Tumgik
#and the rest of them r there too i guess
discountskeppy · 2 months
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jofoes need some grub..
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drewsaturday · 4 months
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the thing is i rly adore adult characters in kids cartoons that are kinda left to develop in the background but still have some fucky romance stuff going on, but i also want more of them?
and to get that, i should probably watch an adult show where baaaasically the same characters would be fucking on screen.
but something about losing the context of them being in a kids cartoon with no spotlight ruins it for me???
?????
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Unslaad prt 3 [wip]
“-and then Dov dove into the hole.”
Rhaenyra attempted to curb her laughter but couldn’t help the small giggle that escaped, hand out to accept Prince Lucerys’ help down from her stallion.
“After which Lucerys laughed so hard he tripped over a rock and fell into the hole with me” Dov bowed under Lucerys’ attempt to swipe at them. “He tried to climb out on his own for almost a full hour before he gave up and let me carry him out.”
What fortitude Rhaenyra was able to drag together was subsequently destroyed in less than three sentences as she clutched her stomach and let out a full-belly laugh. Surprising a large majority of the staff secretly bustling about the Red Keep as they paused to watch the Realm’s Delight quickly redden in embarrassment. She cleared her throat and ruthlessly attempted to cull the flush in her cheeks.
She watched as King and Prince exchanged looks again, one outright smiling while the other was doing his best to keep his lips flat.
“I apologize, I don’t know what came over me.” Rhaenyra straightened where she stood, in this moment she represented the Targaryens, and therefore needed to-
“Laughter is the best medicine in existence, you need not say your apologies where no offence was taken” King Dovahkiin said softly, then louder “besides, it’s good to know that I wasn’t the only one to find the moment humorous. Lucerys keeps trying to convince anyone who would listen that the ‘Dov dove’ is hilarious. Which I will say again Lucerys, a joke is not funny if it needs an explanation.”
Lucerys scowled “the pun is hilarious, I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
King Dovahkiin, in their infinite grace and courtly presence, stuck out their tongue at the Prince and blew a raspberry.
Rhaenyra didn’t laugh this time, but she did crack a smile at the antics.
She wondered if this was what was like to have siblings.
-
Despite the levity, and the surprising rapport two royals from Dremvothkrif built with the servants, the grand dinner arranged for Rhaenyra’s official announcement as heir to the Throne was a tense affair. Officially now, the Princess of Dragonstone, Rhaenyra sat with her father and Prince Lucerys – while King Dovahkiin was sat next to her father’s remaining side. Decidedly pushing out Otto Hightower and Daemon.
She could feel her uncle’s stare like a weight upon her brow, but somehow, she didn’t quite feel the need to return the stare, not with Prince Lucerys’ oddities set before her like a particularly interesting puzzle. The Prince had no issues dining; indeed, his table manners were impeccable and his voice polite and actually riveting as he described some of the places that were safe for people in the Shadow Lands. Certainly, she could tell there was much he was hiding, but the very way he seemed to poignantly avoid speaking of it seemed to be a quiet message to keep away from the topic without lying to her outright.
She appreciated it, the older she got the more times she’s had to sift through the lies of the court even when she was still her father’s cupbearer. “now I must ask Prince Lucerys-“ she watched as another servant delivered a plate of carefully arranged cooked vegetables and fruits, adornments of which were clearly picked off another dish before being delivered to the Prince. “-why are you receiving so many of these odd dishes?”
Prince Lucerys swallowed before glancing around and leaning towards her, Rhaenyra leaning forward just a little closer so the younger of the Septums wouldn’t have to speak any louder than a whisper.
“Dov can’t stomach vegetables” he said quietly “and usually they prefer to eat meat raw, product of having lived in the Shadowlands for so long and they don’t really have enough Valyrian blood to counter it. We didn’t want to be rude so I just try to eat what I can while Dov quickly sends over the things they can’t eat.”
“Oh” Rhaenyra looked around “I can have the servants send it away.”
Lucerys seemed to wince before smoothing his expression once more, smiling at a passing servant who quickly emptied another plate of vegetables into his. “We can’t waste food, much of Dremvothkrif’s traditions stand on being the most efficient as possible with the resources we have so throwing out otherwise perfectly fine food is looked down on, but Dov just really doesn’t like it on a personal level, bad experience with it. Normally we would host a feast with the rest of the town but…”
Rhaenyra nodded sympathetically, “Of course, would you feel better if I merely had the servants off-duty take what they can and perhaps pass out the rest?”
Lucerys smiled gratefully “that would be wonderful if you can – but ah, if anyone questions it, please place the blame on me. We appreciate you being so accommodating. I don’t want you to have to go through any ire because of it.”
“You are our guests, and of the blood of Old Valyria, it is the least we can do” Rhaenyra rested her hand on his shoulder briefly before signaling for one of her maids to whisper the order. Lucerys in the meantime did a wonderful job distracting several nobles from interrupting her, regaling stories of storms and mountains that spewed fire. It wasn’t long before she could divert her own attention to the on-going conversation between her father and the King of Dremvothkrif; listening intently as King Viserys asked questions of Dremvothkrif and the Shadowlands.
“I apologize if I come off as rude Dovahkiin” King Viserys said “but I am personally intrigued by your name, it does not seem Valyrian in origin.”
“It isn’t” Dovahkiin confirmed, choking down a well-cooked piece of hog as quickly and as politely as they could manage given the circumstances. “it is a Septum tradition actually, usually the child receives a title of sort for their deeds in the traditional tongue made up of words in the Dragon Tongue. Dovah kiin, in my case, can be translated roughly into Dragon born. My personal name is kept secret save for family unfortunately I am unable to share it. It is the opposite for Lucerys as he is of Valyrian blood, and therefore it is his Septum name that is kept personal.”
“Of course of course, I do hope you can forgive my curiosity. I have always been somewhat of a scholar, and remorse the fact that the Targaryen clan had managed to save all but the barest hints of its literature and culture” King Viserys smiled, tired and weary. Reminding Lucerys of the King the man would become in a few years’ time. “I’m glad that Dremvothkrif was so open to reconnecting, I swear to you Dovahkiin that you and yours will be treated as close as family during your stay. Ah, I have noticed you have not drunken any wine, is it perhaps not to your taste?”
Dov winced “I apologize, it is a habit of mine not to drink any liquid that is inebriating. The surroundings of what is livable on Dremvothkrif is rife with danger and beasts seeking to reclaim and expand their own territory, so I am amongst the first to respond to attacks of the like. The largest one we had was a Hydra that would have almost destroyed Graolerin a few months ago had it not been for our paranoia. I am sure the wine is very delicious.”
Rhaenyra glanced towards Lucerys and noticed that he too had not partaken in a drop of wine. Interesting.
“A hydra?” King Viserys asked, intrigued.
“A three headed beast; one head spews acid, another of flammable gas, and the third lights the gas. Furthermore, they are known for their accelerated healing and cutting off one head merely rapidly guarantees growth of two more. We try not to kill any if we do not have to, as they are the natural hunters of the dragons that call the Shadowlands home. Though they are thankfully not as dangerous when still in their fledgling ages – they usually have only the three or five heads – thereby making it easier pierce the body through to the heart.”
“That sounds…” Viserys winced “gruesome.”
“Indeed” Dov laughed “I’ve many scars to prove their danger, but thankfully as much as they are territorial, many of the established Hydras keep to their own. It is the young ones that tend to press against the boarders on the rare occasion.”
“Then, a toast to you then King Dovahkiin” King Viserys presented his cup before Dovahkiin, standing and addressing the other guests now that attention has been called for. “May my daughter’s reign be a wonderful one when she comes of age and may yours be many years still, so that the Westeros and Dremvothkrif would stand together, as allies in this harsh world. To new beginnings!”
Dovakiin politely toasted with their cup before setting it down, a boisterous chorus of echoes repeated after the King.
Talks continued, with Princess Rhaenyra and King Viserys both taking in tribute from the other Lords for her official ascension as heiress to the throne. It was around the time of the party winding down and people beginning to drunkenly find their way back to their rooms when Dovahkiin spoke again in regards to a matter outside of sharing knowledge and history.
“I believe it would be about time to present gifts of our own” Dovahkiin said, a smile quirked on their lips.
“Oh?” King Viserys looked on as two servants came forward.
“Thank you Edward, Arthur” Rhaenyra’s eyes snapped to the King of Dremvothkrif as they greeted the servants by name. Rising from their seat to walk around and help support this massive square shape covered in a black silk. Daemon had moved up the tables by then, sliding closer with a drink in his hand to the scene while the guests that remained sober lingered in interest. Whispered gossip of this new ally coming to such an event without bearing tribute suddenly halted in the face of evidence otherwise.
Dovahkiin snatched black silk off, revealing what was underneath.
Rhaenyra allowed herself to gape before forcibly shutting her jaw closed.
Presented in a beautiful frame of dragon glass and a clear pane of glass was a map of delicate detail. Carefully drawn specs presented mountains and forests and rivers while washes of ink seemed to make each little detail rise up from the parchment. The map had some age, slightly yellow with time and slight scuffs at the edges where it must have been torn slightly in some places – it would have been an insult had the work of the map not been so fine.
Even the Shadowlands, normally a jagged blob of ink on any map, was beautifully rendered and revealed a mountainous landscape with slightly darker swirls that appeared like smoke.
“I will freely admit that Dremvothkrif has not been as isolated as we would like people to think” Dovahkiin explained with a mischievous quirk on their lips. “For the past ten years we have been sending teams of explorers to assess a large majority of the known world and record them to the best of their ability, to expand on the knowledge gathered generations ago closer to the founding of Dremvothkrif and the arrival of the survivors of the Doom. This is the most complete result of our labor for now. I hope you don’t mind the lack of lettering, it is the master copy and therefore I wasn’t to add any locations until the information recorded was certain.”
Daemon was the one who spoke this time. “You made this?”
If Dovahkiin was surprised by the sudden new voice, they did not show. “I did, sort of? It’s really just a culmination of the work my people did once they returned home. But having a hand in the creation of a gift is a type of tradition in Dremvothkrif. To show one’s regard and sincerity, the gift is usually of one’s own creation. Although admittedly-“ they reached out for one of the bags held by the servants and pulled out several very old set of books covered with a deep colored leather, as well as one in black that seemed very different from the others. “this one is a bit of a cheat, it’s merely my copy of some of the books we were able to save from Old Valyria, and my own findings regarding some of the translation work.”
Dovahkiin walked over, presenting the books to Daemon, drawing Viserys’ eyes, and barely held together hysteria as it was the first time in a very very long time the older had seen his usually mercurial brother flush and in awe as he carefully reached out for the books as if they were his own children. Which might actually not be too far off actually, considering the history of Old Valyria and anything to do with the Targaryen motherland was something of a precious hobby both brothers shared.
Rhaenyra just stared unashamed, though she herself was taken aback by the gravity of what her family had just been given, what can she say? Her uncle was quite fetching in that shade of red.
“And finally, to the Princess of Dragon Stone and Realm’s Delight, to Princess Rhaenyra Targaryen” the Dovahkiin reached into a different bag, this one subtly glowing before fading back into the fabric, quicker than the eyes could catch. Dov presented a beautiful set of leather armor that gleaned with iridescent scales complete with a pair of trousers, gauntlets, and boots.
Instead of allowing the servants or maids to take it away, Dovahkiin presented the armor to Rhaenyra directly, not letting go until Rhaenyra clutched the armor between her hands. Surprised at the lightness of it all, and watching the scales shift in a rainbow of color under the light. It was then that Dovahkiin allowed others to take the gauntlets and boots, all of which seemed to be a hybrid of some sort of thick black material that seemed almost wood in texture, only select parts of it being lined with this strange leather. It was well made, and definitely created with her growth in mind – the armor having several carefully tucked and hidden straps for the ultimate ease of adjustment.
However, there was also a sword.
Bladed at one edge, it was a stretch of sword that seemed to be forged to almost look like an odd tree branch, twisted until coming to a delicate bend that met with a straight line at the back of the sword. The hilt was curved at the end with a gold pommel that had just enough space to rest a pinky within the bend, closer inspection would reveal the fine filigree carved into tiny details but not enough to make the sword particularly unwieldy. Near the tang of the blade was a sprinkle of what seemed to be rubies that shined in twinkles under the firelight, almost giving the sword a glow of its own. It would be long for her age, but in time the length would be comfortable.
Lucerys, who could recognize an enchanted weapon when he saw one, knew it fucking glowed.
The rest remained in awed blissful ignorance.
“Normally, I would have the intended wielder name the weapons I make” Dov said, voice seemingly carried by nothing more than the hush that overcame the party. “So I hope the Princess would pardon me for naming it before I would ask, the name of the blade is thus: Yolvey, the Fang of Flames. May it protect you well Princess.”
Dovahkiin manipulated the sword with nimble fingers, the metal singing as it cut through the air until they held it in front of them. The flat of the blade comfortably in the middle of their face. 
Suddenly it wasn’t just a King presenting gifts, suddenly it was something else. Something more. Something otherworldly, although there was only one person in the entire room who could figure out why.
The Laat Dovahkiin closed their eyes and placed a reverent kiss on the flat of it, the blade seeming to hum before settling – before Dovahkiin walked around to kneel on one knee before Rhaenyra, blade presented forth.
With shaking fingers, Rhaenyra accepted the sword, the handle warming pleasantly under her hands – and in her mind’s eye a voice whispered beneath her subconscious.
‘Master.’ Whispered the sword.
Now given life.
^0~0^
“It might have been too much, was it too much?” Dovahkiin asked, pacing the room.
“What exactly did you enchant her sword with?” Lucerys hissed “it glowed.”
“Oh you know, if she cuts it with the right motivation it may or may not make the victim burst into flames.”
“...Dov.”
“I thought it would be useful! Plus! Dragon rider, flaming sword? I couldn’t just give her a regular sword, what was I going to do? Make the thing poison whoever it cuts? That’s so boring.”
“It sets people on fire Dov.”
Dov huffed crossing their arms. “I was an adventurer too you know, before I took an arrow to the knee.”
“But did you have to do that whole ceremony? I think my Step-Father, Mother, and grandfather might have fallen in love at the same time for a short time and I am very uncomfortable with that fact” Lucerys said, partially joking, just to see the abject look of horror on the old dragon’s face.
He took a swig from a privately acquired pitcher of wine in front of his seat at Dovahkiin’s fireplace. They had given them what looked like the near best damn room in the entirety of the keep, he was fairly certain this room had been reserved for one of his siblings at one point, but he couldn’t really figure out if it was him or Jace.
“It’s Skyrim tradition” Dovahkiin defended weakly, suddenly meek “you can’t gift an enchanted weapon like that without blessing it, I had to. Besides, your family is too young for me Drog.”
“I don’t think that’s what did it Dov.” Drog made a vague motion with his hands, deliberately referring to all of Dovahkiin. “It’s…this. Being around you can be very intense very quickly.”
“Huh.”
Lucerys blinked, moving away from his drink for the moment. “You know I meant that as a joke right?”
“No, you aren’t as wrong as you may think” Dov’s fingers twitched, a chair dragging itself from the side closer than what would have been advisable to the open fireplace before crashing in. “I just didn’t expect them to be influenced by my presence to such a degree, I hadn’t realized it would be different here.”
Dov paused before turning to the blazing fire, reaching out and arranging the wood so that they were neatly stacked. Expression contemplative before taking back their hand and patting out what cloth managed to catch on fire. “I just didn’t expect the level of magic seeped into their bones; I could hardly tell them apart from the Dov that laid within that pit.”
Lucerys leaned forward “And I’m only learning this now? What do you mean you have an influence?”
Dovahkiin shrugged. “I don’t know the exact nature of it, I only know that my presence has an effect on living creatures. They kept my body the same, so I’m uncertain if it is something they added, or it is simply a result of my age. Could also be my magic or the souls of the Dov I carry. It could even be whatever magic Old Valyria had used to bond riders to wyverns. The only thing I know of for certain is that most Dov recognize me, perhaps on some level, that bond they share with their wyverns might give them more insight than most would have normally. And when we met…”
“Arrax had died” Lucerys muttered, taking a bigger gulp straight from the wine pitcher. “And I was dead.”
Dov tilted their head to rest on their shoulder, knee tucked into the seat. “Are you going to sleep?”
“No.”
“Me neither.” Dov drummed their fingers against the arm of the chair. “Something doesn’t feel right.”
Lucerys straightened “trouble?”
“Not sure yet” they said softly “I just know it’s coming.”
“Yeah” Lucerys whispered, holding the pitcher close “I feel something too. Storm. Big one.”
“Mn.”
They sat in silence for the rest of the night.
-
The Targaryens that called the Red Keep home perked up as a maid came in and curtseyed before them at their breakfast.
She bowed apologetically “I’m sorry your Majesty, my Lady, my Lord. Neither their highness King Dovahkiin nor Prince Lucerys were in their rooms.”
Rhaenyra frowned “did they leave any note as to where they were going?”
Thunder ominously rolled throughout the town, shuddering through the Red Keep.
“No my lady, but I did inquire to some of the morning hands and they said they had both sped out of the room near sunrise in a most urgent manner.”
Then another ran through the door, one of the watchmen stationed around the city walls, a younger recruit by the look of him as he bowed before the royal family hastily. Stopping short of crashing into the dining hall completely by the King’s guard “T-the guests- the Prince-“
“Take a breath boy” Daemon commanded “speak clearly.”
The watchman took a deep breath, lungs audibly wheezing as he did so before straightening to the young man’s full height. “At twilight his highness Prince Lucerys and the King Dovahkiin had run out and jumped off the wall.”
Rhaenyra nearly dropped her utensils. “Excuse me?”
“Something had sped past the walls and caught them, we weren’t entirely sure what to do save for raising the alarm but King Dovahkiin- they said not to and to call up however many able-bodied maester we could rouse to the wall. He- After an hour Prince Lucerys delivered two crewmembers who seemed on the verge of death. Another hour later two more. As far as we gathered, lightning had struck the main mast during the night and the combination with the storm had capsized their ship before they could make it to harbor.” The watchman took another breath “Just a few minutes ago I was ordered to report and request linen wraps to dress wounds.”
“Has the Prince returned?” King Viserys demanded.
“We saw something at a distance, but I had been sent off before it was confirmed Sire.”
Daemon rose to his feet “what the actual fuck is with these royals-“
“Daemon” King Viserys sighed.
“You can’t argue against their oddness brother” Daemon moved to walk out the door “I’m going to figure out what the fuck happened – you, get the linens that were requested.”
“Yes my Lord.”
“I’m coming with you.”
“Rhaenyra” King Viserys sighed.
“You placed our guests under my responsibility Father, if they are still out there, I should be among the first to fly out for their return.”
“…very well” King Viserys grumbled “but come straight here after, I want to know what happened.”
“Yes father.”
-
“What in the fuck.”
Rhaenyra agreed.
“Move out of the fucking way.” The King of Dremvothkrif yelled.
Maesters and guards scrambled out of the way as the bird-like dragon dipped down in slow circles. Prince Lucerys sat behind the reigns by himself.
Which meant that King Dovahkiin was was hanging by the dragon’s talons. Daemon would be impressed if he wasn’t so damn distracted by the makeshift sling that was holding one man aloft in the dragon’s grip, a series of clothes tied in complicated knots that looked like they came out of a hodgepodge of rope, cloth, and what seemed to be two shirts that made up the handle of this strange looking sling.
The King landed on the stone wall without so much as a pause, reaching out to catch the bottom of the sling.
“Bo mulhaan.”
Daemon could feel his body freeze before he could wonder what happened, yet something in his mind whispered, ‘not you’.
Exchanging glances with Rhaenyra confirmed that she had felt the same thing.
Yet above them, the feathered dragon Rhaenyra had faced managed to hover just until Dovahkiin was able to catch whoever remained in the sling, setting them down gently onto the floor. Impressive considering whoever the man was laid wider than the foreign King was tall.
“Hi lost dreh” Dovahkiin yelled up.
“Mindoraan” Lucerys called out.
Riiziizul screeched before turning to land, Prince Lucerys leaping from the seat to land into a roll.
“Where are those fucking linens?!” Dovahkiin hissed.
“Here!” One Maester’s apprentice sped past Daemon and Rhaenyra, who stood in watch as the two royals seemed to command the chaos to heel in an admittedly admirable fashion. To the point where almost everyone present for the storm seemed to skip over their presence.
“Fascinating.” Rhaenyra muttered under her breath.
Daemon tilted his head in her direction without moving his eyes away from the scene before him.
“It’s as if they’re in battle” Rhaenyra continued “but what are they fighting?”
Daemon glanced at some of the rescued men that seemed to have glanced the touch of the Stranger. Some passed out with their wounds but breathing. Others awake and encouraging their fellows to stay awake, the few still standing was up to their necks deep in the chaos alongside everyone else. Whether motivated by the adrenaline running through their veins or the energy dragged out of them by the foreign royalties who told them to move or be moved was anyone’s guess.
There was a maniac energy in their eyes, a frenzied movement to each command with each moment of running from one injured man to another. Screamed or yelled or snarled over the thunderous storm and flashing lightning. Uncaring of wet clothes, uncaring of wet stones and the sweat that mixed with the cold rain. There were grim expressions on all the maesters of the like that Daemon had seen very few of; whatever this battle was, you’d think that everyone was racing to snatch away each and every soul from the Stranger.
“The hell are you two standing around for?!” Dovahkiin barked at them “help me hold this man down so I can set his shoulder back!”
Daemon moved forward before he realized he was doing it, and he swore he was going to get to the bottom of why that is.
As soon as he finished with whatever this tyrannical king wanted him to do.
Unbeknownst to any party, Lucerys was in a crisis.
The frantic chaos of a team of maesters, his stepfather and his own mother was bizarrely familiar. Even with the crazy old dragon ordering them around and somehow getting the two most stubborn people he’s ever known to take orders from someone who wasn’t each other or his grandfather.
Ignoring the storm was second nature to him now, ignoring the hair sticking down to his head and the wet fabric that clung to his form and made his entire body heat amongst the chill. He worked quickly and efficiently as he could afford, cleaning and wrapping wounds and carefully assessing and noting down any major injuries he could find. The years had taught him to be a passible healer, but he wasn’t quite good enough to fix every single thing.
As the storm slowly began to pass over King’s Landing, sunlight filtered through. Rain petering into a soft drizzle that washed some of the blood away into the crack of the stone walls. He wiped and cleaned and bandaged as he could, checked and double checked to make sure the man was breathing and the lungs were clear of water. Attempting to avoid looking at this man’s face as best he could until he could avoid it no longer.
