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#'i think you can see why the title is ''everybody knows'' now :)'
leclsrc · 6 months
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wanna be nearer ✴︎ mv1
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genre: 18+, fuck buddies ahhhaha, smut, porn w/o plot basically...
word count: 3.6k  
It seems every time you tell yourself to stop, Max comes back into your life and all sense of resolve crumbles. title from this
auds here… hiii :) req'd by SO MANY PEOPLE i can't even start compiling all the asks hahah but if u asked for this here it is! writing's been tuff for me lately but this was the one thing i could continue daily (weird) also there is a case to be made re: max's hottest pictures being like 1 pixel in resolution... hope u all like it!!!
nsfw warnings under the cut!
18+ because... sexual tension, penetrative sex, some vague sexting/a sex tape being watched, praise/dirty talk central, size kink, unprotected sex, handjob (f receiving), max being a meanie
It’s busy today. You haven’t seen him all day. 
To be fair, you weren’t necessarily looking—not at first, anyways. How many days had it been since the last time, now? The one in your hotel room? Almost two weeks, you think. The real answer’s blurry in your head, especially when you count the close calls, but this should be a record for you two at this point. Neither of you acknowledge that the only reason you’ve been so good at staying away from each other is because when you’re not roped into the same media junket, you avoid each other at all costs.
The media pen is full; everybody’s shoulder-to-shoulder because a few other networks bought their way into the space for the Singapore race. Right when your mind settles back into the focus of work, though—
“Here,” he says, his voice rough and tickling your ear. You nearly stumble forward, shocked at how his voice almost vibrates through you, a low trill that ripples top to bottom.
His hand settles at the small of your back, like his verbal confirmation wasn’t enough on its own; it’s big and his thumb rubs softly at the smooth strip of skin in-between your low skirt and your top. “Passing through.”
“Sure,” you say, dry. “Sorry.” You clear your throat and cant backwards into his touch—briefly, before you step forward and allow him to pass fully. Across you, Lissie looks up from her phone and you sense her trying to gauge why you’re so close to Max.
You blink and wait for him to disappear, wondering what you’ll tell her—how, more like. How the conversation even opens. How you’d phrase the truth, which in itself is a horribly grey area. Well, Lis, if you must know, Max and I have casual sex. A lot. It’s actually not very casual. We stopped now, but—yes, Max. That Max, yes. 
“What about Max?”
Your eyes snap upward and then to your left, where you can see Max’s figure disappearing into a crowd of engineers. They return to Lissie and you feign confusion to mask panic. “What?”
“You were spacing out and then suddenly said his name.” She presses the tip of her pen onto her chin, humming. She doesn’t look at you and you thank God for it—eye contact would’ve rattled the truth out of you in seconds.
“I…” You shake your head. “I was irritated with—I’ve been irritated with him all morning. It’s. Yeah.”
“Oh,” she says, nodding, looking away for a second but not pausing. “Oh, okay. D’you wanna go over this edit again?”
The stale air of his hotel room, alleviated only by the vaguely fragrant linen spray they use when he’s out, is what greets Max when he arrives in the afternoon.The first thing he does—the only task he’d even thought of en route here—after the door clicks shut is pull up his Messages app and type.
Just got to hotel. He tosses his phone onto the bed while he waits, tugs his cap off and rakes reckless fingers through his hair. His new stylist’s got him onto jeans that don’t “look painted on” (you once said, verbatim), but he’d rather die than lounge in denim, so he swaps them out for just his Calvins.
His mind’s lethargic, but even his version of lethargic is high-drive for others—his brain has the silly tendency to work in absolute overdrive. He itches for a drink and orders a Scotch on the telephone. He checks his phone, which is lying facedown still, and as soon as he picks it up it chimes with your reply.
OK, nice. Did u need something?
No, just wanted to let you know. He hits send, then adds another. You’re off @ 8?
Ended early, I’m in the car. He’s in the middle of drafting a response when you send a follow-up.
I thought we agreed no contact unless business
He scoffs out a dry laugh. Despite himself, he reads the text in your voice, his brain completing the image of the bossy tone with crossed arms and a wickedly arched brow. In response he types: Can’t even update a friend nowadays? I am very tired you know.
Rules are rules, he reads. Then, Get some rest.
Yeah. Got a drink.
I said rest, not drink. Even then he can hear the exasperation in your voice.
How was work? I hurt a muscle doing training. That’s why I’m at the hotel early.
Feel better soon, you send. Had some press stuff today. Boring shit
Yeah? I missed you today.
Really?
A lot. He hums and leans backward, lets his head settle into the pillow, the smell of the linen spray consuming his nostrils. He waits for his phone to buzz, vibrate softly on the hard surface of his chest. It does, after a few minutes, after he’s let his eyes shut and let himself rest them for a bit, after the room service comes knocking and gives him the Scotch he’d requested while ago.
He’s back sitting on his bed when it vibrates. He picks it up and reads: How much?
You’re awfully easy to rile up. He smiles around the rim of his glass—he knows exactly where this is heading. 
So much I think I’ll watch some videos of us.
The only caveat of casual sex as two people who essentially dislike each other is the fact that it’s all under wraps—which means if you two try to sneak off together, or are even caught in the same vicinity, people raise suspicions. And that means there are weeks where you barely get to fuck.
And that means you both grow antsy for it. He makes fun of you for being needy, when you’re tipsy and palming at the denim of his jeans or when you bend over when you know he’s looking. But the truth is he grows needy for it, too, craves you like you’re all that matters—he gets extra handsy, drops another innuendo when he knows you’re listening. There is a case to be made that he’s worse, in fact, because fans sometimes skirt around his words and wonder why he sounds so flirty when you’re the reporter in the room.
It was difficult but eventually he found a minor workaround: sometimes he films the two of you. There’s none of those propping his phone up kind of stuff, he just fishes for it in the middle of fucking you so he can store it for himself. It’s locked on his phone and he only has a few (the few has grown in number lately), but God it gives him release when he needs it and you’re not there.
I’ll call you when I’m at the lobby, comes the response. It’s always futile, the attempts to stay away from each other.
He pulls up the folder and lets his eyes skate over the thumbnails, squeezes himself through his boxers. Fuck. He can’t seem to decide what he wants to watch—the ones of you sucking him off, the ones of his fingers stretching you out. He recalls the whine in your voice in each of them, the pleads that escaped you for him to fuck you harder.
So Max, for the life of him, can’t even count how many times these videos have made him cum. But there’s one he hasn’t seen yet—the one he took the night before you two parted. You’d become extra needy on this night, preceding the season, he supposes, the separation. You already were anticipating the deprivation, starved for him more than usual. He’d have kissed you pretty, given you one orgasm after another and still you’d want more. And on this night it was you who asked him to film, you who wanted all of them on tape, so you’d both have something to tide you over until he got to fuck you again.
He pulls his cock out and strokes over it. And with his other hand, he presses his thumb on that video.
In it he’s fucking you in the dark, keeping the phone’s flashlight on your pussy as he sinks his cock into you. When he pulls back out the light reflects on the slick coating his dick, makes it glisten. It looks so wet, sounds so wet, with each thrust into you. He remembers just how it feels; he imagines that he’s back in your bed, fucking you again; that his fist is your pussy, and the spit lubricating it is the wetness that’s drooling out of you on camera.
He can see how tight you are—the way your pussy grips the shaft each time he pulls his cock out, greedy for him. Just like you.
The two of you were supposed to be quiet, too. You were at a hotel, your room beside another driver’s; you were supposed to be careful not to stir anyone. But your moans are louder than he remembers; so is the way you say, breathily, between gasps, Right there, Maxie, m’so close. Max inhales through his teeth, his cock throbbing at that—that Maxie, the cute little whimper out your mouth.
He strokes himself faster, watches the way your fingers slip into frame to rub at your clit, his thrusts getting sloppier and sloppier. He can see, hear—feel how wet you are, the sound of your cunt growing wetter with every thrust. He hears his own voice again, mutter out So good for me, yeah? And your babbled affirmation in response.
You cum hard, your slick getting everything wet and shiny and Max watches himself cum next. His dick’s already spurting when he pulls out and lets himself release on your lower stomach, some of it shooting onto your tits. He blinks, anchors himself back, quickens his wrist and digs his heels into the bed to keep himself from coming. Just a second longer. He knows what comes next and he needs to see it.
Like clockwork, he watches two of your fingers swipe through his cum, bringing them up to your lips. You blink up at the camera and smile. Quit it, your lips mouth, pink and cum-slick. Put it down, Maxie… fill me up again. He releases in weak spurts over his fist, a damp, flushed grunt escaping him as he does. He feels like the air’s been knocked out of him.
His phone rings and he presses it to his ear. “Hey, angel. Come on up.”
One week later
“Vodka,” you say to the bellboy when you get to the elevator. “To my hotel room. Very cold. Please. And thank you.”
The guy scurries off to fetch it for you, and five minutes and one elevator ride later, you're wrestling himself into your room, flexing your sore foot. Japan does hotel rooms well. The leather of your Manolo digs into your foot the way it does after you’ve walked the entire day and you can feel a blister forming on the back of your right heel but it doesn’t really matter, you guess, if you’re already home. Hotel-home, anyway.
You expect to find solace lounging on your bed, waiting out the hours to your morning briefing for the race and throw back a glass or two of vodka. 
Instead, you find Max on your couch. He’s sipping ice-cold vodka—your ice-cold vodka.
“Hey, pretty,” he says. “Good vodka. I got staff to wire my FIFA on the TV.”
You just stare. “My TV. What,” you say, your eyes spotting the bottle of frosty vodka by his glass, “are you doing here?”
“I hadn’t seen you all day and I wanted to,” he explains simply. “Do you want food or something?”
“Food? I—nevermind,” you shrug. You’re frozen by the door, only just warmed now from the cold air that bit at your bare legs. “Max, how long have you been here?”
“Since Will Buxton started the post-FP debrief,” he huffs. He fiddles with the remote in his grip and extends it to the TV, where FIFA comes to life. “Aw, come on, angel. I know, I know. No sex and all that. I just like your company, you know?”
“Please. Go fuck yourself,” you scoff, toeing off your shoes and wiping your hands on the fabric of your skirt. He says one thing but you expect another—it’s only natural, given all the other times one of you had failed to keep a similar promise. But still you walk yourself beside him, fix the strap of your short dress, and allow him to pour you a drink.
“You know what I’ve been thinking about lately?” He asks absently. “About how you’re always having these talks with me about… about not having sex anymore, but you never even last two days.” He raises you the glass. “What is it, relapsing?”
“Fuck you,” you mutter. “It’s only because you keep trying to get me all hot and bothered.” You recall each time: in Monaco, in Madrid, in France. “Maybe if you got off my back once in a while, we’d be back to normal.”
He shrugs. “You just don’t have strong resolve.”
“Excuse me?” You scoff, irritation scratching at your throat.
“Wanna test that out? Come play.”
Your eyes flit over to the bright screen, all exhaustion cleared from your system. An animated Kylian Mbappe kicks a football in a loop. “Fine. One round and you’re out of my room.” He throws his hands up in surrender and you make a move to sit next to him. Max puts his hands out towards you then, nodding. You mistake it for some handshake, accept them, and then he’s wrangle you onto his lap facing outward. You feel your pulse at your throat as he pulls you tight against him.
“This is cheating,” you say, your voice dry.
“You got it wrong. Teaching.”
He moves his fingers atop yours, explaining what to press, what goes where, what to do for this or that. He can smell your perfume, hear your stilted breaths, and when he peeks over your shoulder he can see where your dress falls loose, showing the lace of your bra and your tits underneath them.
If he had it his way, he’d hike your dress up and have you ride him. But he’s given you a challenge.
You play a practice round and end up scoring a few goals, fingers making quick work of the buttons. Behind you, Max watches, content, answering your questions when you ask them hurriedly—how do I do this? That? Did I just score?
You score once, then twice, then three times, and before you know it you’re scoring in quick succession. The game is fun—it’s easy. If Max was trying to give you a hard time, he failed. You grow determined, competitive within seconds (something he really should’ve anticipated), and you’re scoring goals with skill that you’d confidently say rivals Max’s.
Max. You almost—almost forget he’s there, and then you sit up straighter and you’re hit with the sensation of his dick pressing into your ass. You inhale sharply and the controller clatters to the floor.
“You okay, pretty?” His hand comes up to rest on your knee, inching closer and closer with every hitch of your breath. Your hand, now free of the controller, seizes his, stopping it right at the middle of your thigh. 
“I’m fine.”
“Yeah? You look stressed.” He doesn’t move. “You were so close, too, weren’t you?” The score stares you right in the face: 4-5. “Maybe you just need to get your mind off it.” It’s so bullshit, so extremely obvious, but he’s right in your ear and his hand is so near where you’ve missed its presence.
You’re usually competitive. You can usually hold your ground. But with this and him—
“Maybe,” you breathe, loosening your grip. He spreads his legs, spreading yours in the process, and brings his hand closer, running slender fingers over the lace material of your underwear until you’re squirming. It grows damper the more he touches, your mouth hanging open with stunted whimpers.
“You always come back to me, schatz, don’t you,” he says, whispers against your ear. You wrench a moan out. “Remember the first time? You interviewed me in Abu Dhabi… you teased me the whole day and begged to come thrice in my room. The time in Monaco you touched yourself to me when I was in the next room. The time we almost hooked up in Miami…” He groans, to himself more than you. “You’re a dirty girl.” He’s curling two fingers inside of you now, grazing against the sweet spot pulls the most delicious moans out of your innocent mouth.
“Every time… you go, that was the last time.” While your mind recaps the memories he’s busy spelling into your ear, Max’s fingers are curling inside of you against that sweet spot just right, and your moans are getting louder and louder.
“Fuck,” he huffs, watching your flushed face get more and more euphoric.
“Aw, pretty, look at that,” Max laughs. He’s looking at your thighs, watching the way they tense and shake as his fingers stroke your g spot. Each pump and curl into your twitching pussy feels better and better, and your dripping walls are starting to clench around his fingers.
“Wait, I—I can’t,” you pant, lolling your head onto his shoulder and involuntarily bucking your hips upward. 
“Yeah you can,” he orders. “It’s so easy to get you to cum, isn’t it? Or is that just for me? The driver you hate the most?” He laughs. “Get all wet for the guy you couldn’t care less about. Say you hate me and get my dick nice and wet the next day.” You’re grinding onto his three fingers now, shameless with it.
“Are you gonna cum?” He asks.
“Oh,” you whine. “Yeah, fuck—yes.”
“Tell me what you’re gonna do,” he says wickedly. You can hear him smile.
“I’m gonna—please—I’m gonna cum,” you pant, tension coming to a halt and then bursting all at once out of you. His other arm holds your hips down against him, and you spend a minute and another twitching, your skin sticky with sweat and slick.
It’s not long before you’re whirled back to face him, your hands making quick work of his jeans. It’s a skill you’ve both mastered, the art of the quickie—in closets, hotel rooms, with sweaty, open-mouthed kisses pressed along the column of your throat, moans swallowed. 
He hikes your dress up and your panties to the side, immediately bullies his cock into you—the glide is slow, but easy. You’re so fucking wet.
“Fucking big,” you gasp out. “Jesus, Jesus—fuck.” Your head drops and presses against his; he uses the opportunity to kiss you. You moan into it, feeling the stretch, your slick wetness dragging down the length of him as he thrusts up, up, further. “Been a while.”
“Feel good, though, yeah?” Your toes curl and you nod; you’re flushed all over and you need him to hurry up. You grind downward, onto him. He does, then, fucks you hard and fast, like he’s thirsted for this for way longer than he did. You’re squirming, all wet, and it tempts him to go harder. Your face is shiny with sweat, lips drawn in between your teeth.
“Slo—slow down,” you manage, babbling; he doesn’t, speeding up his thrusts until you’re moaning his name. “Max—wait—fuck, you’re so mean,” you whine, wrapping your arms around him and letting him take control. 
“You’re fine,” he grunts, pulling out almost all the way. “You take my dick so well, schatz, every fucking time. Don’t you?”
“I do,” you gasp out, and he’s slamming into you gain. You cry out loudly, sniffling from the overstimulation—you’d barely recovered from your initial orgasm and already you’re hurtling into what feels like three at the same time. 
“For someone who doesn’t like me,” he sneers, “you sure do moan like a slut, huh?”
His words get you more turned on than you’re willing to admit, but you shake your head.
“No?” He laughs, breathy from the effort. “Maybe I should film you now. Send it to your boss, let him see his stellar reporter’s getting Verstappen’s dick wet.” 
Finally, the tension building inside of you reaches a head, and your pussy starts to twitch around his dick. He notices, grunts sharply and leans forward, shuddering as he releases into you. Your moans are choked and tapering into whimpers as you release slick all over him, and you attempt to catch your breath, collapsing onto his still-clothed, now-sticky chest. You scratch at the dri-fit material and inhale him, the smell of his cologne, his sweat. You bite at his earlobe, laugh when he flinches.
“That,” you say into his skin, “was the last time.” It’s both seriously and as a joke, playing off of what he’d remarked earlier.
“Jesus, princess. I’m still inside you.” 
You giggle and drum lightly along the plane of his chest. In a few minutes he’ll pick you up to shower, but now you’re content to inhale him in. Quietly you wonder why you just can’t get enough of him—if you were in better senses, you’d have realized he was thinking the same thing about you.
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totaly-obsessed · 2 months
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Watch it!
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Kyra Cooney-Cross x reader request
-> Kyra can only keep her relationship a secret for so long...
-> A little shorter
➳ Masterlist
•─────⋅☾ ☽⋅─────•
When Kyra joined you at Arsenal both of you could not have been happier, but while you were already an established part of the team and already made a name for yourself in the WSL after joining Arsenal after two seasons at Chelsea, Kyra was new in the league.
So in a joint decision, you decided to keep your relationship private for now. Not a secret, but private. But it was so funny seeing the girls trying to find out who your girlfriend was, and trying to set Kyra up on a date.
As time went on Kyra’s title of ‘annoying little sister’ was slowly set in stone and it did not make her happy. Why couldn’t she just be Kyra – a good, young footballer who was new to the team?
So then she started to actively hide your relationship – even going as far as to ignore you in training, only talking again when she came home to your shared apartment and it was starting to take a toll on you.
But either Kyra didn’t see it or she just didn’t care – even after you tried to talk about it with her she brushed you off, stating that she was meeting up with Charlie, your joined friend, who has just joined you in London.
Conversations got rarer and frosty dinners more often. You hated this. She had to dislike it too, right? No one would like to sit in a quiet, stuffy, tense room. Not even with their girlfriend.
Before the much dreaded Manchester City game you were faced with a screaming Kyra – who had enough of your complaints, so it was safe to say, that the atmosphere was tense once your girlfriend walked in with Katie and Caitlin.
