the ground right beside him, and he wrapped his arms around her tightly, cuddling her into himself like a small child, stroking her soft dark hair reassuringly.
"You are my wife. I will never betray you or our family. We can wait with begetting another child until you are ready. After all, we have our ways of doing that, don't we?" He asked in a soft, trembling voice, trying to comfort her, to let her understand that nothing was over, but on the contrary, in his eyes, it had only just begun.
"I've been contemplating for some time that I should take you in front of that guard who looks at you so shamelessly when you're wearing gowns of thinner material. When your breasts are visible through it. That would give him something to think about, hm? And the most important thing. Vhagar. The mother of my child must know what it means to ride a dragon." He hummed into her ear, playing with strands of her hair, feeling her shiver at his words, that she was returning to him, her body no longer trembling, her breathing calming.
"I thought I'd already ridden the world's greatest dragon." She whispered, and he involuntarily smirked and snorted, kissing her hair.
"Not like this."
They stayed like that for a while in each other's embrace, sitting on the floor, stroking each other's cheeks, shoulders and hair, for the first time so close, so tender, so sincere. They shuddered when they heard sobbing and whimpering coming from the cradle − they both rose and he turned his head, calling the guard, telling them to bring a nursemaid.
"No." She said softly, coming closer, leaning over the cradle, taking their son into her arms. She embraced him and began rocking him, shushing him reassuringly as she looked at his face.
"− hello, little one − I know − it's not your fault −" She muttered with difficulty, tears in her eyes − he looked at this sight with a squeezed throat and swallowed heavily.
"− come here − are you hungry? −" She asked, sitting down on the window sill, slipping the material of her nightgown off her shoulder, exposing her breast, all swollen, full of milk − he felt his manhood throb involuntarily in his breeches at this sight.
She breathed a quiet sigh of relief as their son, nestled against her breast, found her nipple and, in a natural, subconscious instinct, began to suck on it greedily, clamping his small hand over her skin.
She looked at their child with curiosity and some kind of warmth that moved him.
He approached her, leaning over her, kissing the top of her head, sinking his nose into her soft hair, looking out of the corner of his eye at this almost mythological sight of a woman feeding her offspring.
"− what did you name our son? −" She asked quietly, and he felt hot in his chest hearing her use the word our.
"− I waited with this decision for you − you are his mother −" He replied softly, taking an unruly strand of her hair from her face. She mused, looking at the infant suckled to her breast and smiled softly.
"− Jaehaerys −" She whispered, and he hummed under his breath, delighted that they had thought of the same thing.
Of their common ancestor.
"− so Jaehaerys it will be −"
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yuellii · 9 months
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When reticent rainfall restricted the outings of the common-folk, Neuvillette tended to blame himself for causing these complications.
But storms in the Court of Fontaine symbolized sadness; and such sadness, he noticed, matched so simultaneously with his own demeanor. Rain always resembled the frown on his face—downpours always dawned from his despair. The weather was only a weaving track through his withering tears.
So why, now, was it beginning to pour when he caught sight of you patting the head of a Melusine?
The sight was what those old romance books would describe as heart-warming; endearing, too. Your hand ruffling through her little head of hair ( especially one that he speaks his morning greetings to every day ) was a sight akin to sweet Fontainian desserts. Who would’ve thought that you’d grace him with your appearance during his morning routine? Such a pleasant occurrence—and yet, he still feels cold rain begin to land at the top of his head.
“Oh no!” you exclaimed in quite a silly manner, talking to the Melusine whilst not noticing his eyeful presence from the sidelines. “It’s drizzling, let’s take cover aside the building!”
A twinge of guilt settled in the Chief Justice’s stomach immediately, blaming himself for the rain. To make matters even more confusing, he just couldn’t figure out why rain was beginning to fall in the first place. Were these droplets not the resemblance of his tears? Pitiful feelings of sorrow from the Hydro Dragon—was this gloomy weather not the definite denotation of that?
“Don’t worry, my body is accustomed to water!” the Melusine waved off. Then, she tossed her little guard hat to you, ushering it into your hands. “But your body is not, so please take some cover!”
The working Melusine clearly liked you; Neuvillette’s heart might have skipped a beat. Rain started falling a bit harder.
“Oh, Monsieur Neuvillette!” the little Melusine suddenly waved, calling him over. You looked surprised to see him yourself, but he tried his hardest to rid of this sudden nervousness. Somehow, for some reason, it was taking him a bit of adjusting just to walk over to you. He sweared he’s never felt like this before. “Good morning!” the Melusine brightly smiled.
“Good morning,” he responded shortly, slightly ducking his head in a makeshift sort-of bow. The man joined the two of you underneath the overhang of this quaint shop, standing across from you such that the little Melusine stood in between.
The little one turned back up to look at you. “You know, the Chief Justice greets all the working Melusine’s every morning!”
“Every morning?” you repeated, almost like you were talking to a young girl.
“Every morning!”
There’s a gentle smile on your face as you look down at the childlike excitement radiating from the Melusine between you. And despite all this energy coming from the little guard, Neuvillette found it impossible to take his eyes off of you, instead. How kind you looked, staring down at her as you listened carefully to her words—Neuvillette might’ve been entranced.
“The Chief Justice is a very good man,” you spoke down to the Melusine, “isn’t he?”
“Very much so!”
Neuvillette could feel his chest tighten once again. The currently light drizzle suddenly had a random burst of a downpour.
He cleared his throat, “Thank you.”
You hummed, finally looking up at him. “The rain is quite peculiar today, isn’t it?” His cheeks suddenly warmed from the way you looked at him. He couldn’t quite tell what was different this time, for you always looked at him like this—such a look of normalcy. Every time he came to see you during work, you looked just the same. Just another human; But now, he might’ve felt a bit insecure. Archons, perhaps you made him a little sick. He did not reject your attempts at small talk, however.
“What makes you say that?” he asked in response.
“It’s still sunny, good Monsieur.” And when he looked up to the sky, he found that you were right. Water only fell from a few, light clouds. Otherwise, bright blue skies could still be seen. Following his gaze to the lightness above, you continued, “The rain seems to be a bit happier today.”
Happier… Happy rain…
Was it possible to cry from happiness?
He’s never heard of such a thing.
“Maybe the legendary Hydro Dragon is crying from joy right now!” the Melusine perked up, agreeing wholeheartedly with your comment. You immediately laughed at her statement, finding some measure of endearment in her enthusiasm.
And when you looked back down at the Melusine with such a kind expression—an expression that trapped all air in his lungs—he might find himself agreeing with you, too. “Crying joy,” you repeated with a smile in your eyes. “Oh, I bet he is.”
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sakkiichi · 9 months
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HERE COMES THE SUN.
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They comfort you while you’re having a difficult time.
ft. Childe, Lyney, Albedo, Shikanoin Heizou x gn! reader.
cw/genre: hurt/comfort.
for my dear @https-furina I know you’ve been going through trying times lately, so I hope this can comfort you a little <3 I also struggled a lot with Heizou’s part, so I apologize if it’s no good at all…
if you enjoy this, reblogs and comments help more than likes !
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✧ CHILDE
Linen sheets feel like ropes on raw skin against the morning chill.
Its warm cream color, ashen, nothing like the mirror sunrises you were used to witnessing right after you opened your eyes.
What’s the point in opening them anymore? You wonder.
You bury your face against the pillows. In any other occasion, you would have been grateful for the coolness of its silk.
Now it’s just an iceberg. Like a missing shard of your shallow beating heart.
“Someone’s sleepy today.” A familiarly perky voice greets, the mattress dipping slightly with new weight.
You rolling in the other direction is all the greeting that meets him.
“Hey, love! It’s time to wake up!” Childe chuckles, his hand gently shaking your body.
Yet something already tells him this is not right; you usually would have already shoved him away by now.
But today you’re just… unresponsive…
The dull oceans of his stare rise in dangerous waves at your state.
Hesitant, he calls your name, his tone more like a question.
And this time, he does get an answer.
Familiar arms he adores wrapped around him loop around his middle, your face burying against his chest.
You’re warm, yet you feel so… faraway… as if the pain of past memories was seeping out your light.
Ajax is no stranger to the despair palpable in your strong grip around him, he’s endured it himself, through years robbed of him by an abyss that turned him into a master of all weapons.
So because he’s known the cold of endless nights where all he had was a tattered red scarf to remember the warmth of a distant home, he now holds you.
And for someone whose hands were tainted in the filth and bloodshed of a lifetime of slaughter, Ajax is undeniably gentle.
His fingertips ghost over your skin, easing the burning anguish of bed covers that felt too rough, too suffocating, too wrong.
When your lover’s hands get lost in your hair, combing it, you swear sun rays filter through the deep sea you’re falling through.
And then, suddenly, the choice to swim upwards presents before you, scarred sun-kissed hands extended towards you.
You take them.
When you open your eyes, russet sunsets and constellations over your beloved’s skin greet you.
His lips find yours, a bit chapped but gentle; not his usual playfulness, but soothing aquamarine waves.
You swear Childe’s kiss tastes salty. And that’s when you realize the dry tear-tracks down your cheeks.
He made them dry, sunlight evaporating puddles after grey days.
You break the surface, the waters now turquoise beneath Ajax’s light.
He won’t let you sink again.
✧ LYNEY
A whole audience’s cheers fill the Opera Epiclese. Lights shine upon every smiling face, every vigourous clap of hands after the magician’s grand finale echoing through the theater.
However, the illusionist’s gaze of amethyst is focused on the sole grim expression amongst millions of joyous others.
Yours.
Your hands move, clapping together, as if automated; your eyes stare at everything, seeing nothing; your mouth is a taut line, your lips devoid of their usual vibrant tint.
Lyney doesn’t like that being his last memory before the curtain closes.
When you step out of the Opera House, an infinity of starfields is abloom across the crepuscular skies.
What a mockery; a cruel jinx on display, for you to see the unfulfilled sparks dimming inside your heart.
A sigh escapes your dry lips, a small cloud forming when it meets the late night chill.
“You’ll catch a cold there, mon coeur,” Someone you know, tricks and all, utters behind you.
Welcome warmth tinted in lavender envelops you the instant your eyes meet the magician’s starry ones.
A small smile tugs at your lips, the curse of melancholy still clinging to you through it.
“Lyney…” You start. The twilit breeze picks up around you, your arms instinctively wrapping around yourself for some semblance of a warmth you haven’t felt in days.
“That won’t do, ma chérie.” Your lover chuckles.
Then, with a wave of his hand, a piece of the night sky itself seems to become tangible in his grasp.
“Here,” he offers, draping it over your shoulders.
Upon closer inspection, you realize it’s a shawl; the cloth feels delicate to the touch, quite fine too, and yet, you feel the warmth of a thousand suns. If you had to describe its color you would come up empty. Silver glitter seems to be embedded in the fabric, but at the same time, it looks like multiple tiny lights had been stitched to the material. You suppose you’d call the hue, dark; a myriad of indigoes merge into violets, threaded together with navies and cobalts. And yet, when you move it, the colors seem to shift, almost like the clouds drifting across this midnight.
“I take it you liked it.” Lyney smiles, softer than his usual cheshire-like grins, when he observes your wonderstruck features.
“Very…” You muse, awestruck at the magical silk.
“It’s a châle de ciel,” your beloved explains, “It will change depending on the state of the sky at each time of day.” He pauses, eyes, the color of lumidouce bells and rainbow rose petals merged, glinting as he admires how the garment fits you. “But I can guarantee,” your illusionist steps closer to you, plucking something out of your hair. “That it will always keep you comfortable… warm or cool, whatever you need.” He finishes, handing you a pluie lotus.
You take a few seconds to appreciate the second gift of the night. The flower’s petals are the same color as Lyney’s eyes, yet not as vivacious.
“Shall we go, mon amour?” Your boyfriend inquires, already offering your arm to him.
Together, you leave the opera house behind.
You hope for light blues on your new cape tomorrow morning. And somehow, you know that’s what you’ll find.
You squeeze Lyney’s arm gently. The sun will rise soon.
✧ ALBEDO
When he sets foot on his camp in Dragonspine, Albedo finds the heater already on.
Strange.
The sun hasn’t even quite awoken yet, the snowy peaks outlined against skies still clinging to dreamless cloudy nights; shards of ice, embedded in the softness of dawn clouds. An accurate representation of the region of freedom’s snowy mountains: menacingly beautiful, brimming with lethal charm, for one step in the wrong direction, and the cold might as well consume you for good.
At this hour, no one was ever already working at his lab, making of these moments calm sunrise-tinted memories in the alchemist’s mind, before the day’s hustle and bustle began.
However, today, the running heater is not the only out of the ordinary salutation to greet the chalk prince.
The acute sounds of clicking vials, books being rearranged and crunching snow are confirmation enough that he is, indeed, not alone.
With silent steps, Albedo advances, keeping one hand hovering over his trusty sword. Then, he finally lays eyes upon the cause for the commotion, and despite the lack of danger, the sight doesn’t calm him any better.
“My dearest?” He calls. The instant your gaze meets his, your condition scares him more than any bandits ransacking his research material. Your hair is messy, falling on your face; dark circles are etched beneath your lower lashline, darkness clinging to you like remnants of turbulent nights; and you’re shivering, whether from the cold or because you’re distempered he can’t quite discern, although it’s most likely due to both.
“Hello, ‘Bedo…” You mutter, the flesh of your lips bitten, flecks of Dragonspine’s freeze coating them, the cold lacing with your bones, chilling you to the core. Your eyes widen when you notice your lover’s teal gaze scrutinizing you. You quickly busy yourself with classifying some potions, by color and texture, whatever takes the longest for him not to worry about your less than ideal condition.
However, perhaps you underestimated his attention to detail; for he has a skilled artist, after all.
“My love, are you feeling alright?” He questions, gloved hands gently taking the crystal vial-filled wooden box you were carrying off your trembling hold.
And in that instant, you don’t know if it’s the warmth of your prince’s hands on yours; or the comfort of his voice, like honey on bitter tea, but you find yourself taking a deep breath, the fresh air of a midwinter’s sunrise filling your lungs.
And then you talk. You spill every worry and bad dream, your shadows opening up to the gilded starlight of him.
And through it all, the alchemist’s hands warm yours, fingers interlocked, very much in the way your souls are undeniably so too.
Because no matter how daunting the river seemed when you faced it alone, when you were with Albedo, its typhoons calmed down, stone bridges and his outstretched hand painting safety and comfort in hues of gold before your eyes.
While the kreideprinz grounds you, the sun reaches its peak, a canvas of aureate and cornflower blue grazing the mountaintops.
You would be okay.
✧ SHIKANOIN HEIZOU
Emerald eyes read through you as if you were made of clear glass.
The way you worry your lower lip between your teeth; your fingers almost going white at the knuckles as you clutch a pencil, its wood creaking in your grip; and the general absentminded state you’re in, papers scattered over your desk, several case files stacked in disarray.
Something is clearly weighting on your mind.
“I think a break’s in order, wouldn't you agree, sweetheart?” Heizou suggests, standing up, those striking eyes of his fixed on you.
The detective’s voice is enough to stop the quickening clock ticking in your mind, regrets and dark spirals momentarily coming to a halt.
When you rise your furrowed brow, shades of maroon and viridian flood your sight, vivid as summer and warming your up just as much.
Nodding, you stand up too, limbs feeling heavy despite the comfort of your lover beside you.
The brown shades of your office turn into blue skies and soft pink sakuras not long after, the scented tree branches swaying above you, like fragments of dreams someone had given up on, waiting to be picked up by another soul who dared to imagine.
Your back rests against your lover’s lean but strong torso, the sweet smelling breeze combing through your hair, as Heizou’s chin rests on your shoulder.
“So will you tell me what’s wrong, darling?” Are the words of his that break the birdsong-filled calm.
A pang settles on your chest, you didn’t want to take away that cheeky grin that most of the time decorated his quick-witted lips.
“I…” You hesitate. “Well, it’s- it’s complicated, Heizou…” Your lids flutter closed, a shaky breath raking through you, as you turn around in his embrace, your hands bracing on his shoulders. “I don’t want to bring the mood down, you know…”
The detective places a thumb on your lower lip, smoothing over the bite marks you left there earlier.
“You never, ever, bring the mood down, dear. Never.” He leans in, brushing a soft kiss over your forehead. “My intuition told me right away there was something up.” He takes a stray cherry blossom petal from your hair. “So, why don’t we take the rest of the day off, love?” Your partner proposes, as he takes your chin in between his fingers, mischief flashing in his features.
And perhaps your lover’s smile was more infectious than you had ever given it credit for; and maybe the way he flashes his green eyes at you has your heart trembling in ways that have nothing to do with the fear and guilt you’ve been festering, but you find yourself retorting back, with a grin of your own:
“Don’t you have cases to solve, detective Shikanoin?”
This time, he takes a full sakura flower, delicately placing it behind your ear.
“I have something more important to solve right here…” He smirks, cheekily, as he admires your now flustered expression.
When you lean the side of your head against his chest, he cradles it with one of his hands, the other playing with the ends of your hair.
It would be unfair, if gloom were to take your soul captive when spring seems to linger through Inazuma’s breeze.