High cheekbones. A handsome face with a sharp jawline that was showing just the slightest hint of beard, wet and long blond hair curled from the humid storm, one eye shut from exertion. Another that was no longer there.
‘How’ he thought, half hysterical ‘how are you here?! Why?!’
He felt someone nudge him at the edge of his mind, Dovahkiin, sensing his ongoing conflict. Pushing him back from the brink with a firm but gentle shove.
Lucerys bit his bottom lip as he carefully brushed away the damp near silver locks from his current charge’s face, fingers gently sinking beneath to assess any damage to the skull – and finding only one spot that was slightly beginning to swell. The coldness of the rain had halted some of the progress, but he could tell based on the size and location that he would be unconscious for some time.
No blood from there though, which he supposed was good.
“-ire? Sire? Does this man require anything” one Maester asked.
He shook his head “head injury and some minor bruising, he should be fine once he gets dried off and warmed. Are there any others who need assistance?”
“No sire” the maester glanced in a direction that drew Lucerys’ eye. Towards Dovahkiin who was hovering over someone’s leg, expression blank before twisting the foot back from its odd position and ignoring the howling screams of its owner. Daemon at the other side holding the man down while Rhaenyra’s brow furrowed in concentration to focus on their instruction, wrapping the splint as evenly as she could in such.
“Any dead?” Lucerys asked, startling the maester, counting the heads – what brief glances he was able to take of their ship had informed him that there should’ve been at least thirty crew members, it was a little over the number.
“N-no sire, all of them are alive, if not awake.” The maester bowed “I-I admit I haven’t- this is-“
Lucerys turned back to face the maester, rather young, maybe not quite a maester but an apprentice of one – or just someone who was misfortunate enough to have enough knowledge in the matters of medicine and healing to be dragged along with Dovahkiin’s orders.
“-why sire?” he was asked.
Lucerys blinked before shrugging. “They needed help. So we helped.”
“But they are- they’re just-“ the man tried and failed to continue his sentence, but the message was clear enough to understand. ‘They’re just sailors’, these men were just regular people. Why is it that a King and a Prince would try so hard to save them? Lucerys himself hadn’t quite realized that it probably was odd that a King and a Prince were trying so hard to forcibly drag a couple of sailors to the land of the living with so much vigor. That was just how things were in Dremvothkrif; he hadn’t realized it was so odd.
Lucerys whipped the water running down his face, the sun beginning to warm the rocks below as the whole world seemed to calm. Seemed to take a breath, a moment of respite from the chaos of the storm.
“I’m not sure” Lucerys said honestly “we just wanted to.”
He watched as Dovahkiin turned on their side to lie on the wet stone, heaving, just before laughing and yelling something into the sky in a language Lucerys had never heard before.
He laughed regardless.  
Daemon and Rhaenyra, wet and damp with dirt clinging to fancy silken cloth – sat near them, looking on incredulously.
-
“How soon are they leaving?” Daemon hissed.
Viserys looked up to find both his brother soaked to the bone and his daughter nowhere in sight, giving leave for the King to stare daggers at his brother in question.
“Do you know what we saw when we got to the wall?” Daemon paced in front of his brother’s desk “that Prince Lucerys flying in on a feathered dragon with the King dangling off its foot.”
King Viserys frowned “what for? That dragon seemed perfectly fine flying with the two of them.”
“They were transporting some injured man” Daemon hair flew into his face as he gestured “and then proceeded to order the rest of us around like we were some sort of pack dogs and the worse part is I followed, Rhaenyra and I just fell in line like a couple of pups and I cannot figure out how.”
King Viserys expression morphed, as if the sheer idea that either Daemon or Rhaenyra would just allow themselves to be ordered around without fuss was the true horror in the entire situation.
“We can’t just send them away merely because their presence is…unsettling” King Viserys motioned towards the pile of books “they gave us anecdotal literature from Old Valyria, never mind the map and the armor. These records and books provide a clearer image of Old Valyria than we’ve ever hand in the past few centuries after Aegon the Conqueror – and this-“ he lifted up the dictionary “has been the key to understand all of it.”
Daemon sighed, dragging over a nearby chair and crashing into it. “…I don’t like it Viserys. They’re too…strange.”
King Viserys snorted “you sound like every other preacher of the seven Daemon, are you sure your coin isn’t teetering?”
At Daemon’s continued silence, King Viserys paused in his reading to really look at his brother. Watching the younger’s expression twitch every now and then, no doubt going through plan after plan after plan.
“What is this really about Daemon?” he asked softly. “I’ve spoken little with King Dovahkiin, they seem kind.” He kept an eye on his brother’s expression – tracking every twitch and minute shift of expression with an expert eye. It could have been a number of things, but as much as he wished it wasn’t the case, it has been a very long while since either of them had really sat down to talk much about anything these days.
Especially after Aemma passed.
“I don’t trust that power they wield, and I don’t trust they won’t use it to burn us to the ground.” Daemon’s fingers tended to twitch a little when he was restless, drumming against his thighs or against the arm of the chair if he wasn’t up and moving around. If Viserys remembered their childhood correctly, the number of tutors who failed to train the habit out of it couldn’t be counted on both hands.
“Have we given them reason to?” Viserys rose a brow.
“…no.”
“Do we plan on giving them a reason?”
“…no.”
Viserys nodded, leaning back into his chair. “I spoke with the maids in charge of seeing to their needs.”
“And?” Daemon snapped.
Ignoring this, Viserys continued “she said that Prince Lucerys requested a pitcher of wine and entered the room after King Dovahkiin. Inside there was no noise save for the sound of conversation, the context of which we have no idea of. She did hear, however, that they were worried for an oncoming storm.”
Daemon frowned.
“Then, two hours before sunrise, when the morning servants were beginning their duties. Both ran out of their rooms as if the Stranger himself was at their heels. Ser Westerling told me that Dovahkiin bellowed loud enough that he thought a dragon was attacking the keep. They jumped off the ledge and onto the dragon just as soon as she appeared” Viserys let that sit for a little while longer while he poured himself something to drink. “Their ways of dragon riding is mysterious Daemon, even Rhaenyra couldn’t make heads or tales of it. Only that King Dovahkiin and Prince Lucerys of Dremvothkrif spoke, and the dragon responded to it. Which means a quite a few things.”
Daemon inched closer, head tilted sideways in curiosity.
“They have an entirely different way of dragon riding, one that could not have come from Old Valyria – but they do hail from the Shadowlands” Viserys nodded to the hand drawn map encased in a frame of dragon glass, now hanging in his office. “My guess is that much of both their behaviors stem from the dangers living in such a place entails.”
“Which is..?” Daemon drawled.
“One simpler, but more brutal than ours brother. I do not think Dovahkiin was attempting to make their accolades impressive when they described Hydras, there wasn’t any attached story of some grand battle against one of the creatures. It was condensed, informative. As if I was simply being told how to get to an inn faster through a shortcut. It means that the Septum clan most likely rose to power from sheer strength and home advantage, rather than cunning. They are dragons that happen to be resting Daemon, give them no threat and they will have no reason to retaliate.” Viserys took a drink before setting it down, a smile faint on his lips. “It’s honestly rather refreshing not needing to worry about political interests or manners of the court. I can feel safe knowing that if my daughter ever were to find herself in trouble with them around, they’d sooner more likely rip heads off the one responsible than see how they will make themselves heroes in my eyes and the eyes of Rhaenyra.”
After another moment of silence, Viserys sighed and turned to stare at Daemon amidst his brother’s obsession with preparing for every little moment of potential betrayal. Not that he blamed him too much for it, after the announcement of Viserys’ ascension to King, his brother had grown twice as weary when the whispers began of Viserys being ill fit for the throne. Too soft, too cautious, not daring enough. A scholar rather than a warrior. Daemon apparently took it upon himself to be the extreme version of what everyone wanted if only to counter-balance his brother and make Viserys seem the obvious better choice.
It isn’t’ that Viserys was ungrateful for it, but he mourned the man Daemon could have been if he didn’t have to lean into his extremes.
“It isn’t wrong that you’re so weary Daemon, but I truly believe they don’t wish to pose any threat to us so long as we do not give them any reason to. If you so wish, spend time with Prince Lucerys if King Dovahkiin is too influential for your liking. I know Rhaenyra has a soft spot for the boy.”
“She what?”
He rolled his eyes. “Oh stop embarrassing yourself, it’s unbecoming of you. When I asked of Prince Lucerys’ marital status, his King said in no uncertain terms that any offer of marriage to the Prince of Dremvothkrif will be declined or ignored and rudely rejected if I so much as breathed such a request. They said, and I am repeating in verbatim: ‘My brother is uninterested in such prospects’ and changed the subject. Not that you would have known considering how hard you were staring at Rhaenyra and the Prince as they talked.”
“What the- no marriage alliances? How the fuck do they maintain peace between families?”
King Viserys shrugged “When I tried to ask, all they said was ‘I tell them to cut it out, and if they don’t I drag the ones pushing the argument and throw them into the sea to cool off’.”
Daemon snickered despite himself, “if only it were so easy.”
“Yes well, I imagine there’s a very good reason they made Dovahkiin King in a land known to be the home of dragons and what other man-eating creatures also live there for a very good reason.” King Viserys frowned “I only worry that I don’t know the extent of that power. Is it magic? Is it simply strength? Resourcefulness? Perhaps all those things combined in certain combinations – I am unsure. And we won’t know unless they remain as guests for a while longer.”
Daemon groaned “so you want me to hang around the boy for information.”
“I am certain they’re more genuine than most of the people in this kingdom Daemon” Viserys deadpanned “but I like the fact that we know virtually nothing about them just as much as you do. I will pursue the thread with King Dovahkiin, can I trust you and Rhaenyra will figure something out with the Prince? And no, you cannot deliberately humiliate him or pick fights with him.”
Daemon sighed but nodded. “Fine. You really are lucky I love you, you know that?”
“Sometimes I wonder if it’s more of a curse than a boon” King Viserys muttered to himself.
Daemon scowled.
“Yes yes, love you too, now get your wet ass off my furniture.”
[Previous]                                                                                                       [Next]
#lucemond#unslaad#now featuring the rest of the Targaryen fam who I think I know of#I'll bring in the others soon enough don't worry#I just wanted to establish these two first#honestly i'm pretty sure they ooc#but yunno what you don't fuckin give ur brother an entire conquered kingdom that you originally conquered yourself and not love him a littl#tho whether that's platonic or romantic is anyone's guess#idk Daemon does kind of give me brothercon vibes from the clips#also i did insert maybe a little bit of 11's habits into this man#he really is an amazing actor#but i just wanted to give daemon something other than this looming murder cat he's got going on#just too hard to write for me#I also like to imagine that the way dovahkiin does things is really odd to this court because all of them are fuckin nobles#lucerys just has about a couple centuries worth of experience getting used to it#but if you think about it#the dragonborn in skyrim the game is pretty much a commoner#a landing owning commoner after a while#but a commoner still with the option of being murder hobo or just a person who takes job requests from people#and coming from a land where e v e r y t h i n g wants to kill you#when someone calls for help or is being attacked the usual instinct is to see what's up and kill the attacking thing first if it's attackin#but that's just how i played the game#also one the men they saved#hohohohoh#p l o t#now to murder or not to murder ser cole#idk that man gives me bad vibes i might just off him#or just maybe knock him around a lil#next time on dragon riding the drama-#if ur reading the tags here's a fun fact
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opens-up-4-nobody · 2 years
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#my desire to b productive vs my desire to create horribly earnest narut0 drawings#its just. i have a scene in my head that's like way too complicated to draw. but im gonna draw it anyway#and its gonna haunt me bc the dialogue is clunky. but whatever im gonna do it. this weekend. that is#i said id work on more writing school stuff today but ah i didn't sleep much and i did lots of focusing all day so like#brain is sorta mush now#snd all i can thibk abt is how much i lov 1ruka being narut0s number one dad brother#i just want to create a million scenarios where 1ruka cries over how much of a good kid narut0 is and how much bullshit he has to deal with#i just want someone to feel that pain for him. i mean. i guess thats s4sukes deal. but it feels different coming from a parent#from 1ruka it feels more. i wanna protect u. and from s4suke it feels more. i understand. lets destroy the world together. make them pay#they r the true ultimate narut0 stans. narut0 defense squad. everyone else back the fuck off#k4kashi is a 2nd teir stan. only bc hes got his own weird bullshit in canon. in my head hes also on the narut0 elite defense squad#wtf am i talking abt. ugh i need to sleep. i have to talk to ppl tomorrow. ugh no i should work on stuff#agh. fucj it maybe ill just wake up at like 5am and work on it then. and shift into proper work mode at 9 or whatever#blah. i now understand why i was feeling so like normal before this. its bc i was well rested lmao. im not at familiar levels of#exhausted unstabled energy. lov that for me#unrelated
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ribbonbonny · 1 year
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gamin favs cus ppl were doin m in a server and. well. sometimes it is just fun to do these
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orcelito · 1 year
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OK listen I'm still not quite sold on them being a pairing But
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Kisara and Dohalim r killing me anytime they r next to each other. Making me feel very bisexual
#speculation nation#yes i put kisara in the angel getup look it just fits#plus the dark armor. oughhh#and of course i put dohalim in his dark outfit too. it just looks too good#LIKE in an ideal world they would be. a lesbian and a gay man. they just have those vibes.#but also i am not immune to Dohalim borderline confession poetry#and also the fact that they r both Incredibly beautiful people. and side by side... oughhhhhh#we'll see if the game manages to convince me. im still on the fence. but a lot of ppl seem to ship them So . we'll see#either way they r definitely not straight and i will uphold that to the end of the earth#they could be bi4bi tho. i could accept that.#alphen and shionne r basically canon lol and i couldnt stop it even if i wanted to#law and rinwell r cute and also so fucking oblivious. theyre both so clueless. it's adorable.#they obviously have crushes on each other but they dont even recognize it themselves#too busy relentlessly teasing each other. and ykno what good for them#they'll figure it out eventually.#shoutout to a game that can get me to appreciate straight pairings lmao like Sure i guess i'll join this boat if it's well written#ive been busy working on side quests now that i can finally access the rest of the world again#land of water shit was BRUTAL.........#but im killing giant monsters left and right so let's goooooo#tho theres a handful where i start the fight and im like Nope nope nope nope nope#the weird earth wind and water appearances... huh...#LAW WANTING SO BAD TO FIND THE FANCY FLOWER FOR RINWELL but im sorry that deer is too scary. we'll get it eventually.#enjoying this game. and enjoying the chance to properly level up. Oh yea
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shdous · 3 months
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CINNAMON BUN — SHIDOU RYUSEI
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whenever shidou gets attention from girls, he doesn’t turn it down. but why would he? that’s what you’re for.
contains: female reader, penetration, semi public (car sex), a creampie, pet names including cinnamon bun, jealous reader, shidou being himself (gross), he’s in his twenties. 3.3k words.
note: shidou nation where r u .. shidou nation come home
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ryusei has a bad habit.
a bad habit of letting other girls flirt with him. he doesn’t return the energy of course, but he won’t exactly deny it either. he’s not going to flirt back—nor give off the impression that he likes what’s being said to him, but the words stop or i have a girlfriend probably won’t leave his mouth either.
why? well, you have your theories.
you’re sure he get a little ego boost out of it—out of knowing that there’s someone other than you who wants to get in his pants. because let’s be honest—no one that flirts with your boyfriend has the intentions of starting a fairytale romance with him. he draws attention simply because he looks like he’d be fun for one night and one night only.
but really, he doesn’t entertain that.
in fact, sometimes he won’t even open his mouth in that situation. instead, he’ll stand there with a shit eating grin on his face until the moment you inevitably arrive back at his side.
because ryusei only lets other girls flirt with him when you’re around.
“shidou, right? i wouldn’t mind leaving with you.”
you’re standing nearby, within both earshot and plain view of your boyfriend when you hear these words.
clubs, bars—neither are your usual idea of a fun evening, but ryusei likes going to them for a few reasons. one, he gets to bring his hot girlfriend along with him. two, he gets to be the guy at the bar with a hot girlfriend. three, he gets to see his hot girlfriend in a hot outfit—if he’s lucky.
and tonight he is, because here you are—skirt sitting pretty on your waist, lips glossed pink, listening in as another girl hits on your boyfriend.
how fun.
getting onto the tips of your toes, you furrow your brows and peer over the shoulder of a man who’s inconveniently placed himself in your line of sight. while at your peak—you absorb as much as your eyes can handle.
first—ryusei’s sitting at the bar counter about a chair and a half away from you. he’s leaning back, glass in his hand, and if you had to guess—you’d say he’s chewing on the straw sticking out of it. he has his usual black elastic headband holding back his hair, but if you had to guess—you’d say a few of his little baby hairs have escaped it’s grasp by now. second—his company is lingering over his left shoulder, with a hand resting on the back of his chair. she’s standing up, so she’s looking down on him slightly, and she’s smiling too.
ideally, the third piece of information you take in would be the words leaving her mouth—but you think hearing her initial line must’ve been a fluke anyways, especially with how busy it is. instead, what you catch is her hand moving—in what you swear is slow motion—to the back of his neck.
you trust your boyfriend, one thousand percent.
he’s made it blatantly obvious that his obsession with you runs deep—it would probably classify as being unhealthy, even. but if that’s the case, why isn’t he moving?
doesn’t matter.
you can move, and you are—swiftly abandoning your task of getting your hands on a drink menu as you begin closing the gap. you take a detour around the tall gentleman—brush past a couple of people, and come to a halt behind them.
you feel your stomach do a backflip or twelve as you stand there, waiting to be noticed.
ryusei must have a sixth sense when it comes to you, because it’s only mere seconds before he’s peering over his shoulder and locking eyes with you—straw indeed tugged between his teeth as a grin blossoms behind it.
but he doesn’t do much else.
on the other hand, you don’t receive a whole lot from the girl to your left either—an unimpressed stare at best. it’s clear that neither has anything to say to you, and so you speak up.
“that’s my boyfriend,” you announce, and you don’t mean for it to happen, but the words come out like the tip of a blade—incredibly sharp.
they pierce through her, and judging by the way she’s retreating—you’re certain your message is received. the tiny little hearts in ryusei’s eyes are merely nails in her coffin.
she vanishes into the crowd, and soon it’s just you, your boyfriend, and the arm he’s snaking around your waist.
he sets his glass on the counter of the bar, turns himself in your direction, and spreads his legs a little bit—silently requesting for you to stand in between them, closer to him.
you don’t do much—other than stare.
“what’s up, buttercup?” he hums, tilting his head at you when you don’t accept his invitation.
“what the hell do you mean what’s up?” there’s a sour taste flooding your mouth courtesy of your boyfriend’s casualness, and you’re sure it’s visible on your face—likely in the form of some furrowed brows and a little frown. “did you forget that you have a girlfriend?”
ryusei’s eyes widen, and for a brief second you think you’ve caught him off guard, but then his tongue darts out of his mouth—licking over his lips before they morph into a cheshire cat grin.
big or small, any change in your attitude is always going to have his ears perking up and his tail wagging—because as much as he loves when his girlfriend is a perfect angel for him, it turns him on when you start acting like anything less.
“how could i forget this pretty face?” he coos—putting on a faux pout as he reaches up to cup your cheek.
his gaze floods with lust as he looks at you, and even more so when he glides his thumb across your bottom lip—slightly smearing your gloss in the process.
“apparently it’s pretty easy,” you mutter, pushing his hand away and avoiding his gaze by casting yours off to the side.
“hey,” his voice is a bit firmer, and he uses that same hand to grab your chin—forcing your eyes to meet his. “don’t be like that, cinnamon bun.”
ugh.
you unintentionally earned yourself that atrocious nickname after your first ever real argument with him. it didn’t last long—a few hours tops (he can’t live without your attention) but still, he said he’d accept a punishment for his behaviour. his mind was, without a doubt, in the gutter when he made that little deal—and so naturally, you told him he wasn’t allowed to finish inside you for a week.
the world might as well have been ending.
but, your boyfriend is spoiled beyond belief. you ended up letting him fuck you anyways simply to avoid having to deal with his shitty attitude and complaining. the one condition was that he had to cum on you instead of in you, and well, it didn’t take long for cinnamon bun to catch on.
you used to hate the name, but you’re more or less immune to all the weird shit that leaves his mouth by now. still, he has a knack for using this one exclusively when you’re mad—or when you seem like you’re about to be.
“ryusei,” you sigh in annoyance, but still draw a bit closer to him—placing yourself between his thighs with a pout. you need to know. “why can’t you open your damn mouth and say you have a girlfriend? you have no problem opening it any other time. do you like it when other girls hit on you?”
of course he doesn’t.
what he does like however, is when his girlfriend sees, and she comes over to intervene. it’s hot as fuck. the words he’s my boyfriend leave your mouth and his dick starts throbbing in his pants. yes, he’s all yours—and he wants to hear you tell every single living being in the world. twice.
but if you knew this, would you still do it?
“you’re thinking too much babydoll,” he hums—leaning in to press his lips to your cheek, where he peppers a dozen little kisses. “y’know i don’t give a shit about anybody else.”
the way he dodges not just one, but both of your questions pisses you off—even though you know he’s being genuine. everyone who knows ryusei knows that he has little to no regard for anyone who isn’t you. that thought alone is able to bring you a bit of comfort. not enough, though.
“i wanna leave,” you mumble.
the bubble that had been surrounding you and ryusei for the past few minutes pops, and all of your senses come flooding back. the static sound of people, the scent of someone’s cheap perfume—the lights, the music, the ache in your feet that stretches from heel to toe—toes that were on their tips for a few seconds too long, all because your boyfriend couldn’t shut down another girl’s advances fast enough. or at all, for that matter.
you definitely, absolutely want to leave.
“yeah? where’re we goin’ cinnamon bun?” ryusei asks—squeezing your hand to get your attention back onto him.
and god, he’s so cute—blinking up at you with his long blond eyelashes and his innocent little smile. there’s a heaviness weighing on your chest, and you’re starting to feel like…you don’t want anyone else to even look at your boyfriend tonight.
“anywhere but here,” you say.
hand in hand, you and ryusei venture outside.
as you walk towards your car, all you can hear is the little angel on your shoulder. she’s telling you not to fault your boyfriend for any of this. it’s not like he did anything. however, there’s something rather unpleasant sitting on your other shoulder, and it’s telling you the opposite. because it’s not like he did anything, right?
“ryusei, keys.”
the keys to your car—they’re in his pocket. your phone is there too, along with some gum and a little scented hand sanitizer. you didn’t really feel like carrying a purse around tonight.
which, in hindsight, might’ve been a mistake.
