#happy holidays you sweet souls | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

cowyolks · 5 months

Text

FAINT JINGLING BRASS

Pairing: Krampus! König x Female Reader

Prompt: There was something about you, something that urged the beast to enter your cottage. It was intrigued, sniffing the anguish of your very soul- and it wanted you.

Warnings: Predator/Prey Dynamics, stalking behaviors, spanking, oral (receiving), fingering, mutual masturbation, monster sex, p in v sex, breeding kink, creampie.

Words: 5.2 K

A/N: Yes, it has in fact, came to this. I have been a silent lover of the monster fucker committee, and this is my offering. Enjoy and Happy Holidays!

You hated Christmas.

It wasn’t always that way. When you were little, you’d help your father pick out a tree from the massive evergreen grove that bordered your childhood cottage on the outskirts of the Alps. You’d help your mother dry oranges and string popcorn to place on the pine-scented branches.

You’d laugh at the nostalgic sound of jingle bells and hum carols that your late grandmother had taught you. The scent of gingerbread and pine incense would seep through every room.

Christmas was a time of Joy, to celebrate the end of the year, and wait in anticipation for Saint Nicolas.

That all changed after the accident.

The coroner ruled it to be a mistake, some drunkard that was directing his sleigh too fast. You had survived the collision, insisting on riding in the back where you could see the glistening brass of the jingle bells attached to the back of the sleigh.

Now the sound nauseated you, filling you with a looming sense of dread and hate for all things Christmas.

The cottage that was once full of laughter and joy, was now empty and cold. Sweets that were once baked were replaced with bare necessities you would eat only to survive. Incense that once burned was replaced with small logs burning in the fireplace, keeping your body as warm as it could, despite the clothes that now swallowed you from your rapid weight loss.

You'd watch in envy from down the mountain swells, pinpointing the children skating on powdery ice, parents buying traded gifts and kissing under mistletoe.

Your hands, shaking in cold, shut the thin drapes with a bitter sigh. You would have to go down to the stores tomorrow, begging for at least a loaf of bread, or possibly a portion of cheese or dried meat. You would have to go in the early hours of the morning, before the obnoxious drunks put on their furry masks and horns for the second day Krampusnacht. They would run and terrorize the children on the cobbled streets, even the women who walked alone were not safe. It was a sick tradition you would try your best to avoid.

But for now, you wouldn't think of going to the village. You would do as you always did. Carry on.

Gathering the thick material of your shawl, you threw it on over your shoulders. Not even your sorrow could stop you from chores. With your worn boots placed over your cold feet, you stepped outdoors. Immediately you braced yourself against the cold, feeling the wind bite at your cheeks. The bitter snap of cold was harsh enough to make your teeth chatter and nipples stiffen.

Regardless, you pushed through the heavy snow down the shoveled path to the stables. Your Lipizzan mare, named Sterne, was huddled in the corner of her stall. Snowy fur highlighted her in the growing twilight. She huffed as you approached, white smoke leaving her nostrils, making her look like some sort of angry dragon. Perhaps she was, you were late in giving her dinner.

With a sigh, you grabbed the fork, pitching some old hay into her stall with a grunt. You were running low on feed too, you'd have to scrounge up some oats for her, and corn for the chickens.

A soft whinny echoed in the tight space, Sterne's frosted head bonking against your shoulder in a quiet thank you. Your mittened hands reached upwards, patting her withers gently.

"You up for a run to town tomorrow, girl?" You spoke to her, the only conversation you had started today, your voice raw from being unused. She whinnied again, understanding the word "ride" and pawing the dirt in anticipation. The mare was definitely more excited than you were.

With a final pat, you left her stall, throwing a half empty sack of corn over your shoulder on the way out. You spotted your beaten path in the growing darkness, making your way to the chickens that roosted in a small coop.

You hurriedly shuffled in the snow, your paranoid mind always screaming at you when it came to be dark. You never liked being out in the open, always feeling like you were being watched, despite the mountain tops sheltering your home.

You opened the coop door, pushing yourself into the tight space just to get rid of some of the paranoia. Your hens cooed at your presence, leaving their nesting boxes after hearing the shuffling of corn. You worked half-blind, pouring the corn into the wooden trough, and making sure they still had fresh water you melted this morning.

With a sigh, you braced yourself to leave the coop, glancing out the small window towards the forest before you committed. Nothing was seen in the tree line making your muscles unwind, relaxing slightly. You huffed, shaking your head at your ridiculous behavior, that was until you caught onto the strange prints in the snow.

They looked to be like the mountain goats that grazed upon the mountaintops, but they never came this close to people. And the prints were large, abnormally large. You glanced onward, observing the strange gait the prints had, like the goat or sheep was limping, or taking large steps.

The gears in your mind shifted, thinking of a logical reason why these prints made the hair on your neck stand.

Then, it hit you.

It was Krampusnacht, someone was obviously pulling a trick on you, walking with hoof imprints on boots, likely mimicking Krampus as well. You fumed, not being one to play into games, let alone ones dealing with your least favorite holiday.

You slammed the coop door shut behind you, marching through the snow and back to the cottage that was beginning to grow cold. Your hand hit the icy door twisting the large latch and opening the cottage to the chill. Before you could slam the door in your anger and fear, you halted, turning to face the dim landscape.

"I know you're there! Might as well come in, there is nothing of value here!" You shouted angrily, knowing how the village spoke of your family. How they whispered that you were some witch that murdered her parents and lived in a hut up the mountainside, far away so you could practice your spells and potions.

They would have nothing to take.

You slammed the door shut behind you, missing the hissing laughter and jingle of brass as the wind howled over the noise. Red eyes watched through the bedroom window, your oblivious form changing into a sheer shift and wool stockings for bedtime.

The beast tilted his head to the side, taking the time to inhale largely, breathing the scent of this human girl that was so intoxicatingly unique. He had never smelt anything quite like it, involuntarily his long, forked tongue swiped across his lips as you left the room.

Your eyes would dart across the room occasionally, making sure the curtains were still drawn from the main foyer where you would sleep next to the fireplace. You got to work on the candles, red wax burning down the sticks slow and lazily. You lit a couple around the house, basking in the warm glow despite the chill.

Your stomach growled, eating itself from the inside out. You had fed your animals, and now your body screamed, my turn. You decided on the last bit of homemade buckwheat bread. It was dry and stale, but it satisfied your hunger at least until the morning time.

There was little left to do but rest, but it seemed your body wouldn't be able to sleep with the possible threat outdoors. It could be nothing, but you couldn't let it go. You were too weak to fight off a grown man, unless perhaps you had your father's old crossbow, but that would take more strength to load than you had.

For now, all you could do was wait.

You smoothed out the thin cotton of your slip, sighing when you realized you would have to hem it, or you'd risk showing your breasts from the loss of weight. You tugged it upwards, smoothing it over your skin with a critical look.

You startled as the wind howled and whistled through the chimney, flickering the flames you worked so hard to produce. You leant forward, blowing gently upon them until the ashes brightened and it burned steady again.

You settled down upon the wooden floor, the planks covered in a thick arrangement of all the quilts and knitted blankets you owned. It was far too cold to sleep in your bedroom at the opposite end of the house, so your makeshift nest would have to do.

You hardly remembered closing your eyes, just that there was nothing better to do besides get some rest for your busy day tomorrow.

You dreamt of falling snow, the landscape only lit with the dull glow of the crescent moon above. You were in a clearing, pine trees growing over you as if they were extending to shake your hand. Then, as you began to swivel and study the landscape, a shrill sound of a bell made you turn in the direction, your own eyes settling on dark growing red ones, rectangular pupils dilating as it watched.

You woke up with a gasp, panicking at the loss of light throughout the room. The fireplace was glowing ash, signaling that you had been asleep for a few hours, although it only felt like minutes.

Your body was shivering, drawing you to the conclusion that you definitely woke up to the cold, not whatever nightmare your mind had conjured. With a yawn, you reached, placing more dead cedar onto the ashes, watching it hungrily catch.

“You need to relax.” You chided to yourself, rubbing your arms together as your eyes adjusted to the moonlight that flooded through the cracks in the curtains. It was a dangerous time to be by yourself, lights dimmed with nothing but your thoughts.

You thought of how around this time you would be in the village with your parents, pointing out the prettiest decorated trees, or indulging in a sweet treat like a slab of dark chocolate, or possibly an orange or apple.

You sighed, watching as the smoke curled away from your lips and swirled around the house. Eyes found the steady lick of flames, the wood popping and spilling ash so loud you missed the small creak of the floorboards behind you. The creature watched, intrigued at the visible curvature of your spine and the heady scent of dreadful nostalgia you wafted.

He wanted to make himself known, to feed off of your emotions and kill this foreign urge that had his body buzzing.

You froze when you heard the faint sound of a brass bell, throat bobbing as all your limbs seized up. A hissing purr releasing from directly behind you, startling you so much you hardly registered you were on your feet and turning to the sound.

Eyes rounded, a shriek threatening to escape your throat if it wasn't for the fact that you were frozen in fear. This thing, it was too real. All it did was stare, as if it was letting you take in his presence.

This thing was too tall to be a mere man or schoolboy from the village. The creature had to be at least eight feet tall, hunched over to avoid hitting the wooden rafters of the cottage. It wore a large coat made of old fur, likely wolf or bear, it covered the span of it's wide back and huge arms. The hood was pulled, but it couldn't possibly hide the large horns protruding from its head. Bells hung from the horns, ringing with every ragged breath it took. It was human, but not. A nose and mouth just like yours, until a forked tongue swept out like a serpent tasting the air. Human arms and muscular abdomen, but fur-covered powerful legs and hooves for feet.

Red eyes glowed back at you, just like the ones from your dreams. Realization sunk in—this creature had been watching you, polluting your dreams and feasting off your fear.

This was Krampus, and he was here to punish you.

Again, there was hissing laughter that rattled the rafters, causing you to flinch. His maw grinned, head tilting to the side in curiosity.

"I smell your fear, little one." It purred, as if amused by your rapidly beating heart. "Do you know who I am?" It asked in its hollow voice, although it looked as if his mouth hardly moved.

"Krampus." You squeaked, hair standing up on the ends of your neck as you took a step backward towards the fireplace, spine hitting the cold stones with a gentle thud. You would have to run, find a way to Sterne in the stables, because there was no way you would make it to the village on foot and match his massive stride and hooves.

Krampus seemed to catch onto your planning, because the creature took a single step forward, hoof knocking hard on the ground as it blinked in approval of your introduction.

"Very good, human. Though we prefer König." Hmm, King, the beast had dubbed his name after a ruler, despite his other half, Saint Nick, being far more beloved.

"Why are you here?" You whimpered, hoping to stall as your hand reached backwards to discretely find the stiff iron of the poker. If you could not run, you would fight.

"As if you don't know, girl? They call you witch under their breath, speak on how much you hate Christmas and people. How you haven't even visited your parent's graves. That's cold." It cackled at the joke, just as familiar anger flooded your veins at the mention of your family.

"Shut up!" You seethed, hand fisting the handle of the poker. "You don't know anything about me." Spoken like a cornered dog, ready to lash out at the hand who fed it.

"Don't I?" The creature drew closer, close enough you could see the claws on his paw like hands, the pointed ears that resembled an elf or nymph, and the birch whip he fastened over his cloak. König stepped within range, yet before you could stab the iron into flesh, a clawed hand grabbed your wrist, faster than you could have possibly moved.

The beast loomed over you, your chin only reaching the hard rigidness of his lower abdomen, where fur met human skin.

"I can smell the ambition, raw pain, starvation. You want revenge, don't you girl?"

It was true, you were far too ambitious for your own good. Plotting and planning ways you could murder the damn drunkard for killing the only people that mattered to you. Now, your heart was crushed in pieces, no family, no love, no acceptance.

Perhaps you were more like this beast then you thought.

While ambition ran through your veins, so did stubbornness. You wouldn't agree with him, at least verbally. Instead, your stare locked with his rectangular pupils, chin held high, and jaw clenched.

A slow smile spread across his lips, a growling laughter much like a whistle escaped him, just as he dropped your wrist. It fell to your side, aching slightly from his grip. "You're like nothing I've ever seen, Little One. You intrigue us." He slithered out.

"What do you want?" You spat, gaze falling on the birch switch slung over his shoulders, and the expansive length of his claws. He could kill you, but it was obvious you piqued his interest, despite you not really understanding why.

"To help you." König cackled, taking another step forward, now close enough that you could smell the scent of pine and earthen musk, not the rot they had told you Krampus stunk of in stories.

"Why?"

a clawed finger moved upwards, moving to the soft lines of your jaw. You turned slightly, cheek hitting the cold cobble of the fireplace to escape his touch. The sharp talon extended, brushing against your skin way too softly for a beast such as he. Predatory eyes dropped to your sheer nightdress, the material splaying softly over what little curves you had left. You exhaled nervously, suddenly drawing conclusions of what this thing wanted.

"No... No." You swatted his hand, an unknown feeling warming your gut at the look this monster had given you with flashing eyes.

A snap cracked throughout the cottage, candles lighting on their own as it luminated the wooden table near the fireplace. Your head rotated in that direction, peeking around the beast to see a table full of all foods imaginable. Roasted duck, chicken, potatoes, blood oranges, nuts, jams and jellies. Along the masses of food, glistened jewelry of golds and silvers, bloody rubies and glowing emerald. It was enough to buy the entire village.