The couple had picked the brunette up at your home after she had refused to enter your cars and decided to make a scene.
Everybody noticed the difference – Steph and Caitlin had already been confused, the two of you had been such good friends in Australia, and the World Cup camp was filled with giggles as you pranked one Matilda after the other. Even Mini didn’t know what happened and Kyra tended to tell her everything.
The match was brutal and your girlfriend couldn’t help but wince every time you went down after a tackle from the opponent. And while you got up every time, she couldn’t bear to watch, trying to keep herself busy somehow.
It was a 0 – 0 deadlock in the 70th minute when Kyra had been subbed on for Kim, who was still struggling a little after her injury. And just a couple of minutes later her worst nightmare came true.
You went in for a header against Alex Greenwood, but the ball rebounded off of someone’s head – who wasn’t important to the young Australian, as she watched her girlfriend immediately crash to the ground after colliding.
Alex stayed down as well.
Fuck there was a lot of blood.
And before she could even think about it Kyra started to sprint across the pitch, and Steph could have sworn she had never seen her young friend that fast.
“Babe? Are you okay?”
You weren’t – evident by the lack of an answer. She quickly noticed your unconscious state and immediately fell to her knees next to you. Shaky hands pulled down your shirt, trying to keep you safe from the stares of the viewers.
“You’re gonna be okay my love – I promise.”
While your teammates noticed the suddenly very affectionate nicknames, there were more pressing matters at hand, you were still bleeding from your forehead.
The medics took a look at you and quickly decided that getting you on a stretcher and off the field was their best option.
Getting you on that dreaded, bright orange thing was a slow process and the paramedics were as careful as they could but a quiet, painful moan left your lips as your eyes cracked open.
You could hear Kyra crying somewhere in the area around your head, while you could see the other girls by your feet, as you were carried away, every step shaking your whole body, releasing a new wave of pain originating from your head.
But it was going fine, until one of the people that were carrying the stretcher slipped, letting go briefly of his corner, sending you into a tilted position. The pain-filled cry could be heard in the deadly silent stands.
“Watch it you fuck – that’s my girlfriend!”
Heads snapped to Kyra, who didn’t even look away from the guy who let go of you.
“Out of my way.” And just like that your girlfriend took over and Jonas had to look for another person to sub in.
“Don’t think you’ll get away with this young lady!” But Steph’s shout was completely ignored as you left behind a stunned Arsenal team who had just figured out, that you and Kyra did in fact not hate each other.
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cutielando · 7 days
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conflict of interest ~ rafe cameron
my masterlist
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Everyone on the island knew you were the Kook Princess. That title had long been taken from Sarah, specifically ever since you started dating Rafe Cameron, the renowned Kook Prince.
Life with Rafe was everything you had ever imagined it to be and so much more. 
He took care of you, made sure you never lacked anything, spoiled you rotten with gifts, spa days, holidays, boat days, movie nights, adventures, everything you could ever think of.
You two loved each other more than anything, your shared love proving to be a force to be reckoned with.
However, not everybody believed that what you and Rafe had was unbreakable. Amongst that crowd was also Topper, Rafe's best friend.
Topper knew how Rafe was, they had known each other ever since they were little kids. He knew how possessive and protective Rafe could get over things, especially over you.
But he couldn't help it.
He couldn't help the way your presence made him feel, the way butterflies would just go wild inside of his stomach every time he would hear your laugh or see your smile, he would just go numb every time he would smell your perfume, the sweet flowery scent he had come to obsess over.
Breaking up with Sarah meant he got to see other people, explore the island a little more. And the lucky bee had been you.
You didn't like Topper. Not in the slightest. You had always found him a little weird and too much of a soft puppy dog who couldn't think for himself.
Your heart and everything belonged to Rafe and only to Rafe. 
Of course, the both of you had seen the way Topper would stare at you at parties or when you would hang out with the other Kooks at someone's house. The way he would be way too eager to help you with anything just so he could get some time alone with you.
Rafe had been furious at first, of course. He couldn't even fathom the possibility of someone stealing you away from him. That was just not an option. He loved you way too much to let himself lose you.
Especially to someone like Topper.
Which is why the current situation you had found yourself in was not favorable for anybody.
Rafe had only left you alone for maybe 2 minutes while he went to the kitchen to get a refill for the both of you. You had been left talking to a good friend of yours when Topper suddenly appeared in front of you, drinking out of a red cup and swaying from side to side.
"Heyyyyy, Y/N" he was slurring so badly that you could barely understand what he was saying.
"Hi, Top" you smiled at him and redirected your attention back to the conversation you had been having with your friend.
That didn't seem to satisfy his need for conversation, because the next thing you know he was pulling your arm so he could get you to face him.
"Can we talk? I've got somethin I've been meanin to tell ya" he said, his grip not letting up.
You looked around, your eyes searching for Rafe. You knew Topper was harmless, but you were very uncomfortable with the way he was touching you and you knew Rafe would cause a scene if he saw it.
"Topper, I really don't think it's a good idea right now" you said, plastering a convincing fake smile on your face while subtly trying to get him to let go of your arm.
Your attempt proved unsuccessful.
"Come on, don't be a bitch. Rafe doesn't even have to know about this" Topper continued to insist, downing the remaining alcohol from his cup before grabbing your other arm. "I've been meaning to confess something to you, way before you and Rafe got together, I just didn't have the courage to do it. I think you need to know how I feel" his eyes were staring at you so hopeful, like a puppy in the rain.
It made you feel a little bad, but once you saw Rafe over Topper's shoulder marching through the crowd, his face contorted in anger, you knew a fight was most probably about to go down.
"You better watch what you're going to say very carefully" Rafe threatened from behind Topper, his eyes trained on the grip the blonde had on you.
You could see Topper's demeanor change, even drunk knowing that he shouldn't have even thought about messing with Rafe's girlfriend.
"Yo man, I was just playing a little, you know how I get at parties and shit" Topper finally let go of your arms before turning around to face your boyfriend, trying to talk himself out of the shitty situation he had found himself in.
"No, no, no. I'm curious now. What was the important thing that you wanted to tell my girlfriend while I wasn't here?" Rafe crossed his arms, his stance all that more threatening.
By this moment, you had backed down from the two with your friend, watching their interaction closely. You knew Rafe was about to lose his shit any moment, and you also knew better than to get yourself involved while he was this tense.
"I was just trying to make conversation and keep her company while you were away. You know how many creeps are at these parties" Topper slurred, sniffing and searching Rafe's eyes for any indication as to what he was thinking.
"Topper, I'm going to give you one last chance to tell me what you were doing with my girlfriend before I beat your ass so hard you won't feel your body" Rafe's voice had now turned downright dangerous, which you surprisingly found hot.
"I wasn't trying to do anything, man, she's yours and I would never-" Topper couldn't finish his sentence before Rafe punched him in the face, making Topper drop down on the floor in front of you.
Rafe kneeled down over his body and started punching him repeatedly, each time repeating "Stay the fuck away from my girlfriend" until he had to be physically pulled away from him.
One look in your direction and you knew your night had come to an end. You took his hand and let him lead you to his truck, not minding the blood that had transferred to your hand.
"Are you okay?" he questioned once you were both in the safe space of his car, his breathing now back to normal.
You nodded, looking worriedly at his bloody knuckles.
"I should be asking you that" you mumbled as you took his right hand in yours, inspecting the bruises already starting to form.
He shrugged, seemingly not in any pain which was a relief to you. "I'm fine, Topper has it worse than me. I'm just glad nothing happened and I came in time"
You leaned over the console and kissed his cheek, showing him that you weren't mad at him for getting into yet another fight.
"My knight in shinning armor. What would I do without you?" you joked, but there was truth behind your words. You really didn't know what you would do without him.
"I love you" he kissed your palm, intertwining your fingers with his.
"I love you too, my big bad boy"
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nestaswinecabinet · 11 days
Text
Now That We Don't Talk (Eris Vanserra x Archeron!Reader)
Part Two of Dream Girl Evil warnings: language, slight violence(?) A/N: Apologies for how long it took me to write this. I am nothing if not a procrastinator at heart. I hope you all enjoy. Also, this will have at least one more part. I am filled with glorious inspiration. Part One - Part Two - Part Three (upcoming)
---
“Everything alright here?” Azriel says as he makes his way into the kitchen followed by Cassian and Nesta, presumably after their early morning training session. Nesta is filled with concern seeing you alone with Eris and it hits you like a wave. 
“Just peachy,” you state. Eris rolls his eyes. 
“Not peachy. How long have you all known that we are mates?”
“Oh, um you both are mates? I’ve never heard that before, where are you getting this from, Eris?” Cassian nervously rambled. He looked sideways towards Nesta, who almost rolled her eyes out of her head at his comment. 
“I know you have brain damage, Cassian, but playing dumb doesn’t become you,” Eris snapped. Cassian growled and made his way to the sink for a cup of water. 
“Yeah, great save there, Cass,” Azriel chuckles. Az’s concern hits you less forcefully then Nesta’s but you can still feel it lingering in the room. Him making his way over to sit the table with you is no coincidence. 
“I’m not good at keeping secrets. Everyone knows this,” Cassian says leaning against the sink, closer to you than he was before and now in a position to jump between you and Eris easier if needed. Nesta was still currently blocking the doorway, casually standing but you could sense her muscles were ready to pounce on Eris if needed. 
“Rhysand really does know how to pick his Inner Circle, doesn’t he? You three are about as subtle as an earthquake the way you all moved around the room to defend your sweet, little princess.”
“I told you not to call me that,” you mumble. 
“That was before you could technically be considered a princess. Get used to hearing that word more.”
“What’s that supposed to mean, Vanserra? It’s not like I’m going to the Autumn Court with you.” Eris threw his head back laughing at your comment. 
“You didn’t think I would let you stay here now knowing that you’re my mate?” Eris stepped towards you. You couldn’t feel his intentions as he got closer to you. Why couldn’t you feel him? “You are going to be my consort to the Autumn Court, you can’t be that from Velaris.”
“Who said I was going to be anything to you?” You stood up abruptly. The hairs on your neck were standing up at the fact that you couldn’t feel what Eris wanted from you. Azriel, being the ever observant Shadowsinger that he was, could tell that there was something off by your stance and stood up with you. 
“You are my mate. The job title is implied.” Now it was your turn to laugh at his comment. 
“Eris, I heard from everyone but you that you were looking for a bride. You didn’t even have the decency to tell the female you have been sleeping with for the past eighteen years yourself. You let me find out from whispering courtiers. You talk to everybody but me in crowds and you act like I don’t exist. So you can’t be surprised that I am apprehensive about the fact that you would want me in your life now.” You say, stepping towards him, “You know, in thinking about it, I can’t keep up with all your personalities, and the different lives you create for yourself. You act differently around everyone. I barely can tell who you are, let alone what you think of me. So you saying that a title is ‘implied’ is the biggest bullshit I have ever heard come out of your mouth.”
“That’s rich coming from you, princess-” Eris spat, walking closer to you. Why couldn’t feel him? 
“Stop calling me that,” you grit out. 
“-You put on airs like you don’t care what the world thinks of you. But you are the most insecure person I have ever met. You can’t even control your power enough to not get overwhelmed in rooms, not that you’ve ever displayed any power worth being overwhelmed by. You wonder why everyone outside your family hates you-”
“Eris, back down,” Cassian shouts, putting a hand to the High Lord chest to keep him from getting closer to you. Azriel moved to put his body between you and Eris. It is like your rage was blocking his feelings. All you could feel was your own anger and the rest of the Inner Circle’s worry. But nothing from him.
“- and it’s not because you don’t tolerate their pretentiousness. They couldn’t care less about what you think of them. They hate you because you are weak. The only way you gain respect amongst Fae is by having power. Feyre is the most powerful High Lady in history, Elain is a Seer, and Nesta is Lady Death incarnate. And what are you?”
“Eris!” Nest shouted. Footsteps were growing louder from the hall, and another wave of concern, from Amren, Mor, Rhys, and Feyre hit you as they got closer. They must have heard the shouting. “Enough!” 
“It doesn’t matter what I am, Eris. Because at the end of the day, I am still a better person than you,” you say choking back angry tears. Eris laughs sardonically. Your chest felt tight with the way you could barely contain your anger. Your hurt.
“Of course it matters. You may be a better person, but you are still a weak little nothing, princess,” Eris snapped.
“I said stop calling me that!” you yelled at him, and threw out a blast power at him. The gust of power that was thrown from your body knocked Eris on his ass and slid him across the floor. “I may not wield death in my hand or see the future, read minds or mist armies with the snap of my fingers,” you stood over him and placed your boot on his chest, “But I have endured horrors in the Cauldron and in life that would make grown men cower. You may call a lot of things, Eris, but you may never call me weak.” 
You pressed your foot a little harder into his chest, making him wince, before stepping over him and making your way back to your room. And it was like you could breathe again. 
— 
Eris laid on the floor staring at the ceiling in the kitchen in the House of Wind and wondered why he had just done that. Rhys, Mor, Amren, and Feyre had shown up right as your outburst happened, but Nesta and Feyre ran after you as you left.
“Wow, good job there, High Lord. Master of diplomacy you are,” Mor snarked at him. Eris growled as he sat up. 
“Don’t worry the giant gust of power my mate just hurled at me didn’t hurt at all,” Eris groaned. 
“She told you?” Amren asked. 
“More like slipped up,” Rhys said. “Feyre doesn’t like having to console crying sisters, Eris. Best not make a habit of pissing Y/N off.” 
“Feyre won’t have to trouble herself with it when Y/N is in the Autumn Court.”
“You’re hilarious, Eris. You would make a killing as a court jester,” Mor laughed and sat herself on the counter next to where Cassian settled after you took off. 
“It wasn’t a joke. When she calms down, she’ll realize that it’s best for everyone if she comes back to Autumn with me.”
“Yeah cause that little display really showed off her willingness to be around you, boy” Amren commented. Rhys watched as Eris used a towel to wipe the blood off his forehead. 
“I’ll talk to her,” Rhys says. The members of the Inner Circle whipped their heads over to Rhys. 
“Rhysand, you can’t be serious,” Mor blanches. Cassian and Azriel share a look and Amren makes her way out of the room. 
“Thank you, Rhysand. I appreciate your civility,” Eris extends a hand to the other High Lord in the room. Rhys looks at Eris’s hand skeptically before choosing to pick a piece of lint off his shirt instead. 
“I said I would talk to her, Eris. That doesn’t mean I am going to force her to go with you.”
“Rhysand, if your mate had been an Autumn Court citizen, I would not have kept them from you.” Rhys looks up at Eris, his eyes a little darker than they had been before and the room starting to hum. 
“No, you would not have, and I am not trying to keep yours from you either. But I would not have forced my mate to leave. I am giving her a choice to stay or go. Y/N hasn’t been given many choices in life. She grew up rich and her wealth was taken from her. She grew up human and was forced to become High Fae. I will not take this choice away from her too.” A collective breath seemed to be let loose at Rhys’s words.
“You would risk my wrath and the wrath of my Court? I might not send blood rubies to declare court enemies like Tarquin, but believe you me, I will never forget this insult,” Eris walked to Rhys, who folded his arms over his chest in indifference.
“Eris, quit with the dramatics, it’s too early for blood feuds. I expect you to calm yourself down by dinner,” Rhys rolled his eyes, and turned his back to Eris as he made his way out of the kitchen, the Inner Circle following closely behind him. “Oh, I know that I don’t have to remind you, but humor me: you are not to bother any of the members of my court, Y/N included. If I find out that you approached her before she was ready to speak to you, so help me Eris, I will not hesitate to send you back to your brothers in pieces.”
— 
You were sitting on your bed, hugging a pillow to your chest, when your sisters entered your room. You could feel their concern wrap around you like a warm hug. It was comforting to feel that your sisters felt for you. 
“Never seen that little trick before,” Nesta said walking into your room. Elain and Feyre were close behind her, all three settling on your bed with you. 
“Didn’t know I could do that little trick,” you mumbled. 
“Are you feeling a shift in your powers maybe?” Elain asked. She reached over and tucked a stray hair behind your ear in comfort. “My powers definitely took on a more consistent pattern the more I used them.”
“I’ve never been able to move things before. I’ve always just felt everything. But I…” you trailed off remembering how you couldn’t feel Eris right before you blasted him away from you. 
“But what?” Feyre asked. 
“I couldn’t feel him.” You looked at Nesta. Your other two sisters looked at each other in concern, while Nesta pierced your soul with her eyes. She was always the only one who could always read you. “When we started yelling, I don’t know. Maybe I blocked him out, or he blocked me. But that was the first time since coming out of the Cauldron that I didn’t feel every single emotion and intention of the people in the room.”
“I wonder if it was the mating bond,” Nesta pondered. “It does weird things sometimes. I think that’s the reason that Cassian is the only one to be able to get through to me.”
You didn’t say anything. How long had you wished that Eris knew that you two were mates? How long had you hoped that he'd find out when the bond snapped for him and then he would realize why you two were always drawn to one another? You didn’t want him to find out like this.
Recently, the more of yourself that you gave him, the less of you he seemed to want. It was platonic to him, and you could not bear to be his friend, let alone his burden. You were a duty he had to take care of.
“I can’t be his friend, Nes. I can’t. I would rather us never talk again then to be an obligation. I can’t, I won’t do it.” 
“I know it hurts. But time will heal the wounds he has caused you,” Nesta stroked your hair as spoke. 
“And what time does not heal, whiskey does well to fix,” Rhysand said, coming into the room and leaning against the door. Three Archeron sisters all turned to look at Rhys, Feyre with a smile, Nesta with a sneer, and Elain with raised brows. You refused to look anywhere that wasn’t the window across from your bed, overlooking Velaris. “He asked me to come talk to you, wants me to convince you to go to the Autumn Court with him.”
“Rhys, I don’t think now is the best time,” Feyre stated. 
“I told him that I would give you the choice on whether you stayed or if you went with him. But I must say the prospect of you going has certain political advantages that I can’t help but vocalize. If I didn’t, I would be a bad ruler.”
“Will the members of your court be anything other than pawns for you to push around your chessboard? You saw how upset he made her and yet you try to manipulate her into doing your bidding,” Nesta spits at him. 
“Nesta, that’s not fair,” Feyre retorts.
“Fair? How is it fair what he’s asking of her?”
“You know that’s not how he means it, Nesta,” Elain interjects. 
“Well then how does he mean it?”
“Nesta, seriously, you’re being cruel,” Feyre mutters. 
“What did you mean, Rhys?” you pipe up. Your other three sisters look at you as they stop talking amongst themselves. 