“oh, you mean these?” he grins.
dangling in front of your face is, your keys. one of the charms you have clasped onto the ring sways from side to side, almost like it’s mocking you. you swipe at them—claws out—but his reflexes are much, much faster than your own.
“ryusei, i swear to f—”
“relaaax, you can have ‘em,” he chuckles—taking a few steps ahead of you before turning around and winking. “but it’ll cost ya,” he adds.
you’re not sure what makes him think he’s in any position to be making demands, but out of pure curiosity—you’ll indulge him, just this once.
“what do you want?” you sigh as you follow after him. he’s already waiting by your car.
“hmm, what do i want cinnamon bun?” he leans himself against the driver’s side door—spinning your keys around his index finger as he lets his predatory gaze roam over your body like it’s his next meal.
and you can put two and two together.
“what makes you think you get to fuck me after that?” you bark at him—a little harsher than you probably should have.
“oh baby, of course i get to fuck you,” he coos—grabbing your jaw a little harsher than he probably should have. “how else are we gonna get rid of this attitude? y’know i can’t bring you home like this, pouty face.”
“well, i’m the one with the license, so actually you aren’t bringing me anywhere,” you mutter.
ryusei laughs—but it’s more of a giggle, and not necessarily the cute kind. he sounds a bit like a maniac, to put it bluntly. and you have to remind yourself that you’re playing with fire right now. if anyone else were to give him this much trouble—well, they probably know better than to try.
“i’m bringing you to the backseat, aren’t i?” he grins—briefly sticking his tongue out, because it can never seem to stay in his mouth for too long. he then leans in and plants a wet, messy kiss to your lips. “c’mon, lemme see my favourite pussy make a mess on my cock.”
shit. whenever ryusei starts talking like this—it’s impossible to not want to do exactly as he says.
you’re definitely biased, but praise from him is second to none—a little filthier than what most would deem normal, but still first place in your eyes. he knows how to get you going—how to make you feel hot and desired, feelings you’ve become obsessed with—unhealthily, even.
“you’re spoiled,” you mumble—hand now resting on the handle leading to the infamous backseat. “and a brat.”
as you climb into your car, you feel a little warm—like you’ve been standing beneath the heat of the blazing sun for a little too long. except, it’s about ten o’clock, and you have goosebumps littering your arms from the bitter night air.
ryusei appears in the spot next to you a couple of seconds later, the middle seat to be precise. he settles in—leans back, spreads his legs a little bit.
he barely has the chance to finish doing so before you’re lifting your hips and wiggling out of your panties—leaving the lacy fabric behind on your seat as you climb onto your boyfriend’s lap—all without being asked.
“mmm, you suckin’ up to me now sweetheart?” his hands tunnel beneath your skirt, where he grabs onto the fat of your hips.
before you can answer with a snide remark about how he’s the one who should be sucking up, his lips capture yours in another kiss—because he’d be stupid not to. after all, you’re finally where he wants you.
his hands start to knead and squeeze at your hips, and those somewhat tame movements lose all their innocence when he starts grinding you down onto the growing bulge in his pants like you’re his personal toy.
and it almost feels a little too good.
the warmth of his palms against your skin, the way your clit is rubbing against the fabric of his pants—a couple minutes of this and you’re struggling to even kiss him back.
so you allow yourself a brief pause—prying your lips away from his and turning your head to gaze out the window. he’s content with focusing some of his attention on your neck, kissing and sucking at the skin while your heavy breaths threaten to turn into whines.
and now that you’re looking, you note how many cars are in this parking lot. you’re parked fairly far from the entrance, but it’s probably only a matter of time before other cars start to fill in the spots around you. what if someone were to—
fuck.
ryusei plunges two of his fingers, middle and ring, into your cunt—disrupting your train of thought while simultaneously forcing a little mewl out of you.
“yeah, nice ‘n’ sticky for me, hm cinnamon bun?” he hums, sliding his fingers out and holding them up—separating them so you can see that they’re visibly sticky.
“shut up,” you huff, pushing his hand away and turning your head to the side again as a little heat finds its way to your cheeks.
“awww, y’know i love my dessert, baby,” he coos—popping his fingers into his mouth and sucking them clean.
“you’re gross,” you mumble.
but you’re still the one who’s reaching for the zipper on his pants. you’re the one maneuvering them down his thighs. you’re the one biting down on your lower lip in anticipation, because you might be the one who wants this more.
you wrap a hand around his shaft, pumping him a couple times before swirling a thumb over his oh so sensitive tip—spreading his pre cum. and you swear you can feel him pulsing, like his heartbeat is in his dick.
either love boners are real, or he’s already on the verge of an orgasm.
“c’mon, fuck me baby,” he whines as he bucks into your hand—patience growing thin with each second not spent inside you.
and it’s so hard to resist him when he looks this good—veins running up his forearms and tapering off, skin glowing beneath the artificial light seeping in through the windows, cock quite literally drooling in your hand.
your gaze flicks to the thin chain dangling from his neck. it has your initial on it. beneath that, there’s a familiar graphic on his shirt. you bought him that. lower down, you catch sight of his wrist. there’s a pink beaded bracelet there that spells out your name, followed by ‘s slut. you gave that to him as a joke, not expecting it to ever be worn.
wait, why are you mad again?
as you hover yourself over him, you can’t seem to remember. so you sink down—holding your skirt out of the way to let him see his cock disappear.
a breathy laugh leaves ryusei’s mouth, and then he groans, “shit, so fuckin’ tight babydoll. tryna make me cum already?”
you lean in to kiss him—hands roaming his chest as his own find their way back to your hips. he pulls upwards, and you obey the silent command—lifting yourself up and then back down, quickly finding a rhythm.
ryusei tilts his head back, leaning it against the headrest as he watches you with a hungry gaze.
but he’s not making you do all the work. he’s still using his strength to aid your movements—helping you bounce yourself along his shaft. and he’s angled perfectly—curved perfectly—giving you all pleasure and no pain, while making sure to rub against that little textured spot inside you.
“ryu, more,” you whine—back arched, nails carving crescent moons into his shoulders.
“yeah, that’s it baby,” he praises, letting his own nails dig into your waist. “pretty pussy’s feelin’ good, ain’t she?”
you respond with a moan—shifting a hand to his bicep for support and nearly cumming right then and there over how deliciously flexed they are, simply from the tight grip he has on you.
and it wouldn’t surprise him. all you’ve done is rile each other up all evening, so neither of you is expecting this to last much longer.
“gonna let me nut in you cinnamon bun?” he breathes out, gaze shifting from your hand to your eyes. “hm? gonna let me fill your sweet cunt to the brim?”
and what’s going to get you to say yes? maybe…
he runs his hands up your sides—slipping his fingers beneath your top and pushing it up. once he has your tits in his face, he sticks his tongue out—kitten licking at one of your nipples before sucking it into his mouth and humming in content.
“f-fuck, yes,” you gasp, arching into him further.
and he grins—he doesn’t stop his little makeout session with your tits, but he grins, and then changes his movement. from up and down to back and forth, he begins grinding you along the length of his cock—pushing you closer and closer to release.
you think your lips might be torn to shreds soon with all the biting you’re doing. you don’t want to risk a passerby hearing this—so you’re trying, really hard not to be loud, but it’s really hard not to be loud.
“ryusei!” you squeal, squeezing your eyes shut as you feel that first pulse from your walls.
and that’s as much warning as he gets, because one pulse turns to five—and soon your cunt is fluttering around him, causing you to slap a hand over your mouth as you crumble against him.
he groans, looping an arm around your waist to keep you in place. “shit, my turn babydoll.”
with his face nuzzled in your chest, and his dick twitching with excitement, he cums—throbbing a thick load into your cunt. and it’s a lot. a few lazy thrusts from your boyfriend causes a wet squelch to ring out, and a different you might find that sound embarrassing, but tonight—it’s music to your ears, because it’s only for your ears.
and god, you feel so much better. your bad mood has evaporated into thin air, and you no longer care about tonight’s events. well, the events that happened prior to entering your car.
but you also feel like you owe him something.
“i’m sorry,” you mumble, pulling back to look at him. and you don’t mean for it to happen—but your pout reappears for an encore. “do you still love me?”
he chuckles as he reaches a hand up—using it to squish your cheeks. “you’ve got my cum leaking out of your cunt, course i fuckin’ love you,” he coos.
you smile and snuggle back into him.
“yeah, you’re sexy as shit when you’re mad baby,” he hums. “we gotta do this again.”
and maybe you will.
maybe you can let other girls flirt with ryusei, so long as this is the romantic fairytale ending you get every time.
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dcxdpdabbles · 7 months
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Cave boy Danny just casually mentioning things that correspond with Bruce, like the time he stole an experimental power suit and shot a god corresponding with Bruce shooting Darkseid or the Infi-map being like the time Bruce was lost in the time stream, and the bats wondering how this kid can remain a civilian
Danny tried his best to not blink too quickly, as it may cause the stranger to shoot him. He honestly has no idea how he ended up here, but somehow, he was taken hostage alongside a bus full of people on his way to buy some chips.
He got tired of Alfred's instance to ban all junk food from the manor and had snuck out while the Wyanes had been busy going over plans for some big showdown with a guy named Scarecrow.
Danny doesn't know who that is and doesn't care to find out. The less he knows, the less likely he will have to deal with rouge. He's on vacation, dang it.
Or he was until the bus was taken over by a group of men wearing gas masks. They forced their way onto the bus when they stopped for some passengers, forcing the driver at gunpoint to drive them off course, and now they were heading to a wear house. People were crying, but Danny felt like screaming.
He just wanted spicy chips, and- maybe if he had the time- he would swing by the old junkyard to find a steering wheel for his ship! Fenton luck strikes again, it seemed.
"I wouldn't be so smug, Kane," One of the people in a gas mask shouts at him. He blinks up at the woman pointing her gun at his head but scoffs at her stance. His mother would throw a fit if Danny or Jazz ever placed their feet so off balance like that while wielding a weapon. "Once Dr.Crane is done with you-"
"I'm sorry did you just threaten me with myself?" Danny cuts her off. She pauses seemingly thrown before she sputters.
"No- not Kane, Crane."
He blinks at her. "You just said the same thing"
"C-R-A-N-E." She spells in a huff.
"Ohhhhh. Sorry, the mask makes it hard to understand you. Okay, so where were you? Dr. Crane is going to do what with me-?" Danny asks, leaning back in his seat, and waving his hand at her.
There is a moment of silence before she hits him across the face with her gun. "Don't you mock me!"
"Ow." He deadpans, rubbing at his cheek, and wonders if it was supposed to hurt. His healing had vanished the pain before her gun left his skin. "I thought we were having a conversation, but forgive me, I had no idea you had an inferiority complex and assumed everyone was mocking you. Let me guess, no one has ever told you they are proud of you, and now you are defensive of every action you take because-"
"Shut up!" His voice wobbles and Danny knows he hit the nail on the head.
"Does it keep you up at night? Does it freak you out that everyone can see your issues on your face as bright as day? I bet it does it. Bet it causes you to cry like a sad little confused kid who still can't figure out how to ask for help." He doesn't mock. He states it as fact because that is what it was. Fact. She does break down about it; he can tell by her reaction, and his tone makes it all the harder to swallow.
"I'll kill you!"
"Do it." He smiles. "Saves me from your boss. But will that keep you safe? Let's find out! How long will it be before he breaks you down? Ten, maybe fifteen minutes? And he will break you; you know he will. He's already halfway there."
"I-" She stumbles away from him. He doesn't have to see her face to know it's gone pale. Ha.
One of her crew hits her shoulder, having heard him speaking while the rest of the bus stares. "Stop letting him into your head!"
"Oh, what's your name?" Danny asks, blinking his large blue eyes at the man, watching his body language for clues. His eyes zero in on three belts and how they all match up at the buckle despite the fact that they are stacked on top of each other. Didn't Jazz once say that a belt with that much control hinted about attention to detail?
Hmm.
"Is the plan falling apart- can you not control it? The way life just moves on without you and that freaks you out doesn't it. The lake of control?" He asks, and the man jerks back. Bingo.
"Holy shit," A teenager whispers in the back horrified. "It's Dr. Crane jr."
"No, that's the Rabid Dog," Another answer. "Heard he made three elites cry after talking to him for more than ten minutes."
Danny is about to open his mouth when suddenly Robin crashes through the front window. Rude. There is glass everywhere now.
Hours later, Alfred franticly checks him over for injuries while the rest are freaking out. Apparently, they had feared to find Danny screaming from terrible visions but instead found him mentally breaking the hired goons with Jazz's training. "It's not like they did anything. I had a harder time stealing a super suit than those fruitloops-"
"You stole a what?" Tim cuts him off, eyes narrowed. Danny shrugs.
"I mean, haven't we all stolen a super suit?"
"Literally, no one here has done that," Steph tells him, and Danny tilts his head.
"You guys must have had boring childhoods. Surely you at least tried to organize your school into a battle-ready militia? No one can finish school without doing that at least once."
Dick raises a hand. "Brucie, how common is this in your world? Because that's alarming."
"All the kids at my school do that. My graduating class has done it three different times back in freshmen year." He shrugs. Cass makes a strange noise in the back of her throat.
"Not a lie. Brucie is strange," She tells the group, and everyone stares in bewilderment at the boy sitting on the medical table, even Bruce.
Danny smiles at them sweetly like he would at Vlad when the fruitloop is over, and he gets his parents to throw him out sooner than he wants to leave. It curves with just the right amount of innocence and mischievous nature that no one can tell if it's a positive or deadly expression.
"You are from a war-torn world?" Damian inquires, fingers under his chin with a frown. "How are you so carefree?"
"Oh no, we haven't had a war in about- eh fifty years? Give or take." He answers and once again Cass confirms the truth of his words.
This does nothing to settle their nerves.
"Every day I learn more about teenage Bruce, and every day I am more unsettled," Jason announces, and the rest of the Bats nod. Danny's smile turns broader and softer. It makes him more attractive but unsettling in a way.
Alfred sighs with a fond smile. "Oh, the memories. Master Bruce used to smile at his dates in the same way. I can picture him taking that sweet girl to the movies as if though it was yesterday."
"Bruce, how in the world did you get people to date you? That's creepy as hell. " Dick accuses the man who only shrugs.
"Oliver once told me it was part of the thrill. The idea that I could kill them."
"Why!?"
"I wish I knew chum."
Danny slips the control into his sleeve- he will rip it apart later for the Bluetooth piece. He will wait till the Waynes are too busy with Bruce's old stories about his first few dates to take apart the fear gas bomb he took from the woman earlier today. Could he use it as a fuel?
He'll have to do some tests.
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rafesfavgirl · 7 days
Text
boy, you got her — r. cameron
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part 1. part 2. part 3. here's part 4 (or whatever part this is to you, depending on how much you've read). i just couldn't help myself :)
❝ it's true, swear, scouts honor you knew what you wanted and,  boy, you got her ❞
pairing: rafe cameron x pogue!reader
context: after a fallout at the boneyard with jj and kie, you agree to a date with rafe.
words: 1.9k+
warnings: jealous!jj, mean!jj (kind of), so so SO fluffy.
"look, i know it's kinda sudden, a'ight?" rafe glances over at you, one hand on the steering wheel. "and you don't have to answer right now. just think about it."
when you and jj broke up, the last thing you would've guessed to happen next was getting into a friends-with-benefits situation with rafe cameron. now, you were sitting in the passenger seat of his truck after he just defended you to your ex-boyfriend and asked you out on a date. 
was it too soon? probably. could you really see it working? maybe. did you want to go? yes—as crazy as that sounded.
you turn your head towards him and shake your head. "i don't have to think about it."
a small smile pulls at the corner of his lips, but he fights it, just in case you said no. "you don't?"
"let's do it."
"yeah?" a chuckle falls from his lips, his smile widening.
"yeah," you nod, as he pulls the car to a stop in front of your family's house on the cut. you lean in to place a kiss on his cheek, making them turn the lightest shade of crimson, before opening your door to hop out. "come pick me up at noon tomorrow."
"fuck, fuck, fuckkkkk!" you slam your closet door close, just as your older brother peeks in to see where all the commotion was coming from.
"the hell's the matter with you?" he eyes you carefully, leaning against the doorway, sipping on a can of soda.
you ignore him and begin pacing around the room, tossing clothes from your dresser onto the bed. "what the fuck am i suppose to wear?" you lay out one casual outfit—a crochet top and dark-washed shorts—and one fancier outfit—a short, white floral sundress with pink flowers.
"since when do you care what you wear?" your brother walks into your room and looks at the clothes laid out on your bed.
"since i'm going on a date," you say, nibbling on your thumb, as your eyes shifted back and forth between the two outfits.
"jj's taking you out?" he asks, looking at you, clearly caught by surprise.
jj was never really the "date" type—not that you minded. while the two of you would spend time together all the time, you'd mostly do it with the rest of the pogues. either that, or you'd hang out in your room or the chateau.
"no," you shake your head. "we broke up."
"so who you goin' out with then?"
you pick up the dress from the bed, and hold it out in front of you, while turning to look into your full-length mirror. "...rafe cameron."
your brother almost chokes on his soda as he snaps his head towards you. "rafe cameron? you're goin' out with a kook?"
"is it really that much of a surprise?" you raise a brow and look at him through the mirror.
"nah," he shakes his head and shrugs. "just didn't think kook was your style."
"well i appreciate your insight, y/b/n, but it's time to go," you turn to shoo him out of the room and push him out your door.
"hey, could you—" before he could even finish his sentence, you slam the door in his face and return to getting dressed.
while you didn't clear up with rafe exactly what this date would entail, you figured it’d be better to play it safe than be sorry—he was a kook, after all—so you took off your robe and slipped into your mini sundress, before sitting at your desk to crimp your hair and scatter little braids around your head and do your makeup.
after doing so, your phone dings with a text from him, as you slip on some flat sandals.
rafe: downstairs, your brother let me in.
giving yourself one more glance at the mirror to fix your necklaces, you run your hands through your hair and spray on some perfume, before scurrying out your bedroom door and down the hall to greet rafe sitting in the living room with your brother sitting across from him.
"so what are you intentions with my little sister?" your brother asks, just in time for you to intervene.
"oh my god, y/b/n," you say, as rafe stands to greet you. "hey."
you walk over to him and he squeezes you to his side. "hey, doll."
"where we headed?" you asked, noticing him in a salmon colored polo shirt—which somewhat matched the color of the flowers on your dress—and light grey shorts. 
"a little change of plans, actually," he tells you. "i gotta go to this brunch at the club cause my dad's getting some award. you don't mind, do you?"
"we can totally leave any time you want," he adds, when a look of apprehension crosses your face.
you slowly nod, your eyes meeting his. "okay."
"yeah?" a small smile forms on his lips when you agree.
"yeah, let's go," you nod again, before turning to pull him towards the door.
"don't bring her back too late!" your brother jokingly calls after the two of you, as you walk out the front door.
"you're not dad!" you yell back, closing the door behind you.
the minute you enter a banquet hall at the country club, decked out with several round tables and decorations, full of kooks dressed in designer sundresses and polos, it dawns on you just how different your worlds are.
rafe was the kook king. these fancy brunches were a part of his weekly routine, while the fanciest place you'd ever been was the diner your parents took you to on your trip to new york a month ago.
"you ok?" rafe's hand snakes around the small of your back and he leans into you when he notices you glancing around, your fingers fiddling with each other. "hey," his finger comes under your chin to make you face him. "don't fret, a'ight? they'll love you."
they? who the fuck is they?
"top, kelce," rafe calls out to two of his friends, both of whom are dressed just like him, as he leads you to their table, which also sat two other girls—who you recognized to be rafe's sisters. "this is y/n."
"topper," the blond one holds out a hand to you, and the dark skinned one does too. "kelce."
"y/n," you shake both their hands, as rafe pulls out a chair for you to sit down. "it's nice to meet y'all."
"oh my god," the young girl seated next to sarah widens her eyes at you from across the table. "you're that girl rafe's been sneaking in and out of the house at night!"
"wheeze," sarah throws her a look, before smiling at you. "sorry about her, she has no filter. i'm sarah."
"yeah, i know," you nod at her. "kiara's talked about you."
"oh," the smile on her face drops a little. "you're friends with kie?"
"not anymore," you shake your head, and sarah's smile returns. "we were, but… she's showed her true colors." you reach for the glass of water in front of you and take a sip.
"tell me about it," sarah scoffs. "i had to learn that the hard way."
you continue making small talk with sarah, realizing she wasn't half the bitch kiara made her out to be, while rafe's hand rested on your thigh, as he talked to kelce and topper.
"drinks?" you hear a familiar drawl behind you, and find jj standing over you with a platter of mimosas, dressed like a waiter. "y/n?"
a smirk comes across rafe's lips as he turns his head, eyes shifting between the two of you. "hey, man. just one for my girl."
jj's clicks his tongue, as rafe smiles at you and gives your thigh a squeeze, but does his job, and leans down to hold the platter out to you.
"thanks," you avoid eye contact with him as you grab a drink from the platter, and are thankful when sarah calls on him from across the table.
"i'll take one too," she says and jj rounds the table to allow her to grab a drink, his disappointed eyes meeting yours.
a part of you felt bad—it had only been about a month—but then again, he moved on while you two were still together. so was there really a reason for you to feel guilty? you were just doing what he did—but better. at least you waited until the relationship ended.
"i'm gonna go to the bathroom real quick," you whisper to rafe, who gave you a small nod.
"why?" he asked, concern falling over his features. "you okay?"
"yeah," you assure him. "i just gotta pee. i'll be back."
by the time you got back from the bathroom, applause was erupting around the room, as rafe, sarah, and wheezie joined their dad on stage with their stepmom.
a smile came across your face as his eyes met yours from across the room and you leaned an elbow on the counter of the bar beside you.
"can't believe you stooped this low," jj comes up beside you, placing the platter down on the bar and downing one of the drinks himself.
"no," you turn your head to look at him and shake your head when rafe becomes occupied taking pictures with his family. "we're not doing this here."
you head out of the room, and he follows. "why? scared your new kook friends are gonna realize you're not one of them? i mean, seriously, y/n— how far are you willing to take this? just to-"
you snap your head towards him. "just to what, jj?"
"to spite me," he says. "i mean, have you looked in the mirror lately?" he motions a hand at your dress. "you're dressed like them, you're eating brunch with them, you're with him—this isn't you!"
"no," you hold a finger up to him. "i am exactly who i've always been. you just don't know how i look when i'm not in love with you."
a scoff leaves his mouth. "so our relationship really meant that little to you, huh?"
was he for real?
you narrow your eyes and shook your head. "no. you don't get to use that against me. you meant the world to me, jj. you were the one who screwed shit up the second you decided to sleep with kie. you are not turning this on me."