With a last look at you, the detective’s maroon lashes flutter closed too. He hopes, at least for today, he managed to protect precious you from the crimes of cruel sorrow.
He leans his head on top of yours.
The case is solved.
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imthebadguyyy · 3 months
Text
Miss Americana and the Heartbreak Prince II
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pairing : charles leclerc x reader
fandom : f1
synopsis : you're the only female driver on the f1 grid, and have a secret relationship with ferrari's golden boy.
warnings : allusions to smut, smut
a/n : much awaited part 2!! apologies for taking so long life has been extremely busy lately
pt i
"don't say a word" charles mumbled to you, gently getting up.
god, you were so fucked.
you didn't dare say a word as charles wordlessly got up to find the pair of shoes carlos had so unfortunately left behind in his room. "why did he leave them here" charles whispered harshly, while gesturing to the large closet he had in his driver's room.
quiet as a cat you slipped into it, leaving it a crack open for ventilation. you watched from the gap as charles quickly ran a hand through his tousled hair, lips still red and swollen and eyes still blown wide from the orgasm he had a few moments again.
"just a second!" he called to his teammate, struggling to jump into his jeans and searching for his shirt before he realised where it was : on your body.
cursing under his breath, he inhaled deeply, before striding over to open the door for carlos.
"my god man, you took forever to open the door huh" carlos grumbled, sauntering his way into the room before charles could slam the door shut.
praying to the heavens, charles sneaked a jittery glance towards the closet, praying carlos didn't wander too close.
"ah yes! my lucky sneakers!" carlos exclaimed like a child on Christmas day, spotting the pristine white sneakers in the corner of the room.
"how did you leave them here?" Charles asked, hand reaching up to scratch his neck nervously.
"oh remember when we were all warming up before media day because we felt stiff? i left my shoes here and changed into my loafers" he said matter of factly, changing said loafers for his sneakers.
a flash of orange had him stopping mid way, staring blankly at the papaya shirt that lay just hidden below charles' physio table.
"mate, either you're a secret McLaren fan or.." carlos began, wide eyes wandering over to charles who had turned as red as the ferrari car he drove.
"WHAT no-thats not mine!!" he exclaimed.
groaning softly, you smacked your palm against your forehead, realising how much worse he sounded if he said it wasn't his.
"so you're- YOURE SLEEPING WITH LANDO?!" carlos exclaimed and charles let out a groan of despair.
"THATS WHO YOU THINK HES SLEEPING WITH?!" your stupefied voice rang out from the closet, earning a flurry of curse words from the spaniard.
"y/n?!?!" he exclaimed, watching as you stomped out in just a ferrari shirt, batelt covering your thighs,screaming in surprise as he covered his eyes and turned to the wall.
"PUT ON SOME CLOTHES I DON'T NEED TO SEE YOU LIKE THIS!" carlos shouted, as charles ran to cover up your body, tossing you your jeans to change into.
"you thought I was sleeping with lando?" charles hissed, sheer stress and surprise in his eyes.
"no i- i wasn't thinking okay I saw orange and i thought lando!" carlos defended himself, choosing to ignore the contemptuous snort you let out.
when you were all decent he turned again sinking into a chair to massage his temples, repeatedly muttering "dios mio" under his breath and looking between the two of you.
your hands were interlocked now, thumbs gently twiddling together, and he watched as charles reached for your palms, running a soothing thumb over your knuckles and holding your hand tightly within his. he noticed how charles' gaze softened and the gentility with which he stroked your hand, nothing but love and adoration in his eyes.
"so how long has this been going on?" carlos asked calmly, trying to ignore the mix of excitement and amusement in his chest at the sight of his best friend and the woman he considered to be his little sister anxiously awaiting his take like a teenage couple who got caught.
"um...abu dhabi last year? i got really drunk and so did charles and we just sort of stumbled into my hotel room and-" you began only to be cut off by a loud "tut-tut-tut-tut" from carlos who closed his eyes.
"i don't need details, hermana, just...okay" he sighed, standing up.
"carlos, please don't tell anyone" charles whispered tugging you closer. "Its hard enough for her to be accepted anyway and if people find our we're together, you know what the media is going to spin it into. we're just not ready yet" he concluded softly, feeling you cuddle into him, apprehension evident in your eyes.
"ay, of course I would not do that. you can trust me. I'm happy that youre happy with each other, you are aren't you?" he questioned suddenly, eyes hardening as he looked at charles.
"yes yes, im very happy carlos" you said quickly, knowing he was protective of you.
"charles makes me happier than i thought I could be" you mumbled, cheeks warming as you spoke, and charles pressed a kiss to your temple. "And she makes me happier than I ever thought i could be" he affirmed.
"well then, I'm even happier for you two. you deserve to be happy, and I'm glad it's her you're seeing and not lando" he concluded matter of factly, and you couldn't help but snort with laughter.
"thanks mate" charles chuckled dryly.
"okay I'm gonna leave but please charles, do something about your sex hair, you look like a wild hyena just tried to rip your hair off" he grumbled as you grinned proudly.
"well i suppose we do fu-" charles began cheekily as carlos yelled in protest and covered his ears, shaking his head from side to like a dog trying to get water out of his ears.
"no necesito saber detalles sobre el relacions intimas, ella es como mi hermana menor, ¿verdad?!" no I don't need to know the details about the sex she's like my younger sister!! carlos exclaimed as he sprinted out of the room.
taking a deep breath, your eyes met charles, and in a split second, you both burst into laughter, clutching onto each other to keep steady as you laughed.
"well, that was something" you chuckled, sitting back down on the physio table.
"it really was, non?" he said, joining you, pressing a kiss to your neck.
"i have to go back to McLaren now baby" you whispered, gently stroking the rough stubble on his cheek.
"i know" he mumbled against the skin of your neck. "ill see you at the gdpa meeting okay?" you whispered, pressing him a kiss goodbye as you reached for the McLaren shirt to swap for the scandalous ferrari one you were wearing.
with sweet kisses of goodbye,you dashed off towards the McLaren hospitality.
Jogging back hurriedly, you shielded your eyes from the blaring Barcelona sun, praying that you wouldn’t get in trouble from charlotte.
*:・゚✧*:・゚✧*:・゚✧*:・゚✧*:・゚✧*:・゚✧
silverstone as a track was simply iconic.
as many had famously said, everyone wanted a chance to step on the podium there, the birthplace of formula one.
because of lando, McLaren always had a tiny bit of extra pressure on them during the British gp, and this year was no different.
Britain brought with it grey skies, heavy rainclouds and smatterings of rain through free practice and qualis. the track was wet, the skies were gloomy, and boomrd with thunder but the energy around the track was electric. (no pun intended)
the fans at silverstone always brought their all and the weather was never a let down for them. as you stood in the garage, waiting for the skies to clear up a little, you glanced at the crowd, cheering and whooping for lewis, lando and george, and were surprised to see the many posters of your face, cheering you on.
waving at the fans with a quick smile, you turned back to the screen, brow furrowing as you watched the forecast predict even heavier rainfall for quali.
before you knew it, you were in q3, hot on max's trail for a pole position. your race engineer, elizabeth, urged you to speed up, tyres well maintained and checo 4.5 behind.
and so you pushed, putting in purple sector after sector, and when it came to it, beat max by one hundredth.
a shout of delight left your lips as you entered parc ferme, parking your car in the no1 spot and preparing for your pole tyre and interview. max offered you a tight lipped smile, making a quip about "i was on a pole streak!" to which you responded cheekily, "well looks like i took the fast lane to your frustration!"
after quali, you were drawn into meetings, last minute checks, interviews until finally, you relaxed in the hospitality with lando, sneakers off and feet resting on a puffy pouffe, a bowl of salad and an iced latte next to you.
lando had something similar, a burrito bowl and an orange juice, scrolling through his Instragram while you covered your eyes and hummed a song.
"darl, are you dating anyone?" he asked casually, crossing one ankle over the other as he spoke.
"no, why?" you asked, brow furrowing slightly as you lied through your teeth.
lando went an odd shade of splotchy red as he looked at you, taking in the curve of your cupids bow above your lip, furrowed in confusion, to the purse of your lips.
"w-well, i've got a mate yeah, and he'd really like to ask you out, but he doesn't know how to quite...do that y'know?" he stumbled out, hands scratching the back of his neck as he spoke.
"oh!" you said, shoulders relaxing as you smiled.
"im not really looking to date someone right now lan, please tell him that and give him a hug from me okay?" you said kindly, squeezing his knees before jumping off the couch to head home.
"I'll see ya tomorrow lan!" you said, waving goodbye and picking up your food as you left.
walking towards your car, you felt your phone buzz in your pocket, and pulling it out, you saw charles notification.
(ferrari's) amore ♥️
amour, are you done with all your meetings?
y/n
yes darling, im just heading out to my car.
(ferrari's) amore ♥️
come to my room when youre back. i miss you :(
y/n
I'll be right there mon bebe, i miss you too 😙
you couldn't help but giggle at his messages, climbing into your car before making your way to the hotel.
as soon as you reached and managed to make your way past the gaggle of fans, you made your way to charles' room, cap covering your face as you moved stealthily through the hall.
reaching his door, you knocked softly, foot tapping against the carpeted floor, listening for the click of the door lock.
and lo and behold, there stood your italian god of a boyfriend, clad in just a pair of turquoise shorts and a bandana holding his curly locks back from his face, a stray strand peaking out almost cheekily.
"hello you" you smiled, squealing when he grabbed your plush hips and pulled you into him, arms tightening around your shoulders as he kissed your forehead, closing the door behind the both of you.
he walked backwards, guiding you into his dimly lit suite, pulling your jacket off of you and letting it drop onto the couch.
"missed you amour" he crooned softly, pecking your temple as he pulled the both of you into the large bed, laden with pillows and thick snowy white blankets, letting your body sink into the mattress.
"missed you too baby" you murmured.
"how was your day?" he asked, sliding down your body to tug your sneakers off, pressing a delicate kiss to your ankle as he pulled the socks off too, before trailing up to the McLaren t shirt you had on, signalling for you to raise your arms so he could tug it off your body, pressing feather soft kisses to your belly, chest, arms, shoulders and finally your cheeks.
"t'was alright i guess, quali was really great!" you gushed, fingers carding through his hair as a dimpled smile graced his cheeks.
"m'so proud baby" he said, kissing an erratic pattern on the bare expanse of your belly. "love you" you gushed again, tone utterly lovestruck, words coming out thick and syrupy.
charles gave you an equally lovestruck look, an ooey gooey warm sensation filling his chest.
"lemme show you how proud I am of you bebè" he whispered, pressing hot, open mouthed kisses to your neck, body twisting above yours to curve into you.
charles' mouth was diligent on your neck, his lips parted and wet as he worked way up from a particularly sensitive spot on your neck up to the back of your ears, smothering you with hot, open mouthed kisses that had you squirming underneath him. your whole body felt like it was being slowly swallowed by a burning flame, lighting up sharply when when his tongue swept over your skin, followed quickly by a not-so-gentle scraping of his teeth.
you gasped, fingers curling tighter into the thick locks, not caring about how hard you were tugging the luscious strands, legs parting when he let out a soft growl against your skin, the sound reverberating in his chest.
"baby.." you whispered, as his hands slipped to unbutton your jeans, slowly tugging the material down your thighs, hands massaging the fat of your hips and thighs, pinching softly before soothing it with a velveteen caress.
"hush mon amour, let me take care of you" he murmured, mouth hot as it disappeared lower until he was cocooned in between your thighs.
his sea green eyes locked onto yours, as his mouth lowered onto your panties, a wet spot spreading like spilled ink on delicate paper, that had him salivating like a dog.
you closed your eyes, pleasure taking over every nerve in your body when he pressed a kiss to the drenched fabric.
what a night you were in for.
*:・゚✧*:・゚✧*:・゚✧*:・゚✧*:・゚✧*:・゚✧
you wake up early, the sun is just rising above the horizon, casting an almost pastel glow in the room from the wide windows. you're supposed to reach the track in an hour, so you have to leave in about 30 minutes. charles however, the lucky bastard, gets to sleep in. he isn't due at the track till almost two hours after you.
grumbling, you stepped out of bed, searching for the sleep shorts charles had kept on the couch for you to slip into in the morning, mourning the loss of his warmth as you get ready in the bathroom, taking out your toothbrush, a hairbrush, your skincare, your makeup, peeking through the half-open door to see him fast asleep in bed, bare arm stretched out over your empty side, quite snores leaving his mouth, a soft pout on his lips. you took in the red marks littering his chest, now fading to a subtler maroon, and the indents of your fingerprints on his back, heat rising to your cheeks in soft pinpricks.
the sight leaves a dull ache blooming in your belly, a need to just go and cuddle with his forever filling every bone in your body. with a sigh, you turn back to the mirror, somehow managing to get through your makeup and your hair before you allow yourself to look at charles again
with a furrowed brow, you note that he’s not in bed anymore.
you almost jumped out of your skin when you notice him standing in the doorway of the bathroom, clad in literally nothing.
charles didn’t say anything, only getting his arms around you in a warm, soft hug,one arm circling around your back to hold your waist, the other bent over the top of your back to cup your head in his hand.
his feet shuffled into the bathroom, head dropping onto the dip in your shoulders, arms wrapped tight around your midriff. his hands splayed on your belly, and he pressed a delicate kiss to the back of your neck. "go back to bed honey" you said, squeezing his hand and smiling at his sleepy face in the mirror.
"mmmhm" was all you got in response, the warmth from his body enveloping you in a snug embrace.
"why do you have to go so early?" he groaned, head nuzzling into you like a cat. chuckling softly, you swipe a berry lipgloss over your lips, adjusting the white floral sundress you had opted for, carrying your team kit in a bag.
"cuz we're shit babe. and if I want to win this race, we need to get some work done off track before we start actual racing" you said, petting him on the head like a kitten.
"ill see you soon then coucou" he said, pressing a kiss to your head before collapsing back into bed.
shaking your head you laughed quietly, slipping out of the room and heading to find gemma, your trainer bringing you a bowl of chocolate oats and dragonfruit and berries to munch on.
"busy night?" she smirked and you stuck your tongue out at her.
"let's just go" you said, pecking her cheek as thanks for the food.
*:・゚✧*:・゚✧*:・゚✧*:・゚✧*:・゚✧*:・゚✧
the track was buzzing with the usual hustle bustle, and charles was making his way towards parc ferme to get ready for drivers parade, which was going to be a vintage car display for each team. he caught sight of you, standing with lance and esteban, chatting animatedly about something.
he was standing with max, lando, carlos, checo, george and alex, all happily discussing their plans for the summer break.
he felt a blush rise to his cheeks as he watched you greet lewis with a hug and then laugh as he showed you something on his phone.
he felt his heart flutter when you bit your lip to conceal a grin when toto and christian glared at each other like schoolchildren.
he felt his breath hitch when you twirled a strand of hair around your fingers, exposing the bare skin of your neck where, if he squinted hard enough, he could make out the pale remains of the hickeys he had sucked into the skin.
"you alright mate? max asked, watching the way charles had turned a splotchy red.
"yeah I'm fine" he said, offering him a weak grin.
"you sure?" lando joked, grinning widely at him.
"who are you looking at?" max enquired, peering over charles shoulder to analyse who he was looking at.
"was it maria?" checo asked, referring to one of ferrari's press officer who had stunning red hair and beautiful emerald eyes.
"no no" charles said, shutting the idea down quickly, silently turning to carlos for help.
"leave him alone guys, he was probably just drooling over the track" carlos said, nudging max with his foot.
"yeah, right. don't think we haven't noticed how dreamy you've been recently" lando teased, while carlos and alex offered charles sympathetic smiles.
"it's nothing" he said, voice almost clipped.
"okay, let's leave him alone" alex said, clapping him on the back.
he watched as you skipped over, hair bouncing as you did. "hello!" you greeted chirpily, settling into a spot beside alex and carlos.
a chorus of hellos and grins greeted you. "what's going on?" you asked, cocking your head to one side.
"charles has a crush" lando teased again.
"oh is it?" you asked, concealing a smirk as you locked eyes with the man, eyes glimmering with mischief.
"yes it is!" george said, grinning widely.
"who is it?" you asked innocently, batting your eyelashes at him, watching the crease form in his eyebrow.
"no one" he said, hands slipping into his pockets while carlos sent you an exasperated look.
"oh c'mon tell us something about her" you giggled, hand tracing up to linger on the spot where he had left a bite, bringing a blush to his cheeks.
he watched the teasing glint in your eyes and with new resolve, relaxed.
"well," he began, eyes locked directly onto yours. "shes the most exquisite woman I've ever had the pleasure of knowing" he said, eyes boring into yours.
the chorus of 'oohs' around you didn't register, as you listened intently, heart hammering in your chest.
"she's insanely beautiful, but also has a heart of gold. shes kind, caring, smart, talented and extremely passionate" he continued, listing the qualities on his fingers, ignoring the smirks from his friends, focusing only on the widening of your eyes, and the way your hands fiddled with your rings.