“I meant that if you say no, I will not argue with you and that I will respect your decision and defend you against Eris. But having you in his court, while not as a spy so to say, it would be nice to have an inside ear in the Autumn Court. While Eris may be an ally, it is always nice to have someone that I trust implicitly watching the moves of the other High Lords.”
“You don’t want her to be a spy, but you are asking her to spy? Ah yes the sense you make, Rhys,” Nesta rolls her eyes. 
It made sense to have you there. To watch him. Maybe you could steel yourself against him and you would be fine. Seeing him in his natural habitat might make you idolize him less. All you had to cling to now were stolen whispers and romantic moments. Perhaps witnessing his cruelty or his demanding demeanor would take away the rose colored lens you had been looking at him through.
He changed the way he spoke to you, the way he treated you, in an instant. Why could you not do the same? Shroud yourself and your intentions in mystery while you were there, stop wearing your heart on your sleeve, and maybe it would be easier for you to forget that he didn’t love you back. Being in a new place would help you forget that you are the outcast sister here in the Night Court. That your existence here was at the mercy of your sister and her mate. You may not fully belong to the Autumn Court either, but at least you will have chosen to go there, rather be stuck in Velaris because you don’t belong anywhere else.
“I’ll do it.”
Eris sat in the kitchen, legs crossed and leaning back against his chair. Mates. How could he be so stupid as to not realize it? He was always drawn to you. He was always wanting more of you. He could never get enough of you. 
Why hadn’t the bond snapped for him?
It snapped for you so quickly after meeting him. And he had waited his whole existence to find his mate, yet fate tried to keep you from him a while longer. Was he not good enough for you? Well, of course he wasn’t, he knew the answer to that. People may think you the most Wicked of the sisters, for your blank stares and accusatory words. But he was wicked by nature. His father had made sure of that. 
He stood up from his chair and started pacing in front of the large window overlooking the city. He could only hope that you would go with him. Though he would understand if you chose to stay. He hadn’t been kind to you. Ever really. He had used you for his own satisfaction, he admits, but he would treat you with kindness if you came with him now. Give you a reason you choose him. You had been his first choice when his council had asked him for prospects of a wife. And he supposed he now understood why your name had been the first one he thought of. 
“I have conditions if I should choose to join you,” you said into the room. He hadn’t heard you enter, and was started before he turned around. He put his shoulders back as he crossed his arms to face you. 
“Conditions? This isn’t a negotiation.”
“It will be if you want me to consider leaving my family for you,” you crossed your arms to mimic him. Eris rolled his eyes at your action. 
“Fine, what would you like me to accommodate for you?”
“I want to be able to come back to Velaris at my leisure. I will not go there and be held prisoner for you to deem when I can and can’t visit my family.”
“Done,” Eris slowly walked towards you. You shifted from foot to foot as he got closer to you.
“I want to bring my cat.” Eris chuckled. 
“You have a cat? Ha, of course you do. Sure the little beast can come.”
“I want new dresses and jewels. As many as I can get my hands on,” you shake your head at him before looking up to meet his copper eyes. He had gotten much closer to you than you expected. 
“Fine, no seamstress or jeweler will be safe in your presence. Clean them dry, darling,” Eris smirked at you. “Anything else?”
“Two more things,” you said. You rolled your shoulders back, and squared yourself to him. “I want to continue my combat training while I am with you. I want someone who will train me like Cass and Az do. They will not train me as if I am a girl; they will train me to be a warrior.”
“Easy, I will train you myself. Now, what’s your last request, dear mate?” You bristled at his choice of words. Gods, Eris loved to be the reason you squirmed. He wondered if he could make you squirm in other ways. 
“You have a month to convince me to stay. If you cannot be kind or I do not like how you live, I will be free to leave at the end of the month. I will do my best to give you and your court the benefit of the doubt, but if the end of the month comes, and I wish to leave, for any reason, you will not stop me.”
Eris hated it. He never wished to be parted from you again now knowing who you are to him. Just because the bond hadn’t snapped for him, dodn’t mean he was any less possessive than if it had. You were meant to be with him. And he didn’t know what he would do if you left him. Eris cleared his throat uncomfortably. He would just have to convince you to stay then. 
“Well, my dear Y/N, I can acquiesce to those requests. Go pack then. We leave for Autumn in the morning.”
---
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hendersister · 9 months
Text
everybody knows
summary: your little brother dustin finds out that you're dating steve.
pairing: steve harrington x henderson!sister reader
title 🎵: everybody knows by leonard cohen
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You’re in the middle of your lunch break from your job at Waldenbooks. Instead of going to the food court, you went to Scoops Ahoy to see Steve. As soon as you arrived, Steve told Robin that he was taking a fifteen minute break and you two went into the back room. 
Before you could even ask Steve how his day was going, he leans in and kisses you. You two have been making out for the past ten minutes, barely stopping for a breath. It’s been like this for the past couple of days, ever since you and Steve admitted your feelings to one another.
Things have been a little hectic for you since Dustin got home from camp so you’re keeping your newly formed relationship on the downlow for now. When you and Steve are around other people you pretend you're just friends and that nothing’s changed, and then the minute you're alone it turns into this. You plan to start telling people once things are more settled.
“HEY STEVE! YOU’LL NEVER GUESS WHAT JUS-”
Suddenly Dustin comes rushing into the backroom. You and Steve immediately pull away from each other, but it’s too late. 
“OH MY GOD! OH MY GOD! OH MY GOD!” Dustin freaks out.
He quickly leaves.
“Do you think he saw us?” Steve jokes, trying to lighten the mood.
“Shit,” you curse to yourself.
You follow your little brother out and Steve follows you. You manage to convince Dustin to stay at Scoops Ahoy so you can explain. To try to help cool things over, Steve gives Dustin a free sundae. The three of you go to one of the booths to talk.
“What the hell guys!?” your little brother groans.
“Dustin, I’m really sorry you had to see that,” you apologize, “ Steve and I-”
“We’re dating,” Steve says bluntly.
Dustin shakes his head, stunned. He knew that you and Steve were friends, but he didn’t think you were that close. Dustin never imagined that you and Steve would actually start dating. 
“How long has this been going on?” Dustin questions you.
“Only a couple of days. You were still away at camp,” you tell your little brother.
“Why didn’t you say anything?” Dustin asks.
“I mean Steve and I just started dating. No one really knows about us yet,” you answer.
“You’re like the first person we’ve told,” Steve tries.
“You didn’t tell me! I walked in on you guys!” Dustin points out.
“Yeah well you would have been the first person we told,” Steve replies.
Your little brother shrugs.
“I’m sorry that you found out this way but we weren’t purposely keeping it from you. Steve and I… we got a lot closer when we both started working at the mall and it just like turned into something more over time. We didn’t rush into this,” you try to explain.
“Yeah man. I really care about her,” Steve tells Dustin sincerely.
Dustin is quiet for a beat. And then he slowly starts nodding his head.
“Okay fine,” he sighs, coming to terms with it.
You and Steve exchange a small look.
“But don't let me walk in on you guys again! I don’t wanna see any of that,” Dustin warns.
“It won’t happen again,” you nod.
“Try knocking next time, Henderson!” Steve rolls his eyes.
You glance up at the clock. Crap! Your lunch break is about to end.
“I need to get back to the store,” you announce.
You rise to your feet. Then you put your hand on Dustin’s face, covering his eyes, as you lean in to kiss Steve.
“See you after work,” you smile.
You pull away from Steve and take your hand off Dustin’s face.
“I’ll see you tonight at home, dork!” you tell your little brother before you walk away.
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juuuulez · 7 months
Text
Capulet, Part Two.
info: Carl Grimes x Saviour!Reader, female reader, father-figure Negan, enemies to lovers, forbidden romance, no use of (y/n) because immersion.
summary: During your first visit to Alexandria, when Carl misfires a gun, you’re instructed to “babysit” him. This does not go very well.
previous | next
I’m glad everyone liked the first part!! This one is definitely more juicy. Kids being kids. Writing the next part now, let me know if you have any particular requests!
Also (finally) titled!! Drawing heavily on Romeo and Juliet, except… more spiteful at the beginning.
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A few days later, and you’re back.
The town of Alexandria is actually quite nice, when you aren’t being cooped up in a cell.
Your fellow Saviours seem to think so too, exploring the place, taking supplies they deem useful for the Sanctuary. After all, there’s mouths to feed, therefore you’ve stopped feeling bad for all these communities you bleed dry.
Well, you felt a little bad last night.
The lineup was rough, it always is. You hadn’t seen the brunt of it, instead sitting safe in the RV where Negan had all but interrogated you regarding your time locked up; coming from a place of concern for your well-being. But you stepped out just as dawn was beginning to hit, and saw the aftermath.
It was just for a few seconds, to retrieve a weapon from Dwight, but you felt a twinge of guilt as Negan taunted that poor boy.
At least he wasn’t wearing the stupid hat anymore.
Whatever, it didn’t matter. At least that’s what you told yourself. Guilt had no place in the apocalypse, especially not for the Saviours, a group of well earned apex predators in this bleak world.
That’s how you saw it.
You oversee the work of your people whilst Negan is talking with Rick. Everybody respects you.. or maybe everybody is scared of you. Scared of your father. Either way, it works.
You’re comfortable as a leader. Somebody who can give orders without hesitation. At the start, there was resistance. Who wanted to be ordered around by a teenage girl? But eventually everything fell into place, and people realised that you were a central part to this operation.
Then the sound of a gunshot rings through the air, putting everybody on edge. Weapons suddenly unholstered, dropping whatever menial task they were completing.
You command them to stand down with a wave of the hand, going to investigate yourself.
Fortunately enough, the situation has already been handled.
Or mostly handled.
“Just who I wanted to see.” Negan says with his usual prowess, however it’s dimmed by an underlying irritation. He brings you further into the room with a gloved hand on your shoulder.
He positions you there like a prize, something valuable. Or maybe a dangerous weapon. A constant show of ‘look at what’s mine, look at what she can do.’ You quite like that.
“Now, it appears that young Grimes is too trigger-happy for his own good,” Negan continues, to which you finally notice Carl standing in the middle of the room, “So why don’t you babysit him for me, darling?”
The boy is practically seething. That same expression you’d seen at the lineup, pure anger and rebellion.
You could feel yourself beginning to smile.
“Of course,” You agree, a grin spreading across your lips, “I’d appreciate a tour, to see if anything here interests me.”
There’s no reply. Carl glares at you, then shoots a pleading look at his father, but to no avail. Rick nods his head in the direction of the door, and you feel like you’ve just won the lottery. This was going to be good.
Now, you didn’t enjoy toying with peoples emotions, per-say. But getting them all riled up sure was fun.
And a teenage boy? This was like a gift from above.
Grown men grew tired of your commanding nature, they’d get violent, speak out of line. It was a dangerous game, one that you loved. Like a cat and mouse, or Icarus flying too close to the sun.
A teenage boy was much more in your ballpark.
“You play sports?” You ask Carl, who is walking a few paces behind you, begrudgingly following despite the fact he was meant to be showing you around. But you didn’t mind.
He doesn’t answer.
You turn to face him, shooting him a backwards glare of what the hell is your problem. “What, you took a vow of silence, or something?” It’s snarky, immature, prodding the bear.
But it works.
“No, I don’t play sports.” Carl answers reluctantly, his tone flat and unamused. It’s becoming more and more evident that when you’re in power like this, in control, you can be a nightmare.
You don’t bother to suppress your grin of satisfaction, turning back away from him, “Yeah, didn’t think so, stringbean. Bet I’ve got more muscle mass than you.”
This must do something, as suddenly Carl has closed the few paces between you, and is blocking your path from continuing. He’s in your face, closer than comfortable, but you love it.
“What the hell’s your problem?” He asks, clearly angry at your snide little comments. That righteous attitude is back. “You can’t come in here, and tell everybody what to do. We’re gonna fight back, and when we do, you’ll be sorry.”
You give him a firm shove, letting Carl stumble a few feet back, “Yeah, how’d that go for you back there, huh? Aim much?”
It’s a low blow, you know that, which is why it feels so goddamn good.
He opens his mouth to speak, but you interrupt him.
“Didn’t shoot me at the satellite station, either. I’m starting to think you’re more harmless than you’re letting on.”
“I’m not exactly in the interest of murdering children,” Carl retorts angrily, “What are you, twelve?”
“I’m seventeen!” You yell back at him, walking swiftly past the boy, but making sure to harshly bump your shoulders together. “Now show me your armoury. You’ve got something of mine.”
You’re walking too quickly for Carl to shoot back a comment, and he needs to awkwardly skip in order to catch up. This time he takes a few strides forward, making the effort to walk just fast enough to stay in front of you.
He wants to be in charge.
Luckily, you love to be petty.
As the pair of you reach the armoury, you swiftly side-step Carl, entering the room first, much to his dismay. You’re eyes are scanning the shelves, rows and rows of guns and weaponry, with one thing in mind. The bat.
“Too bad we’re confiscating all your guns, this is quite the collection,” You comment, finding a supply sheet to glance over, “Good job on that one, by the way. Aren’t you helpful?”
Carl essentially ignores your sarcasm, speaking from the other side of the room, “Looking for something?”
You turn, a momentary flash of confusion on your face, until you realise that he’s got it. The metal bat clutched in one hand, held up tauntingly. When you take a step forward to retrieve it, he only takes a step back.
“That’s not funny.” You say, a sense of agitation in your tone, that dominant and teasing persona gone in an instant.
It only causes Carl to grin, taking pleasure in this momentary inch of power he’s gained.
“You even know how to play baseball?” He asks, switching the bat into his dominant hand, pretending to slowly swing it.
“I do, actually,” You snap, reaching out to finally grasp the metal bat, taking it from his grip unceremoniously, “Wanna see? I can use your skull as the ball.”
This works to shut him up, judging by how Carl’s eyes narrow into a glare, but he doesn’t dare to say anything. You take this as a victory, once again knocking shoulders as you leave the small space, not bothering to shut the door behind you.
You’re not even a few meters down the street before there are footsteps again, Carl still following you, despite wanting otherwise. It makes that malicious grin to return.
“Aren’t you obedient?” You quip, not even bothering to look back at him as you speak, as if he isn’t worth the time. It’s a power trip, one you’re addicted to, one Carl is unknowingly feeding into. Or, maybe he does know, but can’t do anything about it.
Carl scoffs, “Coming from you. Do you always do everything Negan tells you to?”
It’s smart, getting you to roll your eyes in displeasure, that metal bat swinging by your side as you walk. “It’s called being a good soldier, like you would understand.”
“Yeah? Soldier, or pet?” He continues, and you can basically hear the grin in his voice.
The fuck does he know?
You finally spin around, grip tightening ever so slightly on the bat. Control is slowly slipping through your fingers, this stupid back and forth game beginning to get on your nerves, despite being the instigator.
“You wanna talk about pet?” You spit, closing in on his personal space, “Rick tells you to murder twenty people, and you do it? That’s called being a little bitch, okay, daddy’s boy?”
This works, as Carl’s face twists into a look of anger, his fists clenching at his sides.
But you continue, “This stupid group has had this coming for a long time. There’s no such thing as being the good guys, you’re just another bunch of stupid pricks, who need to be put in their place.”
It snaps something inside of Carl, because suddenly he’s giving you a harsh shove, where you stumble a few feet backwards. You mirror his childish temper, throwing your body at him with equal force, where the two of you awkwardly wrestle in the middle of the street.
You attempt to gain leverage, steeling your feet into the ground, bending your knees. Then, out of nowhere, you’re raising your arm with the bat, ready to try and dislocate his shoulder, or something. Anything. Just to show that you aren’t weak.
But before you can swing, there’s resistance, and you snap out of this little squabble to realise that somebody else is holding your bat.
“The hell are you doin’, girl?”
Negan swiftly lifts the bat from your grip, holding it at an arms length. You let go of Carl, whipping around to glare at the older man.
“He’s being a total jagoff!” You shout, twisting to see a similar look of discontent on Carl’s face, like he’s itching to leap back into your little fight.
It’s no use, because then Negan is holding your shoulder, giving you a gentle push in the opposite direction, “Truck, now. We’re making our departure.”
And you listen, despite everything telling you to continue. To prove yourself, maintain that power.
To make matters worse, Carl has taken this experience as some sort of mental victory, yelling out from the footpath, “Daddy’s girl!”
You can only turn, angrily giving him the finger as you storm off towards the gates, but it acts as fuel to the fire. Getting sick of that stupid expression, you turn back away, footsteps quickening in an attempt to seperate yourself from the ever so slightly humiliating experience.
Next time you’ll get him.
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1-800-hwahui · 1 year
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three men and a slut
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member  |  seungcheol x vernon x chan x fem reader genre  |  smut word count  |  ~2,700 warnings  |  foursome, car sex, dom!cheol, sub!vernon, sub!chan, switch!reader, pet names (princess, puppy, baby, good girl), name calling (slut, whore), possessive cheol, fingering, oral (m receiving), exhibitionism, voyeurism, humiliation, degradation, a little manhandling, some choking, a teeny bit of objectification ?, masturbation (m), creampie (they don't discuss birth control so BE SAFE), no mentions of alcohol but it's kinda implied they're a little tipsy, they're still aware enough to consent though!!, there's no clear relationships but it's mentioned that cheol & reader used to hook up, this is just really rough and nasty car sex, if i missed any please lmk! notes  |  lowercase intended. this is technically the first threesome (well- foursome) i've written so feedback would be really helpful! also i don't usually write sub!idol just bc i personally am not experienced being a dom so that's why i usually write sub!reader, but for this i wanted to try writing it :) also don't laugh at my title i think i'm very clever and funny. this is written completely targeted at @duhnova i hope you suffer (lovingly) merry christmas heathen <3 please note since this was written with nova in mind it may have some things that not everybody enjoys so don't feel obligated to read if it's not something you're into! everybody has different tastes. for those that read it, i hope you like it hehe - ���� june
minors dni - you will be blocked.
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“chan will be here– soon,” you call behind you, stumbling over a crack in the sidewalk as you walk to go sit at a bench outside the club. 
vernon follows behind you, his jacket slung over his shoulder. “are you… coming back to my place?”
“mhm!” you giggle, sloppily pressing your lips against his. your tongue delves into his mouth as he whimpers, his hands falling to your hips and squeezing, pulling you against him so you can feel he's already half hard.
with public indecency charges the furthest thing from your mind, you’re almost considering undressing him right here and now, until a pair of bright white lights engulfs you and a shrill honk sounds behind you.
reluctantly you pull away from vernon, and he quickly reaches out to wipe the little bit of drool from your mouth as you turn towards the black suv.
“hiii, channie!” you sing out as you fling open the back door, vernon teetering after you.
he smiles, calling your name. "so where am i taking you now? your house, or vernon's?"