"oh my god, would you get over it?" he asked, clearly frustrated. "you slept with rafe cameron, y/n! we're even."
"even?" you spat. "after you betrayed me? broke my trust? my heart? oh, you have no idea just how even it's about to be."
"the hell's going on out here?" rafe joins you and jj outside the banquet hall, immediately coming to your side, a hand on your lower back. "is he bothering you?"
"no," you shake your head. "jj's shift just ended. he was about to go."
rafe shifts his eyes between the two of you, you and jj's eyes focused on each other.
your ex-boyfriend scoffs and shakes his head, but walks away, taking rafe by surprise.
"you wanna tell me what that was all about?" he looks at you, after watching jj leave. 
"nothing to tell," you shrug with a smile, tilting your head up at him. "you wanna head back inside?"
"you wanna stay?"
"yeah," you nod, snaking your arm around his back. "i do."
part 5.
i love soft rafe almost as much as i love canon rafe tbh.
reblogs and comments are deeply appreciated <33
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tags: @sublimepenguinpeach-blog @immyowndefender @chiaraanatra @ijustwanttoreadlols @wearemadeofstardust0 @rafesgiirl @solanathascientst @10ava01 @werewhatkilledthedinosaurs @void21 @groovycass @azrielsgirll @rroslitas @callsignwidow @zyafics
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melonn-soda · 7 days
Text
❝GIDDY UP & GO!!... ❞
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word count: 3.3k
warnings: subbot! male reader, domtop! boothill, genitals are not explicitly mentioned, grinding, no actual penetration, unnecessary descriptions how much there is of spit (sorry if ur not into that), predator/prey if u squint, nd gunplay if u squint really really hard (is implied), lots of pentnames, praise, save a horse ride a cowboy but I change a factor, cowboy hat rule because RRGHGHGRHRGHHGHGHG
prompt: boothill has made it his life mission to cash in the money he gets when he lands you behind bars. however, when it becomes apparent as to why you let him pursue you, he begins to chase you for an entirely different reason
notes: lost 50/50 to yanqing (he's still my kid nd I love him regardless YANQING HATERS LEAVE!!!!) when wishing for aventurine. now I'm pulling for boothill if I don't get my little gambler (if Sunday is playable and better than boothill then im sorry to my fav cowboy yeehaw) not beta read
fem aligned dni
“Oh, my.”
Boothill hates your guts. That’s a given.
He hates the way you carry yourself, the sly remarks you’ll make if you spot even one hint of insecurity, the slight draw on certain syllables to give a mocking tone- you, in general. Although he’s more on the bothering side than the bothered, you’re just so much more annoying than he thought even possible. Guess that’s why you’re known as a high-end bandit.
He’s been on your tail for weeks, chasing any leads (a lot of them, like you wanted the chase) he could get his hands on. He’s even seen you slinking around taverns, poker tables, run-down hotels- for fucks’ sake, even on horseback racing down a dirt path while attempting to rob a moving train. To feel the satisfaction of seeing the credits Boothill would obtain after putting you behind bars is all he wants to experience because this is just getting ridiculous.
So, why the hell now, is he bound up to the ceiling with chains thicker than his own ankle after finding your base?
The amused smile finds its way upon your lips and Boothill wants to do nothing more than to kick it right off. You were in a vulnerable position before he decided to sneak in, with your chair tipped as your feet were kicked up on a busted wooden table, a bandana resting over your eyes to block out the sunlight that dared to drift into the room. Boothill made the dumbest mistake by alerting you of his presence through triggering a well hidden trip-wire. Perking you up, you began to rise from your seat, swiftly removing the bandana from your eyes and fingers instinctively on the handle of your revolver that sat on the gun holster strapped to your thigh. The trap triggered so fast, Boothill’s sensors barely had time to react to it before the ‘snap!’s and ‘crack!’s echoed throughout the room and he was pressed against the ceiling within seconds.
Sharp glares were stabbing through your form as your hand rested on your hip as you whistled, looking up at the ranger in slight surprise and smugness. Aeons, he hated you.
“Wow, such a reckless move to jus’ prance yer way in here, no? Hey, aren't cha a Galaxy Ranger or somethin’?” You tease, swiveling your chair so that you could sit backwards on it, crossing your arms atop of the back rest so you could rest your chin on your forearms, “Surely, ya coulda suspected that I woulda set up a trap. But why waste all yer precious time on someone as measly as me? I ain’t nothin’ but a lil’ ol’ bandit.”
“You better seal yer pretty lil’ lips, doll.” Boothill hisses at you, his voicebank glitching to censor the words he so desperately wanted to say, “My bullets don’t take too kindly to sweet talkers n’ foxes.”
A laugh echoes throughout the falling apart structure then settles into a hum as you stand up and kick the chair against the wall, “Ya sure like to talk big. Kinda fits ya, though.” The chair slams right under Boothill and you slowly make your way towards it, the clinking of spurs on your boots highlighting every step you take.
Looking up at the suspended robot, your left foot raises and rests on the seat, leaning in to provoke the cyborg even further, “It’s kinda cute how ya keep pursuin’ me despite all these failed attempts. How ‘bout I give ya more of a reason to keep chasin’ me than only doin’ it for jus’ the credits?”
Boothill’s eyebrows creased in suspicion as your hand raises up to his face, contemplating just biting your fingers straight off until he hears the click of the safety and a metal barrel against the human skin of his jaw. His teeth clench in anger as you nearly laugh at his compliance, reaching above his head and snatching his hat right off.
Oh, he was going to kill you for sure-
The hat plops onto your head and you wink at him while sticking your tongue out.
What.
There wasn’t-
There was no way.
“Catch me if ya can, cowboy.” You say dismissively, briskly turning around and walking out of the rundown hideout. However, before you could get out of his line of sight, your head turned to face him and you said, “I’ll be waitin’. As always.”
Dumbfounded and a half an hour later collapsed on the floor from the wooden boards snapping- which loosened the chains, he replays that minute over and over again. He didn’t want to believe that had actually happened but his memory told him otherwise.
There was no way that you...
Whatever. He’ll think about it later. He needs to get his damn hat back.
The first time Boothill finds you, it’s in a more forest-y area. You’re on your trusty steed, talking to some other criminals with little interest. The cowboy watches the interaction, paying special attention to your reactions to see if you’ve noticed his presence. From what he could tell, you didn’t seem to see that he was watching while using the shrubbery to cover him and the horse he was on. The people you were talking to he recognized from some wanted posters, only worth some credits. Not as much as your bounty, though.
...
...You’re still wearing his hat.
“Look, partner,” Your voice dips into an exhausted, low, sigh, “I need that shipment as soon as possible, ya hear? I ain’t got too much time left before she’s reached her time. Ion care how ya get it, I need it in at least a week! Otherwise she’ll get real snappy and I’m gonna hafta put some lead in some poor person's head.”
One of the bandits flashes a worried look to another, “Boss, ya don’t understand! The Xianshou Luofu’s been havin’ sum sorta delay! We ain’t gonna get those packages ‘til some long period of time!”
Boothill’s interest peaks as you begin to snap, “Did ya not hear me? I said, ‘Ion care how ya get them!’ Find a way! Talk to that Trailblazer everyone’s been praisin’ about or somethin’! Jus’ get me my stuff before ‘m gonna start blowin’ some brains out-”
A rustle causes you to pause your sentence as you draw your weapon immediately, the barrel facing his direction and bullets fly. Boothill’s horse had begun to munch on the bush, which gave away his position, but thankfully he moved quick enough to get out of the way.
You decided to book it when you caught sight of the familiar white and black hair, spurs hitting the sides of your horse as you begin to get out of the area to leave nothing but a trail of dust. Boothill doesn’t hesitate to race after you, whipping the reins of his horse to get her going.
Branches and twigs tug at Boothill’s hair as he chases you through the forest, lowering his torso so that he could lessen the wind resistance as his horse’s hooves slam against the ground. You’re quite the distance away, mostly because your horse is pretty speedy. It’s how you get away from crime scenes so fast. However, Nellie, the horse Boothill is riding currently, is also quite fast.
Although, not fast enough because in the end, he still loses you.
The curses he spits all get censored immediately as he slows into a stop, head turning in every direction to see if you left any trail behind. Only to see none. Didn’t expect as much from a skilled criminal.
The second time he spots you is in the tavern, playing a game of poker with people that had their pockets stuffed full of cash. ‘Rich folk,’ Boothill grimaces as he could see them tilt their chin up like the world owes them something. If you rob them, he won’t feel even a sliver of remorse.
He knows that you can see him as he leans against the wall to watch the match, some of the rich getting intensively frustrated as they begin to fold after betting so high. Judging by the scheming smile on your face, he could tell you have a winning hand. Then again, when are you never smiling like you have something up your sleeve?
Finally, in the showdown, you and the person you’re going up against reveal your cards and you win with a four of a kind. Lucky.
The people at the table groan and push their chips in your direction, getting up to leave as their attitudes have just been soured over that singular match. Boothill takes the opportunity to walk over to you and remove the gun from his holster and press it right up against your lower back, hand coming up to snatch his hat that rests atop your head.
“I wouldn’t do that if I were you.”
A window shatters behind him and he could hear flames begin to roar but he doesn’t dare tear his eyes away from you. Only when he feels cold metal press against the nape of his neck does his actions falter and his eyes turn to face whoever decided to draw their weapon.
He blinks in shock to see a figure completely made of water, his gaze returning to you and seeing you sitting on the edge of the table with your gun pressed against his forehead. Shit. He’s lost again.
The tavern completely surrenders to the flames as people scream at the sight of fire, swallowing up the alcohol and wood. Boothill can hear his fans whirring to prevent himself from overheating but the attempt is futile as the room begins to get unbearably hot. He’s not sure if it’s just the fire that’s causing him to overheat or it’s because you look insanely good with all this red and orange light.
...
What is he even thinking right now?
“Y’know, it’s gettin’ real fun toyin’ with ya, cowboy.” You speak, completely unbothered by all the heat in the building. He can’t even see a single drop of sweat on your face. Even so, you continue, “But I think ya can do a little better than this.”
The ranger’s lips purse in offense, glaring at you as best as he could. The gun you had pointed lazily at his forehead falls to the floor and Boothill isn’t sure how long he can last in this heat. Before his system could finally shut down because of overheating, he could feel your lips press against the area where your gun was pressed up against. Then, he falls over as his system forcibly turns him off.
The third time Boothill sees you, he’s lying on a metal workbench with cold water floating above him and fans blowing in his direction. He’s confused, obviously, and on his toes as he realizes he’s not in an area he’s not familiar with. He attempts to sit up to find a way to escape only to realize that he can’t move his arm. Now, he’s terrified.
“Relax, cowboy.” Your voice coos from behind a computer, typing away at something as you're taking a tip from a glass. Presumably water. “I’m cooling ya off. You’re welcome... You should be able to move now.”
Boothill shoots up from his spot and rips off the cables that are attached to his left arm, head darting around to look for his gun. He hears a click and once again finds himself with a gun pressed up against his jaw.
“Lookin’ for this?”
The crosshair that replaces his once human pupils flit over to your direction, noticing that you were holding his revolver in your dominant hand. Boothill swears that you must like pointing a barrel in his direction for how many times this has been done. He also sees that you’re wearing his very cropped jacket over your usual attire. ... And you’re still wearing his hat.
“That’s mine, pretty boy.” The ranger gives you a half-assed growl as his censor kicks in once more, already getting annoyed at your sly behaviour, “Ya really got a knack for takin’ stuff that’s not yours, huh? No wonder yer a criminal.”
You giggle at his words, tossing his gun on the metal workbench, “It’s not loaded, neither is your little gun hand.” You tell him, like he was going to start unloading mags into your skin. Turning around, you walk back to your computer and open up a drawer on the desk it sits on, “Well?” You ask after a momentary silence, leaning on one of your legs as you crack open a bottle of whiskey and begin to pour it into your empty glass.
“‘Well’, what?” Boothill narrows his eyes at you, picking up his revolver and shoving it back into his thigh holster. He’ll just have to go to the nearest mechant and buy more bullets.
“Ain’t ya gonna, I don’t know, take yer hat back?” You ask him, taking a sip of the alcohol that gives a slight burn down your throat, “We’re in an enclosed space, barely any room t’move around, exit’s right behind ya ‘n all. Perfect chance t’arrest me, if I dare so say m’self.”
He blinks. There’s got to be some sort of trap if the setup is this perfect. He’s not going to make the same mistake he did before, not again. So, his sensors scan the room quickly, which leaves you unamused, and he sees that there are in fact no traps in this room. Boothill almost doesn’t want to believe it.
“Are ya playin’ some sort of game with me?” Boothill’s eyes begin to squint in suspicion, carefully trying to think of a situation you might pull that puts him on the losing end of the stick, “Yer jus’ gonna let yourself get arrested? Jus’ like that?”
“What? Ya don’t wanna do it? Too scared?” You taunt him again, causing the cowboy’s circuits to boil in animosity.
“Ya know what?” Boothill smiles a tense one, taking long, menacing steps in your direction, “I’ve ‘bout had it with your attitude, pretty boy. Seems like ya didn’t have anybody ta teach ya proper manners.” All of a sudden, you felt yourself being slammed up against the wall behind you with a grunt, Boothill’s right hand keeping your wrists together and his left hand tilting your chin up to look at him, his eyes glowing a dangerous red, “I mean, after that stunt ya pulled in yer lil’ base, it seems like ya wanna be caught by me.”
“Hah.. guilty as charged.” You laugh, attempting to keep your smooth facade up, only for it to crack once you could feel his metal knee nudge between your thighs. A whine rips through your throat as he keeps his knee still, not bothering to give you the pleasure you oh so wanted from the day you saw him.
“How ‘bout it, doll?” Boothill sneers at your pathetic expression, lips getting dangerously close to yours, “I can give ya a better punishment than jail could.”
One thing’s for sure: Boothill’s mechanical body does not have any built in... pleasure devices, he’s nearly as smooth as a doll. However, there is a slightly large bump on his pelvis in the shape of an oval that if you were to grind just right up against, you’ll-
“O-oh!”
Boothill’s lips curve up into a smirk as he sees you push down hard against his metallic form, trying to settle your trembles by wrapping your arms tightly around his neck to stabilize yourself. It’s cute, he thinks, seeing you all desperate for sexual relief. The way you hopelessly cling to him like he’s the last thing keeping you alive. He can’t believe he actually thought about putting you behind bars if getting you wrapped around his finger was this satisfying. 
“How’s it feel, pretty boy?” Boothill whispers in your ear, causing a shiver to rack your spine as his grip adjusts to settle on your lower waist, pushing you even further against him, “Feel like yer gonna explode yet?”
Whimpering in response, your shaky fingertips grip onto his shoulders as your forehead now presses against his. Soft pants fill the room and Boothill can practically see the hearts in your eyes as your hips continue to move against his. You both still have your clothes on but this all still feels so intimate, probably better than actual penetration.
The ranger’s hand reaches up to tug his hat that still rests on your head, fixing it back from its tilted state, “Ya look like ya wanna kiss, doll.” He teases, bringing your chin closer to the point where your noses brushed up against one another.
“Pl-please..” You say breathily, gently tugging at his hair.
“Attaboy.” Boothill snickers in response, “Looks like yer finally learning.” His freakishly long tongue slithers past his lips as soon as they press against yours, slipping into your mouth as saliva begins to spill down your chin. Aeons, you’re just so cute.
Soft moans are swallowed up by Boothill’s greedy mouth, his thumb coming up to pull against your bottom lip before he pulls away and the only thing that connects your mouths is the thin trail of spit. His robotic thumb pushes into your mouth, pressing against your tongue as drool continues to spill down your pretty lips. He could get used to this.
He notices how much faster your hips move, calculating that you were close as whines and whimpers flood the room. The smile on Boothill’s face only widens even further, bumping his hips up to catch you off guard. He knows he succeeds when he hears a shaky squeak come from your mouth.
“What’s wrong, pretty boy? Ya gonna bust?” The ranger sneers, the thumb in your mouth shifting so he widens your lips by pushing at the sides, “Y’know, I could easily deny ya of that relief. Ya kinda deserve it for teasin’ me this whole time.”
You shake your head violently, already too close to be pulled away now. Boothill snickers in response, “No? What makes ya think you can tell me what to do?” A pleading look flashes across your features and Boothill has half the decency to make you beg for release. He decides to have mercy on you, though, “Mmmn, I mean, I guess ya have been pretty obedient. Go on and blow yer load f’me, pretty.”
With a shudder and a slight bite on Boothill’s metal thumb, your pants get soaked in your fluids, staining the fabric. Your hips jerk a couple of times to ride out your orgasm then you started slumping onto his chest in exhaustion. Boothill’s other hand rubs at your hip to soothe you, letting you rest in place to calm the trembles that still cause your body to twitch in overstimulation.
“Good boy.” He says softly, pulling his thumb out of your mouth, watching as it dripped since it was slick with your spit. Letting you catch your breath for a moment, he waits before he decides to ask, “So, what package were ya waitin’ for?”
“Baby stuff.” You sigh, face burying into Boothill’s neck, “My sister’s expecting ‘nd her wife’s been tellin’ me to get that stuff as soon as possible. The Luofu has been delaying their packages for a bit, somethin’ about shippin’ difficulties. Can’t believe ya’d remember something like that, though.”
The cowboy huffs in response, “Bein’ a cyborg’s got some perks. The only bad part is that ion got a dick to fuck ya with. Woulda been nice to see ya unable to walk for a few days.”
You sit up and give him a weird look, hands resting on his shoulders, “Ya do know strap-ons exist, right?” The way you said that made him feel much stupider, like you were pointing out the obvious to him.
“...Oh.” Boothill’s face flushes embarrassingly hot as his fans kick in once more.
Aeons, he hated you.
876 notes · View notes
abbyromanoff · 6 months
Note
Can I request a top! Jane Banner x fem!reader, with angst,smut and fluff at the end, where, reader is a new police and Jane is her superior & she take a like in reader months later but try to hide it, making reader feel bad then you can do the rest as you want
HATE ME? OR LOVE ME?
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PAIRINGS: Jane Banner x reader
WORD COUNT: 3,220
WARNINGS: smut, love hate relationship, kinda enemies to lovers, angst, Jane hiding her feelings, cunnilingus, pet names, r getting stood up, making out, fingering, squirting, multiple orgasms, top!Jane, fluff, think that’s all :)
NO ONE IS PERMITTED TO STEAL, COPY, OR REBLOG MY WORK AS THEIR OWN!!
“That’s the problem, Y/N, you can never do anything right!” The words rang through your mind on repeat. Your superior was the one who spit them, letting her built-up anger rise to the point of overfilling, and you were the one to suffer. You knew she despised you, and if it was up to her, you wouldn’t have been hired in the first place. You didn’t mind, you were used to being disliked throughout your life and came to an acceptance of the fact. And it wasn’t because she was your boss that it affected you so much, it’s because you liked her in ways you shouldn’t like your higher supervisor.
She would watch your every move, each step haunting her mind. You expected it was so she could find an excuse to report you and see you go, but it was really because she just wanted to admire you any chance she had. You wouldn’t understand, which is why she kept quiet. It pained her to see you frown, but she couldn’t let herself get as close as she wanted to. So, instead of remaining neutral, she decided to take her frustration and fill your heart with the hurtful words she’d mutter.
People suggested you report her, but you didn’t want to. You’d rather take the glares than see her separated from you, or even worse, be forced to leave for good. You instead took to ridding yourself of the sleep you needed and thriving on the suffering you enforced, all while she painted your mind. You couldn’t even focus on the comments, only focusing on the beauty that expressed them. That’s what you hated most, that you couldn’t hate her.
“Ma’am, I’m sorry, but if your other person doesn’t arrive in the next five minutes, we’ll be forced to remove you. Unless you’d like to place your order, that is.” The waiter smiled apologetically, and you guessed he had dealt with this before, a guest being stood up and holding hopes they’d arrive. You were ready to give up and leave with a small apology for wasting their time, that was until you noticed a woman stepping forward.
“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me.” Jane looked in your direction, her eyes widening at your low-cut dress. You looked so beautiful, just like you always did.
“Y/N, nice to see you here.” You rolled your eyes with a groan, handing the menu to the waiter before standing. She furrowed her brows slightly, nodding the man off as you tried to walk past her, only for her arm to grasp your shoulder in an attempt for you to stay.
“Woah, relax now,” She started. “Where do you think you’re going?” You took a deep breath before turning, eyeing the woman with a clenched jaw.
“Home. Why, you going to follow me there too?” She chuckled, releasing her grip when she realized she didn’t have to force you to stay.
“I just might.” There was a short beat of silence before you blew a breath, getting ready to leave before she repeated her actions.
“Alright, what do you want? I’m off work hours, you can’t keep me.”
“Gosh, don’t be such a fucking bore. You got stood up, so I was trying to do the right thing and ask you if you’d like to join me instead.” You didn’t believe her, there was no chance she had good intentions when it came to you. She hated you, why would she ever want to change that?
“What, so you can make up a lie that you need to pee so I’ll end up being stuck paying the bill?” She remained relaxed, refusing to feed into your annoyance and letting you get a reaction. She got hers already, now you were just dying to get some sort of revenge.
“Look, I know we don’t get along all the time-“
“We never do. Maybe if you weren’t such a fucking dick, I’d actually be willing to strike up a conversation with you.” You stated calmly, and she tightened her grip at your interruption. No one interrupts her, especially when you’re beneath her. But, she let it go past her, maintaining a tense smile as she pointed to her seat. There were only two chairs, either she was on a date or was eating alone. And with her lack of empathy, you guessed it was the latter.
“Well, maybe this is me trying to redeem myself. C’mon, you know we both have nothing better to do. I’m waiting for my mother to arrive, and you’re going home alone.”
“How do you know I’m going home alone? Maybe I’m going home to my wife and kids, maybe I’m going home to my family, maybe I’m going home to my cat-“
“Alright, I get it. If you really have places to go then you wouldn’t have been waiting for your date to show up for half an hour. But, if you really don’t want to, then you can leave.” You debated between your options, dinner with a woman who hated you, or going home to imagine being with the same woman. She’d hold you tight on the couch, kiss your forehead while your legs laid across hers. Her soft giggles showing her whitened pearls. Then she’d kiss you goodnight as she tucked you into bed, joining you soon after and returning her arms to their righteous spot around you.
You blinked twice, trying to register that you were in fact forced to live in the present time when all you wanted was to experience the daydreams you escaped through.