You took a step forward, moving beyond the creature to get a better look, nearly hitting your head on his massive horns. It had to be some massive illusion, this whole thing a dream. Krampus, your parents, these treasures— all fake.

As your fingers ran through the cool texture of gold coins, and you felt the beast breathe down your neck— you knew it had to be real.

"I can give you all of this and more. I'll serve you your parent's killer on a silver platter, clothe you in silks and gold... give you more pleasure than any mortal man." He poisoned you, stopping your heart as a long tongue swept across the bounding pulse of your neck, leaving a warm and wet trace that had your legs going weak.

"All you have to do is give yourself to me, say yes." It nearly whimpered, making you believe you were not the only one tempted by such an offer, the creature was eager as well.

"And what if I say no?"

a firm warmth pressed against your back, the rippling muscles of his torso providing warmth that the cabin did not. "We will leave and never come back. But I believe that is not what you want, yes?"

Hesitation. Reflection. Decision.

"Take me."

A loud growl echoed the cabin at those two words. The creature picked up upon the nervousness you wafted like smoke, "Mach dir keine sorgen, Liebling. We will take good care of you."

All you could let out was a muffled squeak.

Clawed paws pressed against your collarbones, pushing your neck back and against the creature's abdomen. The beast was hunched, almost like it was encircling you like prey to get a better look at where to sink his teeth into.

It should have been wrong how good it felt to have his lips pressed to your neck, his mouth so dangerously close to you with those abnormally sharp teeth. He’d likely killed with them, but now he bit softly, pulling purplish bruises to the surface that he’d soothingly lick with his long and forked tongue. Claws smoothed over the sheer shift you wore, pulling a moan from your throat when he scraped the sharp point against your nipple.

A fistful of your breast, kneading, "You like that, girl?"

You gasped, feeling the growing heat radiate through your body as strong hands tore at the clothes, freeing your skin to the chilling air. The torn shift dropped to the ground with a dull thud, leaving you completely exposed to the beast that was nearly rattling in primal satisfaction.

A sharp crack echoed the room, a raw yet delicious sting radiated over the swell of your rear, making you gasp and catch your breath. Konig had backed away, his other hand now grasping the birch switch in his grip.

"Answer when I speak, Liebling... yes?" The creature cackled, eyes glowing a dark crimson as the bells upon his horns continued to jingle mockingly. You nodded, head tilted to the side so you could see what he was doing. Then another cracked echoed, the switch burning upon your other cheek, likely leaving delightful red marks.

"With words, little one."

"Yes, yes, I understand." You moaned, sighing in relief when the beast rubbed the irritated skin in some sort of apology. A large inhale escaped him, low purring once again rumbling his chest.

"We smell you, how sweet you are. Would you let us taste?" It was not a question, but a demand. As soon as you gave the approval to his deal, this beast would not stop until it had its way with you. You found yourself buzzing in excitement instead of grief.

"Yes."

Paws maneuvered you, letting your naked body fall back onto the nest of blankets and fur you had made in front of the burning fireplace. It was in the burning glow that you could truly see the beast, the intelligence beneath his eyes, the human nose that was curved and looked to be once broken, the darkness of stubble that covered a sharp jaw, the spiral pattern of horns, the pale glow of his skin where muscle bulged, the scars and burns that littered its torso. Then, the lower half, the dark coarse fur and shiny hooves that allowed it speed and warmth.

What had really caught your eye was the growing erection between fur and skin. It was massive, and slowly sliding out of a sheath like pocket of his body. His cock was human-like, despite the size- a large shaft twisting with veins and ending with a round tip, flushed and needy. Heavy and hairy balls hung low, making you completely second guess this whole situation you wound yourself in.

The beast noticed your stare, paw going under your chin to lock eyes with you. "Do not be so scared, little one, I'll make it fit, we just have to get you ready. Be a good girl and lay back..."

You did as you were told, focusing instead on the soft material on your bare back, and the warm heat of the fireplace wafting over your body.

Paws petted down your sides, sliding over your hips and making you shiver as he gripped below your thighs, spreading them apart so you were bared to him.

A foreign curse escaped the beast as it settled hungrily between your body, studying the sheer arousal you embarrassedly leaked. A finger prodded your slit, allowing you to hear the lewd sounds of your juices. You moaned as he spread it up and down, playfully flicking upon the puffy bead of your clit.

"Smell so divine..." It hissed, eyes locking with yours for a moment until he ducked lower, just the long expansion of his horns to be seen. Hot breath filtered across your aching cunt, making it clench around nothing. Then a sudden flick of a wet muscle startled you, making you jump and mewl.

"Taste good too, little one." The beast purred, caging your fidgeting hips against strong arms so you could no longer move against him. Eyes fluttered shut when you felt him once again lick a painfully slow stripe up your slit, collecting so much of your arousal you should have been embarrassed.

The beast was humming, seemingly enjoying the taste just as much as you were enjoying the pressure of his teasing tongue slipping over your clit.

"Please... inside." You managed to beg as the forked tongue parted lengthily from his mouth, entering the smooth and molten heat of your cunt. The muscle curled, burrowing further against your walls as you cried out in pain and pleasure.

He was stretching you, no doubt getting you prepped for what was to come. He pulled backwards, leaving your hole cold and needing. You whined, feeling completely empty until he filled you again, this time quicker and rougher.

"Fuck..." You moaned, eyes closing and head falling backwards against the wooly blanket. Claws pressed into the inside of your thighs, pulling you further apart and nearly penetrating your skin enough to draw blood.

König pulled away, licking upon your clit teasingly, "Such naughty words coming out of a girl so pretty. Shall we punish you, again?"

You whined, attempting to push your hips against his mouth, lips now covered in your slick. Sharp teeth smirked at the reaction and excitement flashed across his eyes at your blissed expression.

"Words, Liebling..." The beast warned, shifting higher to run his tongue across your breasts, leaving hot trails that cooled against the room's frigid temperature.

"Please, need you." Your chest heaved, nipples hard and bared to him as he continued to suckle and lick upon the flesh.

"So needy for my cock, but you are not ready, we would split you in two. Touch yourself." The beast ordered. You didn't dare refuse, slipping your fingers down towards your aching core. You were in shock by just how much molten slick coated your fingertips. You shyly began to circle your bud, sighing in relief as the creature fell back on his haunches to watch.

It was busy licking his lips, savoring the taste of your juices as his own paw settled upon his cock, giving it a slow pump. He watched as you moaned softly, legs becoming jelly from so much overstimulation without yet cumming.

"Inside, girl. Stretch yourself."

Your face flushed in embarrassment, but you sunk your index and middle finger inside you, moaning at the contact and noise the juices had made. The beast seemed to like it as well, because his hand fisting his cock began to increase speed.

You curled your fingers, groaning at the feeling, but realizing it did not feel as heavenly as his tongue. Your gaze landed on his paws, how his fingers were long and thick, wrapping around the whole base of his cock, it made you huff in want.

König was watching, looking at your every move. "You want my fingers, little one?"

"Yes."

A chuckling hiss left him again, just as he loomed above you once more. Your fingers left your cunt, leaving you open and throbbing for the beast to continue. A clawed finger scraped your moisture, coating it with arousal before it slipped heavenly inside you, the sharp point curling inwards.

It hurt, but oh how it felt euphoric.

The beast growled at the noises you made, cock twitching achingly against your thigh. He added another finger, picking up his pace as he continued to feed upon your moans, curiosity crawling across his face as you gripped the sheets.

"Going to- mmph," You stuttered, clenching down on his fingers, feeling the squelching of your cunt as you clamped around him, white hot pleasure leaving your body in waves as you shook and cried against him.

"So schön..." The beast kept muttering over and over again, reluctant to leave your heat but excited for what was to come.

You yelped as the creature grabbed you, your body still buzzing in pleasure. The beast huffed, smelling the scent of your orgasm and the need that still flowed from your veins. You were crushed against his torso, secured against him until he laid back and sprawled. His cock lay twitching between your legs, your slick coating the shaft as he maneuvered you above him.

It was a submissive position for him, allowing you to be on top of such a creature. You had a million questions- why wouldn't he take you like the half-animal he was, or at least allow himself the pleasure to sink into you instead of you maneuvering the pace?

A hand kneaded the flesh of your ass, lifting your body up as his other settled upon the mass length of his cock.

Then it all clicked.

The creature wanted you to begin, to stretch yourself out as he watched. He wanted to see your expression as you lost yourself and locked him inside you. It made you that much more eager to please him.

König slid his cock against your slick, growling in anticipation as the head lined with your small hole.

"Go slow, little one. Do not hurt yourself."

You bent your knees, lowering slowly onto his head. He hissed at such a tight squeeze, claws imprinting into your hips once again as he held you up.

"So tight," it hissed, tongue nearly lolling out of his mouth like a dog.

Your eyes rolled back in your head, foreign to the feeling of being so impossibly full. Your walls burned at the stretch, but you pushed forward more, until it grew so painful you had to halt your movements.

"Too much." You weakly spoke, halting on his length that throbbed in need. You couldn't have been more than halfway down his shaft.

"Shh..." The creature cooed, running soft paws down your sides again, a soothing pattern. It began to purr, the vibrations somewhat of a lullaby as he rattled. You relaxed slightly, feeling the warmth of him. Your body changed, cunt opening up slightly with preparation to take the rest of him.

You sighed, sinking further until your ass hit the furry coat of his thighs, the soft texture comforting you further. You cooed at the stretch, noticing that the beast was uncharacteristically quiet with its eyes closed.

You found yourself missing the attention.

Hips jutting forward, sawing into his abdomen as you ground down upon his cock. Red eyes flew open, a growl leaving his throat as a slap landed across your sore rear again.

"Squeezing me so good, human. I will breed you." The creature decided, claws pulling upon your ass and lifting you halfway up and slamming you back down against his swollen balls.

You moaned, never feeling more full in your life. He lifted you higher, seemingly no longer caring that you controlled. It must have been against his nature, and it was obvious as he lifted you completely off of him.

You were flipped, as if you weighed nothing more than a simple sack of flour. A hand pushed upon your back, making your spine arch as you settled upon your hands and knees, ass up and bared to your purring monster.

"Such a pretty one, bared to me and needy." It hissed, plunging his glistening cock into your wet heat with no warning. Furry thighs slammed against your ass, pulling you back into him with such power you lost your breath.

You struggled to clutch onto something, settling on your quilts as you mewled out in white-hot pleasure. It continued its blinding pace, slamming in and pulling out nearly all the way before hitting the tip of your womb again.

Pressure began to build up in your stomach, body crying again for another release. You arched further against him, meeting his thrusts in a sloppy sounding slap.

"That's it, Liebling. Cum for me now, and I'll fill you up."

Nothing sounded better.

With one last snap of his hips, you were releasing, crying out into the dark cabin. You clenched around him, gushing and clamping to him so much you felt the stutter of his movement as his arms pulled you closer, pushing his throbbing cock so far into you, you could feel the bulge against your stomach.

White hot liquid pooled into your cervix, coating you and staining your body for the rest of your life. You would never be fucked the same way again, and the beast knew it as well.

König maneuvered you again, settling you upon the soft blankets as you both panted from pleasure and exhaustion. Purrs rumbled from his chest as your body curled into his own, still connected.

"You are mine to take care of now, little one."

Exhausted eyes closed, settling in a peaceful slumber aided by the soft jingle of brass bells.

Maybe, Christmas would not be so bad after all.

Tags: @mykneeshurt @glitterypirateduck

#cod #call of duty modern warfare #modern warfare #könig #monster könig #König x reader #könig x you #monster fucker #monster smut #this is a bit out of my comfort zone but oh well #konig x reader #konig

2K notes · View notes

queers-gambit · 3 months

Text

Lost and Found

prompt: ( requested ) you're just friends, but on your first night at Saltburn, you get lost in the vast halls and accidentally walk in on lover boy after a bath. he wants you to stay.

pairing: Felix Catton x female!reader

fandom masterlist: Saltburn

word count: 3.6k+

note: this SHOULD'VE gotten slutty, but it DIDN'T because i'm back in the hospital and the LAST thing i need is a nurse walking in on me writing fucking smut - oh, my God, can you imagine? new fear unlocked!

warnings: RIP Queen Lizzie, cursing, sexual tension, emotions are hard, Lord's name in vain, depiction of mental illness (anxiety), author throws in a little personal detail cause writing is therapy.

"Honestly, who lives in a place like this? The bloody Queen, that's who. Her and all her fucking rooms! Jesus!" You grumbled, dipping down another winding hallway. "All right, this looks familiar, that's... Encouraging, right?" You frowned, glass of water in hand after venturing to the kitchen to fetch it - but now, you couldn't navigate your way back to your room. "Of course," you growled quietly, opening a door and finding a linen closet.

How silly, in a place like this! A fucking linen closet!

You huffed and shut the door, feeling incredibly awkward and terribly misplaced. You mind screamed that didn't belong here, you never should've set foot in a place like this! How fucking foolish you felt, like a silly little girl who was just excited her crush spoke to her, let alone invited you home with him for the summer holiday.