"mine," vernon says, helping you into the car with a grin before sliding into the passenger seat himself.
the drive starts out fine. until you look up at vernon in the front seat, hooded eyes watching the streetlights go by, and you begin thinking to yourself how pretty his face would be when you sit on his cock.
so you tell him so.
"you wanna… what?" he says, turning around in his seat to face you, his cheeks dusted with pink.
"well, it's not like i haven't before," you frown, scooching to the edge of your seat so you can lean forward to hear him better.
vernon sighs. "not in front of chan, though."
“you know i can hear you guys, right? i’m literally right here,” chan mutters, his eyes glued to the road. “now sit back in the seat and put your seatbelt on, or i’ll pull over.”
“well, you can join,” you sulk, but you slide back into the seat. “you don’t have to be so grouchy about it. do you want me to suck your dick? you probably have a really nice dick, too, would probably fit so nice in my mouth."
vernon whines about something in the front seat, but you can’t hear him, so you lean forward again to hear him. chan sees you out of the corner of his eye and glares at you, turning off at the next freeway exit and pulling into the first empty parking lot.
“can you just– do whatever it is you need to do so i can take you home safely?” he asks, exasperated.
“sure, if you don’t mind watching. or participating,” you say, already climbing up over the center console to sit yourself on vernon’s lap before chan can say anything.
you’re already starting to grind down onto him, but vernon stills your hips and looks over at chan, then back at you. “baby, we can wait til we get back home. don't make him watch if he doesn't want to."
you pout. “no, i want him to watch,” you whine, sliding your hands along vernon’s arms. “want him to see how good you make me feel.”
you look at vernon, and vernon looks over at chan. he coughs awkwardly, his face a bright shade of red that's only half visible in the moonlight. "i… never said i didn't wanna watch," he says finally.
"see! told you," you tell vernon, smacking his shoulder lightly. 
you turn back to face them, both their eyes watching you intently.
"so. who wants to do what first?"
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while you’ve been caught up with the two men in the car with you, at the other end of the parking lot, seungcheol is just locking up at his closing shift.
the lot is empty, except for one car a few rows down from his, which is… odd, considering it’s after three in the morning. and when he looks closer, he notices they’ve got their hazard lights on. 
so of course, he can’t just leave without checking it out. somebody might be in trouble.
and somebody is in trouble. you, for cumming without permission, as vernon’s fingers are deep inside your cunt and you lean across the seat to bob your head up and down on chan’s lap.
“can feel you throbbing on my fingers,” vernon moans. he leans his head forward to kiss your hip, but it quickly turns into a bite, his teeth skimming over your ass as he sucks deep bruises into your skin. 
seungcheol is just about to knock on the window and ask if whoever’s inside needs help, when his jaw falls open at the sight in front of him. oh, the way his eyes go wide when he sees your ass, plastered against the passenger side window, your dripping pussy spread open on display with vernon’s fingers shoved into you for anyone who might walk by to see; your pretty lips wrapped around the driver’s girthy cock, spit pooling around the base of it from how hard you’re sucking.
you’re all so consumed with each other, drinking in how pretty you all look all fucked out already, that you don’t even notice your friend watching until vernon moans, rolling his head to the side and seeing seungcheol standing outside, face contorted with emotion.
vernon leans over to tap your shoulder to get your attention, then motions to the window, finally sliding his fingers out of you and wiping your wetness on your breasts.
you turn around, drool trickling from the corners of your mouth as you wipe your hand across your face, smearing it across your chin. you break into a grin and sit back onto vernon’s lap, reaching behind you to open his door. “hi, cheollie.”
chan looks up, breathing heavily as he struggles to recover from the feeling of your perfect, wet little mouth on him. “yo-you know him?” he pants.
“we… used to hook up,” seungcheol says, and if you weren’t so distracted by a million other things you might have noticed the cold tone to his voice. “looks like you’ve moved on, huh, princess?”
“and what if i have?” you giggle, raising an eyebrow daringly.
he tsks, his features morphing into a look you know all too well. “if i’d have known i’d see you tonight, i would’ve brought your collar, puppy,” he says with a sly grin that has vernon and chan’s mouths falling open in shock.
you sit back, placing your hands on vernon's chest. "well, you can join in, too. don't be a brat now, cheollie."
he scoffs. "princess, i think the only brat here is you."
you roll your eyes and point to the back door as you wrap your hand around vernon's cock, slowly beginning to move up and down. "door's unlocked. take it or leave it."
seungcheol just smirks, taking off his jacket and yanking open the door to slide into the backseat.
vernon whimpers as you curl your hand around him, the tips of your manicured nails gently scraping down his length as he bucks up into your hand.
you bring your other hand up to his cheek to kiss him. "you're the lucky one tonight, darling," you tell him. "you get to fuck me."
he groans, and he swears he'll cum on the spot, but then you're sinking down onto his cock and the car fills with his pretty sounds.
as he starts to find a rhythm, you lean back over and reattach your mouth to chan’s cock, painfully hard from so much happening all at once. precum drools from his tip, red and throbbing, and he sighs in relief when you finally begin to swirl your tongue around him.
cheol positions himself in the backseat, muscular legs spread wide as he watches three pretty little sluts whining in the front seat.
he's fine with sitting back and observing for now. he's fucked you enough times, had you in so many positions before, that it's almost nice to have the chance to see someone else ruin you.
but of course, both you and he know that no one makes you cum like he does; even these two cute men you have fawning over you every move, they can't make you scream their names like you would his.
so for now he sits back, patiently waiting for his turn, so he can show these two what it really means to give someone pleasure.
"i'm so close, bab–princess," vernon moans, correcting himself automatically after hearing the names seungcheol called you by earlier.
you clench around him, not used to hearing the familiar word on his lips.
"please, m'bout to cum, can i…" he pants, "…inside? please, i–"
"no."
the deep, stern voice that comes from the backseat is so unexpected, vernon's hips stutter, his orgasm falling away in a matter of seconds.
"you don't get to cum inside," cheol says, finally moving to unbuckle his pants and slip them onto the floor. "that's my job, and my job only." his hard cock slaps against his stomach, aching at the feeling of finally being freed from his pants.
"come on back here, slut," he says gruffly, motioning with two fingers. the same fingers you've had stuffed in your mouth, your cunt, every one of your holes, and that you can't help but imagine cumming on again– even after you've cum so many times already.
you whine but you comply, lifting your hips and letting vernon's cock slip out of you as he lets out a long, low groan.
he twists around in his seat, watching you climb back into the backseat.
"well, what are we supposed to do now?" he whines, gripping his cock with one hand.
"watch," seungcheol barks out, and to your surprise, vernon obeys, sitting back in his seat without complaining, his neck craned behind him to see what you're doing.
cheol grabs you by your shoulders and manhandles you into the seat on all fours, one hand wrapped around the back of your neck.
you wiggle your ass and he gives it a smack, so loud it cuts through the air.
"you ready, little brat?" he growls, rubbing at your skin where his slap left a mark.
"ple-ase?" you whimper, exaggerating the word. it's nowhere near as much begging as he'd usually require, but he's still a guest in this car, so he lets it go. if you ever call him for another late-night fuck, he'll be sure to make you beg twice as hard to make up for it then.
with one hand still grasping your neck, he uses his other hand to line himself up with you, finally pushing into you and bottoming out with one thrust.
he laughs at the way you whine, your hands gripping onto the edge of the seat. "forgotten what it's like to have a real cock in you, hm?" he teases.
you vaguely register vernon whimpering from the front seat, and out of the corner of your eye you can see his hand jerking up and down rapidly, no doubt building himself back up to the orgasm that cheol ruined just minutes ago.
cheol doesn't move, so you begin pushing your hips back against his, setting your own pace as he simply sits there, letting you fuck yourself on him.
but, as you're used to with him, he only allows you to do this for a minute or two before he's gripping your neck more tightly and thrusting into you.
you yelp at the sudden change of pace, your head falling forward as you hang onto the seat beneath you for dear life.
"you like it like this, don't you?" he groans, his hips slamming against yours so hard you're sure they'll leave your ass bruised when he’s finished. "my little whore, so greedy for a nice, thick cock, you'll do anything, won't you?"
you know he's expecting an answer, but his brutal pace barely allows you time to breathe, let alone speak. so all you can do is whimper in agreement, trying your best to nod but getting lost in the motion of his perfectly angled thrusts that have your knees shaking.
"three of us here with our own personal slut, to use however we want," he continues, giving your ass another hard slap that makes you clench around him.
with quite a bit of effort, you manage to lift your head to see how your other partners are doing.
vernon is still turned around, intensely focused on watching you, and he still has his hand around his cock, pumping furiously. his eyes dart back and forth between your cunt, where cheol is relentlessly fucking into you, and your face, where your features are probably scrunched up in pleasure.
chan must've just cum, and for a second you're disappointed you missed it– you would've loved to have seen the pretty faces he makes when his orgasm overtakes him. but then you see the way his head falls back against the headrest, his chest heaving as he tries to catch his breath, and you're just happy you get to see him like this afterwards. both his hand and the steering wheel in front of him are covered in thick, white ropes.
one particularly well-timed thrust brings your attention back to the man fucking you, your arms buckling and you fall to your elbows, back arched and ass in the air.
"are you gonna cum, little slut?" he coos, his voice deceivingly sweet. "go on, princess, cum all over my cock."
and like magic you feel your walls contract at his words, an orgasm you didn't even see coming hitting you with so much force you nearly fall off the seat. 
it feels like your high lasts forever, wave after wave of immense pleasure slamming into you as cheol fucks you through your orgasm, not once letting up.
he leans over you, wrapping one muscular arm around your body and holding you close. "you still want me to cum inside?" he breathes into your ear, and you nod rapidly, humming out a 'yes' as best you can.
"p-please, ch-cheollie…" you murmur, your eyes squeezed shut as you struggle to recover. "wanna f-feel you. wanna be f-full of you."
"good girl." you can feel him smile against your skin before he lets go, sitting back up and bringing both his hands to your hips, giving him more momentum to push himself into you.
every thrust starts hitting deeper than the last, a telltale sign he's getting close, too.
with a guttural moan he buries his cock in you one last time, pushing in all the way to the hilt before you hear him let go and you can feel each rope of thick cum that he pumps into you.
when he's finally finished cumming, he lets out a long exhale, his hands gliding over your body soothingly. he stays inside you for another minute before he pulls out, his cum already beginning to leak out of you, spilling down your trembling thighs. immediately you push your fingers into yourself to keep it in, and cheol grins. "mm. good, obedient whore," he coos, the sweetness in his voice no longer fake as he leaves one more playful smack to your aching rear.
you look up to see vernon, who came all over himself, his shirt stained with white as he sits in the passenger seat, eyes fluttering shut.
chan, having gotten over his orgasm earlier, is pouting in the driver's seat, complaining about how he's going to have to deep-clean his car again after it's been thoroughly covered in cum.
and finally, cheol. he slips his pants back on, struggling a bit in the cramped space, then opens the back door and hops out of the car.
he nods at the two in the front. "nice meeting you. now take good care of her."
vernon opens his mouth to say something, but quickly closes it, deciding not to. 
seungcheol waves behind him as he walks across the lot to his car.
"you know where to find me if you want me again."
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sugarmouchie · 5 months
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.. EVERYBODY KNOWS THAT I’M A GOOD GIRL, OFFICER !
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◟⪩⪨ summary ! after finally capturing you and visiting your dorm for what seemed like eternity now, he’s realizing that he’s in love with you ; basically just a short fic of wrio being a sweetheart ^^
◟⪩⪨ warnings ! gn! reader, the title is just a reference to a song dw, wriothesley being confusing, he changes your clothes lol, fluff, no use of y/n except for once, very self indulgent, i think that’s all lmk if i missed anything <3
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minutes turned into hours and hours turned into days, days turned into weeks and weeks turned into months.
that was the absurd amount of time that took wriothesley to finally lock you up.
but here he was, oblivious to your moves and acts, hiding your facade with a gentle smile, which is the reason why almost everyone in the fortress claimed that you were one of the nicest criminals here.
it was almost as if you didn’t do anything wrong at all.
tonight, the dark vibrancy of the clouds near its nightly leave, the stars beginning to take over the sky’s surface.
here he was, sitting next to you on the rough surface of the so-called “bed” that you were sleeping in, when in reality this “bed” was made of full on metal!
“how do you manage to sleep like this?” he suddenly begins.
hmm… maybe because you can’t sleep anywhere else?
“i don’t know, i used to be known for being a heavy sleeper, no matter the area.”
“so you can just flat out sleep on the grass?”
“okay, maybe not.”
he chuckled.
so that’s why everyone’s so fond of you, your gentle facade and your beautiful laughter that could be the number one thing that would top a movie off if you were in it.
as the days passed by into more interesting days that suddenly had you more motivation to even do things in the fortress, wriothesley began to notice how less awkward you were being with him, and how you weren’t as shy and hesitant as you used to be.
as soon as fun things start, they end too quickly, as well.
furthermore, some things can go bad, just like how fruits can go rotten as soon as they’re not taken care of as much.
because knowing wriothesley, he was practically the top one procrastinator in the world.
in this situation, wriothesley wasn’t really doing his job on checking up on you unless he hasn’t been seeing you in sight almost every where. sometimes, as much as he didn’t want to, every time you were not in sight near your dorm, he usually got nervous and began to scold you.
…and he instantly did what he had to do.
“where were you?” he asked in a what seemed like an aggravated tone.
“relax, i was playing in the pankration ring earlier after i grabbed food.” you replied, there you were again, acting as if everything was okay when you almost gagged and vomited at the purple appearance of the food you were served, which you practically had to gulp down in one go, if you were that hungry atleast.
and of course, there were times when wriothesley just randomly decided to be the confusing man he is and instantly switch up just to flirt with you.
he was one to make sure that you believed that he had a little something in his slightly cold heart for you.
“you still do that?” he chuckles “that’s cute.”
“what?”
“wanna go out today?”
…confusing guy.
you never even hesitated to say yes to him whenever he offered to take you somewhere out of the rancid mess of the fortress.
he only ever rarely did this, though.
after your little “appointment” that you had with him, you felt like you were rejuvenated once again.
but why does it still feel like wriothesley’s eyes were on you the entire time rather than just paying attention to what you two were buying in this absurdly small shop?
don’t think too much of it, though. all he wants to do is commit for his wrongdoings for you, after all.
as much as he knows how confusing he can be, he knows who you are.
he knows that you prefer cream cheese over butter, he knows that you don’t like matcha flavored tea, and he almost knows that your whole gentle facade is just an act for him to like you.
and it’s all just an act to be one of the nicest criminals in the fortress, too.
but who was he to care, when all he wanted to do was take care of you?
…and he only ever took you out to show you his empathy for you.
why can’t you just realize he’s in love with you?
on the final day, your release.
“wriothesley!” you yelp out, feeling his frozen hands pull off your dirty prison uniform’s shirt.
“what? i do this with everyone, you’re not special, sweetheart.”
now that was clearly a lie. you were the only one he had fully taken care of like this. after all, he cared for you like you weren’t even a criminal in the first place, that you didn’t even do anything wrong in the first place.
sigh.
“wrio.”
“i don’t wanna leave this place if it means i’m leaving you here, without me!” you frowned.
he fully knows who you are now.
that whole gentle facade you always put on quickly faded away as soon as your ego went soaring through the roof when you implied that he couldn’t live without you.
that’s the y/n he wants to see.
he chuckles.
finally.
his fingers shaking in anticipation as he clothed you into the outfit he bought for you last night when you were sleeping, he leans up to place his lips on yours.
“you won’t. i won’t leave you.”
~
@sugarmouchie - do not copy/translate/repost my works on other platforms. 🤍
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sarahsartistportfolio · 3 months
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For my followers who are specifically following me for Genshin content here are my plans/ideas going forward
First of all I will never ever write an imposter! AU
It doesn't interest me in the slightest. I have no desire to write my favorite characters trying to hunt me down and kill me. I'll never write it.
also I write for all my girly girls. Any genshin piece I write will always be AFAB/female reader. I write for the girly girls, the sub girls, the girls who love pink and dresses, the dainty girls. I write for you. So if you're also a high femm girly you will love my goddess reader.
and and I don't want to write a full on yandere cult au. I like the idea of all the characters being transfixed, fascinated by you. Like everybody loves you but they're not all just willing to throw their own morals away to follow your command. A nice balance is what I want. Like everyone wants your attention, wants your love but not everybody is willing to die/kill for you(expect Childe in every universe he's down bad for you)
Some scenarios I have in my head already
Um I have already in the works a really long Wanderer smut piece. You probable still wont see it for the next few weeks because I want it to be very cleaned up and polished. I want to put a lot of effort in it. Its Wanderer having some dubious intentions and trying to manipulate you into sleeping with him hehe
What I also want to do, I think it will be more organized on AO3. Is I want to just make a fic that's just titled like SAGAU: Cyno ficlets/ um something lol And it will just be out of order chapters that just focus on CynoXGoddess reader or you know insert character here XGoddess reader.
Like I want to write
Cyno's first time meeting Goddess you
Petting Tighnari's ears and him shamelessly pinning for your attention because he knows you love to pet him
Childe's worship towards you
Falling asleep on Xiao's lap(Cyno too!)
Jealous Lyney !!!
You giving favoritism to some characters and gifting them a second vision!
You've heard of calling the characters a good boy/girl but what about THEM calling you a good girl🥰🥰🥰
Yae Miko putting me/you into sub space if anyone can do it it would be her🥺
Similar to A Rumor Spreads but this time the rumor is that you want to have a baby lol BONUS the rumor gets a little twisted and now people believe that you are already pregnant
Lyney discovers that speaking french/Fontainian to you makes you weak and he weaponizes this against you
Venti....eating us out...that's it
Putting a little bell collar and bow on Tighnari's tail 🥰
KAZUHA...TEACHING US HOW TO KISS?? YES PLEASE OMG
also platonic Nahida and Furina scenarios because they're my bffs
EDIT I thought of some more
You confess to Albedo you've never experienced an orgasm before and he offers to run a few experiments on you to help you out
👏👏👏 You and Venti fucking in his church oh yes yes yes 😵
Poor Tighnari looks so miserable and frustrated during his rut. Why dont we...offer to help him out you know. As his beloved and ever so kind god. Why dont we offer to be his cute little fleshlight to help relieve him during this time hm?❤
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blue-slxt · 7 months
Text
Our Song Cord: Like I've Never Seen The Sky Before
(Chapter 6)
🔞Minors Do Not Interact🔞
A/N: We've made it to the end! Thank you to everybody that's shown me support on this series! It's been a crazy ride since this is my longest story to date, but I'm happy with how it turned out. There's lots of baby fluff because I think it's cute. I hope you all enjoy it too. This is also very lightly proofread, so if you see any mistakes, no you didn't. Every chapter title is a reference to a song, so if you know the song, you get a cookie. I really really appreciate feedback so comments and reblogs are encouraged! All characters are aged up.