“Fine, I’ll stay. But don’t think I wanted this.” She smirked, letting you sit before pushing your chair in. You saw your previous table being occupied by a happy couple and smiled sadly, wishing you were taking their current places. You didn’t care for the view the seat had, but the one they each held was better than anything.
“Can we get the Le Medoc De Cos wine for the table, please?” You failed to understand how she didn’t miss a single beat, she must be a regular.
“Of course, ma’am, is there anything else I can start the two of you with?” He turned his gaze to you respectfully, and you grinned warmly.
“Uh, I’ll just have a glass of water, please.” He nodded and returned to the back where you assumed he was preparing the carefulness of the wine.
“You don’t order water at a restaurant like this, dumbass.” She scowled while her eyes remained on the menu, occasionally letting her eyebrows lift in a small excitement as she read the ingredients.
“Well, I think we both know I don’t have the funds for the wine you got.” It was true, you were only just starting a few months ago and were still considered young by most, it was nearly impossible for you to make the same as her.
“You’re not paying the bill, don’t worry about prices.” Your eyes widened as you looked at her dumbfounded. She lowered the paper and returned your gaze, making you evert your own slightly.
“We’re cutting this in half, I’m not letting you pay the bill and then use it against me for the rest of my life.”
“Oh my fucking God, will you relax with the assumptions? I’m not that big of a bitch, no matter how much you think I am.”
“I would calm yourself on the language, young lady.” Jane turned to see where the voice came from, only to sigh as her Mother came into view. She gave a tight-lipped smile and stood, giving the older woman a small hug and resting her hands on her arms.
“It’s great to see you, Mom.” She brushed her off, pulling out her chair as your boss was left stranded. She gulped, glancing towards you as you gave a small greeting to the guest. She took your hand with a small shake, something Jane rarely saw.
“Sorry for the intrusion, I’m your daughter's coworker and we happened to be dining in at the same place tonight.” She looked to her child for more description, and you feared you spoke wrong.
“Y/N here got stood up tonight and I thought I’d do the right thing and invite her to eat with us, I hope you don’t mind.” The reminder brought a roll to your eyes before you disguised it with a clearing of your throat, catching the attention of both.
“Oh, not at all! It’s lovely to meet you, dear.” The entire dinner went on with minimal chatting, you started to assume you were intruding on their special night. You grabbed your phone, excusing yourself to the bathroom with shaky hands. You refused to lift your gaze for the entire walk until you reached the door. When inside, you placed your hands on the marble countertop and sighed, letting the tension from the week release. Suddenly, you heard the door open with a small squeak and turned, only to see Jane looking back at you.
“Please don’t leave.” Confusion wrote itself across your face before you chuckled softly, shaking your head in disbelief.
“And why is that?” She licked her lips and bit them softly, knotting her arms together as they laid across her chest.
“I can’t stand that woman and I definitely don’t want to deal with her alone.” She admitted, but you didn’t understand her hatred for her mother. You picked up on the small comments throughout the dinner, but you guessed it was playful nature when she’d give a small laugh in response, only now did you realize they were most likely fake.
“And…I guess I enjoy having you there to, you know, ease the awkwardness.” You were planning on cutting the meal short for yourself, but you understood her request. Even if she was technically using you, you didn’t want her to suffer through something like this, you still cared for her.
“Fine, I’ll stay.” She seemed relieved by your response and rushed forward to greet you in a grateful hug, only to come to her senses moments later.
“Oh, right, uhm- sorry.” She gave you one last smile of appreciation before exiting, returning to her awaiting mother.
“Is everything alright?”
“Yeah, I was just checking in on them.” She took a bite of the food, instantly regretting the action as the heat filled her senses.
“You know, you two make a really cute couple.” Not only was it hot, but now Jane was nearly choking on the steak. She pressed her fist against her chest a few times before clearing her throat.
“Uh, we’re- we’re not dating, Mom.”
“Look, I know you don’t believe in love, and trust me, after your father, I thought I never would either. But, love comes random, you can’t choose who you fall for. Besides, I may be old but that doesn’t mean I can’t spot the sexual tension between you two.” The sudden outburst sent heat waves to your boss's cheeks.
“Mom! There is no sexual tension between us! They hate me, if anything, I’m a complete dickbag to them.”
“Because you don’t want to accept that your dream of being alone forever is fading into something new. So, please, do me a favor and stop being a baby.” She saw you stalking back out of the corner of her eye and grinned as she stood. Jane was still stuck in thought, her forehead creased together as she, once again, started to bite her lip.
“Well, I believe I should be leaving now. It was so lovely to meet you, dear, I know me and my daughter loved your company.”
“Awh, you’re leaving already?” You brought her in for a short hug while she nodded, turning to her daughter to say a short goodbye. You wondered why she didn’t do the same with her as she did with you, but you brushed it off.
“Alright, I’ll ask the waiter for a box, are you saving your food?” Her Mother was now out of the building and you could get rid of your facade. She shook her head as she came back to her senses, your voice filling her ears as they dinged in excitement.
“Why not get a dessert? I mean, we’re already here, no point in leaving yet.” You eyed her with suspicion and she only pestered on.
“Seriously, what the fuck is up with you? Why are you being nice all of a sudden?” Her mother's words rang in her head once again as she got a true, genuine look at you. She always thought you were a heaven-sent piece of artwork, but now you looked ever more angelic. She didn’t know how you did, but you did.
“I just want to get dessert, is that so bad?” You huffed out a breath and examined the menu, your mouth watering at the descriptions. When the waiter came over, he kindly took your requests along with the papers. There was a silence that roamed over the both of you, Jane found it comforting. She knew you probably didn’t feel the same, but being able to have a moment with her thoughts that filled of you was always her peace.
“Dove chocolate cheesecake for you, ma’am,” She smiled in appreciation and took the dish before he turned to you. “And the chef’s special Tiramisu for you, Miss.” You repeated Jane’s movements, leading him to stand over the table with his hands together in front of him.
“Would you or your wife like anything else before I hand over the bill?” You blanked for a moment, chuckling awkwardly to yourself as you glanced up at him.
“Oh, we’re not-”
“Yes, actually. Would we be able to have a refill of their water, please?” You turned to look at her now, tilting your head to the side as she acted oblivious. He nodded and returned shortly with your new glass and the bill. You examined the total with widened eyes.
“The lady with you paid for half already.” He stated before leaving the two of you.
“Why didn’t you correct him?”
“For what?”
“Don’t play dumb, for saying you’re my wife.” She shrugged with a mouthful of her food, leading you to eventually give up and bask in the flavors the dish greeted you with.
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The two of you were walking out of the restaurant, Jane holding the door open for you and leading you to your car. She hoped you parked as far as possible, just so she could get an extra few minutes with you. Her hand longed to interlace with yours, but she held back in fear.
“I hope you enjoyed tonight.” She spoke when you stopped in front of the vehicle she recognized as yours. You nodded with a thin line on your mouth before she said her goodbyes. She turned around with a sigh before stopping herself when she heard your voice.
“Yeah?” She saw you stalking forward, your head down until your body was mere inches from hers.
“I actually did enjoy tonight, thank you for inviting me.” She smiled gently when you lifted your head to glance at her, her impulses failing her as she placed her hands on your hips and drew you in. Her lips touched yours in a soft, searing manner as you sunk into it.
“W-what?” She gulped fearfully, pulling away as your hooded eyes searched hers.
“Fuck, I’m sorry, I-I didn’t mean to-” Her words were cut short as you pulled her back in, groaning as her body molded against yours. She placed her hands on your bottom, smiling gracefully as her tongue was granted entrance. She pushed you against the hood of the car, feeling your arms wrap around her neck while your thighs parted enough for her to place her knee between them. You instinctively grinded against the soft skin that greeted you, resulting in a muffled moan to escape.
“Wait-” She furrowed her eyebrows as she rested her forehead against yours, instantly following your request.
“I don’t want to do this here. Will you come home with me?”
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Her slender fingers drew in and out of you in a hurry, her hot breath fanning across your face as you mumbled out pleas. She found her gaze falling to the connection between you two, shuddering as your tight hole accepted a third digit. Your legs wrapped around her form, your chest heaving with every inhale. Your nipples hardened from the gush of wind before a gasp left you, Jane’s wet mouth finding it as her free hand led yours to the neglected breast. You toyed with the hard bud, fluttering your eyes shut as you bit your lip.
“No, let me hear you, baby.” She dreamed of hearing everything you released, she wasn’t going to let that be stripped away from her.
“Jane-” Her name wasn’t her favorite word, but hearing your soft whine made it a blessing to her eardrums. Her clit throbbed in delight, begging to meet yours.
“Yeah?” Her jaw was now resting on your shoulder, her lips right next to your ear as she left pecks down your neck. She hoped they’d leave a mark, just so everyone would know you belonged to her now. But, in reality, you always have.
“Need to cum- fuck! I need it so bad.” Your fingertips came to scratch at her scalp softly, your legs starting to shake the closer you got. Your coil tightened the more you held back, yet it begged to let go.
“I need you, Jane.” The stumbled sentence brought a stall to her movements. She only continued her thrusts when a whine bounced off the walls, the creator being the person beneath her.
“I know, I need you just as bad, darlin’.” She felt liquid spray against her crotch as you cried out, clawing at any part of skin you could grapple onto.
“Oh, God, ‘feels ‘o good!” Your babbles brought a dark chuckle to the woman. She thrived on the fact that she was the reason you were like this. You were no longer crying from her harsh words, you were crying from how good she made you feel.
“No, no, we’re not done just yet,” She informed when noticing you tried squeezing your legs shut.
“Don’t be embarrassed, love, I find it so fucking hot that you squirted for me, makes me so, so wet.” Your cheeks reddened, your eyes unable to meet hers when her finger came in contact with your chin. You hadn’t noticed her pulling out of you, the bliss of the moment being too heavy for your mind to keep track of your surroundings.
“Don’t you taste fucking heavenly?” She forced you to suck the sweet nectar coating her digits, chuckling as you gagged when they hit the back of your throat. You moaned around them, suckling every last drop.
“Spread ‘em, angel,” You whimpered, shaking your head in disagreement. “I said, spread ‘em, you can take another, you will.” You obeyed slowly, feeling her fingers instantly spreading your folds as her tongue came in contact with your sensitive bud.
“More, baby, I want you to struggle.” Her lips instantly wrapped around your clit, the sounds of your juices being evident as she sucked harshly.
“Fuck, I don’t think I’ll be able to stop.”
900 notes · View notes
sapphosclosefriend · 8 months
Text
- I need you by my side -
Pairing: Royal! Natasha Romanoff x Princess! Fem! Reader
Genre: fluff, smut, tiny tiny bit of angst
Summary: you have known Natasha pretty much your whole life and you never thought you'd end up marrying her. On your first night officially together you learn to appreciate each other in more than one way (Medieval AU)
Word count: 7.5k
Warnings: top! Natasha, bottom! R, Nat has a penis, virgin! R, arranged marriage, very brief drinking, kissing, size difference, SMUT, oral (Nat receiving), balls sucking, cum eating, nipple stimulation (R receiving), fingering (R receiving), squirting, vaginal penetration, rough sex, cumming inside, a whole lot of fluff
A/N: this story contains smut so anyone who isn’t 18+ DNI. Both sets of parents are shitty tbh, but I guess it's accurate to the time period? The aesthetic in my head was very much game of thrones for this one. This is so much longer than I intended!! As usual likes, reblogs and comments are very appreciated! Enjoy ♡
Masterlist
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It has been a long long day of making merry, a joyful celebration of honour and union for everybody, but also a dreadfully awaited day full of anger and resentment from your new spouse. You could feel it radiating off of her throughout the whole day, and the weeks prior for that matter, and the tiredness only makes her more frustrated as she walks next to you towards your now shared chambers. Her long legs and anger driven fast pace almost make it hard for you to keep up with her and for a moment the thought of telling her off crosses your mind, immediately followed by your father’s reprimanding voice, forcing you to calm down immediately. The moment the large wooden doors close behind you, the sight of the bed adorned with rich fabrics and clearly made to harbour two newly wed people makes you freeze as you can only move your eyes from to bed, to the other girl’s back on the balcony and back towards the bed. You both know what you’re expected to do and unfortunately sleeping the exhaustion away is not yet included.
In the meantime, Natasha’s blood boils even more now that all the tension she’s been holding back in favour of decency is coming back in the confinements of her, no, your private room. The thought of what she’s been forced to do only makes her feel that all too familiar anger that’s been eating her up for months now: she’s always known that she was eventually going to have to marry someone of a certain status and that the range of possible candidates was quite small, but she thought that the last word would be hers, it was promised to her! But the moment you became of age it was all clear, it was going to be you, it was always going to be you, there was never anybody else for her parents. All those times where they visited your family because of what they would say was a special friendship between them and your own parents, where she was always made to play with you, to sit next to you, to take you on walks, to talk to you, get to know you, it was all a lifelong plan to get to this very specific moment, you and her married. The fresh night air helps cool her temper as she turns around to lean against the cold stone of the balcony railing and looks at you, nervously pouring yourself a cup of deep red wine, only tasting a sip of it before repeatedly tapping the metal cup, lost in thought. She feels a lot of guilt whenever she thinks about you because, although she’s never been outwardly rude to you, it’s clear that you feel as part of her problem and that her reassurances don’t help ease your mind at all. The only people she’s deeply angry with are her parents, but seeing your sweet eyes, knowing how hopeful you’ve always been of finding a person to love for the rest of your life and that person forcibly being her, reminds her of how your lives have never truly been yours and how naive you’ve been for thinking otherwise at the empty words of reassurance coming from your parents. She knows she has to try at least, if not for her family, for you, for the respect she has for you, so she takes one last breath of fresh air to ease her nerves and walks back inside.
The smell of her favourite incense and the dim lights coming from all the candles give her a small sense of comfort as she slowly walks towards you, standing next to the table still with your wine in your hand, and pours herself her own cup, which she downs in one go.
“I was very happy to be able to catch up with Yelena, it had been a long time since I had last seen her”
At your words she looks down at you and can’t help but give you a little smile at your attempt at breaking the ice, knowing you’re not the most outgoing person
“She was very happy too, she couldn’t wait to see you”
She goes to sit on the bed as she talks, making your mind go back to that imminent moment. Seeing you nervously swallow the lump in your throat, she pats the spot next to her and intently looks at you as you set down your cup and walk towards her, taking a seat on the soft mattress: you can clearly feel the heat of her body with how close you are and secretly savour it as you both keep looking in front of you to avoid meeting your gazes. There’s a long pause where only your slightly shaky breathing and the distant sound of the celebration going on without you two can be heard, before her voice, strangely uncertain and almost a whisper, breaks the silence
“Have you ever done this before?”
You were kind of expecting it, but the question still makes your heart stop
“…kind of”
At your small voice she turns to look at you, confused by your answer
“What do you mean “kind of”?”
“I’ve done something, but not…all of it”
There’s almost guilt in your words and after reluctantly looking at her and meeting her expectant gaze, you go on
“There was someone who was always very…interested in me..”
You can feel her brain working hard and the realisation getting closer and closer until
“Wait, you don’t mean…”
You can barely give her a side look, feeling regret at your own actions from the past
“What?!”
“I know, I know!”
You really can’t look at her now, knowing her opinions on that certain Someone
“Not that asshole!”
“Yes, well, of course I didn’t listen to you and…I got used like a whore. But I’ve never been touched, if that’s what you wanted to know.”
She watches you looking down at your own fiddling hands with sympathy and sadness, knowing how genuine and even naive you can be with your selfless trust in people. Her hand on yours almost startles you and gives her the chance of taking your own in hers: you can see a small, healing cut on her knuckle and her rough palm, testimony of her constant sword training, is warm against yours, except for the two small, golden rings, which feel like ice against your own skin. The moment you take your eyes off your joined hands to look at her you find her eyes already on your face, making you look back down
“You have, right?”
“Yes, how do you know?”
You let out a small chuckle and start playing with one of her rings without even noticing, catching Natasha’s attention to the action
“You and that girl, it was quite clear, you know?”
Of course you noticed, you always did, you were almost too good at reading her considering that you didn’t see each other that often. That time, during one of her family’s visits, a girl with beautiful red hair was with her when she arrived and, although she was introduced to everybody as a normal lady in waiting, you immediately caught the glances and small touches between the two. Another moment of silence engulfs you two and you can’t keep your mind from spiraling at what’s going to happen soon. Not even Natasha’s ring is enough to keep you calm anymore, so you just let go of her hand and finally tell her what you’ve been wanting to say since you got alone. She’s still thinking about how much she surprisingly misses your hand in hers when your words startle her
“You don’t have to do anything you don’t want, I know you’ve never wanted any of this and I’m sorry that you were forced into it…I know that we have to do this, but you shouldn’t if you don’t want to”
Your words make her heart swell at how thoughtful you are to her, unlike her own family, before guilt takes over her once again
“I want to do this…with you. To be honest I’m happy that you’re the one I’m stuck with”
Her playful tone makes you giggle and look at her, getting caught off guard at the small traces of happiness on her face, finally getting free of that constant frown that you’ve consistently seen on her as of late. She finally looks back at you and once your eyes meet it seems like you’re really looking at each other for the first time in a while. She’s always been known to be one of the most beautiful people of the realm, so it was never that big of a shock to look in the eyes of what could easily be a goddess amongst mortals and be taken back by all that beauty and all the small details that make her so unique with nothing but adulation. You’ve never been scared of displaying your appreciation for anyone, so seeing your look of fondness towards her doesn’t surprise her at all.
On the other hand, Natasha finds herself truly entranced by you for the first time since you’ve known each other: she’s almost surprised to notice just how beautiful you are and how all those comments made by her friend, even if quite crude most of the time, were not the nonsense she made them to be.
“You do realise that anyone would pay to be in your place, right? You whine like a baby because you have to chat with her or something, it’s not like you have to marry her. And even if you did you’d get to have a go at it with her every night”
The familiar words make her grimace at the thought of such comments being made behind your back but the faint feeling of jealousy deep in her is enough to bring her mind back to you, sitting so close to her and looking up at her with such timid adoration that in that moment she can’t keep her eyes from finally moving down on their own towards your lips, looking so inviting she doesn’t even realise she’s slowly moving closer to you until the air you exhale melts together and your lips touch each other every time you breathe
“Natasha”
Your whisper ignites something inside of her and what could be considered almost curiosity makes her move just enough so that your lips are finally fully on hers in a small kiss that makes your heart beat so fast it feels like it’s trying to escape from your chest to get to Natasha. Oh Natasha, she’s the only thing that exists in that moment, just Natasha, nothing else. As soon as you part you barely have time to look into each other’s eyes and for her to admire your panting state before she’s cupping your face and leaning in once again, making you melt into the kiss while you try to turn your body towards her. You are thankful that you’re sitting on the bed, otherwise you’re sure your knees wouldn’t have been able to keep you upright. You still reach for her shoulder for support as your lips move against each other slowly, deepening the kiss more and more until you can feel her tongue on your lower lip, asking for permission and being granted it when you lightly suck it, making her moan lowly and break the kiss to catch her breath. You can’t help but admire her and reach for her hand, still under your jaw, to hold it in your own, making her open her eyes at the gentle action. In that moment, sitting on the edge of her bed so close to each other you’re almost in her lap, breathing hard from all the nervousness finally wearing off thanks to the act of newly found intimacy between you two, you truly feel the need for each other, not something necessarily carnal, but a deep need to have the only person who could really understand what you’re going through and who could support you through all of it by your side. You don’t know how much time you spend kissing, you just know that you can feel yourself grow more and more restless at her wandering hands caressing your arms with a touch so light goosebumps grow under her fingertips.
You have no idea of what has gotten into you, maybe it’s her intoxicating smell, or the way she’s now firmly holding your waist with one hand, or her frustrated sighing every time she catches her other hand searching through the seemingly never ending fabrics of your gown for a snippet of skin, or maybe it’s just all the stress you’ve been subjected to lately, but you are sure of one thing, you need to feel her, as much of her as possible.
In a spur of bravery you get on your knees on the mattress and do your best to straddle her lap without tripping over the layers of your dress, finally succeeding and finally being able to feel more of the heat coming off of her that you've been enjoying since you've sat next to one another ot the bed. Your faces are finally at the same height and for the first time you can see her enchanting emerald eyes even better. You move some small strands of hair that have fallen on her face to briefly take a better look at her, before your lips are connected once again and your hands are tangled in her hair. You can clearly feel Natasha's hands move over your back, repeatedly shifting down to the small of your back and stopping herself from going lower, making you whine as you take her hands and move them to your ass, getting a small groan out of her at your sudden boldness. She's finally able to reach your skin, after not so little effort of going through the fabrics of your skirt, when your lips leave hers to move down to her jaw and neck, leaving shy pecks hiding the deep hunger you suddenly feel for her. The gentle touch of your mouth on the sensitive skin of her neck and your small unconscious movements over her crotch start making it hard for her to hold back to let you go at your own pace. She loses control just for a second once you feel something poking your center and ground your hips over it with a little bit more will with a small muffled moan, and she moves her hands towards your front to try to reach for your breasts but fails to do so
"Damn dress"
The frustration of once again not being able to get to your skin almost makes her growl the words, getting your attention and making you stop yourself to look at her expectantly
"Sorry, it's just always in the way"
"Well…would you help me get out if it then?"