But it was Felix fucking Catton - certified enigma. He was all man with a boyish charm who smiled at you on move-in day at Oxford and sealed your fate. He was ridiculously nice, so very sweet, borderline annoying with his giving nature and kindness. He was loyal to a fault, intuitive, observant, admirably carefree, and so very happy to give his love to anyone who needed it. For a few weeks, you felt almost offended by his attention, wondering what kind of broken soul he thought you were; knowing he had an affinity for "damaged" or "broken" things.

At least, that's what his cousin, Oxford's registered and certified catty bitch, Farleigh Start, teased you about relentlessly when he noted the way Felix hung around you. Felix invited you out with friends, offered to study together, walked you to and from classes - even if his were in the literal opposite direction. You had no honest idea how the two were related, given Farleigh's constant attitude and Felix's overwhelming kindness, but that wasn't for you to understand. You just relished the attention Felix bestowed in-between your skepticism.

And here you are, your first night in his home, Saltburn, completely lost and totally turned-around! You didn't need water all that bad, did you? Granted, you had a several tablets to take that evening to maintain your health, but you could've used the fucking sink in the adjoining bathroom! You grew frustrated the more doors you opened, finding empty rooms or closets or another fucking library or studies or whatever! As if this home wasn't big enough, there were multiple levels and all you knew was that you and Felix were both located on the same floor with his parents above you and his sister and Farleigh beneath.

So, that helped.

But you still felt so fucking silly.

Seriously, who got LOST in someone else's home!? Fools, that's who!

Okay, okay, okay, you didn't need to be so hard on yourself, but you grew nervous and fearful for a reason you didn't understand. Your anxiety was planted in your stomach, festering, growing, taking over you to the point that you had tears in your eyes when you found yet ANOTHER fucking study!

"Oh, even the bloody fucking Queen doesn't have this many useless rooms, and she's a much bigger family, Jesus fucking Christ," you sneered to yourself - ready to give up and just sleep in one of the empty rooms. But you didn't want Duncan finding you in the morning, asking questions, forcing you to admit you were lost - you felt humiliated enough as it was! And that was without anyone witnessing this absolute mess you had made!

Well, not technically a mess - but you felt like a mess the more you crept around. And now, you felt fucking creepy - like some stalker, sneaking around the halls, trying to spy on this very nice family. You knew you weren't, but the feeling was still there - fucking anxiety would honestly be the death of you.

However, you came upon a familiar (enough) door that had a gentle light emitting from under it. With a sigh of relief, you suddenly remembered leaving a light on for yourself to return to; reaching for the doorknob, twisting it, and darting into the room while swiftly swinging the door close - but halting it to shut quietly as to not disturb anyone in the empty halls.

Yeah, anxiety was a bitch.

"Ohh-ho, evenin', love," a voice greeted, making you gasp, jump, and twist around. "Miss me that much? Heard the drain on the tub, didn't yah, had to come sneak a peek?"

Felix fucking Catton stood at the end of a messy bed in all his glory, running a towel through his wet curls. Nothing obscuring your sight, nothing hiding his manhood, nothing - literally nothing on his body except a shit-eating grin.

"Jesus, Fi! Fuck, I-I-I'm so - um," you gulped, trying not to ogle him, but failing (miserably) when beads of water rolled between the contours of his impossibly impressively sculpted muscles. "I just - you know, this place is so bloody big - um, I'm sorry - I just... Yeah..."

He smirked, nodding sarcastically, "Uh-huh. And you just happened to stumble into my room? Pretty good timing, too, wasn't it?"

You squeaked, "I didn't mean to! I swear - Felix, I'm sorry, I really didn't mean to, um, yeah, you know - uh..."

"Like what you see, sweetheart? Why don't you come in closer, get a better look?"

You adverted your eyes out of respect and fumbled messily for the door handle. "Oh, sweet Jesus. Bloody house is just too bloody big, I got all turned around - just needed some water and I just - fuck, I'm sorry - "

"Hey, hey," Felix chuckled, wrapping his towel loosely around his hips so his V-line was still on raunchy display, "I'm only teasin', love. I know this place can get confusin' t'newcomers. I actually meant to grab you some water, know you gotta take your tablets."

You swallowed your embarrassment, sighing, "I'll just - yeah - no - I'll, um, just go - I'm so sorry, again."

"You know where you're goin' all of a sudden?"

You faced the door, not wanting to make him uncomfortable, shaking your head gently, "Well, no, but I'll figure it out - I left a, um, I left a light on, you know, to help - I don't know - uh, guide me?"

"You've not stuttered this much since we first met," he laughed, tugging a pair of boxers on for your sanity (and to your dismay). "I'm dressed, doll, you can look at me now. C'mon, bit weird talkin' to your back."

"We're not talking, Felix, I'm going to bed."

"Then why haven't you left yet?"

You blinked at the intricately carved door, realizing your hand was still on the knob, but it hadn't turned. "I didn't want to be so rude as to just walk out, mid-sentence!"

"Hey, hey, you're all right, darlin', I'm only teasin'," he grinned, hearing his bare feet pad over the ground before his warm hand wrapped around your elbow. "C'mon, love, hang with me a bit - 's not that late, is it?"

"Oh, so, Duncan can walk in? Make his assumptions?" You whispered, slowly facing him and leaning back on the door with a pout. His big, brown, doe-eyes stared directly into yours, making you feel under his spotlight - something akin to a privilege, since Felix Catton didn't bestow his attention on everyone. "I just needed water, I didn't mean t'get, you know, lost like this. Seriously, this place looks totally different at night."

"Surprised you even got this far, huh?"

"I looked in any room with an open door," you admitted with a small wince. "I felt so creepy, but I was all turned around - and you know, you shouldn't leave other lights on in rooms not being used. Terrible waste of energy."

"Awh, my sweet, environmentally-conscious girl," he cooed, hand raising to gently pinch your jaw. There was a serene moment, the pair of you just staring at one another, becoming acutely aware that he was still practically naked. "C'mon, don't leave yet, we can play cards if you like?"

"I've medicine t'take - "

"Right, right, right," he nodded, letting his hand drift to hold your neck in a gentle grasp. "Tell you what, you stay here, I'll grab your meds, and bring them back? You keep 'em in that li'l pink bag, yeah?"

"I don't know how to feel that you know which is my med bag," you narrowed your eyes playfully.

"Just shows I pay attention, don't it?"

"Maybe shows we spend too much time together?"

He kissed his teeth, grinning at you, "There's no such thing - in fact! I reckon we could double our time together and it still wouldn't feel like enough."

"Well, how's that help me later? I still don't know where my room is - oh, don't laugh!" You groaned, Felix snickering louder. "Fi, c'mon, it's not funny - this place is huge! Like, illegally huge!"

He cooed, "Oh, doll, 'M not laughing at you, promise. Just... You're not the first person t'get lost here, yeah?"

You scoffed with severe discomfort, "I really don't want t'hear 'bout all the other girls you've brought home - "

"Hey, now," he cut you off swiftly, "don't do that." He shrugged meekly, "There's been no others, just friends. Mine, Farleigh's, Venetia's... They've all gotten lost once or twice... Or that time we had to actually draw Reggie a map, poor lad got lost around every bend."

You rolled your eyes, "Truly expect me to believe that, do you?" Then you let your eyes widen a fraction, teasing, "Oh, wow, you really believe it! You really believe you haven't brought home other girls who you're interested in or who are into you?"

He crowded you into the door, shifting the room's energy to something sultry, making you hold your breath as his hand slid into your hair. "You know you're the only one, right?"

"You know that's absolute bullshite, right? Like, what a fucking line!"

He tisked, "C'mon, doll."

"Be honest, Felix."

His head cocked, "Want the truth?"

"That'd be a nice change of pace."

He scoffed lightly, "I don't give a single fuck if any of our previous guests cared for me - only you. Hear me?" He took the last step so he was stood with his feet slotted between yours. "I didn't bring them here for any other reason than friendly entertainment. You've seen the place, as big as it is, can get a bit lonely without anyone to hang with. But I asked you here... For different reasons..." He whispered, eyes jutting down to your lips as he kept a firm hold on you.

"And what reasons are those, Fi?"

He smirked, "Obviously... To kick your arse at cards."

You were flooded with pure disappointment. Raw, unfiltered disappointment that deflated your shoulders. "Yeah, right, like that would ever happen," you covered, nudging him a single step away from you. "Wanna be a gentleman and direct me to my room now?"

"Nope," he grinned, snatching your hand and yanking you away from the door. "You're gonna sit your pretty self right here," he nudged you to the edge of his bed, turning for his desk, then turning back to you to slap a deck of cards to your hand, "you're gonna shuffle these, and mentally prepare to get your arse handed to you at your own game."

You chuckled slightly, "Thought you hated 51 Rummy?"

"Only when sober," he smirked, leaning down to peck your forehead sweetly. "Sit tight, doll, I'll be a moment, yeah?"

You sighed and watched him exit the room, reaching to set your glass of water down and observe the room. In a moment of weakness, you pet over his sheets as if tempted to snuggle into them - and you were! You were cold from the lack of robe you meant to shrug on, and wondering the halls of Saltburn took much longer than you anticipated - now wanting to dive into the warmth you knew was left, the same warmth that Felix left on everything.

You jumped when the door opened again, Felix slipping inside with your little pink bag. His brows pinched, "All right, love?"

"Hmm? Yeah - "

"Your feet are nearly blue," he shook his head, handing you your bag before turning for his wardrobe. "Socks or sweats?"

"Huh?"

He turned, holding up a pair of sweatpants and socks, repeating, "Socks or sweats? Figured you're a bit cold in that." The left side of his mouth quirked up in a smirk, eyeing you in your sleep shorts and loose teeshirt that had the collar ripped out, showing a hint of cleavage.

"Oh, uh, socks, please."

He tossed you the socks, dropped the sweats, and joined you on the bed as you pulled the oversized garment onto your feet. "C'mere, get close, get comfortable," he chuckled, pushing his blankets down to sit in the sheets, waiting until you turned in the bed to yank the blankets up over both your legs. "Didn't shuffle? My naughty girl," he joked, reaching for the deck of cards and opening it. He offered a much softer smile, eyes darting to your medicine bag, and then focusing on the cards - as if to give you privacy to take your meds.

You did so quickly, insecure about the rattling bottles and the amount of tablets in your cupped hand, but never once had Felix made you feel bad about your needs. After swallowing them, you cleared your throat and turned to face Felix as he divided the cards for the game, nodding to his side table, "Paper's over there, doll, for the score."

"Sure you want me to keep score?" You asked softly, reaching for the pad of paper and spare pen. "Last time we played, you lost so very miserably, I was embarrassed for you. We can save your pride a li'l, not keep score."

"It's only polite to let the pretty lady win."

"Oh, tryin' to butter me up, are you?"

"Is it working?"

"I'll let you know."

Felix chuckled, leaning back to the headboard. Then, he asked softly, "You feelin' all right?"

"Hmm? Oh, yeah, all good."

"Sure?"

"Why?"

"Hands are shakin' a bit."

You eyed him for a moment, changing the subject by asking, "How're you not freezing? Seriously, 's like the floors are air conditioned."

"Nah, just not cold."

"Your nipples say otherwise."

"Lookin' at my nipples, are you?" He grinned. "Now you're a very naughty girl, knew you didn't stumble into my room on accident!"

"Oh, don't flatter yourself!" You pushed his shoulder, but he leaned closer. "Felix - "

"You could just stay here," he offered softly.

"You got me for a game - "

"No, I mean, uh..." He chuckled to himself, shaking his head and readjusting so he was supported on one elbow, facing you. "Nah, nevermind, all right, so, back to the game - "

"No, wait, say what you're thinking," you encouraged softly. "Know I hate you doin' that."

"Yeah, you get all anxious," he nodded. "I don't want t'be too forward, all right? But... You know, we sleep together at Oxford. I-In the dorms, you know?"

"Yeah, and?"

"Just thought, maybe you'd wanna stay here? With me? If you want, won't make yah, sweetheart, just thought... You know, in a house this big, you wouldn't get so lost stayin' here... Maybe?"

"Oh, aren't you my hero?"

"I know, I know, I'm just tryna look out for you, my li'l lost love. And, you know, prevent you from finding our secret dungeon," he gasped comically.

"That's not even a joke 'cause I'd believe it in a place like this. Is it a dungeon for torture or sex?"

"Wouldn't you like to know."

"Maybe I'd like to see it. Hm," you considered, "maybe I should stay here, you know - so you can show me around and go get me water when I need it. Save my toes from freezing off, wonderin' 'round here."

He grinned, "Yeah?"

"If it's not too scandalous?"

"'S not like anyone would care... Except me, you know? I'd... I'd like you to stay here. Like havin' you close, sweetheart."

"Well, maybe you could put some clothes on? You're terribly fucking distracting! I'm here to win a card game, and I'll be damned if you win 'cause your abs are... You know, staring right at me, you cheater," you grinned, turning to face him fully with your legs crossed, the space in the sheets open for your cards.

"I think you like me naked," he grinned. "I mean, you stared long enough."

"I was just caught off guard!"

"Oh, I'm sure," his grin turned wicked. "You're still staring, doll."

"Well, it's not as if you're quick to cover yourself!"