Series Masterlist
Previous Part
Pairing: Neteyam x Fem!Omatikaya!Reader
Warnings: Angst, Fluff, Lots of Baby Fluff, Soft Domestic Neteyam, Smut, P in V, Mentions of Breeding, Mentions of Knotting, Oral (F receiving), Fingering, Making Out, Scenting, Mentions of Pregnancy, I think that's it
Word Count: 7.1k
Summary: Neteyam confronts you about your child and it changes both of your lives.
You gently lay Veyä on the soft mat trying to be careful to not wake her. She fusses a bit at the loss of contact with your warm skin, but quickly settles back down and you wait for her breathing to even out. Once you feel like you’re in the clear, you breathe out a big, but silent, breath of relief. You find yourself just sitting and staring at her little sleeping face. Her small ears flick wildly in her sleep and it makes you smile fondly.
Just as you stand to prepare yourself to sleep, the cover to your home flips open. It startles you a bit, but you relax when you see Neteyam standing there.
“Neteyam? What are you doing here?” you ask more than a little confused.
He’s silent as he looks at you. He slowly approaches you and you’re not sure if you should back away or not. When he gets close enough, Neteyam can notice the subtle changes in your face. How much rounder your cheeks look and the small bags under your eyes that you no doubt got from so many sleepless nights during and after your pregnancy. He stands there examining your face for a moment before his eyes fall to your baby who lay there sleeping next to you. There was no denying what he knew. If he had any doubt before, there definitely was none now. Neteyam falls to his knees beside Veyä and he watches the small rise and fall of her chest.
“Neteyam, what—” “Why didn’t you ever tell me?” his voice is low and even. Your whole body stiffens at his question. Your mind wants to shoot off your usual denial that you had become so accustomed to, but when Neteyam looks up at you and you see the tears filling his eyes, you know that he knows. There’s no more hiding.
“…I-I…didn’t know how to tell you…” you finally admit and it feels like letting go of a breath that you’ve been holding for months. The tears fall quick and steady down your face.
Neteyam rises to stand in front of you. He cautiously reaches one hand out to hold yours and when you don’t pull away from him, he steps closer. He brushes away your tears with his free hand and holds your face.
“You should have said something to me. I would have been there. You know I would have.”
“I was afraid, Teyam. You were supposed to be mating with someone else and I didn’t want to ruin that for you. I didn’t want to jeopardize the future of the clan. And—”
“Hey hey hey, look at me. It’s over with me and Layao, okay? We called it off.”
Your eyebrows scrunch together trying to understand what he was talking about. “But why wou—”
“We don’t even like each other. She’s fine, but I don’t love her. I never have.” He pulls you in closer ever so slightly and rubs his thumb against your cheek.
“Really? But you guys always seemed so…together.”
“We were making the best of the whole thing, but I could never give her my heart. Not when you already had it.”
The tears come in full force and it feels like all the air has been stolen from your lungs.
“I love you. Oel ngati kameie.” The tears finally fall from his eyes, but he also smiles down at you. Your body feels like it will go completely limp at any moment. For so long you had dreamed of hearing those words from him. And now, here he was ready and willing to give you all of him. How are you supposed to turn him away?
“I love you too, Teyam. I always have.”
His arms fold completely around you and he holds you close letting you nestle your face in his chest. He kisses the top of your head and relishes in the feeling of holding you again after so long. Too long.
“I’m so sorry I wasn’t there.” He mutters from above you.
“It’s not your fault. I didn’t give you the chance.”
“I swear, I’m not going anywhere. I’m yours and only yours. I just want to take care of you and our child.” He says still failing to hold his tears. The words ‘our child’ still feel so odd on his tongue, but it’s a good kind of unfamiliarity. His voice wavers a bit and it breaks your heart, but you cling to the hope for the future.
When Neteyam finally pulls back to look at you, he holds your face in his hands and gently kisses you. It’s so small and tentative, it reminds you of the first time you kissed. He’s so careful with you. But you don’t mind since that delicate care was just what you needed right now.
You break the kiss when you hear Veyä rustle around trying to get comfortable. Neteyam bends down next to her and admires her cute little face.
“She is beautiful. Just like her mother.”
You roll your eyes playfully at him, but the blush on your face is evident.
“She takes after you.”, you say nudging his shoulder. You yawn feeling the exhaustion finally catching up to you. “It’s been a long day. I should probably get some sleep.”
“Of course.” Neteyam says before lying down and making himself comfortable on your sleep mat. You watch him surprised, but he’s unphased by your shock when he holds his arms out towards you. You shoot him a questioning look, but he only urges you towards him still waiting with open arms. Hesitantly, you lay yourself next to him and he wraps his arms around you holding you close to his chest. His hand strokes the top of your head while he kisses your forehead and whispers about how good of a mom you are. If you weren’t half asleep already, you’d definitely be on the verge of tears again.
“Hey, Teyam.” You mumble into his chest.
“Yes, tìyawn?”
“I really missed you”
He gives you one more peck, “I missed you too.”
And with that, you let yourself succumb to sleep.
These days, you rise early. Your body had become so accustomed to waking up with Veyä in the wee hours of the morning that it’s just automatic for you now. Without opening your eyes, you wait and listen for sounds of her rustling around or fussing, but there is none. You silently thank Eywa that she’s still sleeping and so you turn back over to go back to sleep. When you reach out your arm, you’re surprised when there’s nothing there. No one right there. Your eyes shoot open and panic starts to set in when you see that Neteyam isn’t lying next to you anymore. You whip your head around and your whole body visibly goes slack when you catch sight of him sitting next to your mat. Your hand holds your chest trying to physically still your erratic heart.
“Teyam? What are you doing?” you groggily ask trying to crane your neck to see over his shoulder. You catch a glimpse of Veyä’s tail lightly tapping against his forearm.
“Sorry, I didn’t want to wake you. She was getting fussy and I wanted to let you get some more rest. I finally just got her to settle down.” He whispers turning his head to you so that you can hear him better.
You shuffle around a bit and scoot closer to get a better look and sure enough, Veyä is cuddled in close to Neteyam’s chest breathing deeply. You can still see the tear stains on her face from her episode that she had. One of your hands reaches out to lightly run over her head and smooth her hair.
“Thank you.” You mutter to Neteyam before pressing a kiss to his temple.
“I almost wasn’t sure she’d take to me.” He admits with a bit of guilt.
“Trust me, Teyam, she loves you. She’s loved you since before she was born. Every time I would talk to her about you, she would flip and kick all around.” You recount fondly.
A smile appears on Neteyam’s lips, but then his bottom lip quivers and tears start to fall down his face. When you notice, you hop up from your sleep mat and come to sit next to him.
“Hey, what’s the matter?”
“I…I missed everything. I wasn’t there for you; for her. I never felt her kick in your belly. I didn’t get to talk to her. I couldn’t even bring myself to stay and see her be born. You both needed me and I left you to do it all on your own.” More tears race down his face and his voice comes out shaky as he speaks.
Your lips press into a line feeling the guilt and shame radiate off him.
“I’m so sorry. I don’t know how you’ll ever forgive me, but I am so incredibly sorry and I swear before Eywa that I will find a way to make it up to you.”
“There’s nothing to forgive, Teyam. I should have told you. The important thing is that you’re here. And you’ll be there for her from now on.” Your head rests on his shoulder hoping to show him that you really don’t blame him for how things turned out. He leans his head on yours and sighs deeply looking down at his daughter in his arms.
“Veyä is a beautiful name.”
You smile, “I thought you’d like it.”
Silence falls over you, but it’s a comfortable silence. It’s serene. You close your eyes wanting to bask in this moment and commit every detail to memory. The smell of the early morning air, the steady rise and fall of Neteyam’s shoulder under your head, the tiny coos from Veyä securely clutched in his arms, all of it.
“I’m here to see my favorite girl! Aunt kiri brought toys!” Kiri calls out while wandering into your kelku.
Both you and Neteyam snap your attention to her and she freezes when she sees the scene in front of her.
“Oh, Neteyam! What are you doing here?” she asks awkwardly.
“Wait. Kiri, did you know that this is my child?” his tone is filled with disbelief.
“W-well, yes, but I wanted to tell you! Multiple times.” She says pointedly looking at you and crossing her arms. Neteyam follows her gaze to you and raises his empty brows at you incredulously. You grimace feeling the weight of his stare and cringe when he just utters ‘really?’.
“But it looks like you two idiots finally worked it out. Thank Eywa. Watching both of you dance around this whole thing was starting to get painful.” She says walking in all the way.
“I can’t believe you knew this whole time and didn’t say a word to me. You never even hinted at it.” He shakes his head at her as she comes to sit in front of both of you.
“Go easy on her, Teyam. I wouldn’t let her. But she was also a huge help to me during the pregnancy. She’s part of the reason we’ve been doing as well as we have. If not for Kiri, Veyä and I would be in a much rougher situation than we are.” You explain to him.
Neteyam’s expression softens listening to you. He can’t be upset with Kiri really. It wasn’t her responsibility to tell him. Plus, she was there for you when he wasn’t. If anything, he felt like he owed her his gratitude.
“Thanks.”
She playfully rolls her eyes at him, “Yeah, yeah, skxawng.”
Living the domestic life with Neteyam was an adjustment for all of you. Neteyam was eager to step up and step into the role of father for Veyä and you had to learn to take a step back and let him handle some things on his own just like you had to. But there were sometimes where Veyä just wouldn’t settle down for him no matter what he tried. But as soon as he would hand her off to you, she’d calm almost instantly. It broke his heart. All he wanted was for her to feel connected to him. Safe with him. One night, you could hear him sniffle softly next to you on the sleep mat. It made your heart heavy for him. You did your best to offer him some comfort holding onto him and pressing kisses to his shoulder.
“You’re doing a good job, Teyam. It’s just going to take a little time, that’s all.”
He’d turn and wrap his arm around you kissing the top of your head. He wouldn’t say anything, but he’d nod his head lightly listening to your reminder of patience.
Things finally took a turn for the better when you let Neteyam convince you to leave him alone with Veyä for a few hours while you went out to bathe and gather some fruits.
“Are you sure, Teyam?” you ask feeling flutters of apprehension dance in your chest.
“Of course. I think this will be good for us. Isn’t that right, my little tanhì?” he says cuddling Veyä in close and tickling her a bit making her laugh. “Just trust me.”
You know how much this means to him. And you trusted him, of course. “Alright. I’ll be back as soon as I’m done, okay?”
“Yes, yes, now go relax and we’ll be here when you get back.” He smiles at you while he gently holds a hand on your back to guide you out of your kelku. You laugh a bit at his antics and roll your eyes. “Fine, fine. I’m going. I’ll be back soon.” You say bending down to give Veyä a kiss on the forehead. “I love you. Be good for your sempu.” You straighten up and give Neteyam a peck on the lips before finally walking off to the pond to bathe.
“Now, how shall we spend our time, hm?” he smiles down at Veyä as her eyes watch him back curiously.
He walks back into your kelku and lays Veyä down on her back and he lays on his side looking at her. He wiggles a finger at her which she reaches out for. The unrelenting baby strength of her grip on his finger makes him huff out a small laugh.
“Strong girl. No surprise there, though.”
She uses her other hand to grab his finger and bring it to her mouth to nibble on.
“You know, you come from a great line of warriors. A line of toruk maktos and fierce fighters. And your sa’nu…she’s just amazing all around. I just know you’ll grow up to be just as beautiful and smart and tough as her.”
She continues to busy herself with chewing on Neteyam’s finger, but he hopes that his words will reach her somewhere deep inside and that she’ll carry that sentiment with her. When she finally tears her mouth off of him and looks at his face, she stares blankly at him for a minute or two. Neteyam doesn’t say anything or make any attempt to break her focus. After she’s decided on whatever was plaguing her tiny mind, she cracks a big, bright, toothless smile up at him.
Neteyam feels his heart squeeze in his chest. It’s as if he’s been hit with an arrow in the best way possible. How could something so small have such a massive impact on him this way? He can feel himself crumbling right on the spot. He knows that he would happily lay down his life if it meant protecting this tiny little life. Truly, is there anything as undoing as a daughter?
Once her smile drops, she lets out a big yawn.
“Looks like my princess needs her rest. Here.” He says picking her up and holding her flush against his chest. He lies down rubbing a hand up and down her back gently. The steady rise and fall of his chest while he breathes soothes Veyä into a quick slumber. Her tiny tail curls in towards her body while she buries her face in his chest. Neteyam dares not to move right now. He knows the repercussions that come with waking a sleeping baby. Plus, he wants to enjoy this moment for as long as possible. And before he knows it, sleep comes for him too.
The sight you’re met with when you return home completely melts you. The love of your life sleeping peacefully with your child curled up gleefully on his chest. Soft snores coming from both of them and their ears flicking back and forth sporadically.
‘They even sleep alike.’ You think to yourself trying to stifle a giggle. Silently, you place the basket of your fruit in the corner and sit on your knees in front of Neteyam and Veyä. As much as you hate to break up this touching scene, you know that it’s time to feed Veyä again. You carefully lift her from Neteyam’s chest making his eyes shoot open immediately to see who had dared to disturb his bonding with his precious baby. He’s relieved to see that it’s just you back home, though.
“Welcome home. I must’ve fallen asleep.” He rasps out still full of sleep. “I see. Looks like things went well.” You say smoothing Veyä’s hair where it had gotten a little messy.
“Of course, it did. I told you we’d be fine.” He finally sits up and rests his elbows on his knees.
“Yes, yes. My mighty warrior is quite the amazing father.” You lightly tease kissing his cheek making him flush a bit.
From that day on, you had both gotten much more acclimated to your new roles and lives as parents and building your family together. There would even be times where the roles would reverse and Veyä would only want her father. Neteyam loved to tease you about it to no end. You never minded it, though. It actually made you indescribably happy to see how attached your daughter had grown to him. Especially considering you weren’t sure either of them would ever even know about each other. So, if it meant that sometimes she would prefer her father over you, you were more than willing to live with that.
“Teyam, I don’t know about this. Are you sure they won’t be mad?” you ask fidgeting in your spot next to Neteyam.
“Are you kidding? All my mother has been talking about for months is how excited she is for grandchildren. They’re going to be happy. Trust me.” He says taking your hand in his and rubbing his thumb over your knuckles.
“Okay.” You sigh.
You had let Neteyam and Kiri convince you to tell Jake and Neytiri the truth about Veyä. To say you were nervous was an understatement. You were essentially the reason that their plans for Neteyam and Layao and the future of the clan fell through. They were like family to you and the last thing you wanted was to make them angry or disappointed in you.
You anxiously readjust your sling with Veyä on your chest as you walk with Neteyam into his parents’ kelku. You’re thankful to see that it’s only the two of them home right now. This was going to be hard enough to get through without an audience.
“Well, well, hey there stranger. Look at you all grown up with a kid of your own now!” Jake says approaching you with a smile and wrapping you in one of his famous dad hugs.
“Our deepest sympathies about Aykxo” Neytiri says to you.
You squeeze Neteyam’s hand hoping that he’ll say something because you feel as if a palulukan has your tongue right now.
“Actually, that’s partially why we’re here.” He starts looking between both of his parents who now were eyeing you both in confusion. “Mom, dad, say hello to your granddaughter. Veyä is my child.” He states proudly.
Silence.
When you’re finally able to bring your eyes back to look at their faces, there is shock and confusion and some other third emotion that you’re not quite able to make out. Somehow, though, Neytiri looks less surprised than Jake.
“Wait, your kid? But that’s not possible, right?” he asks in disbelief. He looks at you and Neyteyam waiting for one of you to answer.
“It’s true, she is Neteyam’s child. I was never with Aykxo.” You finally speak even though it’s barely audible even in the silence.
“I—” Jake huffs out a breath cutting his own sentence short while he processes this new revelation.
“Ma’Jake…” Neytiri speaks up and gives him a look. It’s the kind of look that communicates so much without any words. The kind of look that you learn to understand after years and years of being with each other.
“Let’s talk a bit. Outside.” He says to Neteyam specifically.
“Yes, sir.” He says already readying himself for the lecture he was surely in for. “I’ll be right back.” He says gripping your hand one last time before he follows his dad out of the kelku. The silence left behind between you and Neytiri somehow feels even heavier on your shoulders than before. Her eyes scan you up and down and she tilts her head a bit at the sight of your baby.
“May I?” she asks gently holding her hands out. You’re more than a little surprised, but you nod anyway. Scooping Veyä out of your sling and placing her in Neytiri’s hands, she looks the infant over carefully seemingly examining her every feature.
Clearly, she recognizes the similarities when a warm smile crosses her face.
“She looks just like Neteyam did as a baby.” She remarks.
“The pattern on her head is just like his.” You add
“It is.” Neytiri brushes her nose against Veyä’s and she squeals with joy flailing her little limbs in her hold. “She is beautiful.”
“I have to admit, I was worried you would be upset.”
“Oh, how could I ever be upset to have such a precious grandchild? The Great Mother makes no mistakes. Besides, I already had a suspicion. You’ll come to learn this, but a mother knows.”
Neteyam and Jake come back inside and Neteyam immediately retakes his place next to you holding your hand. You raise your brows slightly at him silently asking him if everything was okay and he offers you a small smile in response.
“Alright, let me get a look at the little ball of sunshine.” Jake says walking over to Neytiri and smiling down at the baby. “Hey there, I’m your grandpa.” He says letting her grab his finger.
“Whew! Feel that grip! She’s a Sully, alright.” He laughs.
The next month felt like it flew by in a whirlwind. Neteyam moved in to your kelku, you introduced Veyä to the rest of his family, and did a lot of explaining. In just a matter of weeks, life as you’ve known it has been completely turned on its head.
Neteyam had insisted on adding one of the beads from his braids to Veyä’s song cord. The gesture was sweet enough to bring a tear to your eye
Jake and Neytiri loved being grandparents. Jake would fly Veyä around like something called an airplane. You didn’t really get it, but she loved it so that’s all that mattered. It surprised you at first how accepting his family had been of your situation, but at the same time, you were beyond grateful for their support.
Tonight, Jake and Neytiri offered to keep Veyä for the night so that you and Neteyam could have “date night”. It’s supposed to be a chance for the two of you to spend time alone together without having to worry about the baby. It was a nice gesture, but admittedly, you were apprehensive about spending a whole night away from her. You hadn’t spent so much time away from her before and it was a worrisome feeling, but they insisted it would be good for you. Plus, Neteyam seemed keen to have you to himself for a night so you agreed.