The clear contrast from your previous slightly daring demeanour and now your usual shy tone interests her and after a nod from her you get up from her lap and stand in front of her, still sitting on the edge of the bed, looking at you turning around and asking her to loosen up the laces of your fitting dress. The pads of her fingers briefly go over the skin of your back where the fabric ends as she reaches for it, making you not so subtly shiver at the anticipation you now feel, in clear contrast with the almost fearful nervousness that dominated you once you first got alone with her. Once she's done with her task you slide your arms out of the sleeves and are finally able to feel the fabric slide down your body and stop at your hips, catching some resistance at the tight fitting and exposing your torso to the cool night air coming from the balcony. Your hair put in an intricate updo gives her a clear view of the creamy skin of your back and makes Natasha feel even more anticipation once your hands move to your hips to push the dress past them to let it slide down your body, leaving it a heap of embroided fabric on the ground. You once again feel your heart beating out of your chest at your now fully naked body exposed to Natasha and you suddenly seem to be frozen in place, not able to turn around and fully face her. Her warm hand gently touching yours startles you but the following sound of her voice immediately puts you at ease a little
"Wait, let me do something"
You immediately miss her hand once it leaves yours and soon after you hear her getting up from the bed and moving a little to do something. After a little bit she gently puts her hand on your shoulder and rubs her thumb over your skin to hopefully help soothe your nerves before speaking in the most gentle tone you've ever heard from her
"Remember that you don't have to"
She's the first person to tell you that. Since your birthday all your life has been revolving around this marriage, everything you've been made to do has been in favour of this event, most of the things your parents have said to you lately were commands on what you needed to do in order to be a good and honouring daughter. She's the first one to tell you such a thing, she's the first one to give you a choice in a situation where you've never had one, she's the first one to see you as a person in this circumstance and not as trade goods. She understands you and she understands the way you feel because she's gone through the same. You're on the same level. You suddenly turn around to look at her and for a second you almost miss the way she's completely naked too, taking you by surprise at her bare body
"This way we can both see each other"
She once again talks with that gentle and caring tone that this time makes your heart swell a little just for her. Your loving gaze is lost in her entrancing eyes when her hand slowly takes yours and moves it higher and higher, leaving it on her chest and making you feel the faint beating of her heart, soothing you for a moment, also thanks to the tiny reassuring smile she gives you. You do the same to show her your willingness to put all of yourself in this with her and take her hand and put it on your own chest. You don't say a word but you understand each other surprisingly well, making you both for once relieved of such a marriage and the chance of being one another's companion instead of some stranger. It's true, in all the years of knowing each other you've never been extremely close but you've certainly never hated one other. Sure, sometimes Natasha may have been annoyed at having to spend time with you but it was mainly because she was once again forced to do something by her parents. In all honesty, being with you always ended up helping her get over her irritation. You once again catch yourself getting lost in thought while fidgeting with her golden necklace with her family's sigil on it, but clearly catch the warmth of her hand leaving your chest to lightly caress your cheek before gently pushing under your chin to lift your gaze to her
"I need you by my side"
Her whispered words are barely audible but sound crystal clear to you
"Always"
You know that, from now on, you're the only two people who can help the other, you need to be strong for each other.
Before you know it her hands hold you on each side of your face to kiss you once again, taking your breath away at the need you both feel for the other. Her hands soon move down to your back to pull you flush against her front, getting you the closest you've ever been and making you reach for her shoulders to hold onto. The feeling of her soft skin against yours seems to never be enough and you realize you're pushing her to get impossibly closer too late, only when her back hits the mattress and you almost land on top of her
"Sorry-"
She doesn't let you finish before she's pulling you in again to keep your mouth on hers and she's grabbing your ass for the first time once you fully straddle her hips, making you whimper at the intimate act. You're both breathless, you know it, and the last thing you want is to stop kissing, but you need to take a small break and, once you part, you take the chance to sit up and unmake your updo, letting your hair fall down your back, taking out as many of the golden pieces of jewellery in it as you can and letting the smaller braids here and there done not to waste any more time. You're aware of your position and you secretly savour the way Natasha grips your thighs at the feeling of your bare center on hers. Feeling slightly confident you lean down to give her one last kiss on the lips before moving downwards, leaving small pecks on her neck, collarbone and chest, and then leaving her lap to get to her abs and lower abdomen, looking up at her after noticing her breathing quickening a little bit and catching her slightly clouded eyes looking back you. Right before being able to kneel down she offers you one of the many pillows from the bed, preventing you from being in pain from kneeling on the hard stone floor and puts another one under her head to get a better view of you between her legs.
The anticipation takes over the nervousness you feel at the sight of her semi hard cock in front of you and before you can get too anxious you reach with your hand to wrap around it, slowly pumping it a couple times and immediately getting a small, low moan from Natasha. You're not sure you've ever heard anything hotter than that and the excitement from making her feel good makes you more and more eager to please her as best as you can, so you keep moving your hand up and down until she's fully hard and a small bead of precum has formed, looking too tempting not to taste and making you reach over to give a small lick to her tip. You moan from finally being able to taste at least a little bit of her and at the same time Natasha hisses at the feeling of your tongue on her making her twitch.
You don't think you can wait anymore after getting a glimpse of her, so you get comfortable and finally fully wrap your lips around her tip, gently sucking it for a bit, if not to get yourself used to it, then to hear her groans again and again. Her hand moving towards your head excites you more than you'd like to admit and you'd lie if you denied the small disappointment you feel when it gets to your hair just to keep it out of the way with a makeshift ponytail. You realize it, you want her, all of her and she needs to know, so to try and make her understand it, feeling too embarrassed to say it to her face, you take more and more of her, doing your best to relax your throat and not gag too much around her surprisingly girthy cock. Her pants turn into loud groans once you do your best to look up at her as you slowly take all of her down your throat in one go, stopping only when your nose hits her crotch and staying like that for a couple seconds before lifting yourself off of it and sucking a deep breath while a string of spit still connects your mouth to her tip. To give your throat a small break you keep pumping her with your hand while you move downwards to lick her balls a couple times before taking one at a time in your mouth and very gently sucking them, making her curse out loud and sending a shiver through your whole body at the sound.
After a little bit you go back to her cock to take it back in your mouth, moaning at her taste and making her grip your hair tighter at the vibrations of your voice on her. You know she's close and you know you want her to take her orgasm from you herself, so you reach for her hand and make it lay flat on top of your head, before giving it a small push, hopefully making her understand what you want. She does, oh she does. After letting out a breathy chuckle at your eagerness she looks at you go back to your ministrations and guides you through it, making you take more and more of her until she's pushing you all the way down her cock and your gagging and her groans are all that can be heard in the room. She's close, so close and you know it, so you open your eyes to look back at her and meet her gaze already on you, before you reach for her balls to lightly fondle them, making her reach her orgasm in a couple more thrusts and finally feeling her cum in your mouth. You gently keep sucking her tip through her high until she's fully done and takes her cock out of your mouth
"Show me"
You don't expect her words but feel excitement when you open your mouth to show her all her cum on your tongue, and she bites her lip at the view
"Good, go on"
Her voice, still panting, and her taste as you swallow all of her cum makes your center ache like never before, even more so when you open your now empty mouth to show her that you've done it and she smirks
"Very good, you've done so well for me"
Her praise makes you smile at her and you can't keep yourself from climbing on the bed to kiss her briefly before she moves to make you lie down with your head resting comfortably on the fluffy pillows while she positions herself between your legs. Your new position gives you the perfect opportunity to fully explore her body, feeling her defined muscles under her velvety skin with every brush of your hands over her shoulders, her arms, her abs, her back, her ass, her thighs. She looks even more godly now, looming over you with her large, sculpted frame, looking quite bigger than you, and essentially trapping you between her and the bed. You don't feel trapped though, you feel safe and free, as you lie under her, with the knowledge that she's not here to take something from you, but to have an exchange, that she's accepting what you have to offer with a deep respect for you and your relationship.
The small traces of boldness you felt when you were pleasuring her disappear, as doubt takes over your mind: will you do a good enough job? Will she like your body? Will the fact that you're new to some things make her lose her excitement?
She immediately senses your uncertainty and can almost see your racing thoughts behind your eyes, getting her a little worried
"Are you alright?"
"I just…I don't know what to do now"
You can't even meet her gaze as you almost whisper the words, her constant and extremely casual confidence making it hard for you to admit your helplessness
"Let me do it then, hm?"
She waits for you to look at her and nod back before giving you a sweet smile and laying her palm on your cheek, savouring the way you subtly snuggle into its warmth, making her heart swell at how small you look right now. She leans down and kisses you gently over and over until she feels your tense body relaxing little at a time under hers and, once she feels you slacken, she finally lets her hands wander, gently gliding them over your body as if to not only lull you further, but also to imprint its curves and feel into her own mind. It's only once your breathing quickens and you kiss her more hungrily that she lets herself tentatively reach closer and closer to your chest, cupping your breasts once your hands tighten on her biceps to pull her closer.
The breathy whimper you let out once she lightly swaps her thumbs over your nipples, breaking your kiss, makes her even more excited and curious to find out what other sweet noises she can get out of you, so she moves her lips over your neck, leaving kisses here and there to find your sweet spot and indulging herself into leaving visible marks over your skin, getting spurred even more by your nails slightly scratching over her back and the subtle rocking of your hips. Moving lower and lower she finally comes face to face with your chest and feels pride at the sight of your already panting state, getting even more determined to make you feel as much as she can, so she finally wraps her lips around your right nipple, making you moan out loud and grip her hair harder than you intended. If she's able to make you feel so euphoric even with the simplest of touches, you can't even imagine how you're going to keep yourself grounded later on.
Your body feels like it's on fire and every single snippet of your skin that comes in contact with hers makes you long for her more and more.
She spends quite some time paying attention to your chest, sucking your nipples and the skin around, certainly getting it bruised and sending even more shivers through your body at the thought of being marked by her.
You're so lost in the moment that you don't feel one of her hands leaving its place on your breast to move lower, startling you when it makes contact with your very inner thigh, still wet from you previously rubbing it with the other while on your knees. She sucks your nipple on last time before kissing you while propping one of your legs over her hip and slowly gliding the pads of her fingers up your thigh, getting closer and closer to their destination and making your anticipation grow like never before. The moment her fingers get right below your hip bone she parts from you and looks you dead in the eye, searching for any sign for her to stop and when you give her a small nod she finally lets herself touch you, gently running her fingers up and down your surprisingly soaked slit, making you gasp at the contact and sending a wave of arousal through both of you.
Soon enough, after getting used to the feeling of someone else's hands on the most private part of your body, you can't help yourself from slightly rolling your hips in search of something, anything more, so she finally moves her ministrations directly over your clit, rubbing it slowly in circular motions and making you moan more loudly than you expected. You get even more excited at the feeling of her cock twitching on your thigh every time you moan for her, so you take one hand out of her hair and move it down to grab and pump her, making her hiss at the feeling of your hand back on her, while she keeps touching your clit and occasionally lower, closer to your entrance. You immediately miss her once her fingers leave your center as she gets them closer to your mouth
"Taste yourself"
The rasp behind her voice almost makes you miss her actual words at how hot it sounds, but you're still barely able to make out their meaning, so you grab her hand and suck on her wet fingers, moaning at the taste of your own arousal on your tongue and the feeling of her fingers in your mouth. Once you've sucked them clean and gotten them wet, she takes them out of your mouth and moves them back to your clit, rubbing it one last time before gently probing at your entrance and slowly pushing a finger inside, looking for any sign of discomfort from you before adding another one at the sight of none. You can barely whine as you bite your lip to prevent yourself from moaning too loudly, feeling embarrassed at how your cunt tries to suck her fingers in by tightening around them over and over. Once she's knuckle deep inside of you, you let out a deep breath at the faint pulsing of your clit against the palm of her hand, and look at her with watery eyes at the pleasure you feel even from her fingers staying still inside of you, giving away your extreme arousal when you tighten around her from a small kiss on your lips
"Can I move?"
She whispers her words but you can clearly understand her and quickly nod with big pleading eyes
"Please!"
She can't help but groan at your enthusiasm and barely moves her fingers in and out of you, focusing more on massaging your front wall little by little, getting you used to the sensation and making herself even more frustrated each time she feels your walls spasm around her fingers instead of her cock. She's been extremely patient since you've first gotten on your knees for her and the need to take you and feel you has been eating her up more and more, but the last thing she wants is to make you feel pressured by her, the last person you should feel unsafe with, so she does her best to keep herself grounded and fully focuses on you.
She gradually keeps increasing the pressure of the pad of her fingers on the spongy spot inside of you she easily found, making you embarrassed by the lewd, wet noises that come from your center with each stroke of her fingers and only getting you out of your own head with a particularly hard thrust that gets you freely moaning and tightly gripping the sheets under you. The muscles of her arm get even more defined from the task at hand and her breathing starts shaking from your wet walls engulfing her digits so tightly and the look of ecstasy on your features as she essentially takes your breath away. You're so close, so close to finally cumming undone for her for the first time, so close to the sweetest release
"Natasha! I'm-"
You can barely call her name before your orgasm crushes over you like a tidal wave at full force and runs through your whole body. She can't keep herself from basically growling at just how tight your walls regularly spasm around her fingers and the sight of small droplets of clear liquid coming out of you with every thrust, wetting her wrist and creating a small patch on the sheets under you. It takes you a bit to get down from your orgasm and once it stops, you can't help but sob from how intense it was, slightly shaking from time to time from the aftershocks
"Are you alright? Was it too much?"
There's genuine worry in her voice and eyes and you feel the need to kiss her, hopefully freeing her of her concerns as well
"It was perfect, Natasha"
You barely get to mumble the words against her lips before you need to kiss her again and again until your heart doesn't feel like it's beating out of your chest anymore. She uses your moment of blissed distraction to take her fingers out of you, trying not to cause too much discomfort and breaks the kiss to suck her fingers clean, lowly moaning at your taste on her tongue for the first time.
The sight makes the desire you've been feeling, that's never truly left you yet, come back at full force, startling you at how easily she's able to cause such waves of arousal to run through you.
You can't wait anymore, you need to feel more of her inside of you so bad you might just cry if you can't have her immediately and, based on her hungry eyes and fully erect cock, she might be feeling just the same
"I need you inside of me Natasha"
If your mind wasn't clouded by such want you'd feel embarrassed by your own words and the extreme neediness in your voice, but you simply can't bring yourself to care about it right now and whine at the loss of her body's warmth once she leans back on her knees. You're at a loss for words once you give yourselves time to truly look at each other's naked bodies for the first time and not even the way she grabs your waist to gently slide you down the bed a little bit before putting a pillow under your ass is enough to get you distracted from the perfect sight in front of you. You're finally pulled out of your trance once she makes your thighs rest on top of hers and gets you to automatically wrap your legs behind her back, giving her easy access to your center. Her cock sitting heavy on top of your mound makes you just a little anxious at how big it looks near you, but, sensing your doubt, she immediately takes one of your hands and kisses its back as to hopefully soothe you
"We're going at your pace"
Her words do help you a little but you still feel incredibly nervous, so much so that it seems like you suddenly get aware of every single thing near or on you, the cold golden earrings near your jaw, the soft fabric against your back, the slightest breeze of cooler air over your arm-
"You don't have to…not tonight if you don't want"
Her words, accompanied with a soft rub over your knee finally get your mind back to the moment and remind you, once again, that you can trust her and she won't judge you for anything
"I want it! I want it…"
You reach for her thigh to lightly squeeze it as to further reassure her and, once she gives you a brief nod, you smile at her and very slightly move your hips back and forth to feel her cock slide over your clit, signaling to her that you're more than ready. Natasha feels anticipation like never before once she grabs her own cock and moves her hips back a little to line it up with your entrance, making you tighten around nothing at the lewd sight of her spitting on it to get it all wet before grabbing your hips and slowly pushing in the head.
Your mouth opens in shock at the surprisingly not painful yet still almost extreme stretch and your eyes are pulled away from the sight of your centers getting closer to each other the more she pushes inside, at the sound of her voice as she curses under her breath. Your walls feel even tighter than they did around her fingers and it's really hard for her to keep herself from taking you immediately, but of course your comfort is her first priority at the moment, so, once she's fully inside of you, she stops for a bit, waiting for you to feel comfortable enough for her to move. On the other hand, the pleasure she makes you feel already starts clouding your mind and at the feeling of her staying still, completely inside of you, you can't help but let your head fall back on the mattress and let out a loud whine before looking up at her with pleading eyes
"Please Natasha! I'm ready, I promise! Please!"
That's it, there's no going back now.
She squeezes your hips quite hard as she slowly pulls out to the tip, pushing back inside a bit more quickly and going like this over and over, making you moan a bit more each time, until she sets a steady pace, getting lost in the feeling of your walls wrapped around her. You barely realize it when you're suddenly moving one of your legs to prop it on her shoulder, making her reach different spots than before, sending shock waves through your body and making you squeeze her tighter. Intent on making you feel even better, she almost immediately takes your other leg from her hip and puts it over her other shoulder, ripping a loud moan out of you from the feeling of her cock now reaching your sweet spot more easily with each thrust. The sight of your hands going from gripping the bed sheets to playing with your own nipples makes her throb inside of you and, needing to go even deeper into you, even if impossible, she lets go of your hips and puts her hands on each side of your head, getting as much leverage as she can, while still keeping your legs against her shoulders, to set a new pace, slower but with much harder thrusts, essentially knocking your breath away at the force with which her hips meet yours
"You're so beautiful"
Unfortunately you can barely register her words and find it impossible to form a single word, but try to find her wrist next to your face to give it a squeeze and hopefully make her understand if not that you think the same, at least that you appreciate her telling you that.
You know that in a short time it'll be almost impossible for you to keep yourself from tumbling into another breathtaking orgasm and you try your best to tell her, even though you know she's probably already aware of it by the way your cunt keeps squeezing her more and more
"I'm! I'm going to-"
She was waiting for you to say it yourself and hearing your straining voice trying to get the words out gets her close as well and, before she knows it, she's leaning down on her forearms, basically trapping you under her and reaching impossibly deeper inside of you
"Fuck Natasha!"
You didn't think her thrusts could get any harder, but you were wrong, her rough movements and panting groans right next to your ear are too much for you and get you to an orgasm even harder than the one before in only a couple of seconds. She tries her best to keep herself from cumming to keep thrusting into you and help you through your high, but your desperate moans, your nails raking over her back and your cunt squeezing her impossibly tight make it impossible for her to keep her orgasm from crushing over her. Her clear groans, the feeling of her cum deep inside of you and her, already balls deep, trying in vain to thrust even more into you, send an almost painful pang of arousal deep in you, pulling the last bit of energy out of you and leaving you limp under her large body.
Once her breathing has gone back to somewhat normal she finally lifts herself from her spot and comes face to face with you and only then, after you slightly hiss at her movement, she remembers that she's still inside of you
"Sorry"
There's a light sheen of sweat over her whole body, her mane of hair is tousled and her eyebrows are furrowed as she leans back to slowly pull out, trying not to make you feel too much pain also by gently running her hand up and down your side, making your heart swell at the sweetness behind her action. For a brief moment she looks slightly entranced by the sight of her cum slowly sliding out of you but soon moves away to let herself fall on her back next to you quite ungracefully, making you chuckle at her very non-regal manner. A comfortable silence falls between you two as you savour this moment of serenity and only now you notice how some of the many candles have died out, making the room feel even cozier.
Your droopy eyelids keep closing on their own accord, as exhaustion slowly starts taking over the both of you, but, right before you can drift off completely, her hand reaches over to hold yours one last time and her tired voice breaks the serene silence
"I'm very happy you're the one by my side"
.
.
.
Tags: @fxckmiup @natashasilverfox
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notjustjavierpena · 3 months
Text
Mouthful
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Series Masterpost | Main Masterpost
A/N: Made with the help from my loveliest @strang3lov3 with a talk about men conking out after cumming and how Hubby Javier still hasn’t gotten his dick sucked. So to all the girlies who want to give your fictional husband a blowjob, this one is for you.
Summary: Javier is starting to come down with the flu but he just simply won’t lie down to have some rest. You have a trick that never fails.
Pairing: Javier Peña x Reader/You (No y/n)
Tags: +18 smut, husband!javier, domestic life, sickfic, Inés is a menace, Javier is a stubborn man, ❤️ JAVIER HAS A DAD BOD!!!!!!! ❤️, blowjob, deep-throating, mouth-fucking, praise, dirty talk, cum-swallowing,
Word count: 2.8k
Link to this work on AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/52856839
Mouthful
You hear the clink of plates being lifted out of the dishwasher, the sound of Sebastian crying, stuttering sobs as he is bounced, and Inés going on about something that happened in preschool. Javier is barely listening, replying with half-sentences that seem to make his daughter more frustrated with her father not paying attention and eventually leading to her talking louder. 
The idea of what will meet you in the kitchen is enough to make you want to flee to the bedroom, enough to make you want to pretend that you haven’t heard them during an extended nap. However, you could never bring yourself to let Javier go through the hell of late afternoons with children alone.
“Look who’s up,” he says with a desperate smile as you enter the room, twisting his whole body to make his crying son spot his mother. As soon as Sebastian’s eyes gaze upon you, his wails die down and they stop completely the moment you take him from Javier’s arms. 
“Mom! Guess what happened today at school,” Inés interrupts just as you are about to say something. She speaks loudly, and you automatically reach up to cover Sebastian’s ear that isn’t pressed into your shoulder. 
“Inés, indoor voices,” Javier finally manages to say, reaching up to rub his temples, “Shhh…”
“Sorry,” she makes a face, not completely convinced. 
“What happened at school?” You ask but instead of looking at her, you find yourself staring at your husband who looks like absolute hell, glassy eyes and exhaustion radiating from him. Inés giggles as she tells a joke that isn’t really a joke, too lost in her story to notice that you aren’t really listening. 
Javier places a hand on the kitchen table, closing his eyes and pinching the bridge of his nose. His shirt is crumpled, his eyes have dark circles and you don’t actually think that he has even noticed that he is sniffling every other moment. He sighs deeply, breathing mostly through his mouth as he does it, and then goes back to emptying the dishwasher.
“Are you okay, honey?” You ask him, stopping midway to shush Inés who doesn’t look pleased, “You look under the weather. Are you feeling okay?” 
There’s an almost offended nature in Javier’s reply. He doesn’t stop what he is doing, sorting through the cutlery, “What? No, yeah. Estoy bien, mi amor (I’m fine, my love). Just need to get this done.”
“And then what?” You ask with a raised eyebrow. 
“And then I’ll get started on dinner,” he tells you with a tired smile that isn’t very convincing. 
“You look like… m i e r d a (shit), and you probably feel it too. I was sick last week,” you spell out the dirty word, using the Spanish word because the English is short enough to make Inés guess what you are saying. 
“Mom,” Inés predictably complains. 
“I’m fine. I just need 20 minutes where no one comes near me,” he says with exasperation. He finishes up the bottom drawer of the dishwasher and goes to pull out the top one. You find yourself laying a hand on top of his, stopping him in his tracks.
“Javi,” you say softly. 
“What?” He grumbles.
“I can finish up here. I’ll cook dinner,” you tread lightly, knowing that he hates being babied by you. Him not pulling his weight is a common fight that the two of you have had, and he probably feels on edge when you ask him not to help out with the kids. 
“I can do it,” he snaps but suddenly sneezes, and it ends up making his nose prickle enough to cause his eyes to water. 
“Go do something else, laundry maybe. I’ll do this,” you say a little more firmly, strategically sending him to your bedroom to make him spot your bed and have some well-earned rest, “It’s really not a problem, and you know I hate doing laundry anyway.”
“Fine,” he holds his hands up in surrender. 
“I love you,” you say in a sing-song voice as he leaves the kitchen, “Go have your 20 minutes.”