"You're not too quick t'look away, either!"

"I was - "

"Caught off guard, yeah, you've said," he chuckled, staring at you with those moony brown eyes that made you feel as if you were the only girl he's ever seen. "Maybe I liked you lookin'."

"Is that so?"

He nodded slightly, "Yeah, not such a bad thing. You're kinda the only one I want lookin' at me like that, anyway."

"You absolute cheesehead!" Your laughter was quiet, trying not to tip Duncan off to your antics.

"You know, they're not just for lookin'," he perked his pierced brow at you. "Feel free to touch whenever you want, too."

"Hm, always knew you were a slut."

He gasped dramatically. "Is that anyway to talk to your host? Especially after giving you refuge from the big, scary, confusing halls?" Your eyes rolled and reached out to pushed his forehead, making him rock back into the pillows and headboard - but he was quick to snatch your wrist as he fell. You were yanked across the slim space, pulled so you were directly resting onto his chest; forearms bracing against his pectorals. He grinned, caressing the back of your head, teasing, "'Ello, love."

"You're a fucking fiend."

"And you're so fucking beautiful."

"I'm already stayin' here, Fi, you don't have to lay it on so thick."

He hummed, "You know... If you were mine, you'd get this treatment all the time. I can't stop - you're just so easy to compliment."

Feeling bold, perhaps from being so close and him being nearly naked, you whispered, "Then maybe you should stop shuffling your feet, grow a pair, and ask me already."

He paused, the moment turning soft as you relax against his body; stretched out the length of him, but still remaining propped on his chest to look down at his sweet face.

"Was a bit afraid to, actually, love."

"Why?"

"Haven't felt like this with anyone," he admitted, "'s just so fuckin' easy with you. Organic, authentic, safe... I was afraid to ruin that, destroy the rapport and friendship we've established. I care about you so much, I just wanted you in my life - no matter what variation that was. Being just my friend, being my girl, just want you with me. Didn't want to jeopardize anything."

"Hm," you considered, nodding slowly, "I get that. Think I felt something similar..."

"So, what do we do?"

"I think we be adults about this," you offered. "If you just want to be friends, we'll stay friends, Fi, but we don't blur lines like we have been. And if you want to give this - us - a try, I think we could. 'Cause you're you, and I'm me, and if things don't work out, we can just go back. Right? Adults do that sorta thing, don't they?"

"Not entirely sure, don't feel like an adult most days," he breathed, petting his fingertips down your cheek. "But I know I want this, with you. I swear, since you came into my life, I've felt - " He paused, shaking his head with a growing smile, "Free? Elated? Light as air?"

"Mhm, I know the feeling," you repeated.

"We doin' this?"

"That's up to you."

"I think it's up to us, actually - "

"I mean, you've gotta ask, Fi, not just assume."

"If you reject me in my own house, in my own bed, doll, I'm gonna be fucking crushed!"

"Oh, my God, just ask me! You fucking knobhead!" You laughed, leaning your head on his chest. His other arm moved behind his head to keep it propped up, looking at you with so much adoration, it knotted your stomach. The hand that had been in your hair drifted down to keep a secure hold on your waist; fingers scratching in soothing motions.

"Wanna be my girl?"

"Hmm, I think you could phrase it better."

He grinned brightly, "Would you be my girlfriend?"

"Oh, that's a little too formal. Maybe try - "

"Oh, c'mere, you," he growled, swiftly using both arms to seize under your arms and literally drag you up his body. "C'mon, baby," he whispered, lips ghosting yours, "be my baby."

"Fuck, no, that's way too cheesy!"

"I thought you liked me cheesy?" He gaped, your hand petting his cheek now; shoulders straining to keep you upright, over him.

"Correction, I love you cheesy," you whispered, lowering your head to press a quick kiss to his lips. He hummed in relief, but you pulled back to promise, "I'd love to be your girl, Fi. Only took you the whole bloody school year, didn't it?"

"Hey, good things to those who wait, right?"

"Don't quote Professor Mercy at me when we're in bed with barely anything on, Jesus fucking Christ," you grumbled, unable to restrain your grin when he pulled you in for another kiss - but this time, stealing the breath right out of your lungs.

Maybe getting lost in Saltburn was more beneficial than you originally thought, and maybe Professor Mercy and ages of philosophy was right because this felt like the absolute best thing, and you'd wait a hundred lifetimes if it meant having Felix in your arms - like he was now, kissing you like it was his lifeline.

How extraordinarily warm, you felt, to be lost in this world, in this extraordinary home, and found, by Felix fucking Catton.

requesting rules and masterlist

Saltburn masterlist

#felix catton #felix catton x reader #felix catton x fem! reader #felix catton x you #felix catton x y/n #felix catton imagine #felix catton fanfic #felix catton fanfiction #felix catton fluff #felix catton saltburn #saltburn felix catton #saltburn felix #saltburn #saltburn 2023 #saltburn movie #saltburn fanfiction #saltburn imagine #fix it felix #felix catton request

814 notes · View notes

littlejuicebox · 4 months

Text

My Sun, My Moon

Pairing: Spawn Astarion x GN!Reader/Tav Summary/Setting: 6 months post BG3 / Part 2 to my other fic Astarion talks in his sleep. Rating/Warnings: PG-13 / In game spoilers / Alludes to sexual encounters / Mentions of past trauma etc / Pretty much all fluff / It’s so sweet it’s going to rot your teeth Word Count: 2.3K Notes: This is 5/5 Days of "Star-mas!"

*takes a bow* Happy Holidays! Hope you all enjoyed!

I'm also entering this into the #BG3HolidayFluffle23 challenge under the prompt "twinkling lights."

Click here to see my master list.

-----

After Astarion’s sleep-talking gave away his little secret, you’d spent nearly every waking moment anticipating the rogue’s proposal. You were horribly, terribly wrong every time, of course. You began to think that perhaps your original assumptions were right, and that an engagement would come much later on. Maybe he wasn’t quite ready. Maybe he was just planning and thinking about the future… the frustratingly distant future. He’d ask the question when he was ready, you reasoned; in his own time and on his own terms. You could respect that.

But then, on the eve of the Netherbrain Battle’s six month anniversary, you came home to a dinner that Astarion had cooked (almost) entirely himself. Candles were lit, table settings were placed, and your lover chose an expensive wine pairing for the meal. His steak was, of course, entirely raw while yours was seasoned and cooked to perfection. You were certain you had Shadowheart to thank for your half of the meal, but you’d complimented your lover and all his efforts, nonetheless. At the end of dinner, you were quite confident that this would be the moment you’d been waiting weeks for.

“I have something to say.” Astarion murmured, lithe fingers rubbing circles on the back of your hand as he clasped it in his own.

You practically felt your soul leave your body in that moment. Oh gods, you knew what your answer would be, you knew this was coming, and yet here it was, and you were still wholly unprepared. You barely fumbled out a, “Y-yes, my love? What is it?”

“I read your mail.” Astarion responded, his eyes flooding full of guilt at the confession. He expelled a small sigh, flicking his gaze up at the ceiling and then back down to you. “Darling, I know we have been discussing this for months, but I really don’t think we should go to the Underdark. You’re getting so many outstanding offers that require you to remain in the city. You’re the hero of Baldur’s Gate, for god’s sakes. I know you want me to be safe from the sun… but I can’t, in good conscience, do that to you and rip you away from so many wonderful opportunities.”

“O-oh…” Your chest deflates and you catch yourself frowning for just a moment. Astarion’s brow furrows as he incorrectly interprets the cause of your sudden mood shift to be the current conversation and not the crushing disappointment you were trying to shove aside. You quickly try to move into a more neutral expression, but the rogue is already jumping into another worried explanation.

“Darling... Please hear me. I love you more than anything, and I know you better than anyone. You will not be truly happy there, of that much I am absolutely certain. These offers you’re receiving will give you multiple avenues to build the life you want…. the life we want. Imagine the good you could do with that level of influence, my love! Let me help you; I can review contracts, negotiate deals… whatever you need to ensure your success. Do not throw away so much potential on my account. I simply couldn’t live with myself if you did.”

He was right, of course. The only thing you wanted almost as much as you wanted Astarion was to continue the good work you two had been doing for Baldur’s Gate.

You sigh and nod your head, squeezing his hand gently. “You’re right, my love. I suppose it would be silly for both of us to throw away so much opportunity.”

Astarion beamed at your response before leaning over the table to plant a kiss on your lips. You smiled at the rogue when he pulled away to look at you with adoring crimson eyes. Perhaps it hadn’t been the conversation you were hoping for, but it had been a good and much needed one, nonetheless.

-----

Tonight, you and Astarion decided to take a stroll around the city. You were following the vampire’s lead, ambling around the streets as he pointed out more than a few of his old haunts. He revealed some of the difficult moments in his past as you two meandered about… more than one of the tales nearly made you cry with an overwhelm of sympathy for your lover. But you held back, knowing the elf hated eyes full of pity almost as much as he’d hated Cazador.

You noted that Astarion seemed to look back on his experience with more acceptance now. You knew, of course, that there were likely an infinite number of stories he had not yet revealed to you and perhaps never would. But you were still happy to see a bit of lightness in him as he spoke his truth. He hadn’t appeared to have one of his episodes on the entire walk, and as you pondered this, you also realized his night terrors had only occurred a handful of times this month. Such an improvement to what had been an almost daily incidence when you two originally moved in together.

Before long, you and your love arrived at the docks, where just over six months ago you’d felt as if you’d been stabbed in the gut as you watched the rays of sunlight scorch the vampire until he was forced to run for cover. But now, you two stood there hand in hand, resting in a pocket of comfortable silence. Both of you were admiring the twinkling starlight, full moon, and dark, mysterious expanse of the sea.

“The stars were so much more beautiful in the wilds… don’t you think, my sweet?” Astarion asks, his eyes filled with wistfulness as he ponders the sky.

You utter a little hum of agreement as your mind flashes to the first night in camp, when you caught Astarion reclined on his bedroll, stargazing. You turned your head to look at the rogue and remind him of the memory, but found he disappeared from your line of sight. Your vision wanders down and there he is, bent on one knee.

Oh this had to be the moment. Just when you were about to shout yes before the rogue even had a moment to say anything, Astarion looks up and smiles, a small pouch of gold coins in his hand. “Look! I suppose it’s our lucky day, darling. Their loss is our gain, would— are you alright, Tav? You’ve got this strange look on your face.”

Gods, not again. You feel your face flush with embarrassment. In your excitement and overwhelm, you’d almost ruined everything and let Astarion know that you knew his little secret. You made the decision then and there that this would be the last time you anticipated his proposal; let it happen when it’s meant to happen. You were done playing the guessing game. You couldn’t ruin everything with your big fat mouth.

You nod your head slightly before turning to look back at the stars once more, taking a deep breath and hoping to settle yourself.

“Yes, my love. I suppose I’m just thrilled by the beauty of the stars and the full moon, tonight. And by your beauty, of course.”

The rogue stands up, tucking the small sachet in his pocket. He smiles and places a soft, loving peck on the apple of your cheek before wrapping his arm around your waist. The two of you look up at the stars once more, and you spend a few moments pointing out some constellations in the sky. Stargazing had been one of the first things you two bonded over in camp.

Astarion is watching you with devoted interest as you ramble on about the planets and the mythological creatures represented by the patterns in the stars. Finally, there is a small lapse in conversation, and you want to take the opportunity to kiss him, but when you turn, the vampire is once again out of your sight line.

When you look down this time, Astarion is looking up at you, holding a velvet box in shaking hands.

“Tav—" He manages to choke out, but then his eyes fill with tears, and he stops to blink them away, chuckling softly at himself. You immediately come to kneel in front of your love, hands pressed to either side of his face, silently urging him to continue.

The vampire inhales shakily, suddenly quite overwhelmed by the extreme vulnerability he knows he’s about to lay before you. But the softness of your hands on his face grounds him in the moment and he smiles, admiring the look of utter adoration in your eyes.

A couple of tears fall over the edge of his lash line, and you immediately swipe them away with your shaking thumb. Another chuckle escapes the silver-haired elf, and he shakes his head in disbelief.

“My love… I’ve rehearsed this for weeks. I’ve said it all out loud more than a thousand times, I’m sure. I’ve spent almost every opportunity in your absence practicing this. One time I even had Shadowheart pretend to be you while I rehearsed my grand speech. But now that we are here… I’ve nearly forgotten everything I wanted to say.”

You move forward to press a kiss to Astarion’s lips, your hands still shaking as you run your thumb over his cheekbone. “It’s okay, my Star. Please continue, when you’re ready… rehearsed or from the heart… I want to hear it all the same.”

Astarion nods just a fraction and inhales. The shaking hand that is not holding the ring box comes to lay atop your own hand resting on his face. Your love slowly, absently runs his thumb along the back of your palm as he gathers his thoughts. He stares into your eyes with so much love that you almost kiss him again but hold yourself back to allow him to continue.

Astarion exhales a shuddering breath and then continues in a reverent tone, as if he’s whispering a prayer, “My darling. I have lived long life. Much of it was a sad and hopeless one. When we were walking through the city, I pointed out several places where I’d encountered horrible things. Many of those things are still hard to talk about… some of it, I don’t know that I will ever be able to.”