“Alright, Neteyam has his throat comm in case there’s an emergency and you need to reach us.” You explain trying to stall as long as you can.
“Yawne, it will be fine. It is only one night.” Neteyam says lightly peeling you away from Kiri who was holding your baby.
“We know how to reach you. Now, go have fun. Relax a little.” She says.
“Okay, okay. You’re right. But we’ll be back first thing in the morning.” You say caressing Veyä’s cheek with your finger.
“Say bye sa’nu!” Kiri gushes while waving Veyä’s arm at you.
“Thanks again. See you in the morning!” Neteyam waves goodbye to his family as you both leave. You do your best to hold it together, but a single tear still manages to escape from your eye. You try to quickly wipe it away before Neteyam notices, but of course he catches it.
“Oh, come now. Am I that miserable to be around?” he jokes at you trying to make you laugh. And it works.
“You know it’s not that.”
“Well, I think I have something that will cheer you up.” He says calling his ikran over.
You squint at him suspiciously wondering what he had planned for you for the night. He laughs a little to himself and holds his hand out to you to help you mount his ikran. “Just trust me.”
You sit in front of him during the ride while one of his arms holds you close around your waist. While you’re soaring across the night sky, Neteyam does a particularly steep dive making you reflexively hold on to his arm tight and let out a small yelp of surprise. He chuckles seeing your reaction, but he also secretly loved how you held onto him. Once he levels back out, you playfully smack his arm and he kisses your shoulder in apology.
He finally lands at a clearing near a waterfall where you can see the moon and stars more clearly than back home. The light of the moon dances across the water and you notice that there’s an assortment of bioluminescent flower petals scattered around a small mat on the ground next to the water.
“Neteyam…what is this?” your eyes are full of wonder as he helps you down.
“This is our date. I know it’s not much, but I thought it was pretty at least.” He sheepishly guides you over to the mat in the middle of the flowers.
“Are you kidding me? Neteyam, this is beautiful. You did all of this yourself?”
“Well, I got the idea from my dad.” He admits.
When you sit down, Neteyam runs back over to his ikran to unload a small basket that had some pxir, meats, and utumauti. He runs back over to you to set all the food down and you smile at his endearing display.
“You know these are my favorite.”
“Of course. It wouldn’t be complete without your utumauti.”
The smile on your face could crack your face in half. Suddenly, you notice Neteyam seem to become very nervous about something. His tail thumps lightly at the ground behind him and his ears were flicking wildly.
“Truth is, there is something else I wanted to do tonight, too.” He speaks up, but his eyes have a hard time staying focused on you. You tilt your head at him waiting for him to continue. He closes his eyes and takes a deep breath before he goes on. He comes to rest in front of you and kneels on one knee. He fidgets around with the satchel on his hip and pulls out a small bracelet to hold in his palm in front of you. At the center of the detailed braiding is an iridescent purple pearl surrounded by multiple smaller gemstones.
Your mouth falls open a bit and your eyes jump between the small piece of jewelry and his face.
“I know that this may seem redundant, but it only feels right to still do this…I love you. I’ve loved you for as long as I can remember. And I love our child and the life that we have together. No one else knows me like you do and no one else can leave me breathless like you. Every night, I thank Eywa for the privilege of holding you close. I never want to be without you ever again. So, will you be my mate?”
The tears fall fast and steady down your cheeks while Neteyam pours his heart out to you. It feels like all of your emotions are stuck in a ball in your throat preventing you from speaking properly. All you can manage to do is nod your head at him. The light of his smile rivals that of the moon right now. He takes your wrist in his hand and fits the bracelet around you. Your hand covers your mouth to stop the small sob that tries to escape.
He brushes away your tears with his thumb. “Was it too much?”
You quickly shake your head at him. “No, it was perfect, Teyam. I’m just really happy.”
His arms wrap around you and you bury your face into his chest smiling to yourself. When you look up at him, his smile still hasn’t left his face. Your lift your face to his to kiss him and he’s more than happy to return the gesture. His hold on you tightens and you breathe out a small moan against his lips. The sound sends a shiver through Neteyam’s body. He tries testing the waters by parting his lips slightly, but before he can lick your lips, your tongue is already invading his mouth eagerly. He can’t help but smile into the kiss.
You’re not sure if it’s the emotions getting to your head or the overall atmosphere around you right now, but you feel this need to have his hands on you. You grab his hands and guide them to your hips and you can feel how he’s putting forth all his effort to show some kind of restraint with you. You press your body more into his to let him know that he doesn’t need to hold back. He finally starts to get the hint when you feel his tail sneak its way to wrap around your thigh.
“Yawne…” he says against your lips. It’s meant to be something of a warning, but the way he growls it out makes all the blood rush to your head and make you dizzy.
“Yes, sayrìp?” you ask still not taking your lips off his.
“Don’t start something you can’t finish.”
“Oh, I know you’ll make sure I finish.” You look up at him feigning innocence and he just smirks at you.
“You are something else, you know that?”
“Of course. That’s why you love me.”
He pulls you into his lap and rests his hands on your hips. The gesture is familiar and oh so missed. “I suppose you have a point.” He says starting to kiss your neck and lightly rock your hips back and forth on top of him. Your head lulls to the side opening yourself up to him more.
“Just don’t get me pregnant again yet.” You half-joke.
He chuckles lowly to himself, “No promises.”
“Teyam…” it’s your turn to warn him, but it comes out more as a moan than anything, spurring him on even more.
“You’re so pretty pregnant. Carrying my baby. So beautiful” he halfway mumbles while he carries on scenting you. It feels like he won’t be satisfied until he’s completely drowned you in his scent. Eywa, you missed this. Your mind is telling you to be careful, but it’s powerless to stop your body from naturally pressing more into him and moving your hips. Neteyam’s hands run up and down your waist and hips and thighs, only stopping when he lets one wander between your legs. There was no way of getting around how soaked you were right now and he loves it.
“See, look how ready your body already is for me.” He says licking a long stripe up your pulse point and letting himself get drunk off your scent.
You can’t deny it, your body trembled with anticipation under his touch. And you make no efforts to stop him when his fingers slip past your loincloth and drag themselves through your slick.
You gasp when he slips a finger inside of you and curls it in just the right way that he remembers you love. It feeds the carnal part of your brain that wants to submit to him completely. And so you do.
“Ahh…Nete…”
His hold on you tightens and a low growl rumbles in his throat.
“Fuck, I missed hearing you” he says picking you up and laying you on your back still keeping his fingers inside of you. He quickly finds that one special spot that only he could reach and it makes you throw your head back in lust. Even after all this time, he still knew your body so well. But you still knew him too.
You tease him by just lightly dragging your fangs over his neck. With his lips right next to your ear, you can hear clearly how his breath stutters. Neteyam loved for you to mark him and stake your claim over him and now you could without restraint. The slow drag of your teeth against his skin made goosebumps appear all over his body. The waiting was torture. It makes his cock twitch with need.
He decides that he’s had enough of your loincloth being in his way of what he really wanted. He only pulls his fingers out of you long enough to slide your tewng and his off. He palms his fully hard length while he drinks in the sight of you for the first time in so so long. It’s almost like a compulsion when he dips his face down to bury it between your thighs and his tongue swipes across your clit.
Your whole body jumps at the contact. He presses messy, open mouth kisses to your cunt, sucking lightly on your swollen clit. “You taste even better than I remember” he kind of mutters to himself between devouring you like a man starved.
“Mmm! Neteyam! I’m gonna cum!”
He hums out a response with his tongue buried inside of you while he strokes himself faster. When he swirls his tongue around, he swipes a spot that fully makes your thighs try to squeeze together around his head.
“Ah! I’m cumming!” you moan just as it finally crashes into you. Your whole body seizes and Neteyam greedily laps up all of your overflowing arousal while you ride out your high against his face. Your hips buck and jerk against him as you slowly try to come down. It’s easier said than done when Neteyam won’t stop licking up every last drop of you. From the inside of your thighs to directly from the source, his mouth is all over you.
“Nete…n-need you…please”
He’s just about at the edge of his own patience by now, too. He sits back on the balls of his feet to line himself up with you so he can slide in slowly.
You’re not used to the feeling anymore. It’s unfamiliar, but at the same time, it feels like finally sliding the last piece of a puzzle into place. There’s this sense of ‘oh, this fits perfectly here’. Neteyam clings to whatever shred of sense he still had left to make sure he doesn’t do too much too fast with you. It feels like you lose more of your mind with every inch he sinks deeper into you until he’s fully bottomed out in you. He holds himself still so you can adjust to the feeling again, but also because he’s afraid he might cum too quickly if he doesn’t take a second to take a deep breath or two.
Your arms fold around his neck pulling him in closer and you can see how the bottom half of his face is glistening still covered in you. His eyes watch you looking for any signs of discomfort, but also just because he loves to watch your face when he first slides in you. You offer him a small nod letting him know that you’re fine and he takes his time dragging out of you and pushing back in. It’s a slow roll of his hips back and forth into yours. Long, loving, powerful thrusts that press into your sweet spot perfectly.
“Mmf!...Ha-ahh…right there” you whimper out.
All the sweet sounds spilling from your lips is too much for Neteyam. He can already feel his knot starting to grow.
“Shit…” he says under his breath. He thinks about it for a while in his own mind. He thinks about knotting you again and thinks about the eye-rolling pleasure it would give both of you. He thinks about getting you pregnant again. Using your cunt however he pleases to breed you over and over again to ensure it takes. Filling you until it’s literally having to spill back out of you. There’s not a single thing he wants more right now than to stuff his knot into you and let nature take its course.
Thankfully, he’s able to remain logical enough to stop himself from doing so. He knows it would be unwise, to say the least, to get you pregnant again so soon. But fuck, you make it hard when you’re looking at him like that and digging your nails into his skin from how hard you’re holding onto him while he fucks into you.
“Ah! Ah! Great Mother! I’m cumming again!” your eyebrows scrunch together as your face contorts in ecstasy when your orgasm takes you for the second time tonight even stronger than the last one.
“Oh, fuck, me too” he says gritting his teeth still struggling against his body’s primal need to fill you. At the very last second, he pulls out and watches as his seed spills onto your lower abdomen instead.
Heavy panting breaths fill the air as you both come down. You look at the mess he’s made on your stomach and shoot him a tired smile.
“Smart man.” You say making you both laugh.
“Just consider yourself lucky that my willpower is so strong.” He responds.
For the rest of the time that you’re there, the two of you alternate between eating the food that Neteyam brought and taking your time relearning each others’ bodies. It feels familiar and comfortable just like it used to, but now, you don’t have to worry about hiding.
…time skip…
“Sa’nu!” your daughter’s small voice calls out to you as she eagerly runs to your side. You sweep her up in your embrace and spin her around while wild giggles jump from her throat.
“Yes, ma’ite?” you say while snuggling her closely against you.
“How did you and sempu meet?” her voice is filled with innocence and her big eyes blink at you.
You cock an eyebrow at her, “Well now, where did that question come from?” Your daughter was only 4 years old, but in all of her years, she’s never inquired about you and your husband’s relationship. It was never really necessary.
“Well, Ipxpa said that Uncle Lo’ak and Aunt Layao told her that they met because of you and sempu. But how did you meet?” she inquires genuinely. You chuckle a little to yourself finding her curiosity endearing.
At the same moment, your husband walks into your kelku. “I heard my name?”
“Sempu!” you watch your daughter run and throw herself into your husband’s arms and nearly knock him back.
“Woah, did you grow even more since I left this morning? I swear you’re getting bigger every time I turn around.” His fingers tickle at her sides making her squeal and squirm in his grip.
“How was the hunting trip, sayrìp?” you say making your way to his side so he could place a light kiss on your forehead.
“It went well. We have plenty of meat to get us through several weeks. But, more importantly, how are you, ma love?” he asks looking down at you still holding your daughter in his arms.
“I am fine. We are all fine.” You reassure him holding your hands against your slightly protruding lower abdomen. “Your son has a hunger that would rival your own.”
A proud smile crosses Neteyam’s lips and his hand lands on top of yours. “He is strong. That is good.”
You smile contently feeling your unborn baby wiggle at his father’s touch.
“Our daughter is wondering how we met.”
He raises his would-be eyebrows at you, “Oh really? Well, that is a fun story.”
“Oooh I wanna hear it! Please, sa’nu!” Veyä clutches her hands together and pouts her lip at you.
You throw your head back relenting, “Fine, fine. Come, sit.” You instruct her and she worms her way out her father’s grasp and sits cross-legged on the floor in front of your sleeping mat. Thinking about the full story, you realize that you’ll have to leave out a few details that she doesn’t need to know.
Your husband holds your hand to help guide you down to the ground on your mat.
“Well, it was a long time ago. Long before you were born ma’ite.” You begin and her face lights up with wonder. “Your sempu was in love with a different girl!” she gasps dramatically and looks at her father full of scandal making you laugh.
“Hey now, if you’re going to tell the story, then tell it right!”
“Fine. Your father and I had been in love our whole lives, but we had to keep it a secret because he was supposed to be with someone else.”
The three of you settle in so that you can listen to the story as you recount it fondly until you notice Veyä’s eyes starting to droop.
“Look’s like someone needs a nap” you say pausing the story.
“Noooo, please keep going sa’nu!” she protests even though she’s clearly struggling to hold her eyes open.
“We can finish when you wake up, tanhì” Neteyam says scooping her up in his arms and holding her against his chest. You could tell he about ready to settle in for some rest too. You figure you might as well join them and finally rest your exhausted body. You scoot in to Neteyam’s side while Veyä curls up on his chest just like when she was a baby and Neteyam holds a hand around both of you and kisses both of your heads while you all slowly drift off to sleep.  
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oh-saints · 1 year
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ruben dias and daughter of pep guardiola.
man.. when i got this request, all i keep thinking about is some forbidden, enemy-to-lovers trope so here it is! i hope you like it!
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enemy
you and rúben dias can never be in the same room and it's the main reason why your father's head balding. so what changes?
rúben dias x guardiola!reader
word count: 4.2k
tw: 18+ for graphic sexual contents included inside (aka a sprinkle of smut); drinking, swearing, unprotected sex (and some angry/hate sex)
note: i was writing something along the line of enemy-to-lovers but got stuck midway until this request came in from @kkilp so here we are. my first smut? dang that feels weird saying it was also inspired mildly by anthony and kate of bridgerton (TV series; s2, 2021) but as usual, i happen to write at dawn so ofc this is not proof-read and feedbacks are always welcome! (now lemme go back to repent my sin and go back writing the charles leclerc story i've got...)
“another flower from your daughter, isn’t it?”
rúben could hear one of the coaching staffs commented pep as the spaniard walked in with a huge bouquet of varied flowers on his arms, almost blinding the old man’s sight for direction. pep only laughed to answer his staff’s clarificatory question because it had indeed become a habit for that particular daughter of his to send a humongous array of flowers to her father whenever he and his team won something.
last night happened to be the time when the team had won another EPL title. thus, the biggest arrangement being sent to her father’s office. it was funny for some as she always matches the size to the prestigious level of a trophy.
but of course the entire building loves her. she’d sent each and everyone in this building a bouquet, directly to their houses, albeit in smaller size than the ones delivered for her father. but still, complete with the words hard work always pays off. congratulations, champions! typed perfectly in the middle of the card.
being a florist, she’d also send a basket to anyone who was celebrating with carnations, anyone who was newly having kids with hydrangeas, anyone who was injured with sunflowers.
but him.
he’d like to think himself as someone not petty so no—it wasn’t because he didn’t get a bouquet for himself. he could buy himself one so big the smell would’ve made him throw up for days if a mere basket of flowers was his problem. he just didn’t understand why people couldn’t see how she acted beyond the artificial care and love she’d faked behind those flowers.
rúben was probably the only one who couldn’t relate towards all of the love directed towards her. he could only hope the people would soon belief what he’d gone through, as everybody thought he was crazy for saying she was cold, aloof and rather unfriendly as of late.
as of late being the key word here because god damnit, they used to be so… close? well, he thought they were close but it seemed that for her, they were amicable at best. because one day, she just started to shut him off and she wasn’t shy to show him that. and only to him, no one else. no one of close friends would—and could—do that overnight.
it was similar to those mean girls kind of story plot where you know she’d give you scrutiny so directly but so indirectly in the eyes of everyone else. except that the ending was no where near, unfortunately, for she was now sporting off the cold shoulder to him throughout the whole EPL celebratory party.
rúben was inclined to believe she intended to rile him up even, as she danced the night away with those crazy drunkards he called his teammates. jack, kyle, john amongst the name. he prides himself in moderate amount every time he drinks and he intends to keep it while he’s still an active athlete, but fucking hell did he want to drink till his head bang in the same rhythm as the bass pounding the dance floor.
he just wanted to barge in the midst of the group and had fun with her, just like they used to back when he was still in his freshman year on the etihad side. if she didn’t like it, then good. it gave him the chance for confrontation of whatever it is she was doing.
fuck it, he’d said to himself as he got up from his seat, tired of being the sober friend to a bunch of kids. might as well have my fair share of fun, even if it didn’t involve getting her into the picture.
but in all honesty, she’d seen this move of his. this was what solidified her justification of staying away from him. the moment he was bored out of his mind, that was when he started preying for another long-legged bimbo to bring home.
she could only pray for the woman’s well-being afterwards because she’d learned it the hard way.
for her, rúben was siren personified. he’d talk his way to your pants, feeding you to his soul until you’re left dry. thank god he didn’t make it way past the whole sexual thing—she’d kept him at bay for so long that he’d got bored and the moment she was about to give in was the moment she found out about him moving on.
that night, when she dropped by his house for an impromptu netflix and chill session, when she was ready to accept whatever his advances that night. only for his leading lady to greet her by the door, wearing only lingerie and his shirt unbuttoned.
despite them going apart now, it never soothed her heartbreak.
but she had to see him all the time, thanks to her father’s job. that fact upset her beyond belief that she couldn’t seem to escape him. especially when everyone talks highly of him, when everyone loves him.
there were so many times she wanted to spill out the hot tea but she resisted because it wouldn’t do any good—for her, for him, for her father, for anyone. people would take her as a bitter bitch that didn’t get the dick, she’d held higher regards for herself than to stoop so low.
“let him go and have fun with me.”
the club’s lightning was too dark for her to make out who the hell that was, whispering behind her like he had the world in his palm. obnoxious dick, she’d muttered to herself.
“what did you just say?”
“go away.”
men, couldn’t take a no for his answer as he grabbed her wrist rather harsh, trying to exert some power over her. “no, you didn’t—"
“she said go away, mate,” weird how she knew it was rúben standing behind her before she could see him. “which part of that sentence did you not understand? should i cut off your hands instead?”
the stranger tried to hard not to be intimidated by rúben’s stare but his grip on her hands said the otherwise. “you wouldn’t.”