Inés looks longingly after her father but you manage to distract her with a snack before she runs after him. You run your free hand over her hair as she eats a peanut butter sandwich, Sebastian cooing happily on your hip as he has been allowed to chew on a banana.
“Do you want to watch cartoons before dinner?” You ask, “Give Mommy some time to get things done in the kitchen, and then I can hear all about school while we eat?”
“Fine,” she parrots her dad, holding up her hands as well and running off to the living room. You follow her, setting Sebastian down in his playpen and turning on the baby monitor. Then you turn on the TV, adjust the volume, and let Inés busy herself by singing along to her favorite theme song. 
You finish emptying the dishwasher, cut vegetables, and throw them into the slow cooker with other ingredients, and after you check on both of your kids, you realize there’s some spare time before you have to pick Lucas up from his play date. 
You decide to go upstairs to do another round of laundry, but when you cannot find the laundry basket, you go to your bedroom. Javier must have taken it when folding clothes. 
“Jesus, why are you not resting? I sent you here so you’d eventually nap,” you groan as you enter the bedroom and see Javier putting his shirts on hangers. 
“I told you I’m fine,” he seems even more sick at this point, nose slightly congested and causing him to speak nasally, “I can do this.”
You walk up to him to yank a clothing hanger out of his hands and throw it onto the floor, receiving a glare in response. Javier doesn’t look pleased with your behavior, but you don’t find his stubborn attitude charming either. 
“Javier F. Peña,” you tut, “Just go lie down and trust that your wife has everything under control. It’s what a lot of husbands do, you know.”
“Well, wife, I don’t need your permission to do housework,” he tries to push past you but you catch him in a disarming embrace, giggling as he tries bending down to pick you up so he can move you out of his way. You avoid his efforts, catching him by the wrists when he straightens once more, and push him back towards the bed. 
“You need rest, husband,” you shove him when the back of his knees hit the edge of the bed, and he lets himself fall down into the mattress, bouncing slightly as it connects with his back. 
“I don’t need a nap, I’m not a child,” he groans dramatically. 
“Then stop acting like one,” you pull the baby monitor out of your pocket and place it on the nightstand. When Javier tries to sit up again, you snap your fingers and point at him, “Nuh-uh, lie down.” 
It makes you realize that you need to use alternative methods to get him to obey; he simply won’t do as he has been told, and if anyone is ever in doubt about where Inés gets her stubbornness from, you’ll simply glance over at her father to answer the question. 
“What if I treat you to something special?” You ask with a little smirk, moving to the end of the bed so you can proceed to crawl onto him. You sit on his legs, “Think that’ll make you relax?”
You already know the answer to that question. He looks ready to conk out. 
“I’m actually fine, I don’t need—“
“I know, Javi,” you reply. Your fingers find his crumpled shirt and you pull it out of his jeans, shoving it up over his stomach so you can access his belt, watching your husband twitch underneath you at the sound of the buckle clinking as you undo it. 
He lifts his head to watch as you tug down his jeans and underwear, “Just so you know, I’m not sleeping after this. I have to—“
“I know, Javi,” you repeat, bending down to nuzzle your nose against his soft stomach. His cock lays flaccid against his thigh, but you pull it out from underneath the waistband of his briefs to lay it against his tummy so you can skim your palm up and down the shaft. His soft cock slowly comes alive underneath your touch, and soon you can wrap your fist around him to stroke him till he stands completely erect. 
Below you, Javier groans when you press a kiss to his belly, “And I have to get the laundry done.” 
“Whatever you say, baby, let me take care of you and I’ll let you do as much laundry as you want,” you hum against his skin, relishing in his warmth and his so-called dad-body - the last year has blessed you with Javier getting a little softer to the touch - that you nuzzle up to at every opportunity you get. 
Javier isn’t a fan of himself growing soft around the middle but you savor it every time you get to see that bit of pudge strain against his usual jeans (which he refuses to buy in a bigger size). If you thought he was gorgeous when his muscles were toned and his body looked younger, you had not been prepared for how good he looks now that he is older, rounder, and getting comfortable. His arms are still deliciously strong; an overwhelmingly sexy result of still carrying Inés around everywhere, picking her up from the ground if she has a tantrum at the grocery store. 
“God, you’re so sexy,” you pinch his stomach to earn a little noise. Javier says your name in disapproval but you just look up at him with a smile, grabbing more of his pudge before biting into it and kissing it afterward, “Let your wife have her fun.”
Javier is just about to say something - you don’t know whether it is about his body, the lack of a blowjob, or laundry once more - but you know it’s more complaining and so you cut him off by running the flat of your tongue from base to tip of his cock. He tastes like salt. If you had the time, you would not finish until his scent and taste were everywhere on you. In your clothes, etched into your skin, and on your tongue. 
“Oh shi—“ he gasps, resting the back of his head on the mattress once more. He breathes deeply in through his mouth, nose still stuffed, and stares at the ceiling as you work your tongue up and down his shaft only to follow the wet trail with your nose.
When you reach his cockhead a third time, you suckle on the very tip to rid him of the pearl of precome that has accumulated at the slit and is threatening to slide down (you want to treat yourself to it before it does). Above you, Javier moans at feeling your mouth, not your tongue, properly for the first time. 
“Fucking hell, baby, gotta admit that I didn’t see this coming,” he half-chuckles, half-groans.
“Maybe I just wanted to shut you up for a moment. You are stubborn, you know,” you pull back to talk, look up at him, and nuzzle needily at his cock. He looks down at you but you simply smile, “I looove you for that though, not annoying at all.”
You follow your little snarky remark up with a press of your lips to the underside of his shaft, using a hot open-mouthed kiss to cut off whatever offense he might take from your teasing. He doesn’t even seem to register it after feeling your mouth on himself again. 
Then you let saliva gather in your mouth before spitting directly onto the head, using your hand to smear it down his length by stroking him a few times. You lean over him and bring your mouth down over his girth, no teasing or anything, until the thick head hits the back of your mouth. 
“Fuuuck, and then up again,” he groans, a strong hand reaching for whatever he can grab of you. His fingers curl around your shoulder, moving inwards until they dig into the back of your neck. Slowly, you drag your lips all the way off of him again. 
Javier makes a sound when you pull off but it quickly turns into a whimper as you let more saliva drip down. You smear this too, swirling your sinful tongue around the tip and occasionally licking like were you eating a popsicle on a summer’s day. 
You can feel him pulse against your lips, so you show mercy and let him into your mouth again. He is hot and heavy on your tongue and a moaning mess above you, nails starting to dig into your skin. 
You start bobbing your head, hand on the base of Javier’s cock to hold his generous size in place. When he bumps against your throat for the first time and thus makes you gag the first time, he lets out a sound that you can never get enough of and it causes your cunt to throb between your legs. 
“Who would think that a pretty girl sucks cock like that? Oh, fuck… I love you, just like that—” he talks in a way that makes you think he might not even be aware of what he is saying but is simply letting his mouth run, “Suck that cock, baby. Good fucking girl, married the right one, didn’t I?”
You hum in reply and he growls at the vibrations of your voice. The pride you feel is indescribable, and so you seek out his approval once again by moaning as you taste him. Even if it results in your eyelashes dampening from Javier pushing his hips upwards, you lean further down and force yourself to relax your throat. 
He slides into the tight space at the back of your throat and his hand flies to the top of your head. He fists your hair desperately when you gulp around him and make your throat spasm, tugging at your follicles to the point where tears slide down your face. Soon, they also mix with the spit coating his cock.
You swallow around him again. Javier holds your head with both hands now, “Can I - Christ - can I fuck this gorgeous mouth? Por favor (please), baby.”
Even if it is hurting a little, you nod the best you can because Javier’s groan as he starts thrusting his hips upward is worth any ache in your body. Your thighs flutter, your clit pulses. 
Both his hands gather your hair in a makeshift ponytail. He uses it to move your head as he pleases, makes you bob on his dick until you gag wetly with every other thrust of his hips. Every time he bucks his hips, his thigh muscles flex and your nose buries itself in his happy trail. 
“You gonna take it?” He rasps, chest heaving. He is nearly there, muscles in his whole body twitching as he slowly loses control over himself when pleasure is so close. The next thrusts are maddening and you can’t blink any tears away even if you tried, “Fuck, swallow, baby. Take my come.”
You look up at him through your wet lashes and hum a mhm, confirming. Yes, yes, yes, give it to me.
You know he is peaking when his breath stops. He holds it during the last thrusts, finally letting out a loud moan as he finishes and sucks in a deep breath afterward. 
His cock spurts in the next moment. You can feel it hit the back of your sore throat, warm and salty, in several pulses and automatically, you swallow hungrily around his girth. The action makes him groan weakly and his hips stutter until he finally needs to let go of you. His arms lie flat along his side.
“Holy fuck, baby,” he sighs contentedly when you pull off, “Fuck, I don’t even know what to say.”
“Don’t say anything, Daddy,” you tease, and then you treat the sensitive head of his cock to a few innocent kitten-licks, essentially cleaning him up until he softens. 
He whimpers when it becomes too much, and so you pull off to kiss him along his stomach. You can hear his breathing changing, turning into something less erratic. 
“You okay?” You eventually ask but receive no reply. You look up. 
As predicted, Javier snores. You smile to yourself as you push yourself away from him, careful not to wake him up as you pull his briefs and jeans up again, leaving the latter unbuttoned. 
“Javier Peña, the most stubborn man on the planet has a weakness,” you whisper and shake your head with a fond smile. 
You grab the baby monitor from the nightstand and leave him to sleep, knowing he’ll wake up feeling a lot more sick and, hopefully, a lot more cooperative. You bring him a glass of water and some Tylenol to wake up to, write a note for him about how much you adore him, and that you’ll take care of everything. He needs it. 
.
.
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enwoso · 17 hours
Note
Could you maybe write something for lia wälti? Maybe her and reader are babysitting a friends toddler, just some domesticity and lia swooning at r interacting with the kid
CAN’T WAIT - lia wälti
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"me want to help!" poppy smiled sweetly giving you those cute little eyes that made it so hard for you to say no to. "okay, you can have your own special job!" you smiled as you picked her up and sat her on the counter top, a small little cheer coming from the four year old as you tried to think of something you could give her to do to keep her little brain occupied for some time.
“look, so first we snap the end off then you’ll can open and put the peas in here” you demonstrated to poppy how to do the pea pods and she nodded as you showed her, a little smile appearing on her face as she managed to open a pod by herself.
“good job!” you smiled, holding you hand up for the little girl to high five. your girlfriend watching on as her heart warmed watching you interact with the young girl, her mind wandering for a moment about what life would be like when the two of you had your own little family, leaving her wondering if you had thought about it too.
poppy was your older brothers daughter, a confident little girl who was not scared to say or do anything. which sometimes would get the little girl in some trouble but it would always make for great stories when she was older.
you and lia had offered to look after poppy after your brother was left stuck after your mum had gotten her dates mixed up and could no longer look after poppy while your brother and his wife went for some spa retreat for their anniversary.
and if you were being honest part of you was glad your mum had gotten her date mixed up as it had meant you could spend some quality time with your niece.
you had picked the little girl up from school, surprising her as she came out the classroom running into both yours and lia's arms while talking at a hundred miles per hour at how excited she was to see the both of you.
chatting both yours and your girlfriends ears off the whole car ride back to yours and lia’s home, telling you every detail of her day from what she had for breakfast to what colour pencil she coloured her drawing in with at school.
now she was ‘helping’ make dinner and by that she was just ordering you and lia around. “can you help?” she asked as she held up a pea pod for you to open for her, you had given her the job of opening a few of them but realistically she was just getting you or lia to open them for her so she could eat the peas out of them.
“don’t forget to put the peas in here poppy!” you reminded her pointing to the blue little tub you had given poppy minutes earlier, “i won’t!” poppy sung out, as you handed her the pea pod back, and within seconds she was slotting two peas in her mouth and putting one in the little blue tub.
“think it’s a bit late for that love!” lia whispered nudging you to look inside the bowl, where there was three little peas in there as you looked to the swiss and mumbled an ‘ah’
“poppy! your not supposed to be eating them!” lia said as she caught the little girl putting another one of the peas in her mouth instead on in her little blue tub.
“me not wally, there’s some in my tub!”
“i guess we aren’t having peas tonight..” you whispered in lia’s ear as you rested your head on shoulder, while reaching to get some of the other ingredients for dinner that were on lia’s side of the kitchen, pressing a quick kiss behind her ear.
“she too cute to be mad at, so i guess it’s okay!” your girlfriend quietly said at the two of you watched for a moment as poppy used her teeth this time to bite the end of the pod, putting all three peas in her mouth, the two of you quickly laughing at the little girls antics.
“me don’t like broccoli” poppy said as she watched you pick that up first out of the ingredients you had moved to your side of the kitchen counter, as she pulled a disgusted face as she watched you chop a little bit of the stork of the broccoli.
“don’t worry kiddo, we’ll keep the greens to a minimum for you!” lia smiled, knowing that you would put them in the dinner but cut them up really fine making the chances of the little girl even noticing them very slim.
“my daddy says they look like tiny trees he doesn’t like them either” poppy said making your girlfriend giggle at the comment as you smiled shaking your head, that was what your brother used to tell you mum when she would ask him to eat his broccoli.
“well he’s not wrong”
now that dinner was out the way, you had decided on a film to watch. curtesy of poppy's choice it was settled you were watching luca. which you knew she had only picked for one reason.
“can we please skip to the silenzio bruno part?” poppy asked looking up at both you and lia as she was tucked up in between the two of you in her princess pyjamas.
“pops, we gotta watch it from the start!” lia smiled moving the loose hairs out from the front of her face as poppy mumbled a fine.
lia looked over and smiled over at you, as you moved a little closer to lia resting your head on her shoulder as she played with your hair. your breathing slowing out as you felt your body begin to relax.
by the time the film actually got to the part poppy wanted it at she had fallen asleep, soft snores coming from the four year olds lips. “i’ll go and take her up” you said as lia nodded as she kissed your cheek before you moved.
lifting poppy up carefully along with her little stuffed toy that she had took attached to her all evening, and carefully retreating to the spare bedroom where you had set up made the bed for poppy - putting two pillows at either side to make sure she didn’t fall out of the bed during the night.
tucking the little girl in with her teddy and blanket before kissing the top of her head and leaving the little night light on that your brother said she slept with on when she was at home before moving towards the door as closing it a little bit.
quickly going back down the stairs to where lia was, and walking into the living room to see that the swiss had not moved a muscle as she scrolled through her phone that was in her hand.
crashing on top of the swiss with a big sigh as she groaned, luckily being able to move her phone out the way quick enough to avoid it hitting her in the face.
“who would have thought looking after a four year old would be so tiring” you mumbled into her chest as your eyes felt heavy with tiredness.
“basically a full time job, baby” lia whispered as she giggled a little as you felt the vibrations of lia’s laugh from her chest.
you sat up, straddling lia as her hands found your waist, travelling a little up the back of your hoodie tracing small circles in your lower back. “i can’t wait until that us with our own little baby” lia said, at your eyes widened and lia began to back peddle. “no- no that- i” her face full of worry, scared that she had said the wrong thing.
you cut lia off by kissing her, smiling into the kiss as you hands went to the back of her neck. the kiss was pure and full of love and reassurance, pulling away after a few minutes, pecking her lips a few more times before lingering close to lia’s face smiling big as her face was now relaxed.
“i can’t wait to start a family with you either”
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harryspet · 4 months
Text
yours to tame (1) r. cameron
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[warnings] dark!alpha!rafe x reader, pogue!beta!reader, alpha!sarah x reader, werewolf au, a/b/o dynamics, ward is pack alpha, soulmate bond, forced marking, future NONCON/DUBCON READ AT YOUR OWN RISK 18+
A/N: new short series yayyy
In which the Moon Goddess cruelly picks Rafe Cameron to be your soulmate.
word count: 4.3k
main masterlist
You’d only come to this side of the island for two reasons: Sarah Cameron and your job at the country club. The rest of your time was spent with your friends in The Cut. The bars there had much better company. You dealt with Kooks enough, working as a beverage cart girl on the golf course. It was difficult for you to hold your tongue around them, that’s why you’d almost been fired twice, but luckily, your boss was a former Pogue who had a soft spot for you. 
The only way you’d entered the Alpha of Kildare’s house, Tannyhill, so far was through a window. Sarah hadn’t wanted to introduce you to her family yet, but today, he actually asked you to come to the front door. Her stepmom Rose answered the door, and Sarah introduced the two of you. Although Rose had a smile on her face throughout the short introduction, it was clear she disapproved of Sarah’s taste in friends. You met Wheezie too, who was much more welcoming. 
Although you were a Beta, you didn’t come from good stock. Your Dad became a Rogue not long after you were born, and your mother was always so depressed that you practically raised yourself. Although Sarah was an Alpha, her family saw her more as a bargaining chip to eventually be married off to the Alpha of another pack. Everyone assumed that her oldest brother would be the one to take over Kildare. 
Up in her room, Sarah quickly introduced you to her bed. You and Sarah were good friends ninety percent of the time when she and John B. were going strong, but the other ten percent when she and John B. were on the rocks, the two of you were much more than friends. Apparently, they’d gotten into a big fight last night, and, at first, you listened to her complain about how he hadn’t been making enough time for her lately.
“His deal is that he won’t invest more into us until we’re officially mated or whatever. But we’re so young, you know?”
“Sarah …what’s the real reason?”
She sighed, shaking her head, “It is because we’re young. I know we’re going to be together at the end of … all of this. But maybe I just don’t want to piss off my Dad just yet. He’d kick me out …”
“And then you’d be a full-on Pogue,” You finished for her, “I guess I get it. This house is insane.”
Sarah was needy, and oftentimes, she needed intense passion and adventure to feel loved. Once she finished venting, there was a change in her eyes as her mood shifted. From longing and sadness toward lust. 
You never liked Alphas, maybe that’s why you didn’t care about getting on John B’s bad side, but Sarah was different. She didn’t carry around a dark aura of corruption or force her will on others. She knew what she wanted all the time, and she was always willing to work to get it. 
You laid beside her, heads pressed against the pillows of her bed. She placed a hand on your waist and batted her long eyelashes at you. Slowly, her hands wandered underneath your t-shirt, “Would you want to sleep over?” She leaned closer, her voice soft, “I don’t think I want to be alone tonight.”
“Sure,” You answered as she leaned in to press her soft, full lips onto yours. The grip on your waist grew tighter as she pulled you closer. Although Sarah was an Alpha, she didn’t crave dominating you. You liked that she saw you as an equal. When she kissed you, she did it for both her pleasure and yours. 
She felt you up, massaging your breasts through your bra as the two of you made out. 
Hooking up with Sarah Cameron often involved a heavy makeout session followed by dry humping. Sarah liked to be on top because, you imagined, she liked the attention. She could work magic with her hips and wanted you to hold her waist as she did. You also had a perfect view of her from this angle. She pushed her dirty-blonde hair from her face, smirking down at you. 
“Have you ever been in heat, Y/N?” She asked. 
You thought about her question, “Not the typical kind, and it might happen once or twice a year.”
“What does it feel like?”
You frowned, “You feel weak like you don’t have control of your own body. And it makes me lack the ability to make good decisions. Remember when I hooked up with that Touron just because I thought his car was cool? Yeah, that was my heat.”
Sarah laughed, “I’m so glad you didn’t get knocked up.”
“You and me both,” you smiled at her. 
You stared at each other for a moment before Sarah leaned back down to kiss you. However, a pounding on the door interrupted you two. “Sarah! Sarah Cameron,” A deep voice sang from the other side of the door. As your heart jumped out of your chest, Sarah crawled off of you. She grabbed ahold of her shirt, trying to turn her shirt the right way around so she could put it on. 
You moved to fix your hair, but the door opened just as Sarah shouted, “Don’t come in!” 
“Sarah, why are there scratches on my truck?” The tall man narrowed his eyes on Sarah. His scent was strong, overpowering almost, and you felt a cloud of worry over you at the sight of him. You were distracted for a moment, the air had gone out of your lungs, but you remembered to fix the spaghetti straps on your top. 
“What are you talking about? I didn’t scratch your truck, Rafe!”
He rolled his eyes, “Oh yeah, why’d I find your damn bike right next to it. I told you to be careful, I don’t understand why you’re so hard-headed, you know? You’re going to pay to get it fixed.”
Sarah was the one rolling her eyes, “You’re insane if you think I’m doing that. I’m telling you, it wasn’t me.”
“And I’m supposed to believe you. All you do is lie, Sarah,” At the word lie his eyes finally landed on you, taking you in. Scenting you, no doubt, “This your friend? John B. know how many friends you have?”
“Screw you,” She hissed. 
You knew Rafe because everyone did. You knew what he was like mostly because of a girl you work with, an Omega named Sofia. He was like most Alphas, who preferred an Omega mate because they craved control, and he seemed like to type to pick someone purely based on how fertile they were. Sarah rarely talked about her own brother, and you were beginning to understand why. 
“I know you,” His eyes narrowed at you before he could place where he remembered you, “Cart girl.”
“Whiskey neat,” You responded, remembering what he always ordered. You also remembered he usually tipped well, even if he barely made eye contact with you. 
“Her name is Y/N.”
“You have some type of fetish for Pogues?” She scoffed, “You blow my mind, you really do.”
She lunged forward, pushing his chest, “Get out!” She commanded. He was clearly angry but wouldn’t challenge her further. He stepped back, turning on his heels, and she slammed the door as soon as he was in the hallway. 
“Ugh,” She groaned, her fists clenching, “I’m sorry, he’s . . . he’s rude and horrible.”
“I can see that,” You grabbed ahold of her hand as she climbed back on the bed. You attempted to calm her down, rubbing circles in her palm, “I’ve got thick skin, don’t worry.”
“You know you’re not just a hook-up, right?” Sarah looked at you, sincerity in her gaze. 
“Yeah,” You nodded, “Usually, for me, hooking up implies sex. We clearly haven’t done that.”
Her eyes darkened, and a mischievous smile grew on your face, “Oh, that’s my fault,” Sarah leaned in, “I didn’t want to scare you off, but …I wanna fuck that shit out of you, Y/N.”
“I’m all yours, Alpha,” You teased her, and that was the final straw before Sarah Cameron wrapped her arms around you and didn’t let you go for the entire night. 
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You arrived at the bonfire by the beach later than all your friends. You were trying to catch up with them, already on your third hard seltzer, and the buzz was quickly setting in. You were hesitant to go to a bonfire with both Kooks and Pogues invited, but so far, the night had been civil. There was a clear segregation, with a lot of the Kooks at the top of the beach by the dunes and a lot of the Pogues closer to the water. You were currently watching JJ and Pope wrestle each other in the sand. 