You are crying now, from the overwhelming blend of sympathy for your little Star and palpable feeling of love in this beautiful moment. Tears begin coursing thin streams down your cheeks. Astarion wipes away the tears as they fall, though his lips start trembling from your display of emotion.

“B-but what I do know is that… in many of the places I pointed out, there are also memories of us. Of our friends. Of the time we spent together before saving the city and of the six months we’ve spent here after that. Little by little, we are taking places that only held horrible memories for me and turning them into places that hold feelings of hope and happiness.

I guess what I’m saying is that… these past six months have been the counterweight to two hundred years of misery. And I do not think I deserve you, but I cannot imagine my life without you. You are everywhere I go, everywhere I look, and every happy memory I hold in my heart. If you’ll have me… I would like to spend the rest of our lives, however long they may be, turning this city into a place of hope for us and for the people we hold dear.”

Astarion opens the box, and you gasp in true awe as he reveals possibly the most beautiful ring you’ve ever seen. At the center is a beautiful moonstone, emitting an ethereal glow that shines brilliantly in the darkness of the pier. The setting is gold, and an intricate sunburst pattern made in smaller gems surrounds the center stone.

“Standing on the dock that day, after that long battle… I had the thought that my life was ruined when I realized I could no longer stand in the sun. I thought I might never know true happiness again. But it turns out, that was the moment my new life with you began… and you’ve opened the door to more happiness than I could’ve ever imagined for myself.

Even if I never see the sun again, I have made my peace. I would make the choices I made to be here with you, on this dock, in this moment, again and again in every lifetime. You are my sun and my moon. And my darling, it would be my honor to be your Star for the rest of time. Tav… will you marry me?”

As soon as the question comes out of your lover’s lips, you instantly push forward to crash into Astarion, enveloping the elf in an emotional kiss. You both topple over from the sheer force of your ardor, and as you do, the vampire deftly snaps the ring box closed to protect it from spilling out onto the dock.

When you finally break away, panting heavily, both your faces are thoroughly flushed with excitement. The vampire looks up at you, scarlet eyes filled with absolute devotion. You giggle and press one more soft kiss to the rouge before taking your hand in his and pressing a kiss to his knuckle. “Yes, Astarion. Nothing in this life would make me happier than to share it with you.”

-----

Later that evening, the two of you are naked in bed after several rounds of vigorous celebration. You’re admiring your ring, which is still faintly glowing in the semi-darkness of your bedchambers. Astarion takes your hand and presses his lips to the ring with a small smile; his scarlet eyes closely examine the gem.

“I don’t know how it works… you would have to ask Gale. But the center stone glows when I think of you, you know.”

You blink, moving to touch the gemstone in the middle of the ring with curiosity. “But it hasn’t stopped glowing since we’ve been on the docks.”

“I haven’t stopped thinking about you since we’ve been on the docks.” Astarion replies simply, moving his hand to stroke your cheek as a gentle, good-natured laugh escapes his mouth, “Perhaps now you’ll have some insight into how often my thoughts revolve around you, my sweet.”

You feel your eyes welling with tears again. Damn this man and his beautiful heart… he truly never misses a detail when it comes to you. You move forward to pull his lips into another loving kiss, and when you break away this time, a thought crosses your mind.

“Astarion… did you really find that bag of coins on the dock?”

Your lover grins mischievously, his crimson eyes crinkling at the corners as he grabs your ring-clad hand and kisses it once more.

“No, my sweet. But I had to throw you off. Shadowheart told me about my mishap. I wanted to surprise you… but you know me far too well and you’ve never been easily fooled… and the sleepy confession didn’t help things at all. I just figured that you would never anticipate that I’d drop down on one knee twice in a row.”

Astarion knew you just as well as you knew him… and he had been right. He’d fooled you. You roll your eyes and chuckle as the rogue moves closer to you, nuzzling into the side of your neck where fresh fang marks throbbed.

“Now what do you say, darling? One more round of celebration before we go to bed?”

954 notes · View notes

verstappen-cult · 1 month

Text

# WHAT WOULD YOU DO IF I WENT TO TOUCH YOU NOW? | CL16

Or. . . 5 times you and Charles reach for the other and are oblivious about it + 1 time you aren’t.

Pairings: Charles Leclerc x Fem!Reader.

Content Warnings: Smut, fingering, unprotected sex. Just two oblivious in love. This one is long, so, prepare yourself, go grab a cup of coffee and a snack. I haven’t written smut in a very long time so don’t expect anything fancy and please be nice. Enjoy! xx

You and Charles can’t keep your hands to yourselves. Everyone can see that. Everyone but you two.

Charles is always reaching for you. He’s the first one leaning in to kiss your cheek as a greeting when you see each other, lingering for a couple of seconds with his cheek against yours, feeling your soft skin, with his hand squeezing your waist ever so slightly. When you are out with your friends he’s always trying to sit by your side, waiting for the right moment to put his arm in the back of your chair, fingers brushing your shoulder and keeping up with the conversation as if nothing is happening. Charles tries to be smooth about it, he really tries.

And you are always reaching for Charles. Well, as his Press Officer it’s your job to be by his side. When you need him to pay attention to you as you’re explaining the plan for the day, you make sure to grab him by his biceps, not letting him go until you are finished, and even then you take a couple of seconds to pull away. Every time you pass each other around the paddock, you always find a way to catch his arm, his shoulder or his waist. Even when he’s too busy and late to something and you don’t actually need him for anything, he makes time for you.

But it wasn’t always like that.

There was a time when you would not even dare to think about touching him, too shy and wanting to be professional. It was a little hard when you had to be by his side almost all day, every day. You would try to not look directly at him – impossible to do given that you needed to do your job – but then Charles started to make a few jokes to break the ice and make some conversation, started to ask about your day, he started to care. And, well, the rest is history.

New Year’s isn’t your favorite holiday, so, you spent it at home watching romcoms and went to sleep even before the clock hit midnight. Your friends weren’t happy but you promised to make it up to them. That is why you could not say no when your friends invited you to spend a few days with them on a Ski resort in Italy. Winter break was about to be over, after all. So, you showed up at the train station with all your bags and a little sleep deprived.

“I was about to call the police. I thought you were bailing on us.” Your friend says as a greeting, helping you with your bags. “You look like shit.”

“Oh, thank you, how sweet of you.” You roll your eyes but let her kiss your cheek. “I’ve been a little busy with the new season starting in a couple of weeks.”

“Let’s not talk about work,” You get on the train after her, looking for your seats and the rest of the group. “we actually told the same thing to Charles.”

You’re about to ask her what does she mean by that when you see the brown hair of Charles Leclerc. The next thing you see is his smile, dimples on display.

Since you started working with Charles as Media — then when you were promoted to PR Officer — there has not been a day you two haven't been together or communicating one way or another. So, anyone can say that becoming friends was bound to happen.

You make your way to him without a second thought.

"Hey, Charlie." Charles moves to the side, leaving the spot beside him free for you to sit. Which you immediately do.

"Are you excited?" He asks, turning his whole attention to you.

You have to look away, his green eyes looking at you so intensely that you feel he can see right through you into your soul.

"I've never skied before." You admit, cheeks flushed.

Charles' eyebrows shot up, his eyes flashing with enthusiasm. "Oh, you're gonna have so much fun."

The train starts moving, making you both look outside. You weren't planning on sitting with Charles, but you're not gonna stand up and leave him. Not that you actually want that.

You're about to ask him about the place you're going to spend the next days in when a yawn messes up everything.

Charles smiles softly at you, his hand patting your knee. He leaves it there for one, two, three, four seconds before removing it.

"It's not that far, really. But you could—" He clears his throat, eyes darting around. "I've been told my shoulder is the best spot to take a nap. It’s like very comfortable." Charles has a teasing but shy smile on his face, gaze finally landing on you.

You feel your face burning. You don't even need to look at yourself in a mirror to know how red your face is, probably the same color as his racing suit.

You look between his shoulder and his eyes, pretending to think about it when, in reality, you've made up your mind the second he stopped talking.

"I don't wa—"

Charles shakes his head, moving a little closer until your left side is touching his right one, not a breeze could pass between you.

You sigh, fidgeting with your fingers as you let your head rest on his shoulder. His scent hits you immediately, is calming, warm, earthy. And it reminds you of the cabin in the woods you and your family used to spend winters in when you were a kid. Surrounded by tall, green trees and a still lake.

The last thing you feel before falling asleep is Charles resting his head on top of yours.

"I can't do it. No, nope." You say, trying to move away, but the skis don't let you go that far.

"Yes, you can." Charles says from behind, startling you. You weren't expecting him to stay behind with you and your Ski instructor. "Just— let me." He tells the instructor, urging him to move out of the way.

“What are you doing?”

“I’m teaching you the basics,” He explains casually, as if you don’t have a certified instructor waiting a few meters away.

You smile when he positions himself by your side, too busy trying to make you stand correctly to notice how fondly you're looking at him.

"So, you need to bend your knees a little," You don't know if he notices, but his hands finding your waist to help you move just like he wants you to, send a shiver down your body. You can feel his warmth even through the layers of clothes. "Just like that, yes. You're doing great." Can he shut up? If he's going to praise you every time you do something right, you're not going to survive.

You look over your shoulder when you hear your friend's voices. You catch the exact moment they see you two and stop walking to turn around and go back to where they were before.

"Now, lean forward." Charles instructs you and you follow. Trying to regulate your breathing but with Charles so close to you is an impossible task. "Amazing!" You just leaned. It’s not that hard. "I need to— um... excuse me." He whispers, lowering one of his hand to your thigh and spreading your legs a little. When Charles looks up, his cheeks are tinted with a pretty pink color. You know you're blushing too.

Charles keeps on teaching you the basics. You even move a few meters with him by your side, his hands on your waist at all times.

"You're ready." The Monégasque says, smiling. "You are a fast learner, is she not?" From the first time in what feels like a lifetime, he asks the instructor, who is immediately moving closer.

"Of course," The man says, a polite smile directed at you. "Now we can slide down the mountain. And I'm going to be by your side at all times, so, you don’t need to worry."

You nod, excited to start skiing. Finally.

"You can go, Mr. Leclerc." The Italian man says. But Charles doesn’t move, he just keeps on looking at you, hands still on your waist. At this point you feel like they belong there. “Uh, Mr. Leclerc?” He insists. This time Charles looks at him, shaking his head to rearrange his thoughts. “If you want to go, I’ll take care of her.”

“Oh, yes! Sure, yeah.” Charles pulls away, leaving the ghost of his touch behind. “You’re gonna be alright?”

“I’m sure I’ll survive, Charlie.” He makes you chuckle. “I had a pretty good instructor and I have another one ready to catch me if I fall.”

It looks like Charles wants to say something else but chooses not to and, instead, looks at you one final time before sliding down the mountain.

“So, let’s go?” Your instructor positions himself by your side in the same spot Charles was before.

He doesn’t touch you like Charles did. And you don’t feel as safe as you felt with Charles by your side.

It’s Ferrari SF-24 Launch day. Winter's break is over and Charles is back in Maranello.

Charles hasn’t seen you since yesterday evening, after spotting you having dinner with members of the PR team and, without thinking so much about it, walked into the restaurant. Someone invited him and he didn't hesitate to grab a chair and sit by your side.

It was a very pleasant dinner. And Charles didn't let anyone pay for it.

You said your goodbyes after that and you made sure to remind him that he needed to be before 8:00 AM for the launch, and to have time to go over all the details of what Charles needed to do that day.

That’s most definitely the only explanation as to why Charles is getting out of his car at 7:15 in the morning. Not because he wants to see you, of course not. It’s just because he has a lot of things to do. It’s an important day, after all.

“Good morning.” Charles greets some people of the team that are passing by, rushing to get everything ready for the launch in less than an hour.

He’s in a good mood. He just knows it’s going to be a great day. Charles also knows it’s gonna be his year.

"You're early."

Charles turns around at the sound of your voice. He finds you checking the time on your watch, a teasing smile adorning those plump, pink lips of yours.

"You said before eight."

You laugh, walking down the hallway. "Yeah, but not so early." He follows you, trying to catch up with you. "However, I'm glad you decided to show up on time, we have a lot to do."

"I wanna go back to sleep." He complains, pouting like a child.

He makes you laugh, again. Charles thinks your laugh is his favorite sound in the world. Beside the sound of the SF-24.

Charles really likes to make you laugh.

"Wait, are you laughing at me?" He pretends to be offended, and you mimic the sound of his voice, bringing your hand to your chest.

"Me? Never!"

"You sure?" He stops walking, stopping right in front of you. "Because you know what I'm gonna do if you're actually laughing at me?"

You look at him suspiciously, fighting the smile that wants to make its way into your face.

Charles takes a step towards you, making you take a step back.

"Charles, whatever you're thinking—don't."

"What? I'm not doing anything!" He sounds innocent, even raising his hands in surrender. But he's still walking towards you, shortening the distance until he's so close you can count the freckles on his face.

Before you notice what's happening, he's tickling you.

It makes you throw all the things you had on your hands to the floor. You try to pull away and make him stop, but he just keeps going.

Your laugh fills the hallway you're currently in.