"she's sassy, and isn't afraid to speak her mind. shes always thinking about others and is an angel on earth. she's as beautiful as a setting sun casting shadows on a deep ocean, as beautiful as victory, silent and strong, as beautiful as a graceful ballet, as beautiful as laughter ringing clear in the mountains" he continued, noting the way your eyes has become overbright, while also noting carlos' gaze on him.
"wow mate, you're down bad" alex commented, smiling at his friend, while max and lando sported identical grins. "yeah, never heard you be so poetic before" george commented, before turning to you. "isn't that right speedy?" he asked, waiting for your response.
clearing your throat softly, you nodded. "yeah, she's one lucky gal isn't she" you said, a wide smile on your face.
"time to go!" came a shout, startling you out of your little lovedaze.
"be right there!" lando shouted back, grabbing your arm, but you stopped him, murmuring a soft "I'll be right there" as you bid everyone a goodbye. one by one they all trickled out, carlos squeezing your shoulder kindly.
you gave charles a quick hug, tensing slightly when he pressed a quick kiss to your head away from the prying cameras.
"I love you" he whispered so quietly you almost missed it, and you repeated it, before giving him another lovestruck grin, before sprinting off to join lando.
charles stood there for a second, the same ooey gooey warm sensation filling his chest, before he was snapped back to reality by sylvia calling his name and he too sprinted back.
as you and lando followed redbull, mercedes, and ferrari, he turned to fix his gaze upon you.
"charles seems really in love doesn't he?" he asked, eyes fixated on you to gauge your reaction.
"he really does" you said, concealing a smile.
"how do you feel about that?" he asked, a strange abruptness in his tone.
"what do ya mean lan?" you asked, eyebrow quirking.
"I mean, you had a massive crush on him back when we were younger" he said, and you gaped at him, rendered momentarily speechless.
"um.." you trailed off, turning away from his burning gaze to wave at the crowds with a fake smile. "it doesn't bother me" you said finally, not really lying because how could you be bothered.
"are you sure?" he asked again, an odd tenseness to his voice. "yes I'm sure" you said firmly. "it's just..." he trailed off, unable to vocalise this thoughts.
"what, lan?" you asked, still waving at the crowds, putting up a peace sign for the crowds.
"you've seemed a little off lately...even when I brought up the thing about you dating a friend of mine, you kind of clammed up and i got the feeling that.." "got the feeling that?" you questioned, unease bubbling in your chest.
"that maybe there was a 5.4% chance that you were the girl charles was into" he finished and you almost fell off the seat of your car.
"w-what?" you laughed nervously, tucking a stray strand of hair behind your ear. landos gaze didn't falter.
"look, I'm not stupid. I see the way he looks at you sometimes. and I see the way you look at him. but if you're not the girl he's dating, i want you to not be hurt because you're one of my best friends" he said, giving your hand a quick squeeze.
you felt a blossom of affection for your friend bloom in your chest. taking a deep breath, you made a hasty decision.
"lando, what I'm going to tell you is an absolutely top level secret and if you tell anyone I will chop your dick off and feed it to a duck" you said solemnly, ignoring the high pitched chuckle that left his mouth.
"okay i pinky swear" he said, sticking out his pinky towards you. you interlocked yours with his briefly, before taking a deep breath.
"I am charles new girlfriend" you admitted softly, eyes fixed on the ground in apprehension. you almost had a heart attack when he whooped so loudly, you were about a 100% sure that the cars in front of you and behind you would've heard you.
"shush!" you scolded, head whipping back and forth to see if anyone heard. "I fucking knew it! i absolutely knew it, the way he looks at you and the lovestruck puppy face he makes my god i KNEW it" he laughed gleefully, shaking you by the shoulders.
"okay shut up lando but please don't tell anyone" you begged, trying to hide the grin on your face.
"I promised i won't. but I have so many questions!!" he said excitedly, squeezing your hand. you laughed, glancing over to the front where charles was waving happily at the crowds.
"how about you meet us for dinner tonight, and I'll tell you more about it then?" you said, and he nodded excitedly. "we can call carlos too" you said, "since he knows about us as well".
lando let out a dramatic gasp, hand pressed over his chest. "CARLOS KNEW BEFORE ME?!?!" he said, eyes widening almost conically.
"by accident you dipshit, he walked in on us..um...well, actually! funny story, he actually thought it was you charles was sleeping with" you said with a cheeky smile, rolling your eyes with no real malice when he pretended to gag and throw up.
"why?!?!" "because he saw a McLaren t shirt on the floor" you admitted. lando pretended to gag again. "please spare me the details of your sex life" he groaned, hand still pressed to his chest.
"oh really, cuz I was just going to go into details about how good he fuck-" you began cheekily and he squealed and slammed his hand over your mouth (gently)
you let out a cackle, giving him a friendly hug, before turning your full attention to the stands.
*:・゚✧*:・゚✧*:・゚✧*:・゚✧*:・゚✧*:・゚✧
the race was tough, rain showering down halfway, making the track slippery and grip a challenge, but somehow, you fought and maintained your position.
there was a tense moment when max had overtaken you rather roughly, making you drop to p3 with a 3 second gap between you, and perez and a 5 second gap to you and max. however, with some spectacular over taking and flawless defending, you had soared to victory, with max in p2, and to your surprise, carlos in p3.
the podium had been a blast, with carlos pouring champagne down your entire body and hair, and lifting you up to hoist you on the top of his shoulders.
it had made for a lovely picture of you laughing, champagne bottle in hand, and a smiling carlos pointing up to you, while andreas 'bowed' down to you.
mclaren mechanics and engineers and staff had cheered for you, with charles and lando watching proudly and clapping for the both of you.
lando had given charles a nudge, before whispering a soft "she told me buddy" and giving him a tight one armed hug and whispering, "dont you fucking hurt her Leclerc or like your girlfriend said, I'll chop your dick off and feed it to a duck" making him laugh in alarm, before smiling softly at him.
dripping in a mix of sweat and champagne, you walked off into the McLaren hospitality, hugging everyone around you, before going straight into your driver's room to change.
a quick shower and a change of clothes later you felt fresh and giddy with excitement, so when lando sent a text in your shared group, saying "club inferno to get absolutely hammered on me, half an hour, look sexy y'all" you had laughed and made your way to your hotel to get dressed.
you hadnt been able to contact charles or heard from him after the podium but decided that you'd just meet him at the club, so you changed into a particularly rivetingly sexy little dress you had bought especially for a moment like this, a strappy little number that hugged every curve and fold on your body.
you paired it with your favourite YSL libre perfume, painting your lips in a dior rouge lipstick charles had gifted her, swiping a glittery lip gloss on top, adding seductive black eyeliner and mascara, a rosy blush and a glittery highlight, and darkened your eyes with kohl.
you slipped on a pair of black rhinestone heels, with little diamond bows on them that just looked absolutely phenomenal on you.
with a sigh of satisfaction, you sent a quick text to gemma, telling her you were ready to be picked up so the both of you could get absolutely wrecked on lando's tab.
she was not complaining.
the dark club was pulsating with heavy beats, bodies swayed in harmony with sultry beats on the dance floor, bathed in hues of electric blue and crimson. the air buzzed with the intoxicating blend of thumping music, the intoxicated giggles of every individual in the club, the mingling scents of tequila, fruity cocktails, earthy whiskeys, bitter beers.
gemma whooped as you walked in, the energy palpable in her body as she flailed her arms wildly with the music.
"im gonna go order some shots!" you shouted, rushing to the bar immediately. you were intercepted by a very drunk Pierre, who congratulated you with a hug and promise to buy you shots.
you were further intercepted by carlos, who, despite looking ready to pass out still had impeccable hair and was about the down another shot of tequila.
"shots on me hermosa!" he said, passing you a shot of tequila and a lemon with salt.
in your excitement, you missed charles, clad in a black shirt and white linen pants, watching you giggle and reach for the lemon. he watched as you put the salt on the back of your wrist, licking it up, tongue sweeping along the skin, and then dousing the shot of tequila, exposing the skin of your neck, and drowning the shot, only to flick back into position and suck on the lime.
he licked his lips, feeling the groin region of his pants become uncomfortably tight.
he made his way over to you, the thumping beat of travis scott's fein filling his eardrums. he watched as you leaned over to the barman, breasts pushing up against your dress, ordering shots, pushing your hair back over your shoulder. he walked with cemented purpose, as the beat changed, turning more sultry.
you were leaning over the bar when a familiar scent of dior sauvage filled your nostrils, and a strong pair of arms wrapped around your midriff.
"baby!" you squealed, leaping into his arms, lips pressing messily against his, momentarily forgetting about the secrecy of your relationship. charles savoured it, tilting your chin to kiss you deeper, counting on the barely there lighting to hide the two of you.
you downed another shot with him, pulling him towards the dance floor before stepping back softly. you pushed your hair away from your chest so it fell down your back, hips swaying as the seductive beat of vixen by miguel filled the club, the rnb vocals adding depth to the sensual rhythm your body was following, hands running up and down your body as you swayed your hips in a pulsating rhythm, bending at the knees as you sunk to the floor, wining your hips as the chorus came on.
charles ignored the fact that literally anyone could see you right there, as he stepped towards you, hands on your hips as he pulled you flush against his body, hips grinding rhythmically with your own.
you let out a soft moan,turning so your back was pressed against his crotch. you let your head drop to his shoulder, bum pressing against his crotch and wining softly against him, feeling his breath hitch.
"fuck, mon amour, you're making it hard for me to not fuck you right here right now" he groaned.
"you know as much as I like dancing and clubbing" you murmured, fingers dancing across his thighs, "I think id much rather prefer to celebrate at home with my baby" you continued, letting your teeth sink into your plush bottom lip.
"thats it" he growled, hand grabbing yours and tugging you along, making his way into the park to his car.
"im gonna fuck you like the winner you are" he whispered, kissing the shell of your ear.
your hotel room was on the 16th floor, and as the two of you made your way into the elevator, he eyed you up and down, eyes lingering on the curve of your breasts.
the moment the door shut, he pushed you against the wall, capturing your lips in a steamy kiss you'd be remembering the next day. his hands moved to your ass, squeezing hard, eliciting a moan from your lips. the moment your lips parted, he was pushing his tongue into yours, his other hand coming up to pull on your hair roughly, relishing in the gasp that left your lips. as suddenly as he started, he stopped, pulling back and standing almost nonchalantly against the wall.
you stumbled forward on weak legs, trying to wrap your head around what happened, gripping the wall with whatever remaining resolve you had in your body.
you could feel your wetness dripping, threatening to run down your thighs, as the throbbing became even more painfully exciting. you looked down at the floor, eyes closing as your frustration grew more and more by the second.
finally, with a little 'ding', the elevator stopped at the 16th floor. the moment the door opened you stepped out on wobbly legs, trying your best to walk properly.
but of course, that wasn't going to happen. as you turned one long corridor, charles grabbed your waist, pushing you up against the wall, to reach down and suck on your neck. you let out a gasp, head falling back against the door, and let your pussy rub against his hardening cock, but charles retaliated with a slap to your ass, smirking when a high pitched moan left your lips.
he let the door swing open, carrying you inside, letting you drop down, and kick off your heels, chest heaving. he made his way towards you, unbuttoning his shirt and letting it fall to the floor.
"such a fucking sexy drive, the way you defended and fought like a beast on track" he said, stalking towards you, hands dropping to the straps of your dress, tugging it downwards. "ma belle fille" he murmured, lips trailing hot kisses to your neck and sucking dark hickies on it. his tongue swept out, licking repeatedly over the sensitive spot, sucking and nibbling on the sensitive skin, teeth nipping and leaving dark marks.
he pressed open mouthed kisses that seemed scorching, while his hands dropped lower, peeling the satiny material off of your body, groaning when it peeled off to reveal your breasts, heaving with tension and arousal, nipples hardening as the cold air touched them.
"were gonna do something special baby" he said, sucking the skin of your neck in between his teeth, before pulling away with a smacking sound.
he walked backwards towards where there was a bottle of dom perigon in ice, popping the cork, letting it fizz down. he walked over to you, taking a dull sip of the liquid.
he motioned to the bed, and you followed silently, laying down, resting on your forearms.
he walked over to you, hands slipping to your tits, tugging on your nipples and running his thumb over them. he watched your breath hitch and your body quake as he played with your nipples, other hand reaching up to grab your cheeks and force your mouth open.
he kissed you harshly, lips closed to keep the champagne in, before his thumb and forefinger dug into your cheeks, forcing your mouth open.
you shuddered as he leaned over, breath fanning over your face as he let the golden liquid pour from his mouth into yours, warm and delicious as it overflowed from your mouth, dribbling down your chin.
you gasped as you swallowed the burning in your throat.
he pushed you gently, body laying against the linen. he pressed another searing kiss to your lips, biting at the plush bottom lip, sucking it in between his own.
he kissed you harder, yanking the rest of your dress off of your body, dropping it to the floor.
he leaned down, sucking hickeys onto every bare expanse of your chest, sucking dark marks, teeth nipping, breathing harshly, tongue licking over the expanse of skin.
he trailed lower, mouthing over your breasts, sucking on the nipple of one while his fingers toyed with the other, tongue flicking harshly and sucking harshly, feeling you arch into him. his tongue flicked wildly against the bud, before treating the other one the same, groping and grabbing till he felt they were marked enough.
he sunk lower, pressing kisses to your belly and sinking till the gap between your thighs,before reaching up again. you watched with bated breath as he grabbed the bottle again, tipping it over so it flowed into your belly and pooled into your belly button. he let his tongue dip in, sucking up the champagne, and making you moan at the sight.
he tipped it up towards your mouth again, letting you have a swig of champagne, licking up the beads that dripped down your chin.
"so fucking delicious, have to taste the rest of you" he murmured. "ma belle fille, mon amour" he whispered, leaning down to his thighs, pressing kisses to your thighs, all the way till your ankles, letting it rest on top of his shoulder as he leaned up.
he pressed kisses all the way till he reached your pussy, clad in black lacy panties. he inhaled the scent deeply, a sight that brought a sob to your throat.
"fuck please baby, I need your tongue in me" you sobbed, a strangled wail leaving your lips when his tongue sucked over the lady barrier through the arousal seeping out.
he licked and sucked till the material was drenched, fingers tracing up and down your thighs gently, making goosebumps erupt on your skin.
he hooked his fingers into your panties, tugging it down, leaving your pussy quivering when the cool air came into contact with your pussy.
charles reached for the bottle again, tipping the bottle just a little so it dripped a tiny sprinkle of champagne down your thighs. he licked it up, hands gripping into your thighs.
and then, his fingers were spreading you open, moaning as he saw your pussy lips struggle to seperate as your sticky arousal clung like a golden thread. he broke it with his fingers swirling it into his tongue, moaning at the taste.
"you taste sweeter than honey, bebe" he whispered, moaning into your pussy. his tongue licked up the expanse of your pussy, flicking erratically against your clit, licking all around the engorged, throbbing bud, before he began to suck on it with fervour. he bent your legs are an angle, so he had better access to your pussy, his head resting temporarily on your thigh, and drank up the sounds of you moaning and whimpering above him.
above him, you were moaning and whining his name, letting out a squeal when he started licking his initials onto your clit, tracing a curved c and an elongated l.
"please please please" you chanted, overcome with pleasure.
his finger slipped into your fluttering hole, thumb helping as he sucked on your clit, the overwhelming sensations sending you ricocheting towards a high.
"baby baby please im gonna fucking cum" you screamed, hips bucking wildly against his mouth as he continued to suck and lick at your pussy.
and just as you thought the pleasure was at its peak, he began to shake his head in your pussy, the erratic movement bringing an even more intense onslaught of pleasure onto your pussy. "oh fuck charles" you screamed, thighs quaking and head falling back in pleasure as you came violently, cum squirting from your pussy that he lapped up like amortentia.
but to your pleasure, he didn't stop there. he kept sucking, with more vigour and more intensity, slurping from your pussy like it was the most delicious thing in the world, moaning and groaning into your clit, sloppy and messy but oh how fucking good it felt
"cum for me, let me taste you again mon gagnant" (my winner) he murmured, the vibrations sending you over the edge again.
you came with a cry against tears dripping against you cheek.
panting, charles crawled his way back up your body, kissing your lips and gently wiping away the tears, pressing saccharine sweet kisses to your red cheeks, tracing the puff of the muscle with his pinky and pressing kisses to every corner of your face as you calmed down, whispering sweet whispers of "my sweet girl, my angel, my baby, my heart" like a mantra in french.
"baby please I need your cock" you sobbed, hands gripping onto his back, wrapping around his neck, nose reddening and eyes teary as you looked at him.
"you want my cock, mon coeur?" he cooked, voice syrupy sweet and sticky, tracing soothing circles on your thigh.
you only blubbered a yes in response, watching him cup his cock, getting it ready for your throbbing pussy as he spread his pre cum around it, body still pressed warmly against yours, pressing sweet kisses to your shoulders.
he lined up with your entrance, watching as you let out a shaky breath, eyes falling shut, as you clenched in anticipation. "my sweet angel drove so spectacularly, she deserves the world, doesn't she?" he cooed again, pushing a sweaty strand of hair away from your face.