“would you like to try?”
if she wasn’t just assaulted by the man, she would’ve taken a pity because rúben seething anger and deep distaste like you’re a disgusting human being that doesn’t deserve to live wasn’t something she’d like to experience herself.
“are you okay?”
she didn’t realise she was watching the man scurried off as if he’d caught on fire when rúben went ahead and touched her herself. she’d froze at her place, not knowing where to stand because his hand was placed exactly where the unwanted touch happened—partly she got reminded of what had just happened to her, partly she’d gladly take rúben’s touch over anyone else she didn’t know of.
“hey, you’re okay?”
she couldn’t comprehend what was happening and it felt suffocating to be the centre of everyone’s attention, so she dashed for the restroom for a bit of space.
“talk to me,” she could hear rúben’s voice from the other side of the door, solid 10 minutes after she entered the loo. he’d understood, she whispered to herself as if it was a wonder rúben was smarter than he let on. “please say you’re okay.”
as if she didn’t know the rúben that deserted her for another woman.
god, she hated him for doing this to her. “go away, rúben!”
“like hell i will,” he spat ferociously behind the doors that it startled her. but the soft voice that followed after was more shocking it ran shivers down her back. “i need to know you’re okay.”
the caring thought that laced his words didn’t escape her because she knew, no matter of an asshole rúben was, rúben was always genuine with his words. it was his past actions and the difference between actions and words that scarred her for life—well, at least up until now.
but it was enough for her to choose to shut up instead of acting based on her turmoil of emotions. she’d silently tidy up, fixing her hair and lipstick, while watching the women coming out of the loos one by one till it was only her left. in hope he’d left if she stayed inside for far too long for his liking, then she could sneak out of this place from the backdoor.
all plans were shattered, though, when the door slammed wide open and revealed rúben bulldozing his way inside like a monster truck exhibition. the veins on his arms and neck was bulging angrily, as angry as his face.
“what the fu—”
“i said i need to know you’re okay,” after he spit the words as if that should be obvious to her, he then proceeded to lock the door behind him. “didn’t you hear?”
cowards, afraid anyone walk on you in a woman’s bathroom? “i did, but it doesn’t mean i have to answer you.”
“puta madre,” if she didn’t hold on to the painful memory he’d learned spanish from the ex-girlfriend she met one night too long ago, she’d go meek and weak at his impeccable multilingual tongue. “you’re so frustrating! why is it so hard for you to tell me so?”
“why do want to know?”
“because some asshole just groped you in the ass!” one of his hands shot towards her direction, gesturing from her head to toe in frustration. of her not seeing his point. “surely you’re not okay. no one is after such terrible event.”
“there, you said it youself. i’m not okay,” she rolled her eyes at his reply, hands folding in front of her chest. “why do you care, anyway?”
he shot him a look that was scaring her, and not of the violence he was capable of doing. “do i have to have a reason to care about you?”
“go back in there, rúben,” she tried to stand her ground, faking a rather tired expression when, in fact, she was masking her fear as he dared himself to step closer to her direction. “your drunk friends need your care more than i do.”
his eyes remained intense, burning her down as if she was merely a clothing to burn, as he stepped in front of her. his strong aura forced her to look up at him, and she tried to put some defiance into it in order to show she was in control. or trying to.
“but i don’t care about them,” he lowered his voice as he didn’t see the need to speak louder when his opponent was right under his nose. he knew he’d got her when she shifted her stance from the right leg to her left one. “i care about you.”
the statement obviously caught her off guard, as outmost surprised laced the pair of eyes that—luckily—resembled her mother more. rúben took the chance to close down the gap between their lips, as fast as lightning before she changed her mind, goading her to open up.
as soon as he heard her groaning in surrender, the inside of him ignited in delight. rúben pushed more than what she thought she could give, for he knew she could give more than she thought. his effort drove her to the edge of the sink behind her and she grunted at the crash against the porcelain, but bloody hell the sound effected rúben so much he felt blood rushing south and adrenaline took over his brain.
he’d lifted her up and placed her on the sink in a pace so swift she’d only managed to blink once. he’d slid his hands down her calf, up north towards the rim of her sundress, and she gasped at his ardent touch. felt so hot against the air conditioner of a room so big but only filled with the two of them.
rúben took the liberty to explore her mouth the moment the passage was opened. despite having his eyes closed, he savoured each and every stroke he made for the mental map of hers and he savoured the feeling of her hands sliding everywhere her hands could reach in desperation to hold on for herself while her body unconsciously gave away her control the moment rúben touched the edges of her panties.
she’d arched her back so flexibly rúben had to pull back a bit and admired the crescent shape she was bending herself to be. but not even the moon could compare with the beauty puny in his hands, with pink mauve lipstick smeared lightly and dishevelled hair against the mirror.
“god, you’re beautiful,” and it was all it took for her to sit up and grab his shirt to forcefully meet her lips halfway.
and for rúben, nothing was sexier than when a woman tried to put up a fight against him, even after well-knowing he’d win anyway. so he’d let her think she won, nuzzling his nose downwards, smelling her perfume, her body odour and her desperation all in one. he’d left kisses on his way down, the same moment his hands peeled down the flimsy strap of her sundress, and he swore he’d never touch finer things than the shape of her.
he’d palmed every surface his hands could reach, and took every choked breaths she emitted from his touch. but when he touched the centre of her underwear and felt the drip she was heavily producing, he’d become a goner. he couldn’t take it anymore.
without detaching his lips from her healthy skin, he pulled back an inch to give himself space to undo his pants. when she realised this, she’d drop her hands from his hair and shoulder to help him stash away the jeans. they laughed at this somehow, before they turned muted when rúben dias junior was out of the cage, standing tall and unwavering like him.
the anticipation killed him because jesus christ, with the desire running down her face, he wouldn’t be able to do much anymore. so he kissed her before she could have any second thoughts while his hands aligned himself to her. the first skin-to-skin contact left them breathless, in every literal sense of the word, and rúben could see what she was feeling before she could say anything. the way she closed her eyes in ecstasy as he slipped himself inside of her couldn’t lie.
“oh shit,” he’d read normally women was the only who went all goo at a drop to a man’s voice, but this time rúben could piss himself hearing her doing it. “that feels so good.”
eyes closed, slow pants coming out of that gaping mouth and fucking hell she looks amazingly sexy. and she feels like how she looked like, good god. rúben couldn’t stop his hands from grabbing the sides of her face, some hairs scrunched in them, accidentally closing some parts of her mouth but it didn’t stop her from letting out hot, broken breaths when rúben started moving out of her.
“fuck, you’re so tight, baby,” the portugese giant nipped the bottom lips that looked so juicy from all the kisses exchanged between them, from him. “all for me, huh?”
“yes, you—oh!” she yelped like a siren when rúben slammed himself back to her. “do it right, rúben. do me right.”
rúben didn’t need further command to that, for sure.
she moaned so disgustingly dirty as he guided his cock back and forth, inside and out the now-slick fold, to the brink of heaven on earth. every time he pulled out, she’d moan in pleading, desperate to have all of him inside of her that anyone hearing her whimper would definitely take a pity on her.
“fuck! right there!” she screamed in pleasure as she held rúben’s wrist that was holding her in the face and she wasn’t lying about it. with the way she was rocking his girth and the pressure she’d put on her grip, she was close to the edge. “right there, right there!”
“come on, baby. let go for me.”
fuuuuuuck! ugh, fuck, fuck!
“oh yes, that’s right, baby,” he was now panting so hard the mirror above her was now covered in mist, but how could he stop himself when he looked down and there was the most amazing sight he’d set his eyes on. he ended where she began and she ended where he began. “that’s my girl.”
something inside of her clicked like the electric circuit and all the sudden it was black. but not a frightening blackout, more like black with stars on the back of her head. “fuck, rúben—”
rúben?
rúben dias?
the moment her brain registered the voice indeed belong to rúben dias, she went completely still that rúben had to break her moment. “hey, what’s wrong?”
she badly wished the earth could swallow her right now. the girth still inside of her be damned.
she pressed the crescent eyelids he’d come to love, for they looked as pretty as the moon outside, in a manner rúben didn’t want to know why. because it looked like she didn’t want to open her eyes to meet his. because it looked like regret.
“baby—”
“don’t, rúben.”
she cut him off with the sharpest blade available under her arsenal, her intonation, and at that moment it felt like those film moments when he froze after she stabbed her, digesting the pain and the shock that blanketed the moment.
“what did i do wrong?”
“this, rúben,” and she clenched her jaw, as if it pained her. as if it didn’t pain him to look at the expression she was sporting on her face now—here comes the old, cold you, rúben regretfully noted. “this is what’s wrong. what are you thinking?”
and there was the pair of eyes he loved, for they always speak the truth words lie about. but this time, rúben wished she didn’t open them, for they always speak the truth words lie about, and this time eyes and mouth were seething with anger.
“am i just another rebound for you?”
now that was a serious accusation. “where the hell does that come from?”
“you don’t like me, rúben,” if she wasn’t spitting stupid thoughts, rúben would certainly take the pleasure to fawn over her fiery stance right now. nothing pleased him more than putting people down to follow the order, and she certainly exuded rebellion from her eyes alone. “you never do.”
his large hand jumped to pull her face upwards to face him, rather powerfully to show who’s the boss and she just crossed the line. the movement caused his dick to slide back deeper into her, unexpectedly that she had to hold herself from moaning at the feeling—this feeling as a whole, more likely—but the distance he eliminated between them allowed him to inhale her suppressed whimper.
peering down to her in an arrogance manner she wanted to wipe from the faces of the earth, rúben raised his left eyebrow, challenging her back. “if i don’t like you, why did i just fuck your brains out?”
“as i said—”
“rebounds, you say?” and he didn’t intend to let her speak, as he instead pulled her closer to him by the waist. the sensation he could pull out of her mouth was the only thing he allowed between them, broken gasps and all. “if you know me as well as you think you are, then tell me,”
her chest was burning at the sensation he was whispering so close to her, inhaling what she exhaled, inhaling what he exhaled. on fire at the sensation of him pulling out slowly from her at the same time the hand on her waist travelled inside, towards the aching clit deprived of the friction from his groin.
“tell me, baby,” god, rúben wanted to close off the gaping mouth, as shut as the fluttering eyelids. “have you ever heard of me doing that? have you ever seen me, with your own eyes, doing that?”
“rúben—”
his hand was so close yet so far, caressing the insides of her thighs, and she hated the fact she needed him to touch her. now, or else she’d combust. “answer me.”
“no—”
“there you go,” and there was the satisfaction he’d recognised from the arch of her back and neck, as he hurled himself back to her soft spot, allowing him to pepper kisses along the underside of her chin, down along her throat, nailing her in her place further. “god, if only you knew…”
only when rúben pulled away from the space in the middle of her decolletages did she open her eyes once more, and she was rendered rather speechless at how rúben was looking at her. she was almost scared to ask but knew she needed the answer. “knew what?”
“it’s maddening,” the hand in her face moved to a different angle, now his forefinger was tracing the edges of her lips. the very one he destroyed with the harsh, heated kisses they exchanged. his artwork. “how much you consume my very being.”
before her heart could leap out of its place, rúben kissed her lips once more with so much fervour and everything else remained in his body. different to their earlier kisses full of lust, this one was lingering but unspeakable feeling and passion and lust and love.
love?
whatever they were feeling certainly wasn’t love, was it? they hate each other, for fuck’s sake.
“eyes on me, querida,” rúben’s voice snapped her thoughts away and she obeyed him, forgetting how easy it was to spare this particular man the hatred. before she saw that ex-girlfriend of his on the doorsteps, before she resorted to her self-defence mechanism.
“hello, there,” and he felt her melting away, as he recognised the whimpers she let out this time while he was rocking their boat in rhythm back and forth was nothing sort of what she gave 15 minutes ago. “there’s the eyes i love the most.”
love?
but before her mind could drift somewhere else, rúben finished off what he started. he drove her to the end fast and without mercy this time, leaving him helpless under his control of pace. his hand was no longer feathering the skin, they’d made themselves useful by dipping into the blossoming bud between rúben and her. the crude touch against her soft, plump crown was the striking contrast she needed to release herself for the second time, all frustration and thoughts were now focused on the finishing line. so focused that she didn’t feel herself shaking, trembling as rúben assaulted all of her senses—his kiss, his touch, his smell, his drive.
rúben sensed her going weaker from his all-out attack, not wanting to hold back himself either, not when he finally had her within his whim. he took her hands to curl them behind his neck and pulled up her knees so he could lift her up before turning their position around. he was now sitting on the lid of the toilet nearby while she sunk down on him and good fucking lord did she wrap him, all of his 9-inches, so tightly and so deeply like she was made for him.
and she felt it, too, for she sling her arms on his shoulder, hanging for her dear life. rúben couldn’t help but pull her in his grasp, closer than before—no air, no space between them—and the feeling of conjoining with her altogether almost undid him before her he had to stop himself from moving. rúben rested his head on her chest, wanting to calm himself down first as he placed open-mouthed kisses and nips on the outline of her nipples, but the action seemed to turn her on as he felt her clenching around him.
“fuck, don’t stop,” he involuntarily said, and she took it as an invitation to take the wheel from him and ride them out. “fuck, baby. fuck yes, i’m coming.”
“oh, yes, yes, yes!” she’d screamed as rúben manoeuvred her hips back and forth. combined that with the sinful components of his mouth against her breast, licking and sucking the sensitive bud like there was no tomorrow, it didn’t take long for her to reach her, by far, most satisfying high. “oh joder, rúben!”
she’d relish the feeling of soaring high in the sky all over again as she came down to earth. rúben was already holding her by the waist and a small part of her back so she didn’t crumble down trembling messily, small kisses were already scattered all over the hollow part on her shoulder blades, like he didn’t care if she just pulled out his hair so hard she was now afraid he’d catch up to her father’s balding.
“i love you,” but this time she didn’t go all ice on him. “i’m sorry i made you think the otherwise.”
and rúben, being the perfect gentleman, proved how sorry he was by sending her a bouquet of flower the next day. her, a florist, a bunch of imported fresh white tulips before she could wake up and go to the flower market early in the morning. how he did that when it wasn’t tulip season, she didn’t know, and the effort didn’t pass as overlooked by her eyes.
yes, the effort of scouting the rare tulips, but most of all the effort he’d go just to saywhat the flowers implied; i’m sorry. just like his words.
of course he was forgiven.
584 notes · View notes
fanlovedlt · 5 months
Text
Can anyone help me find this twisted wonderland X reader fanfiction on Tumblr?
No I don’t really remember who wrote it obviously and I don’t remember the title but I remember a little bit of the summary and I don’t know whether or not if it’s as accurate, but if anybody has any details about it, please let me know by leaving a link or the username of the blog.
Now also fair warning, this was a twisted wonderland X reader, which is the type of fanfiction that does involve death of the reader, but still living after but with more trauma and dark themes so if that’s not something you’re comfortable with then please don’t interact with this post unless you know Where to find it or who wrote it:
So, from what I remember, the fanfic was about how the reader who is the prefect of the NRC somehow had this ability that prevents them from dying, but can still feel the pain before then.
For example, when the reader first met ace, Grim shot of fireball him, which was supposed to hit the statue, right? Well, from what I remember, I think the fire ball hit the reader instead, which they died being set on fire but even though they were resurrected, ace and grim ended up remembering it since they saw with their two eyes but we’re confused why nobody else believed them about what happened.
It’s a very confusing concept for me, basically the readers ability has something to do with how only people that were there in the scene can see that they indeed die but if anyone else were not there during the scene then they either wouldn’t believe that they did die or they wouldn’t see them getting injured at all therefore, no proof or evidence of anything regarding a death.
Now another example I can remember since this was a long time ago since I’ve read it, is that the most common deaths that the reader experiences is with every overblot in which once that happens, then everybody starts getting more aware that not only are their closer friends trying to protect the perfect from getting hurt, but also trying not to lose their mind because they get traumatized every time it happens.
If anybody finds it again, please let me know and thank you. 
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gothic-thoughts · 2 months
Text
So Damn Into You
(yeah, i'm offically into him, idek how. He's cool so he gets the pretty title now 💙💙)
König x Black Fem Reader Fluff
Friends2Lovers, Forbidden LoveAU, Medic!Reader
CW: Mutual pining, secret relationship
Word Count: 1924 (give or take)
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Like any other soldier, when König would get injured in the fields or on the training grounds, he would rush to the infirmary. Unlike any other soldier, he would be there looking for you specifically so you could fix him up. While his visits were usually more spaced out, this was the third time this month that he was making his way to the med bay to see his friend and favorite medic; not just because he likes the way you treat him, but because his eyes can stare at someone all day without getting tired.
He walks in, towering over everybody enough to see you bandaging another wounded soldier so the head nurse assigns another nurse to him to try and replace you, but he declines her help, disgusted that she would ever try to replace you. The head nurse tried to convince him to cooperate, but he ignored her, clenching his hand into a fist as he calls you. You look up with a smile when hearing his voice. The head nurse in charge of tending to his wounds steps out of the way, now revealing you to König. 
“Colonel König,” You chuckle, quickly finishing up with the soldier’s bandages, “You're back...again?”
“Uh, yes.” His Austrian accent speaks over the noise of the area, “I believe my skills have made me a bit careless.”
You walk over. “I'm seeing you here too often, sir. I'm starting to think you're getting shot as an excuse to see me.”
He smiles under his mask, knowing you were correct. “I assure you that it’s an accident every time. Besides it’s nothing but a little slit across my arm this time. See?”
He raises his arm slightly to show you the cut through his shirt and arm, his words downplaying how open it actually was. You hold his arm and examine it, missing when his eyes narrow at your chief nurse, shooting a glare at her.
"See? Nothing more than a scratch."
"It's more like a slash, Colonel."
"In any case, I know you can handle it; if your superior will allow it."
You hide a smirk and look at the head nurse, waiting for her to give permission, knowing her word couldn't outweigh the Colonel's. She stares at the two of you, unsure of what to say before she gives a deep sigh a nodding. You throw a quick ‘thank you” over your shoulder as you carefully guide the giant man to an infirmary bed and sit next to it, keeping his forearm raised as you examine the slash across it.
König watches you intently, sniper hood hiding his cold expression, his eyes darting between his bleeding arm and your latex-gloved hands, then over to the other soldiers being treated, seeing their eyebrows either raised or furrowed at the scene. You bend down to get your medical instruments under the bedside table, missing König’s glare in the soldiers’ direction, drawing away their stares as you sit back up with gauze, wound-cleaning saline, and a suture kit. 
“I can’t believe an enemy got this close to you, Colonel.”