But you can't take it anymore, your stomach hurting for laughing so much. It’s also only a matter of time before someone comes to see what's happenig, so, you do the only thing your brain can conjure up to make him stop: hit him. Even if it's just a little push.

You raise your arms, ready to push him and defend yourself. But Charles reflexes are good and so fast, because before you can do anything, he's grabbing your wrists stopping you.

Your laugh dies in your throat.

Charles amusement is clear on his face, eyes shining with mirth.

"You are," You take a deep breath, trying to regulate your rapid breathing. "a very bad man."

He laughs, throwing his head backwards. "I'm just defending my honor, boss."

You shake your head, throwing daggers at him with your eyes. But Charles doesn’t react at all, he just caresses the inside of your wrists with his thumb.

“I promise to behave if you don’t laugh at me again.” He pouts, and your heart does a black flip inside your chest, skipping several beats.

Hesitantly, you reach out to rest a hand on his chest, giving him a little playful push. You’re not sure if you imagine the shiver you feel under your hand or if it really happens.

You chuckle, looking straight into his eyes. “I can’t make that promise.”

Charles lets go of your wrists against his will. He bends over to pick up the things you were carrying, but doesn’t give them back to you.

“If we end up getting scolded, I’m blaming you.”

Charles looks at you for what feels like hours, taking you in. He really thinks he could just watch you all day and he’d find a new freckle on your face, or a glint in your eyes he hadn’t seen before.

He leans in, so, so close, that feels your breath hitch. Charles thinks you’re gonna pull away for a second but you don’t make a move, you just keep looking at him with a indescribable expression.

“You can do whatever you want. I’ll take it.” He says in your ear, kissing your cheek before pulling away.

You stop breathing, all you can do is blink at him while your mind echoes his words.

“Shall we?”

Charles doesn’t wait for you, he resumes his walking anyway. It takes you a long time to snap out of it and follow him.

You can’t even remember what you are supposed to be doing today.

It’s day two of pre-season testing in Bahrain.

You’re in the middle of talking with a reporter about the questions he can ask Charles when you are interrupted by a hand being placed on your lower back. You immediately recognize the perfume.

"Hey, I was looking for you." Charles says, fingers caressing the spot between your shirt and your trousers. His calloused hand drawing patters on your lower back shouldn't make you feel as flustered as you feel. It's not the first time he does it, so why can't you just act normal?

"Hey, Charles." The reporter says, drawing the Monégasque's attention. "Can I ask you just a few questions about second day of testing?" He doesn't need to ask him, you already agreed about it.

Charles look at you, silently asking if it's okay.

"Just testing, okay?" You tell the reporter, who nods in understanding, already moving in front of Charles alongside his camera man.

Charles squeezes your waist before giving two pats on your lower back, so low that he's almost touching your ass. You eyes widen and you take a sharp intake of breath. You really try to play it cool. But you can tell Charles noticed your reaction when you see the smirk on his beautiful, stupid face.

The reporter begins with the first question, Charles' eyes only snapping to him when the man draws his attention.

You don't listen to one single question, which is, you know, an idiotic mistake because being alert of what a reporter's asking is basically your job. But you find yourself looking at Charles' lips more than one time during the six minutes the interview lasts.

You can't do nothing more than to stand there frozen in place.

The reporter thanks Charles, that much you hear, but you still can't seem to snap back to the present. What is Charles doing? He's being extra touchy lately, not that it bothers you, but you can't seem to focus in anything when he has a hand on any part of your body. Then, add that intense gaze that, apparently, has reserved for you only.

Charles is definitely going to be the death of you.

"You seem to have your head in the clouds." Charles' accented voice is what draws you back to reality.

"What?"

What he does next is definitely something you were not expecting, not now, not even in a million years.

Charles cups your chin with his right hand, thumb brushing your bottom lip. If you weren't hyper aware of every little movement, you wouldn't have felt it.

Your gaze drops to his lips and Charles has the nerve to stick his tongue out to lick his lips. They look so wet and inviting, all you need to do is move an inch closer and lean in to—

"See something you like?"

You feel your heartbeat in your ears, so loud you're pretty sure everyone in Bahrain can hear it. Charles waits for your answer as you panic, replaying his words over, and over again for minutes or hours — you don't even know.

You take Charles' hand and guide it away from your face. It takes all the willpower inside of you to let go of his hand and run away from him.

It wasn't a great start of the season. Everyone agrees on that. Even the boy stepping out of the Ferrari, who started the first race of the season in front row and had such a hard time trying to drive and secure a spot on the podium.

You are glad at least one Ferrari got there in the end. But you're not as happy as you'd be if Charles was the one standing there.

Charles takes his helmet and balaclava off, his messy hair standing in every direction while sweat runs down his face. You force yourself to look away.

He makes his way to you, given that you have his cap and rings. Charles really tries to smile at you, but it doesn’t reach his eyes.

You know how disappointed he is. With himself and his team. Mostly with himself.

“Just a few questions and then you’ll be on your way to the hotel, okay?” Charles just nods, busy putting all his rings and bracelets on.

Charles feels like shit. All he wants to do is go back to the hotel and sleep, he doesn't even want to know what happened or how they can fix it for next week. He wants to sleep.

"Hey," You stand a little closer, not thinking about anything but trying to make him talk, say anything to pull him out of his head. "It's just the first race of the season. There are a lot more to go." You rub the back of his neck, feeling the hairs there stand up.

Charles closes his eyes and lets his head fall forward. So, you take it as a good sing to keep rubbing and massaging.

Charles groans when you rub between his neck and shoulder, a very sensitive spot for him. He slowly opens his eyes again, looking at you from beneath his eyelashes.

"Come on, let's finish with this and get you to bed." You tentatively slide your hand over his shoulder and left side of his body, stopping at his waist to wrap an arm around it.

For the first time since the race finished, you see a smile forming on his lips. When you make eye contact, you know he has the perfect answer for it and, for the looks of it, it's definitely going to leave you flustered.

"If you wanted me in your bed that badly, all you had to do was ask."

It definitely makes you flush furiously, but you decide not to say anything. Mostly because you don't know what to say. Charles has been saying all these things for a very long time now and you don't know what it means, what he's playing at.

You let go of Charles when you reach the reporter, moving a little to the side to give them some space. The reporter knows what to ask but you still are on high alert, she's known for asking rude and out of place questions.

At first everything goes alright, so, you use that time to answer some messages and check out some emails. Until what the woman says next, makes your heart drop.

"You say you are capable, but it is your fault alm—" You don't let her finish, you interrupt the interview immediately by standing in front of Charles, like trying to shield him from the hurtful words of an unprofessional reporter.

"I'll make sure you receive a fine for that." It's all you say before blindly reaching for Charles.

You take his hand, dragging him out of there. You don't stop for nothing, not when a reporter asks for an interview, not when fans approach Charles to ask for pictures.

You keep walking and walking until you are in front of Charles' driver room. Your heart is hammering inside your chest, adrenaline coursing through your veins.

"I'm going to talk to—"

Charles grabs your shoulders, turning you around so you're looking at him. "Don't worry about it. You know I don't care about what they say."

His words make you angry.

"But I care!" You exclaim, immediately regretting it. The corners of Charles' mouth go downwards, and he steps closer. "She deserves that fine."

"I know she deserves it and she will get it," His hands trail over your arms, stopping at your wrists for a second before holding your hands. "but right now I need a hug."

You blink up at him.

"Would you hug me?"

He doesn't need to ask twice. You are moving before you actually process his words, probably because you've been thinking about hugging him since the first time he announced over the radio how the brakes where not responding to him.

Sliding your hand around his shoulders comes like a second nature to you, like is something you've done your whole life. You don't care that he's drenched in sweat, you hide your face in the crook of his neck anyways. And it's then that you learn how much you like the mixture of his scent with the sweat of racing for over two hours.

Charles wraps his arms around your waist, hugging you tightly against his body. It's then that he learns how well you fit against his body. Like you belong there. He knows you belong in his arms.

Charles finished third.

It's his first podium of the season.

You wait by the side but he doesn't see you. He has the most pretty and bright smile on his face as he removes the balaclava from his head. He has the most pretty and bright smile when he greets and congratulates Max and Checo.

And you really think that his smiles widens when he finally looks to the side, right where you are alongside his Ferrari team.

Charles makes his way to his team. Everyone is so happy cheering for him and congratulating him for his first podium. Everyone is happy.

But no one can't he as happy as you are.

Not when he sees you for the first time and rushes to hug you. It's quick, not enough, but they're pulling him away for the post-race interview. He needs to go up on that podium and make everyone proud.

You’re pretty sure you took like a dozen pictures of Charles on the podium. The ones where he's looking down at his team are your favorites because it looks like he's looking at you.

Post-race Charles is your favorite kind of Charles. But post-race Charles on the podium... that has to be what being in heaven feels like.

You laugh as you see him approaching hospitality with his trophy and champagne, and a broad smile spread over his face.

He's surrounded by people in a matter of seconds, as wells as Ollie by his side who can't seem to stop smiling. You're very proud of them.

When you see a few reporters approaching, you take into action.

The second Charles sees you, he's forgetting about anything and everyone around him. All he wants is to hug you and tell you how well and right it felt, but there are so many people that he has to settle with you grabbing the hem of his race suit to make him walk into hospitality, away from everyone.

"Go take a shower. Your team wants to celebrate, even Carlos wants to go." You smile up at him.

You don't know how to describe the expression on his face, so, you simply don't.

He snaps out of a his trance and makes his way to his driver room, but when you call his name he stops, turning around so fast that his neck starts to hurt.

"I'm so proud of you, Charlie."

Charles doesn't care if the trophy or the champagne bottle breaks, he just let them fall to the floor and runs to you, lifting you in his arms.

You giggle, feeling light as a feather. Like you're actually on cloud nine.

"Charlie!" Andrea's voice startles the both of you.

You are forced to pull away, but Charles leaves his hand on your waist, not letting you go completely.

"Come on, hurry up! We want to celebrate."

Andrea doesn't bat an eye, he doesn't care that he found you and Charles in a compromising position — kind of? well, it definitely is unprofessional — and that you still are very close to each other.

Charles groans and lets you go. You miss his touch already.

"Don't drink too much, okay?"

"As if I would let him." Andrea says, rolling his eyes.

"I'm a grown man!" Charles screams before shutting the door of his room.

You're watching a movie in bed — wrapped in a hotel bathrobe, freshly out of the shower, with a delicious lotion on your body and feeling like a pampered baby — when there's a knock on your door.

When you open the door, you find a disheveled and out of breathe Charles standing there, leaning against the opposite wall.

"Charles?" You ask, confused.

You look to both sides of the hallway but nobody else is there.

"What are you doing here? I thought you were out celebrating."

"I was—" He says, breathing heavily. "I was but then I just — I realized that I didn't want to be there."

"Okay?" You're not getting any of what he's saying, more confused than ever. "Are you drunk?"

"No! I barely drank anything. It was just a glass."

"Then," You shrug, looking behind you into the room. "I was watching a movie. Do you... want to come in?"

You still don't know why he knocked on your door, but you are not letting him out in the hallway.

Charles accepts the invitation. Just not in the way you would've thought.

It takes you a second to notice a pair soft lips against your own. But when you finally register that you are being kissed, Charles is pulling away from you, a shy smile on his face.

"What are you doing?" You ask, trying to find some coherent words in your fuzzy brain.

Charles' face falls, shoulder slumping slightly. "Oh, shit. I'm so sorry." He starts rambling, moving his hands in the air. "I'm sorry, I wasn't thinking properly. I thought—we had, I mean... You and—"

You couldn't take it anymore. You needed to take him out of his misery. That's definitely the only reason why you crashed your lips with his, pressing yourself against his body.

Charles moves quickly, walking you backwards into the room and closing the door with his foot.

You sigh into the kiss. A sigh that says finally.

"I think," You whisper against his lips, gasping for air. But Charles keeps on assaulting your lips. "we should talk ab—"

Charles groans pulling away, just enough to talk, lips brushing against yours with every breath. "We could. Or I could show you all the things I've been dreaming on doing to you, and we can talk later."

Your heart starts thumping so fast that your breath hitches in your throat. Charles takes your silence, and your body's reaction, as a yes.

This time, Charles takes his time. He cups your cheek with one hand, thumb caressing your cheekbone so softly — as if you’re made of glass and could break at any moment — and sliding lower, the pad of his finger brushing against your bottom lip.

"You're so beautiful." He whispers, gaze fixed on your plump lips.

“I’ve wanted to kiss you since…” You try try to think about it, to remember the very first time you thought about Charles being more than a friend. But it seems like it has always been that way.

“Forever.” Charles finishes for you.

Yes! Your insides scream.

“Would you let me show you?”

You frown, titling your hear to the side. “What?”

“How much I want you.”

There’s no need to verbally say yes, you find that is so much better if you show him. So, you kiss him.

Kissing Charles feels like walking in a soft, pillowy cloud, like everything is falling back into place, like things are how they always should have been.

There is warmth blossoming in your chest, fireworks exploding all around you as Charles leans in closer, lips exploring each other for the first time. You hold onto Charles' shoulder as if you're gonna fall and wake up, realize that this was just a dream. You don't want it to be a dream.

You let him guide you to the bed as his hands rest on your hips, wrinkling the bathrobe with his hands.