"please baby, i think I do" you whined, swollen lips curling into a pout. "of course you do, mon chat" he murmured, lips pressed to your hairline, before slowly, in a single thrust, he had slotted himself inside you.
you gasped, gummy walls stretching to accomodate his cock. "fuck!" you whined, back arching off of the bed to meet his chest.
fuck, mon coeur, tellement serre" he groaned (so tight), hand interlocking with your own, fingers interlacing, the feeling adding such an addictive homeliness to the passinate moment.
his hips thrusted slowly, steadily, deeply, hitting spots that had you seeing stars. your hands clung to his back, nails raking down, tearing the skin, and you hear him hiss and moan at the sensation, hand squeezing you're tighter.
"I love you!" you sobbed out, when he raised your hips to grab onto your leg, pushing it away towards your head, and wrapping the other one around his waist, the new angle allowing him to fuck you even deeper into the mattress. his fingers dropped to your clit again, circling, rubbing roughly, even pinching softly enough to leave your body jolting, lips dropping back to your nipples to suck on them.
"je t'aime ma jolie" he moaned out, head dropping into the crook of your neck as his thrusts increased in pace, and the room echoed with the lewd squelches, groans and moans, pants and whines, as you clung to him tighter.
"charles m gonna cum" you whined, eyes rolling to the back of your head as charles sunk his teeth into the juncture between your neck and shoulder.
"cum for me" he growled, and with a cry, you came undone for the third time that night. thighs shaking, breath quaking, your squirted over his cock, soaking the bedding and his thighs as it dripped everywhere, and the mere sight was enough to make charles cum, shooting his cum into your, watching it drip out of your pussy.
panting, he rolled off of you, pulling you into his chest as you both lay on the bed, completely winded and tuckered out.
your chest heaved and breath came out laboured as you came down from your high. charles peppered kisses on your face, kissing your nose, chin, cheeks, lips, forehead and your eyes softly, drawing soothing circles over your heart to help you calm down.
"did so good for me, ma cherie" he cooed, syrupy and sweet like honey. "I'll be right back amour" he said, pressing a kiss to your hairline, to disappear into the bathroom.
you heard the tap running and he returned with a warm soaked towel, cleaning up between your thighs and all the way up your body, letting you cool down after the passionate session. he peppered kisses to every spot he cleaned, pulling your hair into a delicate ponytail.
he cleaned himself up and joined you in bed again, holding up your back as he made you take small sips of cold water, ordering room service for a good pasta for you two, and a chocolate mousse.
"I love you so much" you mumbled, pressing a kiss to his chest. "i love you more" he said, a soft smile on his face.
"im so lucky to have you in my life" he confessed, taking in your sleepy face and the slow pattern of your breathing. "you make everyday a hundred times more beautiful, when I'm with you, the sun moon and stars don't compare" he continued his poetic confession.
"you make me feel like the luckiest woman in the world by letting me love you" you said,voice cracking as you looked at his form, so beautiful, so sweet, so loving.
your peaceful moment of tranquility was broken by a series frantic beeps from both your phones.
raising an eyebrow, you let your head drop to charles' chest while he reached for your phone.
his eyes widened, fear creeping into them as he sat up abruptly.
"fuck" he cursed, carding a hand through his hair, turning to look at you, an odd look of fear in his face.
"what's wrong?" you asked, dread rising in your chest like an ice cold steam, fearing the very worst.
in response he just showed you his phone.
there, on instagram and twitter, were a series of dark, blurry, pixellated picture of a man and woman in a club, hands all on each other, and a very telling video of the woman grinding her body seductively against the man.
you and charles.
*:・゚✧*:・゚✧*:・゚✧*:・゚✧*:・゚✧*:・゚✧
a/n : part two!! might make a part three or might just....leave it here 👀 as always likes comments reblogs opinions are appreciated!! always down to make new friends and do let me know what you think! happy reading and much love always 🩷
TAGS
charles :@chanshintien @eternalharry @janeholt3 @magicalcowboyarbiter @oneafterdark @leclerc13 @crlsummer @electrobutterfly @superlegend216 (f1) @formula1mount @f1lov3r @livsters @inkfablesandstories @ivegotparticulartaste (all f1) @moon-enthusiast (all f1 @ssararuffoni @dark-night-sky-99
also tagging those who responded to this series!
@tempo-rary-fix @marymustdie @p4st3lst4rs @thesstuff @lauralarsen @notleclerc @dreamcarsound @dhe3read3 @urfavnoirette
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slu7formen · 3 months
Text
Luke will find any excuse to be next to you, even if it’s risky for your secret situation.
slu7formen’s masterlist | luke castellan masterlist
The sun beat down on Camp Half-Blood with the fury of a thousand fires, turning the asphalt paths into giant grills for slow feet and baking the cabins insides like ovens. Chiron, being the smart centaur he is and reading the campers tired and sweaty faces like a book, declared a day off. Now the beach, usually a chill place to be at, was now a scene of joyous chaos. Laughter and shrieks echoed through the air as campers splashed, sunbathed, and competed on swimming races.
Luke, however, walked in much later, his usual smirk plastered on his face. As he approached his spot that he shared with his friends at the top of a large rock, he found his friends sprawled like a pack of sardines, their bodies glistening with water and their eyes glued to the opposite side.
“What´s so interesting over there?” he asked as he placed his own towel and belongings on his spot, right at the edge of the rock.
"Interesting?" Travis Stoll drawled, his voice breaking. "That´s not-, that doesn´t even cover it. It's like the goddess of beauty herself decided to show us how perfect her daughters are"
"Goddesses, Luke" Connor Stoll sighed dramatically, almost drooling as he didn´t even turned his head towards his friend. "Actual goddesses descended from Olympus”
Luke followed their gazes, his smirk widening as he saw the object of their collective obsession. Across the shimmering expanse of the water, a group of Aphrodite's daughters had claimed their own little oasis down on the sand. They lay draped on plush towels like exotic flowers basking in the sun, their designer sunglasses reflecting the harsh glare.
Pink bikinis, strategically revealing hidden curves and glimpses of sun-kissed skin that whispered tan lines just waiting to be discovered. Satisfied sighs escaped their lips as they surrendered to the heat, their bodies molding to the soft embrace of the towels like warm clay. Their laughter, light and airy, drifted across the water, punctuated by the clinking of ice against glass as they sipped chilled fruit juice. Perfect, rounded cherry red lips, glossed with a hint of shimmering pink, seemed to hum a silent song of invitation to those who stared too long. Lips that begged to be kissed, to taste the sweetness of a handsome camper.
Soft pop music, like a flirty summer breeze, carried the melody of carefree days and endless possibilities. The air crackled with a tension as subtle as the scent of sunscreen and coconut oil that easily reached the boys´s nostrils.
"Pink" Travis groaned, his voice thick with mock despair. "Why is everything so pink?"
Chris Rodriguez, his eyes glued to the scene across the beach, barely registered his friend's complaint. "Shh, dude, you´re interrupting"
Luke, however, couldn't help but chuckle at his friend´s dramatic comments. He scanned the scene for a second before taking a seat on his towel – the plush towels, the designer sunglasses, the perfectly manicured nails, the hair shimmering with highlights. It was a picture straight out of a beauty magazine, for sure, but it was starting to feel suffocating.
"Do you think they ever breathe?" Connor whispered.
"Doubt it" Travis chimed in, finally blinking after what felt like hours. "They probably absorb sunlight and flower perfume through their skin"
Chris snorted. "They're daughters of the goddess of beauty and love, what can you expect? They're-…"
He cut himself off, his gaze landing on one figure in particular. A girl with hair the color of spun sunshine and eyes that sparkled like the Mediterranean Sea.
“…Gods, look at that hair”
"Guys, calm down" Luke said, despite the grin threatening to split his face. "They're just girls.” He pointed out. He would´ve stopped the conversation there if it wasn´t for his friends´s stares right after he stopped talking, all of them sharing that ´Are you kidding?´ look. “Well, okay, maybe incredibly beautiful, impossibly glamorous girls, but still just girls."
"Just girls, huh?" Travis scoffed. "Those are your average looking campers? They look like they bathe in rosewater"
Chris, still mesmerized by the girl with the sun-kissed hair, chimed in, "How do you even begin to approach something like that?"
Luke chuckled, watching their exaggerated reactions with amusement. "It's not that hard, you know," he said, a teasing glint in his eyes. "Maybe if you guys spent less time staring and more time talking, you wouldn't be so intimidated."
The challenge hung in the air, a silent dare for them to prove him wrong. Connor, ever the instigator, jumped on the opportunity.
"Alright, Castellan, if it's so easy for you, do it" he smirked. "Go over there and talk to any one of them, impress them, make them laugh, do whatever you need to do to avoid getting your ass kicked”
His brother chuckled. "Let the man have his delusions, dude. He´s not-“ He stopped mid-sentence, jaw dropping open in a display of cartoonish shock.
Chris, following Travis's gaze, mirrored his friend's expression. They all stared at Luke, their eyes wide with disbelief, as he strolled down the rock towards the group of Aphrodite's daughters with a —questionable— confidence.
"What the hell are you doing?" Connor yelled, his voice squeaking.
Ignoring his friends' stunned shouts, Luke descended the rocky outcrop towards the sand. "Castellan, you madman!" Chris hollered, his voice a mix of shock and admiration. Luke wasn´t nervous, not exactly. More like a mix of excitement and the thrill of pushing boundaries. His gaze focused on the girl that was declared as his target. You.
With your hair long enough to be braided with endless flowers, and eyes that held the sparkle of the brightest diamond, were oblivious to his approach, your attention consumed by adjusting the straps of your pink bikini, a delicate task that showcased the smooth expanse of your shoulders and the tantalizing dip of your back.
He gently placed his hands on your shoulders, the heat radiating from your sun-kissed skin was intoxicating, the delicate scent of coconut oil amplifying his senses. His fingers, strong and calloused, squeezed gently, sending shivers down your spine.
"Hey, princess" he said, his voice low and playful.
You turned around, smile blooming like a summer flower as you met his gaze. "Luke" you greeted, your voice laced with a hint of surprise.
"Mind if I join you?" he asked with gentle charm.
"Of course" you replied, patting the space beside you on the towel. “Thought you were only gonna stare all day”
“Why?” he asked, not exactly trying to play dumb.
“Let´s just say that they´re a little too obvious” one of your sisters said, pointing with her chin towards the other side of the beach, where Travis, Connor and Chris, still stared at the scene with wide eyes and parted lips.
“Yeah, well” Luke started. “The scenery is definitely something" he admitted, his gaze lingering on yours for a beat too long. "But I´m the one interested in company, not just staring"
One of your sisters raised her view from the magazine she was reading, an approval head nod towards your direction.
"Smooth, Castellan" you cooed, unable to hide the pink blush on your cheeks. "Well done”
Your conversation flowed effortlessly, a mix of lighthearted banter and teasing remarks that only you two fully understood. You spoke of your day as your voices dropped to hushed tones when you exchanged details of your recent secret night encounters, and reminisced about stolen kisses exchanged in the quiet corners of the camp.
He then reached for a slice of pineapple.
"Care for some?" he offered, extending a piece of pineapple towards your mouth.
"Thank you" you said, gracefully taking the fruit between your lips, eyes on him the whole time, still shining even under your dark sunglasses. His thumb caught a bit of your lower lip, secretly wishing he could taste your lips right there and then.
You leaned back, savoring the sweetness of the pineapple and the stolen touch of Luke's finger on you. His gaze held yours, along with a red blush creeping up his neck.
Across the beach, right on the other corner over a hot rock, the Stoll brothers and Chris remained frozen in disbelief, practically jaw slacked.
"D-did he just-?" Travis stutered.
"Touch her?" Connor finished, his own voice thick with shock. "Like they´re friends?"
"Friends?" Chris scoffed. "Is that how you think that friends behave? As if they-"
His sentence was cut short as a giggle, light and mesmerizing, drifted across the water. Their eyes darted back to the scene, where Luke and yn were now engaged in what appeared to be a lively conversation. Luke, the now notorious ladies' man and best swordsman, was leaning in close, his hand resting casually on her lower back. yn, the living proof of cabin 10's grace and beauty, was radiating amusement as her fingers made their way to Luke´s curls.
“Well…” Chris began. “He actually doesn't look half bad talking to her."
"Yeah" Connor conceded, his brow furrowed in thought. "But how? Since when do they know each other and get so-, touchy?"
"Maybe they share some extra classes together" Travis offered, a mischievous glint in his eyes. "Like... 'Advanced Flirting Techniques for Demigods' or something."
As the boys focused more about Luke´s flirting technique and less on the girls, your conversation with Luke kept going on and on, still fresh as the fruits you were enjoying, and as exciting as the hot sun crashing into your skin like golden liquid.
"You know," you said, leaving a piece of watermelon back on its place as you whispered, low enough for only you and Luke to hear. "you're not supposed to be here."
Luke tilted his head slightly, feigning innocence. "What do you mean?"
"You're not supposed to be talking to me" you continued, eyes sparkling with mischief. "Not after last night."
A slow grin spread across Luke's face, his eyes twinkling with amusement. He leaned closer, his voice dropping to a husky whisper. "Last night was quite a night, wasn´t it?" he admitted, his breath tickling your ear. "Could you make it better tonight?"
You looked at him with confused eyes. His thumb began to draw circles on your lower back. "Tonight?" you said, feigning innocence. "Do we have plans? I hadn't heard anything about it."
Luke's grin widened. "Well, it´s not like I planned it" he admitted, his voice becoming casual. You knew he has lying, of course he planned it. "But I was hoping you might be interested in meeting again"
"Another meeting, huh?" you repeated, your voice dripping with curiosity. "What kind of meeting are we talking about?"
Luke leaned in closer to your ear. "Does my cabin sound familiar to you?"
Your heart hammered against your ribs, a delicious mix of excitement and apprehension swirling within you. You both knew that sneaking out after curfew was risky, specially into someone else´s cabin, but the thought of spending another stolen night with Luke was simply irresistible.
“That could work” you managed to say. “What else?”
A playful and excited sparkle flickered in his eyes. "Bring something sweet" he whispered, a low rumble emanating from his chest. He momentarily eyed the untouched red strawberries. "Meet me by the west side after everyone's at the campfire. We can enjoy the view and then..." he trailed off, leaving the rest unspoken, his gaze dropping to your lips.
The heat of the sun seemed to intensify, mirroring the warmth rising in your cheeks. "And then?" you prompted, unable to resist teasing him a bit.
"And then," he leaned even closer, his voice barely a breath, "we can continue what we started last night."
Your breath hitched. The memory of his touch, his kisses, sent a wave of desire through you. You knew sneaking out was forbidden, a risk that could lead to serious consequences, but Gods, who cares?
"Alright, big boy" you whispered, a playful smile dancing on your lips before standing up, starting your way into the lake for your own heated situation. “See you later, then"
867 notes · View notes
your-nanas-house · 5 months
Text
Tighter than usual
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◇ Pairing: Stepdad!Jackson Rippner X stepdaughter!Reader
◇ Warnings: smut, cheating, thigh fucking, p in v, Jackson, rough and dark
◇ Summary: Jackson searches satisfaction after a wet dream.
◇ Note: Came up with this idea yesterday and my lovely @mrkdvidal1989 helped me so much! Another amazing collaboration, enjoy!
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Quietly opening the door, Jackson slipped inside without a sound. Whole house was dark, as his wife and Y/n were already sleeping. He was tired, hungry and completely drained. 
It wasn't surprising how late he was coming home, both his wife and step daughter knew how demanding his work was. 
Quietly making his way up the stairs after locking the door, he passed by Y/n’s room, glancing inside to see if everyone was okay.
The twenty year old was sleeping, as always at that time of the night, covered head to toe with her heavy, fluffy blanket, peacefully breathing. 
After seeing it, Jackson didn't wait any longer before heading straight to the bathroom for a quick shower, and less than fifteen minutes later he was finally in bed. The coziness and warmth overtaking him in seconds before he fell into a deep sleep.
”Fuck” Jackson murmured as he woke up covered with a thin layer of sweat, his whole body hot after the wet dream he had. A low groan leaving his lips as he reached under the blanket, feeling the rock hard erection that formed between his legs. 
Hard, hot and aching under the slightest touch, he knew that it wasn't an option to go to sleep with that. Huffing with how incredibly warm and aroused he felt, Jackson's hand wrapped around his thick member stroking it for a moment before he let go. The sensation of his own fingers wasn't enough in any way. 
Turning his head, he noticed the beautiful woman laying by his side, facing away. Her hair resting messily on the pillow as she slept rolled in a little ball. It's been so long since the last time they had sex, Jackson thought with sadness mixed with annoyance. 
Throb of his cock only deepening the despair, as he scooted closer. 
His big hand moves slowly on her body, his breath getting heavier as he stroked slowly her calf… feeling her soft skin while moving his calloused fingers up slowly, following the line of her bare, long leg.
His face moved closer to the back of her neck, allowing him to bury it in her hair.. taking a long sniff of her scent before groaning softly, getting more impatient with each second passing.