You bet 10 dollars on Pope winning while Kie was dead set on her boyfriend winning, “JJ has had like 8 beers. He literally becomes the Hulk when he’s shit-faced.”
“So? Pope is way smarter, though,” You retorted, “He’ll figure out a way to win.”
“You got me there,” You and Kie laughed together. 
Whenever you thought Pope might tap out, you screamed at him to keep going. It was an intense battle, but before the two of you knew it, Pope had kicked JJ’s feet from under him. JJ fell back into the shallow water, clearly hitting his head, “Shit,” You and Kie cursed simultaneously before you ran towards them. 
“You okay, JJ?” You kneeled down, looking down at his glazed-over eyes, “Did you pass out?”
Slowly, he shook his head, “Nah,” he groaned, “Pope just took the wind out of me.”
“You better not have a concussion,” Kie told him. 
After knowing JJ was fine, you cleared your throat, “No rush, of course, but I’ll be waiting for my ten bucks.”
“Yeah, whatever,” You heard Kie say, but you were already celebrating with Pope. 
As the rest of the night went on, you drank a little bit more than your normal limit. You were having the time of your life hanging out by the water and catching up with the people you hadn’t seen since graduation. 
You were standing by the fire, red solo cup in your hand, when you felt a hard tap on your shoulder, “Where’s Sarah?” A shrill voice asked, and you turned around to be met with the snarling face of a preppy, black-haired Kook. 
“What?” Your eyebrows furrowed. 
“Sarah Cameron?” She shrieked again, “Where is she? I know you know her, and I know she’s here!”
You looked around you, all of your friends now staring at you, “I know her, yeah, but you might have some vision problems because she’s clearly not here.”
You recognized the girl from the Glisson family, one of the most prominent families on the island. 
You moved to turn back towards the fire but the feral Kook was still yelling, “Fine, I need you to give her a message—”
Maybe it was the liquor but the sound of her voice was starting to make your blood boil. She was not respecting your personal space and she seemed entitled to your attention, “Do I look like her fucking assistant?”
“Y/N,” You heard Pope’s voice, “She’s plastered.”
You rolled your eyes at the warning. 
“Tell that bitch to stop running her mouth about me, especially to her brother. I am …I am not a whore. She’s the whore,” So this is what the Glisson girl was on about. Sarah had told Rafe she wasn’t the innocent virgin she claimed to be, “She’s the one with low standards, who fucks dirty Pogues, and pretends like she’s a good girl.”
You took a breath and stared back at the girl, “What did you say your name was?”
“Uh,” The girl was taken aback for a moment, “Madison Glisson, you can tell her the message was from me. And that she’ll be sorry when I am Luna of her pack.”
“Madison,” You smiled, “You got it. I’ll tell Sarah that you called her a dirty whore, and then I’ll tell her I beat your ass–”
As you tackled the girl to the ground, your friends began to shout your name in unison. Your drink spilled all over her, thankfully, and you quickly had the upper hand. Sand scratched you wrestled to hold her down. You’d already sniffed out that she was a Beta, and she was able to put up a fight once she got her bearings, but you were already whaling at her face, “You dumb bitch,” You shouted, “Who do you think you’re talking to, huh?” She screamed, trying to scratch and grab at your clothes. 
Your anger was partially because you felt protective of Sarah, but you also felt the girl had made a direct attack on your character and friends. You weren’t perfect, Sarah definitely wasn’t, but neither of you acted like you were. 
“Y/N, someone's going to call the cop!” You heard Kie shout. 
Hands grabbed your waist, and initially, you thought it might be Pope or JJ, but the touch sent heat over your skin. The person lifted you easily, and you thrashed in their arms until you felt a  sudden sense of calmness. As you were set down a few feet away from the fire, you locked eyes with Rafe Cameron. Your eyes grew impossibly wide, knowing that an Alpha’s touch should not feel like this, “You won, okay?” He said, lips parted and breathing heavily. His eyes were wide, too, looking down at you, “Wha …”
He pulled his hands from you, and that heat lingered on your waist. He stared at his ringed fingers, examining them, “W-What was that?” You finished, “Don’t …don’t touch me again.”
Rafe stood, backing away. With each step he took, there was an ache in your chest.
“Uh, Y/N, the cops are coming! We have to go!” You stumbled to your feet before you and your three friends ran in the opposite direction, away from Rafe Cameron. 
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Unfortunately, according to pack law, only Alphas can challenge other Alphas. Therefore, your case fell under the jurisdiction of Kildare County’s law enforcement. The Glisson’s pressed charges, of course, and you were facing a simple battery charge. The worst part was that they caught you on Friday night, which meant you had to spend the entire weekend in jail. You weren’t expecting anyone to put up any money for your bail, but it was just another shitty layer to your problem. 
You weren’t looking forward to groveling and begging for your job back. You also knew word would get around and that the Kooks would gossip about your drunken mistake. 
On Monday, you were surprised someone covered the entirety of your three-thousand-dollar bond. When you walked out of the jail in your dirty beach clothes, Rafe Cameron was certainly the last person you expected to see waiting for you.  He usually expressed only indifference towards you, but he almost seemed…concerned, “Sarah sent you?” You asked immediately. 
He shook his head, “Uh, no, I’m here for you,” He was backed against his large truck, his arms crossed in defense, “Because you did something so stupid."
“Excuse me?” You raised an eyebrow, “Whatever, I don’t want to know, goodbye.”
Swiftly, faster than you could comprehend, he grabbed your wrist. You yelped, quickly pulling your hand away. You remembered that electric feeling from the night on the beach, “I told you not to touch me,” You rushed out. 
“Get in the car, I can explain, Y/N.”
“No!”
“Listen, I feel it too,” He said, which made you pause, “If you get in the car, I can explain what’s going on.”
“Sarah didn’t send you?”
“No one knows you’re out except me. And I haven’t seen her; she’s probably scheming with the other Pogues to raise your bail money.”
You rubbed your temples, “I need to call them.”
You realized then that you must’ve lost your phone during the fight. By now, if no one stole it, your phone had gone out with the tide. 
“You can use my phone if you get in,” He offered. 
“If you try anything–” Rafe was already opening up the passenger side door. 
“Get in,” With a deep sigh, you climbed inside of his truck. 
This was a bad idea, although you were on a roll when it came to making bad decisions. Besides, you were curious about this sudden connection you and Rafe were experiencing. It was nothing good, that you were sure of, but you needed to figure out how to stop it. 
You were also sure he was working some Alpha voodoo on you. Rafe’s scent fully enveloped you inside the car, giving you that similar soothing feeling. When you tried to raise your defenses, to hone your heightened senses, you failed. You could barely concentrate on anything other than his smell. 
“Phone?” You asked after the truck pulled off. 
Although he seemed annoyed, Rafe pulled out his expensive phone, and typed in the password for you. Despite the fact that Sarah was confused as to why you were calling from her asshole brother’s phone, she was relieved to hear your voice. She and John B. had just entered a pawn shop, trying to sell some of her jewelry in order to raise money. You assure her that you’re okay and that Rafe is going to drop you at your house. 
You didn’t let her interrogate you for long because you had some interrogating to do yourself.
“Go ahead, explain yourself,” You said. 
“I’ve been, uh, questioning myself. You know, asking myself what kind of pack leader I’m going to be. How I’m going to live up to my Dad’s expectations and, uh, everything is becoming a lot clearer to me,” You stared with furrowed eyes, “Anyways, whatever, I realized, after I touched you that night on the beach, that we’re mates. True mates.”
“True mates …” You were already shaking your head, “What does that even mean?”
“Soulmates, Y/N!” Rafe gripped the wheel tightly, “Like hand-picked by the moon goddess kind of mates.”
“You and me?” You laughed. 
“I’m not lying,” Rafe grabbed ahold of your hand roughly. Your breathing quickened, and your eyes locked with his. Every muscle in your body was telling you to focus on him, to look at him and let him gaze upon you. 
“We’ll break the bond then,” You spoke through gritted teeth. 
Rafe let go of you, focusing his eyes back on the road, “That would be … extremely painful. For the both of us.” 
“I’m sure you would rather mate with someone else. Madison Glisson, for instance, remember her?”
“You do realize I just bailed you out of jail after you broke her nose, don’t you?” Rafe asked, “I’ve never been interested in her.”
“What about an Omega? Wouldn’t you rather have someone who’s going to listen and obey?”
“Betas are still ranked underneath Alphas. You’re supposed to listen and obey too–”
You scoffed, “I’m not that kind of Beta. See, it just doesn’t work.”
“I won’t reject you, Y/N, and you won't reject me either,” Your lips parted to respond, but you stared for a moment, dumbfounded, “Everything you had with my sister, or with anyone else, is over.”
“Rafe–”
“The Moon Goddess is offering you a great opportunity. A chance for a better life. Do…Do you have any idea what I could give you?” His voice grew deeper and darker. You should’ve known his nice guy routine was all an act to trap you here, “Huh?”
“I don’t want it.”
The car came to an abrupt stop as Rafe slammed on the brakes, pulling over into the dirt. The road was quiet but inside of Rafe’s car was far from that, “It’s Sarah. She’s got her little claws into you, yeah?”
“No, Rafe-”
“Yeah, I see what’s happening here,” Rafe nodded, “The way Sarah lives her life, toying with John B., messing with you, it’s not right. That’s no way to be a real leader.”
“She’s my friend,” You say, although you feel your voice growing smaller, Rafe’s presence taking over yours, “And I trust her more than I’d ever trust you.” 
“Do you think she’ll be loyal to you once she knows about us?” Rafe smiled, although you knew he wasn’t happy at all, and his eyes began to water. There was nothing else you could say to him; you knew that, and it was clear he was expecting a different reaction from you. He wanted you to fawn over him, to see how he’d taken care of you, and he wanted you to say thank you. He wanted an Omega which you’d never be. 
“Us? There will never be an us,” You sealed your fate with those words, grabbing the passenger door handle and practically falling out of Rafe’s truck. 
“Hey!” He shouted, trying to grab at you. 
Without another thought, you ran straight into the tree line. Despite the fact that you were running, you felt yourself breathe much easier, and your thoughts began to clear. That was the mate bond that you were feeling? You couldn’t imagine the Moon Goddess being so cruel to you. 
You ran from him, ignoring how right your name sounded on his lips. As he gained on you, your wolf took over. You were an experienced shifter, and you felt no pain as your bones molded and shifted. Your clothes tore from your body as you felt your speed increase. You glanced behind you to see how far he was behind you, but you saw a towering black figure with glowing red eyes. 
Angry with us, your wolf said; he’s angry with us. 
Slow down, this was Rafe’s voice now echoing in your head. He shouldn’t be able to get in your head like this. He wasn’t your Alpha, and you never accepted the bond. At a certain point, it didn’t matter how fast you were, as Rafe’s wolf was naturally stronger than yours. You still put up a fight, ignoring your wolf, as you and Rafe suddenly collided. You rolled through the forest underbrush, fighting for control, until Rafe finally landed on top of you. You did what you could to get him to let you go, biting at whatever you could. 
Shift, he tried to command you with his Alpha tone. You kept biting at him, which released an angry growl from his large form. Shift now, he tried again. Almost out of control, your wolf began to whimper. She hated that you were resisting him, rejecting him, and she began to punish you. You cried out as you were forced to shift, feeling every breaking bone and retracted claw or fang. 
You were weaker than you’d ever felt, lying naked on the forest floor. It felt like the first time you had shifted when transforming had left you bruised and bedridden for days. You breathed heavily, staring up at the Alpha before you. Rafe shifted easily, a muscular figure replacing black fur, sparkling blue eyes replacing red ones. 
“Please. Stop.”
“This is her will. Who am I to deny her?” Rafe grabbed your chin, turning your head to its side before sharp canines elongated from his mouth. Your shift had left you paralyzed, and you only could scream as Rafe sunk his teeth into your shoulder. 
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You and Sarah had many conversations about mate marks. John B. had almost bit Sarah in the middle of sex. It scared her so much she didn’t hook up with him for two months, although he was entirely apologetic. Alpha mates marked each other out of respect for their bond, and Alphas often marked Omegas to exhibit their claim. You knew immediately what Rafe had done wasn’t out of love or respect. He felt you slipping away and took the opportunity to try to control you. 
Now, every wolf on the island would be able to sense Rafe in your own scent. They’d know you were claimed by, out of all people, the Alpha of Kildare’s son. 
Rafe carried your naked figure back to his car; blood smeared over your skin before he finally drove you home. You were in and out of consciousness at that point, but you remembered hearing your mother’s panicked voice and Rafe placing you on the twin sized bed in your small room. 
The next time you came to, both Sarah and your mother were in your room. Sarah stood by the door, her arms crossed tightly, and your mother was sitting on the bed beside you, “He just left her like this,” You heard Sarah say, venom in her tone, “I didn’t …I didn’t ever think he would do something like this.”
“He better make an honest woman out of her,” Your mother said, and you felt her grab ahold of your hand, “Alpha Ward will recognize their bond, won’t he?”
“He won’t be happy about this,” Sarah shook her head, “But he doesn’t ever reprimand Rafe in the way he should. Whatever Rafe wants, he’ll go along with it.”
“And what do you think he wants?”
“To hurt me,” Sarah answered, “I’m sorry about all this. I should go. She needs more rest.”
You turned your head, wincing, “Sarah,” You called out to her, but she was already slipping out the door. 
“It’s okay, she’ll be back,” Your mother said, although you knew deep in your chest that everything was going to change now, “And Rafe, he told me that he would come back once you healed. He thought you might feel better faster if you were home with your family.”
As far as you were concerned, Sarah and the other pogues were closer to your family than the woman next to you would be, “You realize what he did to me…don’t you?”
“He chose you,” Your mother sounded almost cheerful, “And he’s going to be a very powerful man on this island. He’ll take care of you and me. Like your father never could …”
You turned your head to look at the ceiling, deciding then you’d use whatever energy you had left to be far from here whenever Rafe decided to “come back”. Even if your wolf hated you forever because of it.
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Let me know your thoughts and predictions! Those who reblog with their thoughts will be added to the taglist!
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lavendermunson · 4 months
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i want you, bless my soul - eddie munson
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from the candy cane box at leia's christmas tree farm
summary best friend au, with the prompt “So, um. That was something. Should we do that again?” for the one and only @onegirlmanytales thank you for requesting my love, I hope you like the direction I took and enjoy it so much!!
cw FLUFF. best friends to lovers. two oblivious idiots in love. r's first kiss. brief mention of insecurities. steve and robin cameo!
w.c 1.7k
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“No one has ever kissed me… let’s just forget about it!”
You sigh, placing the freshly baked cookies on a beautiful porcelain bowl Eddie gave you last Christmas. Their scent calming every nerve your best friend decides to play with today.  All of your friends are arriving in a couple of minutes for the annual Christmas party.
“You are telling me no one has ever kissed you under the rain?”
“Eddie please, just stop it”
“No one has ever kissed you under the moonlight!”
He tries to guess. You regret telling him about your first kiss. It hasn’t happened yet… but he thinks it has, he just thinks it was bad or embarrassing because you’ve never told him. And you tell him everything, he is your best friend.
“You are never going to guess, I'm tired of this now”
He chases you around your house, as you walk with the bowl of cookies in your hands. You place them on the coffee table of your living room, alongside all the other snacks and drinks to enjoy the night. 
“I know! no one has ever kissed you under the mistletoe. That’s why you don’t have one” 
Eddie thinks he hit the jackpot, smiling brightly at you. 
“No one has ever kissed me, okay!” you snap, tired of his games. “I haven’t had my first kiss yet” 
You throw your hands in the air, standing in front of him. Eddie was the only one who didn’t know about this. The rest of your friends know, because you know they weren’t going to laugh or make fun of you. But Eddie is capable of it, not because he is mean. His personality is just like that, he is the joke expert and the prank master. This was a serious topic to you, something that kept toying with your self-esteem.
Your arms fall to the side, your hands close on a fist, white knuckles and eyes shut trying to hide the embarrassment that’s eating you alive as you wait for Eddie to laugh at you and make a hundred jokes about this. 
You wish the floor could swallow you whole.
Eddie notices the way you tense up, confessing the secret you’ve held for a long time. He thought there was some catch to it, but there wasn’t. Who the fuck can live without ever kissing your lips? he asks himself, when he has been dreaming about it since the first time he met you at the arcade. 
You were babysitting the kids, holding their quarters for them as you paced around the sticky carpet. Back when Eddie’s ears got used to quieting down everything around him except your sweet voice. 
He didn’t want to lose you, he could never. And he was sure he wasn’t your type, with your room having a Karate Kid poster and a picture of Michael Schoeffling ripped out of a magazine.
Missing the picture of Eddie Van Halen on your jewelry box, he knew your type was far away from him. 
You were never going to like him, his friends would tease him about it. They would fill Eddie’s mind with ideas that tormented him before going to bed. You are way too out of his league.
He is happy with the best friend title because he gets the best friend treatment. He gets to hug you when you see him, cuddle with you on movie nights, and hang around his trailer all day. He would never trade your presence for anything, not a metal concert, not even the fame some rockstars get overnight.
For Eddie you are everything, you mean everything. His life is so much better with you around.
But he doesn’t laugh or start making a full comedy show, instead, you hear the thump of things falling out of his pockets. His lighter, a pack of cigarettes, previously chewed gum wrapped in a piece of paper, and his van keys. He empties his pockets trying to find what he has been looking for and when he finds it, he goes around your house looking for tape.
“What are you doing with that? no one is coming here to kiss me, only our friends” 
“Well? m’lady. I doubt you want to spend another Christmas unkissed” He takes your hand, guiding you closer to him until you are both under the mistletoe. “This is how it works, you stand here, and as the rule says you kiss the person in front of you”
You watch as Eddie taps the branch with his finger. Pointing at it, then at him, and finally at you. You are exactly in the spot, you look at him. Begging him to kiss you.
You've thought about it for a while. What would it be like to kiss him? Not someone random, not a guy who coats your ears with sugar at work. Just Eddie.
The guy who sits on the edge of his bed, shirtless, and while his fingers are gentle with the strings of his guitar you can’t do anything else but admire. Trying to memorize all of his features and tattoo that scene on your head for the rest of your life.
The guy who asked you to color his tattoos, trusting your artistic eye and trying to kill time before the pizza got to his trailer. You asked for a rain check that night, knowing you’d lose your mind the second your fingers touched his bare chest.
“And who’s gonna kiss me?” you ask. 
“Uhh, Jonathan?” Eddie asks, raising one of his eyebrows. Trying to question you to see who your type is.
“I pass” 
“Steve?” Eddie’s voice cracks. If you passed at Jonathan, there’s a high chance you could say yes to Steve and he would fall to his knees, defeated. 
“I don’t think so” 
His brown eyes are wide open. Shit. Not even Steve?
“Let’s just enjoy our evening…” Unless you want to kiss me, you think.  “Let’s forget about it”
You try to escape from the compromised positions, but your legs feel heavy as you step aside. You thought Eddie was going to kiss you. 
When you try to escape, he wraps his fingers around your wrist and pulls you back to him.
“Wait”
You feel a jolt of electricity, his touch being hard on you yet not hurting. His eyes looking for yours and when you finally lock your gaze with his. He takes a deep breath, ready to risk it all.
Eddie pulls you to his chest, resting a hand on the small of your back. You feel the goosebumps all over your body, his breath tingling your lips. He notices the shine in your eyes, pleading for him to do something because you are too nervous to move.
If he wanted to kiss you, he would kiss you. That’s what you believe. 
He looks at your eyes, at your lips. Impatient, he is making you melt under his touch, and you feel your insides are screaming at him to do something. You decide to wrap your arms around his waist, afraid of him slipping through your fingers and regretting this moment.
You capture him. As he looks down at you like a starved man. 
Eddie’s mind is clouded with hundreds of thoughts. This could be so good, this could get bad and ugly. It’s your first kiss, it should be special. It should be with someone you like, Do you like him? Do you want him?
He snaps back to reality when you reach for a strand of hair that fell to his face. Tugging the curl in the back of his ear. Your fingers send shivers through his spine, feeling your gentle touch against his skin. He melts under your touch too.
“Let’s get this over with” he breathes out, digging his fingertips on the small of your back to keep you close. His lips press against yours, you close your eyes enjoying the moment. 
But it’s your first kiss. You don’t know what to do, but just as you start to panic Eddie cups your cheeks, his thumb pressing against your warm skin. 
“Relax” he whispers on your lips, taking control of the situation. You feel his lips crash with yours, dancing against them as you try to keep up with the pace.
Is this how it feels? To kiss someone for the first time, or even better, to kiss the boy you love for the first time. Your mind is in the clouds, every part of your body feels lighter as a feather.
His lips are so soft. What the actual fuck? How were you able to survive so long without this?
It’s your first kiss. But it feels like it’s Eddie’s too. He can feel his body fill up with electricity, his heart thumping against his chest – just like yours – He has kissed girls before, even boys. But this feeling is new, he is finally kissing someone he loves.
“WOAH! They are kissing” You break away from the kiss as you hear Robin’s voice. She looks at you then at Eddie, a smile showing off on her face. “Sorry, keep doing that!” 
“Good job, guys!” Steve says, pushing Robin to the kitchen as she keeps her thumbs up in the air.
Eddie shakes his head, looking down at you. Seeing that smile he loves so much as you giggle, with your body so close to his. You try to catch the air he knocked out of your lungs, keeping him pressed against you.
“Woah indeed” His eyes look at the mistletoe, at your puffy pink lips, and at your flushed cheeks. He grins proudly. 
“That was… something” you smile, scrunching up your nose as you look at his matching pink lips and cheeks.
“Should we do it again?” he asks, his chest heaving up and down. 
“Please” you whisper, feeling your body yearning for more of him.
“Anything you want, princess”
He kisses you again, this time he quickens the pace of it. You feel his tongue brush against yours causing you to whimper. He giggles at your reaction, groaning for more of you. Eddie is addicted to your taste already. If the smell of your chapstick made him crazy, this sure is going to kill him.
You start to move your tongue, feeling the closure as your teeth crash with his, and the mix of chapstick and saliva, with a touch of cigarette coats your bottom lip. You can’t get enough of the feeling of his lips keeping yours warm and nice.
“Fuck, you taste good” his shaky words come out as he takes a breather, inches from your lips. His teeth find your bottom lip, nipping at it as you open your mouth for him once again.
You won't be spending Christmas unkissed.
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reblog to support your creators! comments are appreciated !! ♡ thank you for following my christmas event, your support means so much to me  🎄
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