His lips are soft yet the kiss is demanding. Your lips part slightly, allowing Charles' tongue to slip inside and explore your mouth.

When the back of your knees hit the mattress, he pulls away. His pupils are dilated and his breathing erratic. "You don't—" He sighs, closing his eyes as if trying and ground himself. Charles takes your hand, silently asking for permission and, when you nod, guides it to his crotch, making you feel how hard he is. "You don't even know the effect you have on me."

Charles doesn't give you time to answer, not even to think about anything but how much you want to kiss him, and feel him, and be his.

"Can I unfasten this?" He asks, lips trailing kisses down your neck. You nod your approval, but Charles shakes his head. "I need words, baby."

"Yes," You don't recognize your own voice, it's feels strange to your ears. "Yes, you can."

Charles smiles, grazing his teeth along your neck, nipping and sucking along the way. You moan when he sucks right above your pulse point.

He takes his time unfastening your bathrobe, letting it fall slowly the floor. In seconds, you're completely bare in front of him. You should feel ashamed, a part of you actually feels embarrassed to be naked in front on a man — in front of Charles. But right now, desire and longing are coursing through your veins, clouding your mind. Your body screams for Charles.

Charles hands are soft on your skin, he splays them on your chest, feeling the thumping of your heart; it makes him smile.

"Would you lay down for me?" He purrs. And who are you to say no?

With shaky legs you climb onto the bed, lying down against the pillows. You can still hear the movie playing in the background, but you couldn't care less, not right now.

You can only watch as Charles removes every piece of clothing from his body. You knew Charles was well toned, you have seen Charles without a shirt, but seeing him here in your room, in a whole different context, makes you close your legs and lift your hips from the bed, searching for something, anything that only Charles can give you.

He rubs his hands up your legs, rubbing your thighs, as he climbs on top of you. His lips find yours one more time, your breath quivering.

"So pretty." Charles grunts, basking in your beauty. It lasts only a couple of seconds because you hide behind your hands. "No need to hide, baby." He pulls your hands away, sliding them over your collarbone, stopping on your chest and grabbing your breasts.

You arch your back against his touch, moans spilling from your mouth and filling the room.

"So good, so, so good." You blurt out, getting lost in the pleasure his hands are giving you, pinching and squeezing your breasts. One of his hands is replaced for his mouth, and you have to force yourself to open your eyes to see the view of Charles on top of you, making you come undone with his mouth.

His left hand leaves your breast as his mouth keeps the assault on your breast, he slowly lowers it to part your legs, making you squirm.

You've never been this wet before, and Charles notices the moment his fingers make contact with your cunt. Charles begins to rub circles on your throbbing clit, a desperate whine escaping your lips.

"Please," You beg, the only word leaving your lips over and over again.

Charles takes pity on you, knowing exactly what you need. So, he gives it to you; one of his fingers slips in, causing you to buck your hips involuntarily.

"So good for me." Charles croons, taking your lips with his own, swallowing all your moans. "You think you can take my cock, pretty girl?" He asks, slipping in another finger, pressing them upward. Your brain feels fuzzy, but in such a good way. You don't need to be asked twice, a yes leaves you lips immediately as you grind your hips desperately into his hand.

"I can, Charles—please I can take it." You moan, making Charles slow his movements.

Charles pulls out his fingers, and you whine desperately at the loss. "I got you, baby." But then a thought crosses his mind and he curses under his breath, closing his eyes for a second. "I don't—shit I don't have a condom."

You make grabby hands, making him lean forward so you can touch him. You cup his face with your hands, eyes finding his green ones. There's sweat on his forehead, his face flushed, and you think that post-race Charles and bedroom Charles are definitely battling to win first place.

"We're both clean, I know." You graze your fingers over his pecs, making him shudder. "Just—please, Charlie. I need you."

Who is he to say no to you?

The mere thought of fucking you bare is enough to send his mind reeling.

Charles aligns himself between your legs, the tip of his cock gathering your wetness and making you both moan at the feeling.

You dig your nails in his shoulder as he slowly starts to bury himself inside of you. Charles leans to kiss you, and is messy and wet, tongues and spit mix together as you tangle your fingers in his hair, pulling ever so slightly, which makes him moan against your mouth. So you do it again.

Charles kisses you with so much desperation, desire consuming you both. He bottoms out and you can't reciprocate the kiss anymore, not when he stars slamming his hips, setting an agonizing pace.

Charles fucks you into the bed wincing as he feels you bite his shoulder, a poor attempt of trying not to scream and let the whole hotel floor know what you are doing.

"How does it feel? Is that what you wanted, uh?" He groans, brushing a strand of hair out of your sweaty face.

"Yeah, feels so good, Char. So good." Your whole body is burning, you feel so deliciously filled.

Charles bends your legs, pushing them against your chest as he finds a new angle to keep on fucking you. He starts thrusting faster, holding onto your legs so hard you know there will be bruises tomorrow.

It's too much. You don't even have time nor words to warn him before you are coming, clenching around Charles' cock.

"So tight. So. Fucking. Tight." Charles whispers, pace faltering as he feels his own climax approaching. He keeps thrusting into you, chasing his own orgasm.

You are a moaning, whimpering mess, and you let Charles use you as much as he likes, you let it know that over and over again.

"That's it, baby. 'm gonna come now," Those are Charles' final words as he pulls out, pumping himself a few more times until he's painting your chest with his cum.

Charles plops down on the bed next to you, both panting and completely exhausted.

"Are you okay?" He asks in a hoarse voice.

You turn to look at him, fingers playing with his cum on your chest. The only thing you can do is nod, too exhausted to even to talk.

"What? Did I fuck your brains out?" Charles teases, leaning in to leave a chaste kiss to your lips. It's so innocent and soft, the total opposite of what you did just moments ago.

"Shut up!" You breathe out, giggling. There is still a buzzing in your ears and a tingling sensation in your cunt. But you feel good.

"Come on," He says, standing up and reaching for your hands.

You frown, standing on shaky legs. He teases you some more and you end up pushing him away.

"What are we doing?"

"Taking a bath," He explains, tugging at your hand. "We need to clean you up."

"I just took a shower, this is all your fault." You complain, his green eyes boring into you.

"You liked it." It's not a question.

He tugs at your hand again and you follow, you really would follow Charles to the end of the world. Charles can't hide the big, stupid smile on his face. "You said you were watching a movie, so, we are going to watch a movie."

#꒰꒰ 📁 ─ verstappen cult files ꒱꒱#charles leclerc x reader #f1 x reader #charles leclerc fluff #charles leclerc x you #f1 grid x reader

674 notes · View notes

satorisoup · 3 months

Text

ᰔ GLITTER GLUE ft. hajime iwaizumi

ʚ CW : “one sided” crush. confessions. cursing.

ʚ hq valentine’s series mlist ಇ

it’s valentine’s day, or rather, the most dreadful day of existence, if you were to say so yourself.

walking through the halls of school on a normal day was one thing, but now it seems that every corner you turn, you’re rather rudely reminded of your state of loneliness on the soul national holiday of relationships. bouquets of reds and whites, floral smells corroding your nostrils with every inhale, cute plushies holding little hearts, pretty cards with love written in sparkly pink gel pen. all gestures of admiration that are so sweet to any other person, but quite frankly, it’s just making you feel stupid for coming to school today.

you feel even stupider when you’re walking into class, eyes avoiding the gross kissing couples as you make your way to sit down, and you’re faced with exactly why you mourn valentines day so much.

hajime iwaizumi, the third year who sits one desk aside to you in class 5, who just so happens to be the person your heart decided to fall head over heels for. it was an unmistakable crush with the way your cheeks felt hot when he’d stretch in his seat, or the way your heart fluttered when he would make small talk when there was a particularly boring lesson. he’d even occasionally walk with you during lunch period in the midst of conversation or sharing a snack, before his friends would come and steal him away. he was sweet aside from looking intimidating, and it all the more so made you infatuated with him.

you watch him grumble outside of the doorway at one of his friends, a roll of his eyes before he’s striding into the classroom to take his proclaimed seat. you feel disappointed in yourself that you still haven’t been able to work up the courage to ask him out, too much of a coward to ever admit your interest in him. you take a quick glance at his hands, and what you see makes your heart drop even lower.

you catch a short glimpse of a pretty red valentine in his left hand before he’s quickly moving to neatly stuff it into the inner pocket of his jacket.

it looks like someone had beaten you to the chase, and it was only the first class of the day.

throughout the entire period, you notice the off behavior of your classmate as he sits in his seat. iwaizumi seems nervous almost, his leg softly bouncing up and down, and you also take into account that he hasn’t said a single word to you, or even looked at you this entire time. that usually would seem more normal on a regular class day, but today it was a free period, much to everyone’s liking. after dismissal, iwaizumi wasted no time to get up and out of the classroom before you could even ask him if he was alright.

classes today seemed to go by as if minutes were hours, and students had gotten even more enthusiastic as time went by as they all exchanged their thoughtful valentines to their partners. you think you’ve heard enough random “i love you’s” to last you 3 lifetimes in a singular day, but what you were seriously dreading was lunchtime. where everyone would walk around hand in hand through the courtyard, gifts, cards, flowers, big huge teddy bears to little tiny ones, kissing that should probably be saved for behind closed doors, and especially confessions. not wanting to be surrounded by the exact thing you were missing out on, you opted to stay inside for lunch.

the empty classroom you sit in is completely silent, the only sounds you hear coming from outside through the windows, voices of distant squeals and happy laughter. you sigh at your own demise when you decide to finally get up and wander around the halls. paper heart chains and pretty streamers litter the lockers and walls, and even some of your teachers had little decorations as their own way of getting into the spirit. it really was unfortunate that you weren’t able to celebrate today with who you wanted to so badly, as your fate lies in your own thoughts because you were too chicken to ever say it. and now, your crush was starting to act weird, which meant he had probably already accepted a confession, or maybe even confessed himself, to a person he was interested in. you wanted to be angry, you really did, but it wasn’t your place to be mad at him. he wasn’t ever yours to begin with.

as you stroll along and unwontedly admire the atmosphere around you, you hear the uncomfortable squeak of shoes against the wooden flooring, alerting you that you weren’t alone. when you look up from your feet to meet the eyes of the person who had interrupted your thoughts, you can physically feel your stomach sink to your feet.

iwaizumi stands at the end of the hallway, his hands behind his back with that same expression he had during class, even if it was barely noticeable. he looks at you before he straightens up.

“hey.” is all he mutters.

…

“hi.”

he takes a few steps forward to meet you where you had halted before and begins to speak.

“i was looking for you.” he voices.

“oh.. well you found me.”

you aren’t helping much with his attempt to cure the awkwardness around you two, but even so, he continues to talk nonetheless.

“why weren’t you outside for lunch?” he asks you.

“eh, didn’t wanna be around all that lovey dovey stuff. but, um.. why were you looking for me?”

you feel nervous when iwaizumi is silent, his hands now coming out from where they risided, holding that same red valentine from this morning.

“because i wanted to give you this.” he replies.

you notice the tinge of pink on his usual hardened face, looking down to where he held out the card to you.

you carefully grasp the messily accessorized card, studying it as you feel your heartbeat pick up to a faster pace. the red, heart shaped card stock proposed a simple question of ‘be my valentine?’

and as cheesy as it was, your lips pull into a wide grin when you look back at him, his hands tucked into his pockets while he waited for your answer.

“is this a confession, or am i reading the glitter glue wrong?”

“shut up, it was oikawa who dumped all of that shimmer shit on it…” he rumbles, recalling the short memory of his best friend tossing glitter onto his card while scolding him, “iwa, you seriously lack so much pizazz. girls love sparkles and glitter!”

you laugh at the thought of his friend taunting him over his card, and then you’re suddenly blushing at the concept of how iwaizumi had taken his time to make a special valentine, just for you.

“well, i accept your confession, iwa…”, “even if it’s twinkling in ‘shimmer shit’.”

it was iwaizumi’s turn to chuckle when he laces his arm around your shoulders, and he smiles as he walks with you.

“idiot.”

yes, valentines day was usually a dreadful day. but the surprises it holds? those aren’t dreadful at all.

370 notes · View notes

harrysfolklore · 4 months

Note

omg you need to do a blurb about them having a family walk with their newborn child in the pram!! i loved this!

a year ago i wrote this blurb and this is the continuation !! some dadrry for the soul this christmas. HAPPY HOLIDAYS I LOVE YOU ALL !!

MASTERLIST | MY PATREON

“Are you sure he’s warm enough?” Harry asked, adjusting your baby’s beanie resting on his little head.

“Relax, darling. He’s going to be okay.” Anne beat you to answer him, showing a tender smile that never failed to make both of you relax when you were stressed about something regarding your baby.

Two months ago, you and Harry became parents of a sweet, healthy and gorgeous boy, and your life has been full of love and light ever since.

Surely, there were a lot of stressful moments trying to balance out everything that came along with becoming parents, but you always had each other and your families to get through them.

Once again, Christmas was held at yours and Harry’s place, with your Styles family coming down to celebrate and mostly gush over your baby, everyone still over the moon about how much he looked like Harry.

You were getting ready to take a walk down the neighborhood, an being the overprotective dad that he is, Harry was worried about your baby not being warm enough for the cold weather outside.