His hips moved involuntarily forward, making him find a bit of the friction he craved as his hands moved up the silky tank top she was wearing. So that he could stroke her bare hips before grabbing them.. his cock rubbing against the fabric of his boxers in an almost teasing way. He needed more… he deserved more, he thought as the frustration and anger started to grow in his body, making him quicken his movements. 
Pulling down his underwear freeing his cock from the boxers that grew too tight, too soon. 
Jackson's lips leaving wet kisses on her soft, smooth skin, his breath getting heavier and heavier at the thought of just taking what he wanted.. no, deserved. She smelled of.. a sweet, fruity scent that made his eyes roll in the back of his head, heart pounding in his chest at the burning list rushing through his veins. 
It was his wife’s duty to take care of his needs anyway so he could just slip it in her pussy while she kept sleeping, right? It's not like it would be the first time he did it. 
His bare chest kept moving up and down quickly, his chest hair tickling the woman’s back as his hips pressed harder against her round ass, making him groan softly breathless, his big hand flat against her tummy before he decided to pull carefully down the clothes that were covering her lower half.
His callous hand kneading his flesh of her butt, his breath caressing the shell of her ear 
“Fuck, honey” Jackson growled softly, smirking against the soft skin of her neck “Someone went to the gym, huh? This round ass of yours wasn’t that firm from what I remember” he praised softly, nibbling on her skin, getting more eager and horny. It was true, her body felt.. more firm. Sexier than the last time he had the opportunity to feel it well. 
It wasn't really surprising looking at how they just kept arguing all the time, the last time they slept together over six months ago. 
“Yeah..” he hummed, grinding his bare, leaking cock between her ass cheeks as he stretched to grab the lube from the bedside table. His bottom lip caged between his white teeth as he kept moving his hips. We don’t need a condom, do we, honey? He thought, glancing at the still sleeping woman, his chest pressed back against her back as he spreaded the lube on his cock, pumping it a couple of times before thrusting it between her clothed thighs. No, we don’t.. bet you won’t mind, he thought again as his eyes rolled back and his mouth dropped slightly. Remembering all the arguments she caused lately, acting ungrateful and rude towards her hardworking husband, Jackson bared his teeth involuntarily as anger filled his veins. 
He deserved to take her. Now and anytime.
His hips moved on their own as his hand kept her bare thighs together “Such a good, little slut” he murmured, increasing the speed after he checked that the woman was still asleep. 
His eyes narrowing softly as the thoughts kept spinning and occupying his mind, anger was now boiling in him as his hips increased the pace, making his skin slap against hers. His legs pressing her own down into the mattress, keeping her in place, angled the way he wished. 
That's the least she can do, he thought with arrogance, stay fucking put.
He couldn’t hold it any longer, the need to be inside of her completely overwhelming his senses. So completely lost in his pleasure he grabbed his cock, squeezing it in his fist lightly as his eyes fell shut for a moment, before moving her a bit. After making her change her position to allow him to press his thick cock at her entrance, Jackson's eyes widened feeling how wet she was in her sleep.
Someone had a wet dream too, huh? He thought with a grin. 
He didn't budge or planned to give her an easy time after waiting for several months. Mercilessly thrusting it completely at once, despite remembering how she always struggled to take him. 
His hips smacking her ass harshly “Nu, no spankies, daddy” a soft tired and breathless voice murmured, followed by a whine as his pubic bone kept slapping against her ass, his aching dick inside of the tight warm pussy, burying deeper and deeper with each stroke until finally, he nestled balls deep inside her for a moment, breathing deeply. Jackson didn't remember her being so.. tight. The sudden squeeze on his cock made him have to breathe a couple seconds to ensure he wouldn't cum right away.
“Daddy—” the voice repeated in a whine, squeezing him with her slick, hot walls as never before.
His incredibly bright eyes snapping open as soon as his brain registered whose voice it was, his hips continuing to thrusts in an animalistic pace. Fuck, he thought, stretching his body to go deeper inside of the warm cunt. His jaw dropping open in a silent groan when his hands grabbed his stepdaughter’s breasts from under her silky tank top.
“Fuck, baby.. shhh, everything is all right, go back to sleep.” he murmured, not stopping his assault at her cunt “Such a good girl, yes?” he praised, holding her closer as he increased the speed, listening to her soft moans and whimper.
Jackson wished he could stop, but the lack of pleasure for the last months made him go absolutely feral at the sensation of a tight pussy relentlessly squeezing him and sucking him right back in every time he'd pull back.
Y/n tried to look at him, turning her head to the side, but he didn't let her. Grabbing her jaw with his right hand, he squeezed it tightly keeping her head in place, panting right by her ear, his hot breath hitting the skin on her neck.
”Shouldn’t have come here dressed like that.” He hissed, hearing the whimpers pushing past her lips with each thrust. Jackson's hips had their own mind, picking up a fast rhythm, fucking her hard and without any intention of stopping despite knowing how wrong it was. 
“Where’s your mother?” he rasped out, groaning animalistically in the crook of her neck. It felt so.. forbidden for the both of them. 
Jackson couldn't help but let the little thought blossom in his mind, after getting neglected by his wife for so long. 
Revenge sounded pretty good to him, especially if it consisted in exploring and finding pleasure by using the young body that aroused him since the first time he saw her.
”She.. She..” Y/n attempted to respond, his fingers pressing on her neck a little too tightly to speak freely. ”She went to.. the club.” She managed to stutter out, followed by cries and loud moans as Jackson sped up, hitting her pussy harder than before as anger grew even more. 
“Of course, she went” he spat, clenching his jaw in annoyance and anger “Fucking whore” he insulted his wife, holding Y/n’s throat to keep her in position as his hips smacked against her red butt “But you are better, aren’t you?” He whispered, breathing deeply, inhaling her sweet scent again. 
Jackson leaned in closer, his wet lips grazing over her neck, a little above his hand. ”You’re not a whore like your mother, eh?” he breathed out, making her whine as his thick cock brushed her sweet spot “You’re a good girl, right, sweetheart?” His low voice praised her as Jackson's moves became more sloppy, more careless as he started feeling his climax getting closer and closer, tension in his lower stomach getting stronger with each thrust.
“Fuck, fuck—” he cursed, inhaling sharply… her scent getting him, making him feel surrounded and dizzy for a moment, till he suddenly felt a grip on his balls, her soft hand caressing them, causing him to finally shoot his load inside of her with a low groan.
“Fucking naughty thing” he rasped in her ear, making her giggle cutely that brought a small smile on his face. A smile that dropped as soon as her smaller hands moved his big one on her lower tummy “Will be a mommy now… mommy of your babies” she teased, holding back a smile as she felt his whole body tense, his hand gripping slightly the flesh of her tummy.
“W-what?” he murmured as thoughts ran inside of his head. 
Jackson was completely frozen as his brain started working again, no longer clouded with lust.
Y/n shut her eyes, feeling that he didn't soften inside her yet.. but rather twitched again. 
With a high pitched whine she started moving her hips while rubbing her clit, not wanting to be left without orgasm.
Jackson let out a choked breath, shocked with her previous statement as she kept moving, impaling herself on his still hard cock.
“Y/n..” He breathed out, holding her hips, but it didn't take long before she came, spasming and shaking for a couple minutes.
As soon as her orgasm subsided, Y/n breathed out with a giggle, turning back to face him. A mischievous smile on her face before he pecked his lips, turning back around.
“No worries, daddy, I'm on a pill.” 
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Taglist:
@gabile18 , @mrsfullbuster500 , @rex-ray , @elizamalfoyy, @eovjjj @wife-of-magic-monkeys , @jeremiah-va1eska , @gothamchic16, @rabbiteggz , @dieg0brandos-wife , @rottenecstasy , @lazyexcuse , @teh-vampire-bunny , @lobotomy-lover , @slasher-smasher , @sleepycreativewriter , @mrkdvidal1989
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willowbelle · 4 months
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You Know Me
Part Two
this is a part two to this fic: Stay Here, With Me
another poetic fic, enjoy!
i lowkey hate this ugh, writer’s block
❤︎ trafalgar law x reader ❤︎
༉‧₊˚✧ (nsfw, 18+ only) ༉‧₊˚✧
cw: mentions of sex, mentions of both Law's and reader's trauma, lots of fluff and comfort ♡︎
word count: 1,000
𖡼.𖤣𖥧𖡼.𖤣𖥧𖡼.𖤣𖥧𖡼.𖤣𖥧 𖡼.𖤣𖥧𖡼.𖤣𖥧𖡼.𖤣𖥧𖡼.𖤣𖥧 𖡼.𖤣𖥧𖡼.𖤣𖥧𖡼.𖤣𖥧𖡼.𖤣𖥧 𖡼.𖤣𖥧𖡼.𖤣𖥧𖡼.
You Know Me
Skin, limbs, sheets, sweat, 
Tears. 
You sat on pins and needles as he stroked your hair, slowly bringing you back down from that place in your mind you hadn’t ever ventured. 
You sat curled up in Law’s lap, in all your nakedness, tears streaming down your face, your vulnerability on full display in more ways than one. 
You felt weak and you showed it.
With each touch of his fingers in your strands, you felt yourself coming undone in his embrace, low sobs emitting from your throat and into the warmth of his tattooed chest.
“Shh, shh, shh,” he cooed, his typically low, monotone voice was now enveloped in a newfound sweetness; comfort. 
Your sobs soon turned to wails, and he squeezed you tighter as he spoke, “Let it out, y/n, I’m here.” 
Law took you down the roads in your mind that even you, the paver, had not yet traveled. 
The dark allies where your trauma lingered,
The grooves of your brain that housed your darkest demons,
you went there hand-in-hand. 
He places a comforting hand on your back, your weak form trembling beneath his tattooed fingers. 
“You’re okay, you’re okay, I'm all ears whenever you're ready, and if you’re not,” he smiles gently, “Then that’s okay, too.”
“L-Law,” you began slowly, tilting your head up to look into his eyes.
And finally,
You shed for him;
Shed your tears,
Shed your secrets,
Shed your skin.
You had harbored these words in your head for far too long, guarded with the shield of your own terror. 
And so, with the gentle pull of his uncharcateristic kindness, 
You let go. 
You inhaled shakily before clearing your throat and gazing back up into his eyes, 
For as long as you could remember, you’d always been scared; scared of sex, scared of silence, scared of men.
But with Law, maybe you were scared because, for the first time in a long time, at the root of it all;  
tangled limbs, soft kisses, wet hair, 
you weren’t scared.
You had always tried to slap the fright out of you, rip it from your bones without giving yourself time to recover. But Law did so differently; he did so gently.
Law pried the fright from your body in his own way, his own tender way. 
And he noticed your wounds, your baggage, 
but he wasn’t frightened by them, 
he covered them in bandages and removed the aching from your shoulders, the loads that you’d carried for years and years. 
And perhaps, for the first time, you could learn to be gentle with yourself, with his hand in yours,
maybe you’re not afraid anymore.
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Law’s works quickly, quietly, just how he was taught. 
From the moment you began your relationship, Law studied you, just like he did all things in life; methodically, passionately. 
That’s how he knew just how to prepare your morning coffee; a little cream, a touch of sugar, exactly how you like it. 
He takes subtle glances towards your shared bed to ensure he hadn’t woken you, humming to himself in contentment as he sees you still sleeping soundly. 
Law takes a quick sip from his own mug before taking a seat at his desk, still watching you intensively, steel irises scanning up and down your naked, sleeping form. 
His heart swells in his chest as he watches you, and he sits silently, picking his brain to find the moment where his life took such a drastic turn. 
Law had always been a troubled, cynical man; a tired soul who bore the heavy weight of his own tragic past. 
He was a pesimist in the truest form; a sculptor of despair, carving his worldview from nothing but  the rough stones of skepticism and pain. For as long as he could remember, heartbreak always seemed to follow him. 
But with you, things were different. 
The moment he laid his eyes on you, something new, foreign, and beautiful began to bloom in the dark, unforgiving terrain of Law’s seemingly uninhabitable mind. 
His barriers crumbled for you, just as yours did for him, and although it frightened him, downright horrified him, he simply watched on as his walls came tumbling down. He didn’t scramble to stop it, or run to catch the stones, he just let it happen. 
For once in his life, this guarded, control-freak of a man finally let go. 
He allowed you to take his heart, 
and all that came with it, 
All the baggage,
All the scars.
and love him unconditionally. 
Soon enough, the gentle hum of the coffee maker and the sweet smell of espresso beconned you from your slumber. 
Law smiles softly as he sees you begin to stir, your beautiful eyes fluttering open and immediately scanning the room, searching for him.
You sit up slowly, rubbing your eyes with the back of your hands,
“Law…?” you croak out sleepily.
His voice is low and sweet as he speaks, 
“Right here, sweetheart,” 
He stands, slowly making his way towards you, gently placing a mug of hot coffee in your hands, earning a sleepy, but happy hum from you. 
“Mmm, thank you, you always make it perfectly,” you smile gently at him, scooting over in bed to make room for him to sit. 
He complies happily, wrapping an arm around you.
“I know you, dear,” he chuckles, “like the back of my hand.”
You giggle softly, resting your head on his strong shoulder,
“You sure do, Law.”
“And y/n,” Law begins again, voice quieter, now, 
“I like that you know me, too.”
𖡼.𖤣𖥧𖡼.𖤣𖥧𖡼.𖤣𖥧𖡼.𖤣𖥧 𖡼.𖤣𖥧𖡼.𖤣𖥧𖡼.𖤣𖥧𖡼.𖤣𖥧 𖡼.𖤣𖥧𖡼.𖤣𖥧𖡼.𖤣𖥧𖡼.𖤣𖥧 𖡼.𖤣𖥧𖡼.𖤣𖥧𖡼.
©this work belongs to willowhaze26.
do not repost, modify, plagiarize, translate, or share on other platforms. 
comments, likes, and reblogs appreciated!
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mrchiipchrome · 8 months
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New Girlfriend
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W.C. - 1.8 k
prompt 18. -Only I belong with you and only you babe.
prompt 20. -I hope you find peace for yourself, -New girlfriend ain’t gonna fill the void.
a/n: 1. I only know how to intrduce myself in Spanish, so excuse if it's wrong, 2. there's a list of prompts linked in my masterlist if you want to request:)
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3 years. You had just spent three damn years loving someone who was willing to chuck all that away in a second. Three wonderful years tarnished in the span of a minute, just because she decided that you weren’t enough for her.
Just because Alexia decided she was bored, of you and of your relationship.
When she just a week ago told you that you were done, over text nonetheless, you simply couldn’t believe what you were seeing. Everything was going so well, she hadn’t given you any indication of being unhappy whatsoever.
When the shock passed, the despair set in. What could you possibly have done to warrant being broken up with that way? Had you really been that bad of a girlfriend?
The thundering crack of your phone screen hitting the floor marks your breaking point, curling up into a ball on the floor and sobbing until nothing more comes out. 
You’re not even surprised that she doesn’t return back to the shared apartment you once saw as your home, now everything was just a reminder of her and how she’d been yours only seconds, minutes, hours, days, weeks before.
And no matter how much you cry, how much secretly wearing her hoodies tears a hole in your heart all over again, you know that she’s not yours anymore. You’ll never feel her feather light touch late at night again, never feel her lips pressing against yours again, never feel her nails scratching at your back.
Her new girlfriend was so much prettier than you, kinder eyes, glossier hair, better lashes, bigger tits, rounder ass. How could you ever compare to that?
Seeing her face everyday at training had you close to breaking down in tears, every look into your favorite pair of eyes bringing you that much closer to the edge.
The only way for you to not fold in two every single second you spend in her presence, is to outright ignore her. 
Something she doesn’t take too kindly to.
Dragging your feet against the floor, you’re instantly reminded of how Alexia used to chastise you for doing that exact thing.
All of a sudden, you can feel your shoulder being pulled on harshly. Stumbling back into the body of the mystery person, you can feel the familiar curves under your fingertips, her fingers clutching painfully at your shoulder. 
“Can we talk?” She rasps out, staring into your eyes with an indescribable amount of venom. The way she was looking at you, you’d think you were the one who broke up with her over text.
“No” Pulling your shoulder away from her iron vise grip, she doesn’t even get a glance in her direction.
“No te alejes de mi Y/n, you do not walk away from me.” Her thick spanish accent covers the english words, the once charming zing of her accent now only making you want to throw up.
“There’s nothing to talk about Alexia. You broke up with me over text, you didn’t even have the decency to look me in the eyes as you threw away 3 years.” Now it was her turn to not look you in the eyes, turning her eyes down to the sidewalk. 
“Say something then Alexia, that’s what you wanted to do right, talk.” You see how her lips move but no words come out, almost like she was expecting you to just lay down and admit defeat. Foolish of her.
“Good talk Alexia, I’ll see you tomorrow. Oh and, don’t forget to pick your things up from the apartment.” Turning on your heel, you feel her stare into the back of your head.
“Will you stop being so sour? I broke up with you a month ago, get over it!” She screams after you.
“Are you that far removed from reality Alexia? You think a MONTH heals your heart from being crushed?” You shoot back, in disbelief at her lack of knowledge of feelings.
“Dios mío Y/n, I hope you find peace for yourself” She tells you calmly, feelings spilling into her voice despite her attempt at composure.