“Ja, me neither.” König’s knowing smirk grows behind his mask, “I admit, not my proudest moment. Though, this is nothing compared to what I did to his head."
“You mean his face?”
"What's left of it, yes."
You couldn’t help but snicker at his nonchalant tone mixed with the morbidity of his comment. He makes an effort to suppress the smile playing at the edges of his mouth wondering why you did so.
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It had been 3 weeks since the last time she patched me up and I found myself searching for another reason to return to the infirmary but my stitches were not yet healed and I haven’t had any missions to go on to warrant any other injuries. So I was stuck for weeks without seeing (Y/n)’s face brighten when I walked into the office. I had no other choice but to talk to her about something, anything. It was driving me mad not being in her presence for this long.
Hell, at the very least, I would walk by the infirmary hoping that she’d see me through the window and wave but, I've had no reason to be in the medical wing without looking suspicious. But today, I had a mission that I'd be gone for a little over 2 weeks, so whether I liked it or not I needed to have a clear head. I had about 30 minutes before the chopper left, giving me enough time to speak with her.
"Nurse (Y/n)," I smile as she opens the infirmary door.
“Holy—!” She rests her hand over her racing heart, looking up at me with wide eyes, “Jesus, Colonel! You scared the shit outta me.”
"Oh, I'm sorry." My gaze wandered down, taking in her clothes without her uniform over it. “I didn’t mean for that, I had just walked up to the door.”
She lets out a huff and a chuckle, “Goddamn, it’s even worse cuz you’re bigger than the door.”
I chuckle, “Again, I am sorry about that."
Her squinted eyes roam my body, “You don't look like you're bleeding, Colonel. Or even hurt for that matter...”
"Nein," I replied, with a chuckle keeping his hands behind his back. "Not this time."
(Y/n) raises her eyebrow in disbelief, “No bullets? No gashes?”
“No bullets, no gashes. Can we... well if you're not busy, can you...?" I close my eyes and groan, "I want to speak to you."
“Oh, uh... yes sir...?” 
I only wish she could see the speed my smile instantly drops behind my mask from seeing her smile fade and her voice turning more professional and cold. Did I sound too assertive? I didn't mean to, I just wanted to get it out. Now she probably thinks she's done something wrong.
(Y/n) hurriedly steps aside so I can step inside the mostly empty infirmary, giving me more butterflies since I'm not used to us being practically alone. Bad enough I don’t know how she’ll react if she’s expecting something serious and it's just something about my feelings.
"Is now a bad time?"
“No, sir, I was just going on break.” 
"You do not have to call me 'sir', (Y/n); you know 'König' is just fine." I give a fake chuckle to lighten the mood once again, "You aren't in any trouble."
"I'm... not?"
I knew I sounded too commanding. "No, no; of course not. I just need to speak with you before this mission starts. I'll be gone for about 2 weeks."
"Oh, whew. Okay, what's up?" 
"Do you have anywhere more... private where it's just the two of us?"
“I mean the other nurses will be in and out so no. The best I can do is—” (Y/n) pulls me over to a gurney, instructing me to stand as close as possible to it as she draws the medical curtain closed— “That?”
“It’s..." I smirk behind my mask, heart fluttering at the way she takes initiative, “Perfect, (Y/n).”
"Okay, good. At the very least, we'll whisper."
I take a deep breath, ready to speak, but the inhale takes in the scent of her perfume subtly mixed in with the sterile scent of disinfecting solution to which my already racing heart skipped a beat. I let my eyes linger on her glossed lips as I step closer despite the weakness in my knees— just close enough that she can feel the weight of my towering presence without me even touching her. I freeze in place, ashamed at how strong my desires can be.
“Colonel.” She snaps me out of my trance with her whisper, “This tension is driving me crazy; what did you want to talk about?”
“Right, sorry. I just... I wanted to know something before I left, (Y/n).”
“Okay, so what is it, Kö?”
"Did you, no, have you ever thought about me as more than just a superior officer?"
Her eyes widen and she chuckles uncomfortably as she refuses to make eye contact as she starts to ramble about the dating rules in the army—the main obstacle keeping me from this very moment in the first place.
I tuned out her lies and watched her full lips talk and talk as she tried to explain herself. She couldn't even look at me, her dark eyes darted all around the area meanwhile I just became more and more infatuated with my medic. 
I force myself out of another trance with a soft "ahem" before wordlessly stepping forward and stopping her mid-sentence. She gulps thickly, giving me all the answers I need. I keep moving towards her until her back presses against the sliver of wall left between the curtain and the gurney. We continue to hold eye contact as I step closer until I'm mere inches away, chest right in front of her face. 
"I know it's against regulations. But that's not what I asked you." I finally speak, "And you have thought about it. Is... is the regulation the only reason you feel that way?"
(Y/n) bites the inside of her cheek, nervously. "Colonel, please tell me this is some kind of elaborate test or... or--"
"Unfortunately, it's not." My stomach flutters and turns. "I'm sorry if I made you uncomfortable but I need to know if the signals are mutual and not just... just..."
Her eyes widen, dark skin flushed red with embarrassment as she leans a little closer with curiosity but she stops, still afraid of the consequences. Of course, who wouldn't be? Both our careers were on the line for even talking about this but I just can't help myself; only being able to see and talk to her when I'm injured isn't enough anymore. I rest my hand on her shoulder and lean down, trying to ease some of her tension without breaking a boundary.
"König, we'll get in trouble for talking like this. I'll get in trouble..."
"I'm not talking about what could happen if we get caught, (Y/n); I'm just asking if—"
"König." 
"You.... yes?"
She takes a deep breath and admits in a whisper, "I feel the same. I like you too, König."
My heart swells and races in my chest as I try to process her words, making sure she isn't testing me. I give her a skeptical squint and this time she steps closer and cups slowly reach up to my cheeks, almost making me lose my mind.
"I'm serious, just don't tell no one."
"I won't."
"I mean it, Konig. I like my job here."
I take her right hand from my cheek and gently kiss her knuckles through my mask, "We don't have to tell a soul, (Y/n). No one has to know; we can keep this secret for life, just you and me..."
She smiles at me, a wave of relief washing over her before she hugs me tightly and makes me gasp in surprise. I looked down at her with a smile behind my mask, not believing what was happening before I finally wrapped my arms around her and hugged her like I would never see her again. She finally pulls back after a while. 
"Verdammt (dammit)." I say under my breath in frustration as I check my watch, "I gotta gear up soon."
"We can continue this conversation in a week."
"Ja, of course. My office, maybe?"
(Y/n) nods happily. "Be careful. Don't come back injured."
"Of course," I chuckle, winking at her, "I'd never let them get that close to me."
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river-of-wine · 9 months
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Why do you think Arthur and Molly are so similar ?
I am SO glad you asked!
Molly is basically the human embodiment of foreshadowing in the story. Everything that Dutch ends up doing to the gang, he does to Molly first. Most of all, this treatment ends up landing on Arthur.
Dutch preys on the vulnerable, and this is apparent simply by looking at the members of his gang. Orphans he raised, marginalised people he has taken in, young women struggling to support themselves. Initially selfless acts that grow more sinister when you realise how Dutch has truly indoctrinated most of them, having them do his dirty work for him. Molly too, though her circumstances are much different, is vulnerable. She is unable to defend herself or leave camp, since she can’t use a gun and presumably, since when she runs away she does so on foot, can’t ride a horse. She is a physically weak young woman and an Irish immigrant in a country that is outwardly unkind to both facets of her identify and one that she is unfamiliar with.
Molly is incredibly devoted to Dutch, to the point where she has nothing in her life without him. Her entire existence now revolves around him, and she cannot safely leave even if she wants to. Though Dutch starts the game returning Molly’s affection, the second she starts to become unappealing to him - voicing her own opinions, speaking out against his treatment of her, doubting anything he does - he discards her like she is nothing. He is incredibly manipulative to her, with his literal gaslighting, constant berating of her emotions which he scolds her for in an uncomfortably parental way, refusing to speak to her even when she is trying to help him and, eventually, even revoking her right to be called by her first name. She hates being called by her surname, and she tells him this. It changes nothing. Now that Molly has lost her appeal in Dutch’s eyes, he hunts for a replacement. He begins to find this in Mary-Beth, a woman even younger than Molly and much more timid towards him, who doesn’t speak out against him or complain about his behaviour.
Arthur has quite literally dedicated his entire life to Dutch. Arthur was raised by him and as he says in chapter 2, nothing means more to him than the gang. Though certainly not vulnerable how you would expect, Dutch found him when he was. His existence revolves around Dutch, and now with the high bounty on his head and the people he must protect, he cannot safely leave even if he wants to. Much like we saw with Molly, Dutch starts to disregard Arthur when he begins to show doubts in his plans and his motivations. Throughout chapter 6, we watch their bond deteriorate, with Dutch even eventually abandoning the title of son for Arthur similarly to how he refuses to call Molly by her first name. Just as he did with Mary-Beth, he finds a younger, more vulnerable option to replace Arthur in Eagle Flies. In front of Arthur, he tells Eagle Flies that he never had a son, and shortly afterwards mocks Arthur’s weakness brought on by, might I remind you, his fatal illness.
For each of them, protecting the gang are hugely important acts taken by Molly and Arthur near the end of their stories. For Molly, it takes the form of her refusal to tell the law about them. We know that she was sweated multiple times, implying at the very least intense interrogation and at most outright torture. Molly had every reason to want Dutch dead, but for reasons we never get to hear from her she decides to keep the gang safe. For Arthur, we see him do his best to save everybody in the gang he possibly can. Primarily the Marstons, dying so that they can be safe.
These connections never go directly acknowledged by Molly and Arthur, but there are two very notable moments between them. First, there is Molly’s only “mission”, though it really isn’t about her. She tries to open up to Arthur before she is interrupted, telling him her worries about Dutch and asking how he seems to Arthur, if he thinks he has changed the way Molly knows he has. Changes that Arthur has not noticed, that he will not notice until it is much too late, that the gang ignored but Molly saw. Secondly, it is Arthur who prevents Dutch from shooting Molly as she confesses. She is encouraging him, asking him to shoot her, but Arthur holds him back and talks him down. He never fully believes her, voicing subtly that he doubts Molly’s lie. It was the very most he could have done for her in that minute, and with that scene marking the start of chapter 6, the very act of protecting the supposed traitor that Dutch is ready to kill is the first of many acts of defiance Arthur will make.
Lastly, there is the similarities between two of their most tragic lines. Molly’s poem repeats the phrase “I’ve nothing left, I gave you all”, being the closing line of the final stanza of her poem, one that is undoubtedly about her relationship with Dutch. Some of Arthur’s final dialogue, spoken to Dutch, is “I gave you all I had”. Though coming from much different circumstances and backgrounds, Molly and Arthur ended very much the same. Giving everything to Dutch, and being cast aside by him.
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Can I request the brothers with a half demon MC?
Yes and I hope you´ll like it, I also added Diavolo because I thought it would be interesting, hope you don´t mind :D
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Lucifer:
a half Demon? how interesting, it seems like Diavolo´s plan to unite all three realms already succeeded, even more so without them knowing
honestly he will be a lot more strict in the beginning simply because he thinks your more durable than a simple Human
I mean he´s right you are more durable than a simple Human but he still shouldn´t treat you like his Brother
he´s pretty brutal sometimes
after that? I mean everybody knows they will be simps
but he will show you of every chance he get´s only difference between normal Mc is that when you can use your Demon form he will invite you only to show off
bonus points if your a Pride Demon, this will just increase his Pride
Mammon:
during the first meeting he mistook you for a new Demon and tried to take your money
needless to say Lucifer caught him
didn´t stop him from trying to take your money afterwards though, or any time after this until you got your pact with him
he will definitely say he doesn´t care that your partially Demon but watch his face when he finds out your Parent was a Greed Demon, which in turn also means you are one
he´s trying to impress you with things any Greed Demon would be impressed with, mostly a lot of valuables
it might take him a while to understand that you won´t be swayed by this
and that you don´t even act like Greed Demons usually do (blame the Human parts)
Leviathan:
he feels threatened by you for some reason??? a Human who until a short while ago didn´t even know they were partially Demon???
or maybe it´s because he can tell your an Envy Demon and doesn´t want you taking his title, actually would that even be possible?
Whatever! he only needed you to trick Mammon no reason for the both of you to ever interact again
if only he knew that not only will he eat those words but also deeply regret them
because not only are you very charming but now he has someone who can understand his Envy
I mean his Brothers can say they understand how he feels (they won´t) but there is no one better than Envy Demon to know what another Envy Demon is gong through with!
even if they are just half
honestly I feel like you guys could have an even deeper bond, more so if you´re an shut in Otaku too (but he probably won´t believe you)
Satan:
was genuinely curious if your birth was as weird as his
he knows it won´t be but he´s curious about the challenges of a Half Demon, Half Human (especially if you´re a Wrath one)
did it cause you problems later in live? for example more aggressive behavior? social isolation? trouble seeing yourself as your own person and not an extension of your parent?
the last one might be more personal
will definitely invite you to fuck shit up with him and maybe the occasional murder
just casual Wrath bonding you know?
he´s very curious about your life until you meet them, for example how old are you? I´m sure you´ll live a lot longer than the average Human
oh? why he´s asking that? no reason :)
Asmodeus:
doesn´t matter what type of Demon you are, even if you were his own Sin, as long as you aren´t interesting he won´t care about you
until he finds out you are immune against his charm and of course most important of all the untapped potential and power you have
then he´s all over you, the both of you are actually quiet inseparable
more so because of Asmo but you also enjoy spending time with him a lot
he´s very nice to you and always makes you look great
when he doesn´t get distract by you literally just looking at him that is
if that happens he will drop (metaphorically of course, those things are very expensive!) everything to keep eye contact with you
despite his charm being very useful it´s just so nice to look someone in the eyes without them being under his spell
I mean of course you are under his spell but it´s not because of Magic<3
Beelzebub:
definitely won´t like you staying with them
what if you eat his food? he knows best how Gluttony Demons are, even if you say no there is no way you would be able to hold back
didn´t believe you when you said Mammon made you eat the Custard and actually tried to kill you
Lucifer was actually surprised that despite this both of you befriended each other
Beel literally went from “I don´t want them” to “if anything happened to Mc I would kill everybody and then myself”
because your friends now he doesn´t mind sharing his food with you either, especially when he notices you haven´t eaten in a long while (ten minutes)
he does not know because your only Half Demon your Sin doesn´t affect you as bad
Belphegor:
well this will be awkward
I mean you did free him and made pacts with his brothers, but your still partially Human so…
yeah he was still a dick but at least he hesitated for a moment and got kicked in the face :)
which ended in a brawl between both of you, they needed Beel and Mammon to separate both of you
after that you became friends? everybody is just as confused as you on how this works
honestly it seems like the only time he was interested in you being partially Demon was when both of you meet
now he just uses you as his pillow and doesn´t care what you are
Diavolo:
a Half Demon how marvelous! he didn´t even start the exchange program and it already shows results
now all he need to find you an Angel and all three Realms would be united…
oh you heard that!? oh… you didn´t actually? great! it wasn´t anything interesting anyway!
spoilers he will regret thinking about setting you up with an Angel, he thinks you would be a better ruler for the Devildom :D
he´s definitely interested in the history of your family, which parent is the Human? did you ever enter the Devildom? can you use magic? do you have a Demon form? and countless more
maybe you would be willing to talk with him over Dinner?
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fanmoose12 · 3 months
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Hiya moose!
I am craving for some cozy levihan where Levi thinks to himself how lucky he is to have Hange besides him and him getting extra wuggly cuddly. Hehe.
Lazy mornings just like this are Levi's favorite.
The quietest moment of the quiet days when he knows he's not needed elsewhere - there is no meeting he has to attend, no report to write, no training to oversee, no expedition to prepare to.
The world outside fades to the background, ceases to exist altogether, and what's left is only Levi, his warm and cozy bed, the fluffy blanket that he spent half of his salary to purchase and since then not once regretted doing so, the rare rays of sunshine filtering through heavy curtains, and, most importantly, a person that he's sharing all of it with.
Levi slightly shifts, peeking at them beneath half-lidded eyes. He watches how the rhytmic raise and fall of their chest, listens to the quiet snores that at some nights seem obnoxious, but right now, he finds them utterly adorable, raises a hand to sweep away the bangs that get in their face.
Hange is beautiful, even if they haven't showered for days at end, even with eyes bloodshot and face pale from exhaustion, even covered in grime and blood, they're always beautiful to Levi. But this Hange - relaxed and at peace, and so warm in his hands - is the one he loves to look at the most.
He's probably the only one who had seen them like this. He's the sole bearer of the sacred knowledge that they sleep with their mouth slightly open, that they take up too much space in bed, that at nights they tuss and turn, but in the mornings always end up in his arms somehow.
It's in the mornings such as this that Levi lets himself wonder how he got so damn lucky.
Despite his mighty title of humanity's strongest soldier and his performance during expeditions, he knows he's not a match to Hange, not really. They're brilliant in ways he can't even comprehend, and they're kind in ways that always catch him off-guard.
And Hange is so many other things too. They're funny and sometimes sweet, they're strong and so, so brave, and it's in the moments like this one, where there is no danger, no threat looming over their future that Levi asks himself what they've found in him.
They must have found something, otherwise why would they be in his bed right now? Why would they pick him out of literally everybody else?
There must be a reason, a far deeper one than his fighting skills that Hange can gush about for hours on end, or his dry humor that seems to endlessly amuse them, or his face and body that, when they're alone, Hange can't stop complimenting.
There must be something unique about him, something that Hange's brilliant mind picked up on and their incredibly kind heart decided to embrace. But that, Levi decides, is a conversation meant for long and cold nights, not lazy and warm mornings.
"You're staring like a creep, you know?" Hange whispers, catching him off guard. He didn't even notice that they have woken up. "Can't get enough of my handsome face, eh?"
"Can't understand how I got involved with a nuisance like you," he retorts and instantly chastices himself for it. It's not what he meant to say, it's what he was thinking at all, but Hange - brilliant, kind Hange - sees right through him, knowing better than anyone that in moments such as this one - what his mouth says and he actually feels are two very different things.
They snuggle closer to him, placing a head onto his chest and mumble, still a bit sleepy and so, so cute, "And yet you love that nuisance."
Levi kisses the crown of their head and for once - makes an effort to be honest, "That I do," he confesses softly.
Hange looks up at him, meets his eyes and gives him a smile so gentle that it snatches all breath out of his lungs.
He pulls them closer, eager to taste that smile on his lips.
The kiss is soft at first, nearly chaste, but Levi knows it'll grow much more heated, that much more passionate soon.
Lazy morning like this one, after all, are only meant for love making and joy.
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