“You do know that a new girlfriend ain’t going to fill the void right? She’s not going to love you like I do, like I did, she’s not going to be there for you like I was. When you realize that, you will come crawling back to me.” You spit back at her, equal amount of emotion in your voice as in hers.
When you turn away from her this time, you actually walk away from her and to your car, driving away from her and the argument. 
That evening is spent drowning your sorrows in ice cream and Alexia’s old very expensive wine. She wouldn’t miss it, she’s got 1000 other things to worry about.
Foolishly, in your drunken stupor you decided that it was a brilliant idea to agree to a night out with the team…including Alexia.
The anticipation of that Sunday night created a lump of anxiety that sat uncomfortably in your stomach, growing like a balloon being blown up until it fully consumed you. 
Foot tapping against the floor, you check your watch for the umpteenth time, fingers starting to fiddle with the buttons on your shirt. You were sure that the loose button would manage to come off before Pina and Patri would pull up, the two planning on getting drunk beyond recognition.
Sucking your teeth, you accidentally bite down on your tongue when you hear the loud noise of the car’s horn.
“HOLA Y/N” Patri shouts in your face directly after you’ve sat down in the backseat, the young girl reeking of alcohol.
“Someone’s already started the party, ey?” You get out through a hesitant chuckle, Pina meeting your eyes through the rearview mirror. 
Without much fuss, you all get to the venue, though the ball of pure anxiety was settling in your throat uncomfortably. The confidence you had only days ago was long gone, nervous picking at your fingers showcasing that.
When you stepped foot in that bar, the smell of alcohol and far too strong perfume hit your nose, overwhelming all your senses.
Yet everything seems to calm as soon as you catch sight of your ex, simply put she looked out of this world. 
No, you tell yourself, I can’t think of her like that anymore.
“Y/n/n let’s go to the bar, I need something to drink!” Pina close to shouts directly into your ear, the young girl clutching onto your right arm like her life depended on it.
You let yourself be pulled along by the two younger girls, setting your body down in one of the barstools, Pina and Patri each hanging off your shoulders. They each order their drinks, waiting for you to do the same.
“Just a coke please” The bartender sent you a quick wink before moving away, Thing 1 and Thing 2 ohhhh-ing loudly. 
“Your drinks ladies!” The pretty bartender hands you the glasses, your coke still in its glass container. Before you leave to join your friends, the woman slides you a piece of paper, her number written on it.
The blush stays on your face all the way until you reach the large table, ready to put your bottle down on the table. It seems like a certain someone was waiting for you to rid yourself off it before pulling you away from the rest.
“Hey, leave me alone!” You shout, not having seen the face of your perpetrator, but the nails digging into your arm gave you a slight indication as to who it was.
Next thing you know, you’re being pushed up against a wall, familiar lips locking with your own. Alexia presses her body up against yours tightly, leaving as small of a space between your bodies as she could.
Pulling your lips away from hers, you quickly wipe your sticky lips.
“Alexia, what are you doing?” The absolute disbelief in your voice makes her look at you like you were stupid.
“I saw how that fucking bartender was hitting on you, I had to send her a message. Only I belong with you and only you amor” She’s got a smug smirk on her face, looking back at the stunned bartender.
“No, Alexia, you broke up with me. You don’t get to do that because we’re not together anymore, I am not yours Alexia. I can date and fuck whoever I want, and you can’t do anything about that and it’s your fault.”
Walking away from her, like you’d done only days before, she once again calls out for you.
“You were right, she wasn’t like you. I have no explanation for why I did what I did, but I just want to apologise, it wasn’t…fair of me.” Her pauses between some of the words show how she’s truly trying her best to apologise.
“I want you back Y/n” You couldn’t even lie to her, say that you didn’t want to get back together, because it was the only thing you’d been thinking about these last few weeks.
Sighing, you look at your watch, before taking her hand and pulling her out of the doors. The cold evening air nips at your skin as you start to talk.
“You broke me Ale, and it’s going to take awhile to make up for that. If we’re getting back together then it’s on my terms, okay?” Alexia nods vigorously, she’d clearly do anything to get you back.
“Can I kiss you?” The timidness in her voice has you close to awwww-ing, leaning back against the brickwall while Alexia leans against the railing parallel to you.
Her intense gaze stays on you as you rest your head back against the cold hardened clay, exhaling through slightly chapped lips. The cloud that forms in the air presents the contrast between the warmth of your body and the cold of the night.
“That’s all I want” This time your lips lock in a calm dance, all the feelings of sorrow and longing being expressed in a single kiss.
"How about we get out of here?” Her hands lay flat against your chest, fiddling slightly with the material of your shirt. A slight chuckle escapes you, making Alexia look up at you through her eyelashes.
“Oh, amor I’m driving Thing 1 and Thing 2 home. I promised them I’d stay over at their place and take care of them after.” You kiss her hairline as she herself chuckles.
Wrapping your arms around her waist, she places her head on your chest, the vibrations of the tune you were humming sending her heart into overdrive.
“But we could stay out here for a while instead, I like having you back in my arms.” The only response you get is a kiss pressed to the column of your neck.
It would take a while for Alexia to get you back, it didn’t matter if it took 10 days or 10 years, as long as she got you back. 
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the-aisei-cousins · 5 months
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Promo: Murder and Thread
Here are Yolei's and Yoshino's Characters Files
...
A black screen appears as the voice of a girl can be heard.
"Hey Yo- Aaa! Why are you covered in blood!?"
"Hey Yoshino! I just got back from a killing Spree~"
The second girl giggles as the camera went on. It showed two teenage girls. One in what seems to be a black maid Uniform covered in blood. She had long dark purple hair in a braid. She had black tinted glasses and freckles on her face and the back of her hands. She smiled for a bit until she noticed the camera.
"What's up with the camera?"
She looks back at the other girl. The other one had long wavy mint hair with one small piece of it braided. She was wearing a cute white dress with a green vine pattern on the bottom of it and a part of her sleeves. Her sleeves were laced up together up to the halfway point and she had a pretty blue corset on with lace up blue short boots. She stocking where white and had the same vine pattern, but it was though out the shocking.
Both girls had the same body type, same fair skin, and the same bright pink eyes. The mint hair girl smiles.
"Oh, I thought we do a blog like Irofuka suggested to meet some more people."
"Well, if Milord suggested it then let's do it!"
The mint hair girl drops a sweat before turning to the camera.
"My name is Yoshino Aisei and this is my cousin, Yolei Aisei"
Yoshino gestured to Yolei.
"Nice to meet you all. I'm the Ultimate Spree Killer."
"Why did you say that part!? What if the police finds out!?"
"They can't do anything. As long as I have my Ultimate Title, they can't arrest me. Heck, I could even kill them and get away with it!"
"...don't mind her, she just got done with her killing spree. She will be like this for a few minutes or an hour. A-anyways, I'm the Ultimate Seamstress. Please ask us questions or just talk to us."
Tags:
@after-neo-world @ask-emma-magorobi @ask-the-otonokoji-twins @ask-the-warriors-of-hope @xxcottoncandybitchxx @master-detective-archives @y0u-f4il3d-m3 @mikado-sannoji @i-spy-with-my-lethal-eye @fall-of-eden @human-monokuma @sinistersmiles @kamon-of-hope @beautiful-despair @would-you-like-a-scooby-snack @k0k1 @edens-garden-au @scarred-smiles @yui-samidare-reborn @low-activity-side-characters(Akane Taira) @Anyone else
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diorcities · 1 year
Text
you enter your room, after taking a shower. you put the lock on the door, feeling the wind blow from the open window, hitting your body with a cold breeze. you hug yourself before going to close it, to proceed and dress up in your pajamas, freezing in place when you remember something; the window was closed when you went to take a shower.
the ringing sound of your phone makes a spasm attack you. “hello?” you pick it up, heading to the closet. “i wouldn't open the closet if i were you.” the voice makes your blood go cold. your fingers almost touching the doorknob, before contracting them into a fist, which you bring to your chest. “w-what?”.
“what's your favorite scary movie?” the line goes silent, as you battle for finding your voice. feet receding towards the exit of the room. “don't you dare, doll.” you froze, feeling the fear steals your breath. but... doll. that word. you're more than sure you heard that before.
your feet return to the closet, “you’ll regret this.” your hands reach out to the doorknob right before the door wide open, and a shadow emerges from the darkness. he charges against you, hands covered in black gloves, grabbing yours and pinning you on the wall. his grip is firm, yet painless, as his body presses into you, he gets closer to your face. you sigh in relief and annoyance when he starts making sounds of kisses under the creepy mask before you brush him off. he finds it funny. “c'mon, it was a joke.” he follows you around the room. you dodge him on your way to the closet, finally dressing up. “not funny,” you say.
he huffs behind your back.
“don't get mad about it.”
“you scared me for a moment,” confess, facing him. he looks down at you, removing the mask. hair wild and messy before he brush it off, showing his angular features contract in repent. “shit, sorry, i was stupid. i apologize.” you study him, finally giving up. when he see your face smoothing out, he reaches out to you. hands finding your waist. “why are you dressed like that, anyway?”
“isn't it obvious?,” he asks, forcing you to move with him backward, until your back bumps into the wall. “you like ghostface.” looking up at him, you find the small golden halo that outlines his figure, and also creating shadows on his face. “i do,” you concede. “mmm… what can we do about it?” he asks, pensive. he smiles when he finds the answer, “all yours.”
you press your hands on his chest, pushing him towards the bed. “look at you, so pretty, soaking wet,” he says, holding his body in his elbows, at the time his face approaches to you, kissing you passionately. after a long kiss, your hands go to the towel, breaking the kiss to toss it away. he groans in despair, drawing you back to him, kissing you more eagerly. you feel him remove his hands for less than a second. your now naked body being touched everywhere by his bare hands. groping your thighs, breast, and waist.
you grind against him, making him laugh under his breath, a cocky smile joining when he hisses. with a quick move, he pushes you against the bed, hovering over you and attacking your mouth in fiery kisses. teeth biting lips and warm tongue invading your mouth in the intense kiss that form a rock in your stomach, every time. his hands massage your breast, pinching your hard nipples. “oh, god,” you moan when his lips leave your mouth and start spreading kisses all the way down to your core. legs already spread open.
your hands go to his hair when he expels hot air in your pussy. tongue already starting to work on you. licking and glancing at your face. hearing your pretty moans filling the room. murmuring into your sweetness how good you taste. how wet you are for him. “so pretty, moaning like that. don't stop, okay,” he says. every lash of his tongue and every flick driving you to the epitome of ecstasy. he left you shivering watching you pass your high, still between your legs. licking your arousal.
you let out a whimper when he grabs your ankles and draws you closer to him, using his body strength to flip you over. lifting your hips in the position he wants. “now be nice and take me, yeah?,” he says, introducing his length in your pussy. your hands turn into fits, adjusting to his thick cock. your mouth being part open in a frozen moan, as he starts pounding into you in short, hard thrusts. cock burying deeper every time, making you a mess of babbling and choppy sounds. eyes shut as he mercilessly fucks you.
you're pressed into the mattress due to his hands holding you down, furious and fierce thrusts, fucking your pussy, senseless. the unbearable feeling spreading through your nerves, blurring your mind. senses fuzzy and brain clouded by the sound of his hips impacting against yours. you quiver under his mighty touch, as your stress releases in tears, feeling his cock hitting your spot, over and over again.
“i'm s-so close.” your back arch, pressing your chest into the mattress and lifting your butt, grinding against him. “feels good?” he wants to know, his cock hitting a new angle. “f-fuck… yes,” you cry, holding the sheets. “you better not cum until i tell you to,” he orders, holding your waist, and tattooing his fingers on your skin because of how hard he's grabbing you. “you're taking me so good, doll.” his voice full of lust groaning and swearing at your pussy tightening him up so well. “fuck!” you whimper. his movements cease to be so precise and become fast and sloppy thrusts. “i'm gonna cum,” he says in a whine. “be a good girl and take my cum, huh?,” he asks, “would you be able to take it?.”
“p-please, yes!.” your pussy tightens to his words. 
he pounds into you a few times more, slapping your ass the moment you release around his cock. wrapping his dick in your pulsing walls, feeling him painting your insides with his cum. he uses your clenching and throbbing pussy for a few more thrusts, milking his cock. hands spreading your legs to see his arousal leaking from your cunt.
he hears you mumbling under your breath, approaching you. body still suffering from the aftermath of your orgasm. “what did you say, doll?.”
“now with the mask on.”
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flowerandblood · 3 months
Text
Object of Despair (2/3)
[ dark • Aemond x Arryn • widow female ]
[ warnings: dubcon, oral sex, fingering, hate sex, smut, angst, domination, violence, swearing, humiliation, hard chauvinism ]
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[ description: Aemond is forced to marry a widow from House Arryn as part of the alliance and support of his brother in the war against the Black faction. After their wedding night, which went completely differently than he imagined, Aemond tries to return to his daily routine. The female character has a specific eye and hair color. Lots of hate sex, violence and chauvinism. ]
Part 1 − Object of Desire Part 3 − Object of Delight Epilogue
* English is not my first language. Please, do not repost. Enjoy! *
My other works: Masterlist
_____
Their wedding night was so different from what he had imagined that he was at once horrified, ashamed and intrigued by the person who had been living in the chamber next to his for several days. She wasn't seeking his company or attention, appearing only at suppers spent together with his family.
He knew he could have summoned her to his chamber at any time, and it would have been her duty to come and give him what he wanted, but every time he meant to do so he changed his mind and resigned, frustrated, staring into the light of the fire burning in the fireplace, sitting in front of it on his ornate wooden chair, thinking about that evening.
After what had happened between them it seemed to him that they had both suddenly come down to earth, not knowing what to make of how aggressive and full of rage the rapprochement had been.
He let her go and watched her, breathing unevenly, tying back his breeches, as she immediately covered her buttocks back up with her nightgown − he could see that her whole body was shaking, her lips trembling, her eyes big, her cheeks puffy from the tears that ran down her face.
She calmed down a little after his words and reassurances, but she was still terrified.
She asked him in a breaking, weak, quiet voice if she could now return to her chamber, and although he had originally had no intention of letting her lay in his bed, he felt disappointment at the thought that she had not begged him to let her stay.
Not wanting to show weakness or allow her to think that her presence was something he craved, he allowed her to do so with a nod, and she left without a word, neither bowing to him nor wishing him a good night, quietly opening and closing the door of his chamber behind her.
The next day, during the duel with Criston Cole, he could not concentrate − whenever he caught sight of a shade of blue out of the corner of his eye he involuntarily looked in that direction, thinking it was her in her gown that he remembered so fondly, his heart pounding hard with shame.
He pressed his lips together, turning his head away, snorting, playing with the hilt of his sword in his hand with apparent impatience, seeing some other woman − Cole watched him vigilantly, but not dared to ask either about her or his impressions of her.
Her presence was a taboo for him.
That same day, he walked and spent long hours in the great royal library, despite the fact that he usually instructed his servants to bring thick, old volumes filled with the history of his family and all Essos to his chamber. He hoped to meet her there, to confront her again, this time clearly showing her where she belonged.
To his disappointment, he did not see her until the evening − her blue gown immediately catched his attention, sewn from a soft, lovely fabric it fell heavily over her pleasant, girlish curves, accentuating her figure.
He swallowed hard as he looked at her face and noticed a large red bruise under her eye, which must have been the result of the moment he grabbed her by the hair and slammed her head on the table.
She was discussing something in a whisper with Helaena, his sister bent over her with concern, playing with her fingers in a nervous gesture they had all inherited from their mother.
They fell silent when they noticed him − her violet eyes looked up at him, sad, resigned and tired. He thought, feeling a burning embarrassment in his chest, that explaining to her who had the final word on what their marriage would look like was no longer necessary.
Sitting down at the table next to her he knew what awaited him − when his mother walked into the chamber and saw his wife she froze, the smile gone from her face.
She looked at him with pain, with disappointment he could not bear and he closed his eyes, thinking only of the fact that he wanted to sink to the ground.
"Dear sister-in-law, has my brother given you another gift besides, we all pray, his future heir in your womb?" Aegon asked with a sneer. He clenched his teeth, sucking in a deep breath, looking at his brother with grim fury, to which he only smirked, popping a grape into his mouth, biting through it with a loud crunch, amused.
He felt his wife shift beside him − his heart began to beat faster in panic at the thought that she was about to say something to humiliate him, to mock him in front of his entire family to take revenge on him.
"I slipped in the bath, my King." She replied simply, without emotion, regret or anger. He glanced at her out of the corner of his eye, surprised at the ease with which she lied despite it being obvious that everyone around her had guessed what had really happened.
His brother raised an eyebrow clearly impressed, cocking his head, leaning back in his chair with a loud creak of wood.
"You slipped." He repeated softly and she replied nothing, looking at him calmly.
She and Aegon exchanged glances for a moment − it seemed to him that she feared neither him nor his position.
"I hope no more such unpleasant…accident happens to you, my Lady. Such a pretty face." He hummed, reaching for his cup, but she merely blinked, no grimace passing across her face, as if his words did not bother her at all.
He himself didn't know what he thought of all this, so he decided to go back to his daily routine, pretending that she simply wasn't there, convincing himself that it would be better that way.
He didn't need her, he didn't want her, and her silence and distance were doing him a favour.
He watched her sometimes from afar, seeing her pleasant silhouette glide between the columns as he trained in the courtyard, always headed for the garden, the tree he had read about before she came to King's Landing, and at which he understood the Northerners prayed.
He did not think of it at first, but then he began to notice the gazes of the men and guards fixed on her as she passed them, their smiles, their dreamy gaze as if they were imagining what they would do with her body, the body of his wife, his right and his duty.
It planted a seed of doubt in him − he wondered if perhaps she was meeting her lover there, if he was a source of ridicule in the keep because the servants already knew that she had not been faithful to him, that she had betrayed her crippled husband.
This thought made him furious, but having no proof for his supposition he decided one day to change his plan for the afternoon and watch her through the window − as soon as he caught sight of her figure passing through the cloisters he left his chamber, moving unhurriedly after her.
As he walked between the tall shrubbery, hearing the grass rustling and the birds singing, he tried to focus on other sounds, expecting quiet moans and panting to reach his ears, but heard only his own footsteps traversing the path strewn with small rocks rattling under his feet.
He stopped as he stepped into a small clearing − a large, white weirwood with a disturbing, wrinkled, red face on its trunk looked at him ominously, his wife lying on her back on the grass beneath it, her eyes closed, her dark, loose hair surrounding her head, her hands laid on her stomach.
He stood motionless, wondering if she was waiting for someone, however, she did not open her eyes or look around.
He thought with surprise that she was asleep.
He swallowed loudly, for some reason feeling desire at the sight of her lying silhouette, the fact that someone could see and hear them, that she was his wife, and he could take her here and anywhere else he wished.
He felt how his cock swell in his breeches, his lips tightening into a thin line as the heat spilled in his lower abdomen.
She shuddered and opened her eyes when she heard him move towards her − she lifted herself up on her arm, her lips parted in disbelief, however for some reason she did not rise or try to escape.
He stood, towering over her, feeling his superiority and dominance over her in this position and this situation, his fingers slid down to his breeches, untying them in a calm, nimble manner.
"Come here, wife. I promised you something, didn't I?" He asked, feeling his heart pounding like mad, releasing his aching erection, its pink tip glistening from his precum.
It seemed to him that she was shocked by his insolence, by the fact that he wanted to profane her sacred place, after a moment, however, the expression on her face changed. He parted his lips noticing how she rose slowly, kneeling before him as if to pray, with a light flick of her hand sliding the material of his breeches lower, looking him straight in the eyes.
No fear, no terror, no regret.
He sighed and immediately grabbed her by the hair, wanting to be in control of what was happening when her hand grasped his throbbing, hard cock in her soft palm, squeezing it at the base. He drew in a loud breath as her lips brushed its tip without any hesitation, her pink, shiny tongue licking it encouragingly. He tilted his head back, delighted.
"− fuck − keep going −" He commanded, impatiently pressing her closer to his lower abdomen, watching her with excitement and curiosity, his manhood quivering with desire in her hand, her fingers giving it a calm, assured strokes. He groaned involuntarily when he saw how she slowly slid the fat head of his cock between her lips, the tip of her tongue teasing him lazily.
She sighed as the thrust of his hips slid it deeper into her mouth − he heard her almost choke when it hit the back of her throat, her palate wonderfully wet and warm, her lips clamped down on it, in some natural, subconscious reflex beginning to suck it.
"− that's it − there you go −" He gasped with awe at the perverted sight before him, his fingers entwined in her smooth, soft hair, clenching down on it, controlling himself, however, so as not to cause her too much pain, forcing her head not to escape when his hips with sure deep pushes invaded her throat.
"− did you often satisfy your late husband like this? − it's clear this isn't your first time − little slut −" He exhaled, groaning lowly listening to the loud clicks of her saliva each time his aching cock disappeared again and again deep into her mouth, her hand tightening on it more firmly, making him accelerate his pace.
"− stop − that's enough −" He muttered, having no intention of wasting his seed, wanting to finish inside her, trying to push her away, but he felt her tongue trailing down his length, her free hand clamped down on his buttock, not allowing him to escape − he had to lean against the tree trunk, his other hand holding her hair as his cock thrust into her greedily.
"− f-fuck, fuck, fuckkk −" He hissed out in rage combined with delight and groaned loudly in relief as he felt his semen spill over her palate. He looked down at her, her eyes closed, all around them only the rustle of the leaves, his shaky, loud breaths and the sound of her swallowing, so lewd it sent shivers down his spine.
Slowly she slid it out of her mouth, his cock all slick and glistening from her wetness − her soft, pink tongue licked it for a while longer, teasing and sucking lightly on its tip from which the remnants of his seed still flowed. He stroked her smooth hair, feeling his body still shudder with shivers of pleasure after such intense fulfilment.
"− you look perfect like this −" He gasped softly, his thumb running over her cheek, noticing with some kind of relief that there was hardly a trace left of the bruise from a few days ago.
"− you will spend this night in my chamber − you should try how it tastes sticky with your moisture − don't touch yourself −"
That evening he waited impatiently for her, strangely excited and anxious, pacing around his chamber, absorbed in his thoughts.
He feared that she would humiliate him, show him, by not coming to his summons, that she despised and disrespected him, and then force him to use violence against her again.
He did not want any more accusing glances from his mother directed towards him at the table.
He shuddered as the door to his chamber opened suddenly − he turned over his shoulder and swallowed hard, noticing her figure covered only by her night gown and the cashmere blue shawl thrown over her shoulders − her long dark hair were loose, the look of her violet eyes calm and full of some kind of curiosity.
"− have you touched yourself? −" He asked coolly as the door closed behind her with a loud clatter of wood, turning towards her, walking in her direction with his hands folded behind his back.
"− no −" She replied softly, without any pleasantries or further elaboration, looking straight into his face without a sign of fear or uncertainty.
He intended to regain control of the situation she had taken from him when she decided when he would come and how, all by herself.
Stupid cunt.
"− undress and lie on your stomach −" He commanded in a dispassionate, cool, deep tone, from which her gaze darkened a little, as if clouded, her plump lips parted slightly but no sound came out of them.
She walked past him without a word, heading barefoot towards his bed and climbed onto it, her back turned to him as she sat on his bedding, letting him watch as her fingers slid the fabric of the robe off her shoulders, letting it fall down, revealing her naked, smooth body.
His hands began to undo the clasps of his tunic as she lay on her stomach following his command, her face turned the other way so that he could not see her gaze − the sizzle of the fire in the fireplace all around them, and besides, a complete silence filled with a heavy, stifling tension, a threat of what was about to happen between them.
He felt what he saw in his cock, his manhood expressing painful impatience, throbbing in his breeches at the thought that he intended to come deep inside her that night more than once.
"− did you love that fool? −" He asked indifferently in a voice slightly hoarse with arousal, licking his lips with his tongue in satisfaction to see that her whole body tensed, her fingers clenched on the pillow lying under her head, her back rising in a shuddering breath.
She was silent for a long moment, as if his question had startled her − he watched her vigilantly, pulling his boots off his feet, staying only in his undershirt and breeches as she lay exposed, bare, vulnerable, condemned to him and him alone.
No matter what her answer would be.
She shuddered, as if snapped out of her reverie, as he sat up behind her, his large hand running over and stroking her full, soft buttocks.
"− speak −" He hissed, his hand slapping her bare skin so sharply and quickly that she bounced and squealed. He gave a reassuring stroke to the spot, red and throbbing in the indistinct shape of his hand − involuntarily his lips curved into a teasing smirk as he noticed the moisture glistening between her thighs, her folds pink, throbbing and swollen.
She liked this kind of games, he knew that.
"− I was the furnishings of his household − I loved him as much as his chair, his bed or his table could −" She muttered, and he looked at her, surprised, not knowing himself what he thought of her words. He stared at her face, her gaze fixed on his window, her lower lip trembling as if she was trying not to cry.
He hummed, intrigued, moving forward, placing his hands on either side of her head, his long hair tickling the bare skin of her back and shoulders, making her gasp loudly, her body quivering all over in anticipation and uncertainty, fear and curiosity at what he was about to do.
"− I am, I believe, in his debt − he taught my wife how to suck cock so well −" He whispered quietly with a hint of dark mockery and threat, her lips parted wide in a quiet moan as he slid one of his hands under her stomach, parting her legs with his knee, forcing her to spread them in front of him, his mouth ran over her neck as his fingers sank into her leaking, soft, hot womanhood.
"− but did he fuck you good? − hm? − did he know your weaknesses? − your most sensitive points? −" He murmured, her whole body breathless, her buttocks bucking up towards him and rubbing against his hard cock, moving to the rhythm of his fingers as their tips dug into her tender skin, trailing around her bud, teasing her once in a while, his hand all sticky with her juices.
"− fucking answer me − he fucked you with his fingers 'till you mewled his name? − 'till you begged for his seed? −" He growled, crushing her with the weight of his body, his other hand clamping down on her neck, careful not to overdo it though − she whimpered loudly, writhing beneath him as he quickened his pace, running his fingers over her puffy slit again and again, leaking from her fluids, his fingers invading her fleshy folds with a loud, lewd click, his aching manhood hitting her buttocks.
"− yes − he's gained experience with whores and servants before, just like you −" She hissed out, her breath caught in her throat as his fingers tightened harder around her neck, his two fingers forced their way inside her, stretching her tight, hot, wet walls with sure, deep pushes to which her hips responded greedily with rocking, meeting him halfway.
"− shameless whore − maybe I should care less about your pleasure, hm? − fuck you so that you cry out in pain −" He threatened, and she laughed, struggling to catch air, her lips parted wide, her eyelids clenched.
"− objects do not know fulfilment or disappointment − love or hate − do what you want with me −" She breathed out, her eyes opened, releasing a wave of tears that ran down her cheeks, seeing this he slid his fingers out from inside her and let go of her neck, quickly untying his breeches, for some reason furious at her words, his nostrils twitched dangerously in accelerated breath.
His thumbs spread her folds wide to the sides, allowing the fat head of his cock to force its way inside her with her loud moan of surprise, his one, brutal push was enough for him to thrust deep into her with a sigh of pleasure and satisfaction.
"− listen − that sounds like disappointment to you? − like hatred? −" He sneered, panting loudly, placing his hands on either side of her head again, his knees spreading her thighs wide so that he slid fully into her, bucking his hips, his thrusts violent, sure and deep, each time his thighs slapping against her buttocks with a loud click of her moisture.
"− fuckin' leaking − all thirsty for my cock −" He gasped, feeling her muscles squeeze him tightly in pleasure, his face sinking into her soft, fragrant hair, his hands in some subconscious, natural reflex found her breasts, caressing and kneading them between his fingers, teasing her nipples with his thumbs.
"− ah −" She cried out innocently, girlishly − he stifled a low groan hearing that sound, accelerating his pace, opening her slick cunt wide on his cock again and again with brutal, quick thrusts, his mouth sliding down to her neck, clamping down on her skin, sucking her so painfully hard that she hissed, grabbing him helplessly by the hair.
"− I promise you that when I'm done with you, you won't be able to sit up tomorrow − your stomach and womb full of my seed −" He growled out into her ear, his breath caught in his throat as her hands found his, clenching on his fingers, entwining them together, her hips responding to his thrusts so eagerly that he struggled to restrain himself from coming just yet.
"− don't stop − fill me, please, please, please −" She mewled so loudly and sweetly that he lost control completely; he could feel the sweat trickling down his back from the exertion, one of his hands slid down her stomach, giving her pearl a few encouraging strokes from which her whole body quivered.
"− good girl − say my name −" He muttered with his face pressed against her soft hair, no longer controlling his movements, his hips slamming into her involuntarily, aggressively and quickly, no longer sliding out of her, chasing his own fulfilment, her walls clenched against him greedily, sucking him inside, wet and hot.
"− Aemond, fuck me, fuck me, f-fuck −" She whimpered and that was the end of it, from her lips came sounds of pleasure and relief he had never heard before, sweet, girlish, innocent, vulnerable, he felt her moisture trickle down her thighs, soaking him all over, her core throbbing hard in fulfillment, giving him wonderfull squeeze.
He gasped loudly, letting go at last, coming so hard inside her that it went dark before his eyes, his fingers tightened on her body to make sure she wouldn't escape him, their bodies writhing in convulsions, overwhelmed by how intense the fulfilment was, slapping against each other.
"− oh gods −" He mumbled, stroking her smooth shoulders, breasts, hips, thighs with his large, rough hands − he felt as if the scent of her body, her hair and her moisture had completely overwhelmed him, filling his lungs and his head. He closed his eyes, panting loudly with her, only realising after a moment that the fingers of one of her hands were still entwined with his.
They lay like that for a moment, trying to calm themselves, his lips finding her cheek, neck and shoulder, placing hot, lazy, wet kisses on them. He heard her sigh softly, her words like honey to his ears.
"− I want to taste you now −"
_____
Aemond Taglist:
(bold means I couldn't tag you)
@notnormalthings-blog @nikstrange @zenka69 @bellaisasleep @k-y-r-a-1 @g-cf2020 @melsunshine @opheliaas-stuff @chainsawsangel @iiamthehybrid @tinykryptonitewerewolf @namoreno @malfoytargaryen @qyburnsghost @aemondsdelight @persephonerinyes @fan-goddessing @sweethoneyblossom1 @watercolorskyy @apollonshootafar @padfooteyes
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back2bluesidex · 1 month
Text
Where Do Broken Hearts Go - Chapter 6 (18+)
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Pairing: Model, ex-boyfriend!Jungkook X Child psychologist, Fem!Reader X Lawyer, Single Dad!Hoseok. 
Summary: Jungkook stripped your emotions naked, left you bare in the chilly wind of despair and self-doubt with an unending heartache. You tried your hardest to move on from him, to live for yourself but failed miserably. Each night you had to come back to your empty home where memories and broken dreams were scattered all around the floor, until one day a little angel and her unbelievably beautiful father came into your life. Finally, when you find yourself healing, maybe falling too, Jungkook had to show up! Again!
Theme: Angst, pining, heartbreak, break-up, smut
Warnings: SMUT AHEAD!! Explicit sex, hair pulling, tit slapping, nipple play, body worshipping, doggy style, protected sex, Hoseok is just so whipped for her, confessions, mina makes an appearance, multiple orgasms, argument, drama!!! NSFW!!!
Word count: 4.1k+
Taglist requests are closed.
Minors and karens are not allowed in this blog
A/N: This chapter was so fun to write. I hope it's fun to read for you too. Please let me know what you think of it.
Main Masterlist
Chapters:- 
Prologue/Masterpost || Chapter 1 || Chapter 2 || Chapter 3 || Chapter 4 || Chapter 5 || Chapter 6 || Chapter 7 - Finale
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It’s been long since you had any physical action. 
Jungkook was far too unattached for the last couple of months of your relationship that he couldn't offer more than a few kisses and touches. 
And then when he left, you were far too drained to give yourself a moment of release. 
So, this can be a reason why you currently feel that you are being touched for the first time ever. This can be a reason why your skin is ablaze, your heart is pounding so hard that you can hear it in your ears and your panties getting soaked at the speed of light. 
Hoseok groans in your mouth when you manage to slide your tongue inside of his. He tastes like the red wine you two just had. But he feels like everything you have been missing in your life. 
“Stay the night.” Hoseok whispers in your mouth, parting for a second. A string of saliva connecting both of you. 
“Should I?” you reply breathlessly. 
And then you are kissing him again. His hands hold you steadily by your hip, squeezing your ass occasionally. 
“But first, let’s keep these away.” you murmur in his mouth and he groans in affirmation. 
Parting from your lips again, Hoseok places a quick peck on your mouth and takes the wine glass from your hand. When he exits the balcony to keep the glasses on the dishwasher, you follow him. 
Calling Hoseok only handsome would never be justified. 
You stare at him thirstily as he puts the glasses inside the dishwasher. His forearm veins flexing with every movement he makes. The black turtleneck is tight around his well-built chest. His dark styled hair has come loose around his forehead so a few strands are covering his eyes. 
You start blushing but not because you are horny. It’s more than that. 
No matter how independent you are, you have always wished to have a small family. Some people, who you would always come back to. Someone of your very own. 
And you have always pictured Jungkook with you in those moments. 
But now, when you have a glimpse of what you could have in future (only if Hoseok feels the very same way), you feel greedy. 
You want to wake up in the morning beside Hoseok, kiss him good morning, take Sua out of her bed, kiss her too, and at night you want to tuck her to her bed, kiss her good night and end your day in Hoseok’s arms. 
You don’t know if it’s right for you to ask all these and you don’t even want to think of that. For now, you know you are in love with the man in front of you.
You know he is attracted to you too, and it probably doesn’t match the intensity you possess for him. But for now, you want to live in this feeling. It’s been long since you have felt anything akin to butterflies and you want to enjoy it all as long as it lasts. 
“Do you know how beautiful you are?” It's Hoseok who speaks. He takes a step towards you. 
“Am I?” you mirror his actions. 
“Yes. very much.” he takes a hold of your hand and places a kiss on top of it, “so much so that I want to make you mine… only mine.” 
Hoseok intertwines his fingers with yours, making your heart go even wilder. You can’t remember the last time when you felt this loved, this cherished, this much adored.
His eyes stay on yours. You can’t find the least bit of mockery in those. His words are sincere, he is sincere and right now, you can read him like an open book. 
Placing your other hand on his cheek, you whisper, “then.. What’s stopping you from doing so?” 
His skin is smooth much like his words. 
Hoseok halts his movements at your question. His eyes flood with emotions that are not quite positive. You know what he might be thinking. And you want to dismiss his thoughts as soon as possible. 
“I- I don’t see why you would want someone like me? I am in my thirties, a single father on top of that. You can have hotter younger guys swooning over you, offering you the world and what not. And me? I can only offer you myself, my love and Sua as a bonus. That’s all.” 
You smile at his admission. He probably thought his words would discourage you from stepping towards him. But in reality you fall for him even more. 
Encircling your hands around his neck, you reply, “and what if that’s more than enough for me? What if that’s all I want? You, your love and Sua as a bonus? Will you make me yours then?” 
“I have been alone for far too long, Y/N. and… and I might not let you go if we step into this. I might never let you slip away from me. Will you be okay with that?” 
“I will love that, Hoseok. I.. I have come to like you a lot in the past few weeks. And would love to fall for you in the near future.” you connect your forehead with his. 
“Too bad, because it took me only the first glance to fall head over heels for you.”  as soon as his confession ends, his lips find yours. 
This time the kiss is slow. 
Hoseok takes his time to explore every corner of your mouth while caging you between himself and the kitchen counter. 
You kiss him with utmost sincerity as well. 
Hoseok bites down on your lower lip, making you release a low moan. His kisses shift to your jaw, then to the column of your throat, painting bruises all over your skin. 
His hands find their way to your thigh. And within a moment he lifts you up and sits you on the counter.
Slotting himself perfectly in between your legs, Hoseok nips on your throat. 
“Hoseok” you moan breathily. 
Hoseok’s hands venture underneath your dress, discovering your bare thigh. Your breath hitches when his fingers reach closer to your leaking core. 
Just when he is about to touch you there, the door lock chimes in. 
Hoseok detaches his mouth from your skin. You can see all the color from his face start draining as he whips his head to look towards the main entrance. 
“Hoseok” a high pitched voice comes out of the narrow passage that leads to the door. And at once you know who it can be. 
Her stilettos clink against the marble floor as she invites herself inside. 
You don’t make any effort to demount the kitchen counter or shoving Hoseok away from your body. You stay still, holding him by his arm and so does he. 
“Hoseok, why didn’t you-” the woman comes into your sight wearing a tight bodycon dress that certainly emphasizes her curves a lot.
You gotta admit the fact that she is indeed pretty. And if you’re a tiny bit jealous then it’s a discussion for another day.  
“Mina! What the hell? How do you know my passcode?” Hoseok screams at her. But she is too busy scanning the position that you and Hoseok are in. 
“That’s not important now, Hoseok. Who is she?” she points her finger towards you. 
“Why are you here?” the man asks calmly now. 
“Because you won’t reply to my texts or receive my calls! And I suppose she is the reason why?” 
“Mina. Let’s talk about it later. I need you to leave now, you can see I am busy.” 
“Who is she, Hoseok?” Mina asks again, determined to know your identity. 
Hoseok looks at you. 
Maybe he is hesitant to name your relationship and it’s natural. You are definitely not only in a professional relationship with him anymore but you are nothing more than a person he just kissed. 
So you decide to answer on behalf of him, “I am Su-” 
“She is my girlfriend.” Hoseok cuts you off. 
Damn! Did he just call you his girlfriend? 
When you look up at him, he is already smiling at you, “she is my permanent.” 
You two are too busy staring into each other’s eyes that you don’t see the third figure bolting out of the door and banging it way too loudly. Before you can register it and say something, Hoseok is picking up where he left off earlier. 
His hands work faster this time, undoing the knot of your dress and pulling the cloth away from your body. Your dress falls limp on his feet. 
Your hands grab Hoseok’s turtle neck as if they are on auto-pilot and tug it out of his slacks. He helps you in undressing himself. 
As soon as his honeyed skin comes into view, you start salivating. 
“Fuck! Is it really legal for you to be this sexy?” you speak the words out loud. Your hands explore the expanse of his chest, his stomach, his torso. 
“Why? Are you going to report me?” Hoseok chuckles, trying to tear your hands away from himself so that he can see you properly. 
“I might… report you to my bedroom.” You place a kiss on his throat. 
He groans, finally grabbing your wrist, he pins those on your back and says, “I’m one hell of an attorney. I know how to win cases.” 
He swiftly unclips your bra and takes the article off your body.  
“Holy shit! Y/N! You are so fucking gorgeous!” Hissing at the sight of your bare chest, Hoseok garbs your right tit with his free hand.
“So big! Damn! I bet your nipples will taste heavenly on my tongue!” 
His praises turn you on beyond repair, so you whine. 
He takes your left nipple inside his mouth. At first he rolls his tongue on the bud and then he starts sucking it. His sucks are so powerful that the action produces loud wet sounds. You bite back a moan even though it’s tough to do so. 
“Come on, baby! Let me hear you.” Hoseok speaks into your tit. His saliva runs down your bosom. 
“B-but Sua is-”
“Her room is upstairs, remember?” 
“O-Oh. I completely forgot you fucked Mina neumerous tim- Ah” a bite of sharp teeth on the sensitive skin of your nipple restricts you from completing the sentence. 
Hoseok slaps on your other tit harshly and bites on your nipple again. 
“Hoseok!” you let out a thunderous moan. 
When he finally leaves you tits, those are covered in red, purple bruises. 
Hoseok winds a hand around your naked waist and picks you up easily. You wrap your legs around his torso, letting him take you to his bedroom. 
On other times you would take a look at the decoration of someone’s bedroom as that tells a lot about a person. But right now you can only think of Hoseok’s body, his mouth and those damned set of fingers. 
He drops you onto his plush bed and hooks his fingers around the waistband of your underwear. Once those are discarded, he takes off his own slacks. 
His strong thighs make you wanna ride him till you come undone. But then your eyes fall on his bulge. The anticipation of his rock hard cock filling you up makes your head spin. 
“Let me see you, baby!” Hoseok cooes at you and only then you realize, you have been clenching your thighs and blocking the views. 
Hoseok urges your legs open. Hungrily staring at your leaking core, he licks his lips. 
“Fuck! The most beautiful cunt of the most woman I have ever seen. You are a fucking goddess! I will worship the ground that you walk on.” Hoseok groans briefly before he dives down into your heat. 
As soon as his mouth comes in contact with your cunt, you start seeing stars. 
He kisses your mound, then your folds and then your clit. He takes it into his mouth and sucks the bundle of nerves as his life depends on it. 
And when he enters a finger into your core, you feel your heat building. 
His tongue plays with your clit as two of his fingers plunge into your hole at a rhythmic pace. It’s too much to take, so you voice, “Ho-Hoseok! I’m gonna c-cum.” 
“Yes darling. Cum on my mouth.” he takes out his fingers from your hole and replaces those with his tongue. His fingers do the job of drawing tight eight figures on your clit in the meantime. And as a result, he rips out one of the best orgasms you have ever had. Your scream accompanies your release as you cum in Hoseok’s mouth. 
“So sweet. So fucking sweet.” Hoseok stands on his feets. 
You are so fucked out already that you miss the moment when he releases his cock from its confinement and strokes it twice.
When your eyes finally fall on his naked body, you start getting wet again. 
“Oh god, Hoseok!” you try to sit up and take a hold of his meat. 
Wrapping your fingers around the base of his cock, you give a kitten lick and wipe away his pre-cum. Hoseok shudders with your touch. 
But he takes his cock away from your hand and murmurs, “You can suck me dry later baby. I really really want to be inside you now. Will you let me?” 
Sitting on your knees, you place a kiss on his lips, “Do whatever you want, Hoseok. I am all yours.” 
Hoseok grabs you by your neck and smashes his lips on yours, “You drive me crazy!” His words vibrate into your mouth. 
He tactfully lays you down and snatches a packet of condom from the drawer of his night stand before climbing on the bed. Rolling down the same around his girthy length and lines his cock on your entrance.  
“Can I?” He asks briefly before pushing himself inside your greedy hole slowly. 
He gives you a few moments to adjust first and when you are done he starts moving. 
“Fuck! So tight! Fuck!!!” Hoseok growls as he holds you in your place by your waist. 
The first few thrusts are slow, he takes his time with preparing you. But then you whine, “Hoseok! Faster!” 
“Whatever you say, baby.” Hoseok mutters briefly as he urges you to sit up and change position. He pulls himself out of you. 
Within a moment you are on your fours. 
He grabs you by your waist and slams himself inside again, pulling out an earth shattering moan from your mouth.
His other hand reaches for your neck and then ventures into your hair. He grabs and pulls your hair gently as he thrust into you harshly again. 
The thrusts are so powerful that your words morph into nothingness and come out as gibberish. You start clenching around him sooner than you would like to admit and you know you are gonna cum again. 
“I- c-cu” and you cum on his cock even before Hoseok could offer you a reply. 
“Shit!” He growls as he cums in the condom. 
Your body falls on the bed, you are too exhausted to even get up and clean yourself. 
But soon enough you feel one strong arm sliding underneath your stomach and flipping you over. Hoseok lays you down on your back and then places a damp cloth in between your legs. He cleans you thoroughly. 
Honestly, you want to cry. When you peek at his face, you see nothing but admiration. He gives you a small smile and continues. 
Once he is done, he lays down beside you. Greets you a small good night, wraps his arms around you and kisses on your crown as you slowly melt into a dreamless sleep. 
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He still can’t believe it. 
Hoseok still can’t believe that you are now his. His to hold, his to kiss, his to love and do all the things he wants to do to you, with you. 
Without any doubt, last night was one of the best nights of his life until now. And now that he knows how it is to fall asleep beside you and wake up with you sleeping in his arms, he doesn’t want a life without this.
He traces the contour of your face with his thumb as if to make it into a muscle memory. Your eyes, your nose, your lips.. He wants to remember everything, he wants to engrave it into his brain.
Your alarm goes off, breaking your sleep. 
You stir awake and then look for your phone on the nightstand. Turning it off, you look at him and give him one of your most beautiful smiles. 
“Good morning.” gosh! Your sleepy voice is perfect. 
“Good morning, darling.” If hoseok isn’t wrong then he can clearly see you blushing at the nickname. 
“How did it come here? I definitely left it at your dining place.” You ask him, pointing at your phone. 
“I brought it. Thought you might have an alarm set and see I was right.” he reaches down and places a kiss on top of your nose. 
“Umm. so considerate.” you mirror his actions. He giggles at that. 
“I need to get up now. Do you have an extra toothbrush?” you ask, starting to get up from the bed. 
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“Y/N! I could drop you. It’s not a big deal.” Hoseok whines. He wants to spend as much time with you as possible. Or better he doesn’t want to let you go. But he knows you have work to attend and he values that. 
“I know, Hoseok. But I don’t want you to wake Sua up and drop her to your sisters’ this early. And on top of that the cab is almost here.” you take your purse and follow Hoseok outside his mansion. 
Hoseok intertwines his fingers with yours and pulls you closer once you are at the porch, “I don’t want to let you go.” 
“Neither do I want to, handsome. But Namjoon will kill me if I take another day off. I slacked off for two entire weeks after my break up.” The mention of your break up somewhat dims the light in your eyes but Hoseok knows he can make it better. He can heal you. 
He puts a hand on your cheek and places a chaste kiss on your lips, “So, today is our day 1?” 
He knows he has successfully diverted your mind when your cheeks turn darker and a sheepish smile takes over your lips. 
“If you say so.” you murmur. 
Just right then the cab pulls in outside Hoseok’s mansion. You hug him and bid him goodbye. 
“Y/N” he stops you when you are about to tear apart from him, “what are you doing this weekend?” 
“Nothing. Nothing at all.” 
“Great then.” 
And with that you leave. Even though it upsets him, it also fills him with a new excitement of seeing you in two days. 
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Saturday comes painfully slowly. 
But the prospect of seeing Hoseok not as your counselee’s guardian but as your boyfriend has kept you filled with an incredible amusement. 
You two pondered on what to do and where to go for your first official date. But no options satiated you. You kept making excuses for whatever he came up with and there is a reason why. 
You wanted to spend time with him inside the comfort of your home. And when you presented the idea to him, he agreed in a heartbeat. 
The preparations have kept you busy since morning and it’s almost the time of his arrival. 
So you change your clothes, slip into a fresh pair of tee and shorts, wash your face and apply some lip balm. 
As always, Hoseok is right on time. He rings the doorbell right at 7 pm, just as you two decided.
“Hey, come in.” you open the door wide open, welcoming him inside. 
He has arrived with a large bouquet of red roses and a plastic bag full of soju bottles. 
“Flowers for a flower.” He offers you the bouquet and you can’t help but tsk. 
“So cheesy, Mr. Jung.” 
“I’m sorry.” he laughs out loud. 
Once you are done putting away his presents, you take a good look at him. 
He has his hair down today, unlike the other times you have seen him. His fluffy hair covers his forehead, making him look younger. His lips, as always, are inviting. And he has chosen to dress himself in an oversized white hoodie and baggy jeans. 
“You.. are looking so beautiful, baby.” It’s hoseok who compliments you first. Wrapping his arms around you, he takes you in his embrace. 
“I was about to say the same. You look so handsome, so domestic.” letting your lips capture his in a kiss, you show him how much you have missed him for two days. 
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“Is it okay for you to stay the night?” You ask Hoseok in between your ragged breaths. His mouth sucks on that one spot on your neck, that gets you all weak. 
“Sua is with her grandparents and she likes them more than me.” He replies, pulling his mouth away from your skin for a second. 
“I doubt that. She loves her daddy the most.” You giggle as Hoseok’s hands slide inside your t-shirt. 
He shuts his eyes as soon as you emphasize you on “daddy.” 
“Can you call me that again?” his voice trembles a bit. 
“What? Daddy?” It's such a pleasure to tease him like that. 
“Don’t tease me, Y/N!”  his nails dig into the flesh of your waist. 
“I’m not teasing you. I am asking. Is that what you liked to be called? Daddy?”  
“Fuck it!” Hoseok growls as he captures your lips in a hungry, rough kiss. His hands reach up to your tits, groping the flesh to snatch a moan out of your lips. 
And just then the doorbell rings. 
You whine into his mouth before breaking the kiss. 
“Who is it now!” clearly being very annoyed, you charge up to the door. 
“Hello, who is it?” asking through the door dash cam, you wait for an answer. 
Whoever is outside, is wearing a helmet and from the angle of the camera, it’s impossible to tell if it’s someone you know or not. 
“Courier service.” the muffled voice of the person replies. 
You don’t think much. You usually receive a lot of mail for seminars and stuff that has become a common feat. 
So you open the door. 
But to your dismay, the person wearing that damned helmet and bikers’ jacket is none other than your ex-boyfriend. 
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The scene slowly unfolds in front of Hoseok.
He sees your good mood turning sour as soon as you see the person standing at your door. 
“What is it again?” you grit through your teeth. 
This is the first time Hoseok is seeing you losing your cool and if he is not wrong then the person on the other side is your ex-boyfriend, Jeon Jungkook. 
Even though your body is blocking the view, Hoseok can see the man taking off his helmet.  
“I need to talk to you, Y/N. please.” he speaks in a calm voice as if it’s no big deal to knock on your ex’s door at 9 on a saturday. 
Hoseok’s hands ball into fists. His blood boils at the thought of your ex-boyfriend trying to win you back even after he left you for someone else.  
“I don’t understand what the fuck is left to talk about?” you scream at his face.
“Y/N, Please. I know you can’t forgive me for what I have done to you but I understood it. I- I realized my mistakes. I thought I fell out of love with you but-” the man sighs, his voice trembles constantly, “but I was wrong. I broke up. I- I ended things with her as soon as I realized I still love you. I never stopped loving you. I never-” 
For a moment, Hoseok is afraid. What if you take him back? What if you accept his apologies and take him back into your life. What will be left for Hoseok then? 
But, “It’s too late, Jungkook.” you cut him off. 
“Y/N, please.” 
“I don’t feel anything for you anymore. And I will appreciate it if you leave now.” 
“Y/N, listen to me-”
“Didn’t you hear what she said? She asked you to leave, Mr. Jeon.” Hoseok intervenes. Even though he knows he should not butt in, but you are now his, and it’s his responsibility to protect you. 
You turn your head to meet his eyes. Your face is apologetic as if you are ashamed of whatever is happening right now. He assures you a small “it’s okay”. 
Then he looks at the man standing at your door, only to find him glaring already. 
“And who are you to come between us?” Jungkook’s voice is now laced with venom. 
“I am her boyfriend.” Hoseok replies as he walks up to you and stands between you and Jungkook as if protecting you from an impending danger. 
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