“He has like four layers of clothing, lovie. It’s okay.” you said as you approached him and took the boy from his arms, kissing his forehead softly before placing him on the pram.

After Harry checked that his baby was comfortable and warm one final time, all of you headed outside, enjoying the greenery and homely atmosphere that made you fall in love with the neighborhood when you and Harry were looking for a house before getting married.

“Do you remember last year?” Harry broke the comfortable silence, the rest of his family was walking a few steps ahead so only you could hear him, “We were walking around here too, and you were thrilled because our first Christmas dinner was a success.”

“I remember,” you looked up at him, melting at the sight of him pushing the pram where your baby was comfortably laying, “It was our first Christmas as a married couple at our own house, I needed to make a good impression.”

“And you did, wifey,” he winked at you, “Remember that I also said that we would be parents by next Christmas?” he smiled widely at his own words, “And look at us now.”

“You did say that,” you mimicked his smile, “What? Were you already planning when to knock me up back then?”

He shrugged before grabbing your head from the side and placing a kiss on the crown of it.

“I always knew I wanted you to be the mother of my children, I mean have you seen him? He’s perfect just like you are.”

“Come on, he looks just like you,” you rolled your eyes with affection, “I’m actually kinda pissed about it, I carried him inside of me for nine months and he came out as a carbon copy of you.”

“Don’t worry, baby. When we have a girl she’s going to look exactly like you. Perfect little thing like her mama.”

“And I assume that’s in your plans for next year?”

“That’s in my plans for next year.”

taglist: @lightsoutstyles @willowpains @straightontilmornin n @sleutherclaw @gimsaysay @hazzassmirk @platinumbarbie143 @musicforcinemas @celesteblack08 @scntfrhs @eleanordaisy @lomlolivia @iceebabies @iloveshawn @be-with-me-so-happily @watermelonsugacry @rayisthehoe @drewrry @white-wolf-buckaroo

820 notes · View notes

goosita · 4 months

Note

Do you have any headcanons or blurb thoughts about if Secretary!reader got him a Christmas present? I feel like would be so cute. Happy Holidays if you celebrate!!❤️

oh i’m so soft ❄️

(this takes place between parts 3 and 4)

what do you get for a man who could buy anything he wants?

you’d been thinking all week about what to get for coriolanus for christmas. you’re sure that he’s used to expensive gifts and presents from all sorts of people. but you weren’t particularly wealthy, even for a capitol citizen.

you remembered once that he had a sweet tooth, and you smiled to yourself as you realized what you could do for him.

you spend all evening before your last day at the office for the break rolling out dough, covered in flour and sticky sugar. you used a little cutter to punch out the shape, baking them to a perfect golden brown and then icing them neatly with a piping bag. then, you packaged them up in a nice little red box with a big silver bow atop of it.

two dozen homemade sugar cookies in the shape of snowflakes, for coriolanus snow.

you hoped he would like them, biting your lip as you stepped into the building’s entry hall with a small smile.

“mr. snow?” you called softly, looking around. coriolanus stepped out of his office and smiled softly.

“yes, miss y/n?”

you fidgeted with the bow for a moment, grinning sheepishly. “merry christmas,” you said, handing the box to him.

coriolanus lifted his brow curiously, taking it from you and lifting the lid open. he blinked down at the neatly packaged cookies, his mouth open in a small little “o” shape.

“sweet snow for a sweet snow,” you joked, knowing it was a cheesy remark. coriolanus eyes lifted to you, tears just barely brimming at his lash line.

oh. had you upset him?

“coryo…?” you tried softly, taking a step forward towards him. you wondered if you’d overstepped somehow. if you’d read this little thing between you two wrong.

instead of opening his mouth to shout at you, perhaps tell you this was ridiculous, coriolanus set the box aside as gingerly as possible. then his arms were suddenly wrapped around you, pulling you into a tight hug. you were startled for a moment before completely melting into his embrace, your own arms fitting easily around his middle.

“thank you,” he breathed softly. “you don’t know what it means to me. that you took time to make these for me.”

of course you’d never know how deeply the gesture struck his heart. he’d never told a soul about his childhood and teenage years, not since his first year at the Capitol University. there was no way you could know that the sweet treats would take him back to a time when his stomach lurched painfully at all hours of the night, a time when he would have openly weeped at the gift of any sort of food.

it had been so long since someone had baked something just for him. ma plinth had passed some years ago, the last person to choose to spend her time making treats for coriolanus. it was more than the memory of the years he spent starving that moved him. to know that you had thought of him, had spent your own free time to do something kind like this for him, had his heart softening more than you’d ever realize.

“you’re welcome,” you whispered back, tentatively stroking his back with your fingertips. after a long moment, coriolanus seemed to gather himself and let you go with a small grin.

his hand gently held your chin for just a moment. “merry christmas, miss y/n.”

#v tiny blurb happy holidays !!#anon #politician!coryo x secretary!reader #coriolanus snow x reader #coriolanus snow #coriolanus snow x you #coriolanus snow angst #tom blyth #tom blyth x reader #tbosbas #coryo

410 notes · View notes

wannab-urs · 4 months

Text

Title: Something Sweet

Pairing: Javier Peña x f!reader

Summary: You’re new to the team in Colombia and all alone on your birthday. Your partner, Javier Peña, decides to do something sweet for you.

Tags: Set vaguely during season 1 before Javi gets extra angsty, canon compliant-ish, reader feeling lonely, sassy!reader, flirty!javi, alcohol (wine), brief mention of a gun bc I feel like a DEA agent wouldn’t just answer the door all willy nilly, kissing, javi asking for consent, but y’all did share a bottle of wine, kissing, fingering f receiving, marking, unprotected PinV, cuddling. I always write angsty Javi, but this is FLUFF, so sorry if it’s OOC, I’m slightly out of my element here.

WC: 2107

A/N: This fic is a birthday gift for @psychedelic-ink. Sil, you’re a wonderful friend and you do so much for the Pedro Pascal Fandom community on top of being an incredible writer. So, with some help from @pedrorascal with the beautiful gifs, I schemed up a little fic for you. I hope you love it! Happy Birthday and Happy Holidays AHHHH.

Moving to a new country two weeks before your birthday, which also happens to be Christmas Eve, is not ideal. You moved to Colombia from Miami after a promotion, earning a spot on the elite team working to catch Pablo Escobar.

The last two weeks have been a whirlwind, trying to catch up on all the facts of the case. You have to learn every sicario by sight and all of their names, aliases, and frequent hang outs. You have to learn about everything Escobar has done in Colombia, all the cartels and how they connect, it’s all extremely exhausting and time consuming.

Which is why you have no friends yet, unless you count your new partners Javier Peña and Steve Murphy. Which you don’t. You barely know them, and from what you’ve seen so far, Peña is an asshole. Steve might be okay, but you just haven’t had time to get to know him yet.

You take off your windbreaker and hang it on the back of your chair. It’s kind of ridiculous that you have to work on Christmas Eve, but there’s no rest for the wicked and therefore no rest for you either. You sit down and open the first file on your desk, immediately getting down to business without so much as a greeting for your partners.

A couple hours into the work day, a shadow darkens your desk. “What do you want, Peña?”

“God damn, hermosa. Touchy today? I brought you a coffee.” Peña sets the cup of lukewarm black slop on your desk and leans further into your space, peeking at the files you’re reading.

“Yes, actually. Did you need something or did you just come over here to bother me?”

“I just came over here to compliment your nails, actually,” he takes your hand in his, inspecting your nails, and then looks into your eyes. “I like the color. Suits you.”

You feel heat rise to your cheeks. Peña is cute. Gorgeous, really, but you don’t make a habit of flirting with your coworkers. “Thanks… They were my birthday gift to myself.” You tug your hand away from him and place it in your lap.

“It’s your birthday?” He asks, still leaning much too far into your personal space. You nod and look back down at the file.

“I have to get back to work now,” you almost whisper to him, all your bitter snark from earlier replaced by a sense of melancholy. There’s not a soul in this entire country who knows it’s your birthday today. Aside from Javier, now, you guess. Javier lingers for another moment before pushing off your desk and leaving you to your work.

You’re starting to pack up for the day when Peña comes up to your desk again, sitting on the corner.

“So what are your plans tonight?” he asks.

“Huh?” You don’t have any plans. A phone call from your friend in Miami and a bottle of Chilean wine maybe.

“Your plans? For your birthday?”

“Oh. I don’t have any. Don’t really know anyone yet so…” you trail off. You feel kind of pathetic, even though you know it’s completely reasonable to not have a group of friends yet.

“Me and Murphy could take you out?”

“Oh um–”

“Actually, Jav,” Steve calls out from his desk. “Me and Connie have plans tonight. Christmas Eve and all,” he gives you an apologetic look.

“It’s fine really. I’m gonna have a nice relaxing night in. Thanks though.” You put on the best smile you can and head for the door.

You hang up the phone after your short call with your friend. It’s expensive to call long distance, but she stayed on with you as long as she could. She told you all about her new boyfriend and that everyone had wished you a Happy Birthday and Happy Holidays. You’re grateful she didn’t ask about your job or your love life.

As you pop the cork on a bottle of wine, there’s a knock on your door. You stare at the door questioningly, as if it will tell you who’s there. Who on earth could be knocking at your door at 8pm on Christmas Eve?

You grab your gun and sneak over to the door, peeking through the peephole. Broad shoulders and a dark head of hair are all you can make out through the tiny lens. Javier? You set your gun on the side table and pull open the door.

“Peña? What are you doing here?”

He turns around and holds his hands out to you. “Brought you something.” He’s holding a birthday cake, clearly store bought, decorated with a generic “Feliz cumpleaños” scrawled on top. A bright smile lights up your face.

“Oh Javi, you didn’t have to!”

“I wanted to. You gonna invite me in for some cake?” He raises his eyebrows at you.

“Oh! Yeah sure. Come in!” You step to the side to let him through and close and lock the door behind him. “Sorry about the mess. I’m not fully unpacked yet.”

“I’ve been here for 7 years and I’m not fully unpacked. It’s fine.” Javi reassures you. He sets the cake down on your kitchen counter and starts rifling around for plates and silverware.

“I can do that,” you try to move him out of the way, but he’s having none of it.

“No, it’s your birthday. Let me. You pour yourself a glass of wine and go sit on the couch.”

“Fine… thank you.”

“You’re welcome.”

You grab a couple glasses and the bottle of wine and carry it to the living room with you. You’re kind of shocked he’s here. He’s always flirty in the office, but he’s like that with everyone. He’s not what you’d call friendly otherwise. Maybe he just feels bad for you.

Javier drops down onto the couch beside you holding two plates with hefty slices of chocolate cake. He hands you one of the plates and a fork. “Happy birthday. I’m not going to make you do the whole candle thing.”

“Thank you, Javier. This is really, really nice.” You feel like you might cry. It’s just cake, but you felt so alone, and it’s like he really saw you. He saw through whatever exterior shell you were wearing and decided to try to make your day better.

“Just Javi is fine. And it’s not a big deal, really. You deserve something sweet on your birthday,” he says looking down at the cake in his hands.

“It is to me. A big deal, I mean,” you say softly before taking a bite of the cake. It’s nothing special, just a plain chocolate cake, but it means so much to you.

You and Javier, Javi, chat about where you’re from and how you came to work for the DEA. You tell him about living in Miami, about the promotion that brought you here. You finish the bottle of wine and a couple more pieces of cake and the conversation doesn’t stop for a long time.

Late in the evening, you finish a story about your 6th birthday, one your aunt always told to the whole family every single year at your birthday dinner. He’s sitting close to you, his thigh pressed against yours despite there being plenty of room on the couch to sit without touching. It makes your heart flutter a little.

You don’t know if it’s the wine or what, but the little crush you have on him is getting pretty hard to ignore. Javi smirks at you, reaches up, and brushes his thumb over the corner of your lip.

“Got a little icing there, cariño,” he says, his voice lower and huskier than it has been all night. He brings the icing smeared thumb to his mouth and sucks it between his lips. Your eyes track the movement, pupils blowing wide. He really is pretty.

You feel yourself lean in toward him, almost unconsciously chasing that thumb to his mouth. He brings his hand up to your cheek and searches your eyes for a moment. He must see what he was looking for because he pulls you closer and presses his lips to yours.

His lips are soft, warm, gentle on yours. You grab his face in your hands, not wanting him to pull away yet. He slips his tongue along the seam of your lips and you part them, letting him in. You’re not sure who makes the move, but slowly, your back is lowered to the couch, Javi a comfortable weight on top of you. Your hands explore his broad shoulders, the muscles of his back, his trim waist, as he plunders your mouth with his tongue.

“Can I touch you?” He rasps against your lips.

“You already are,” you giggle. “Sorry. Yes, Javi.”

He huffs a laugh into your mouth and slips a hand into your lounge pants, fingers finding your dripping seam. “Wet for me already, hermosa?”

Your cheeks heat up in slight embarrassment, but you nod. You’re soaked just from kissing him. By the feel of him against your thigh, he’s not better off. He pushes two fingers inside you and presses his lips back to yours. You gasp into his mouth, hands fisting in the back of his shirt.

His fingers immediately find the spongy spot deep in your core. He curls them, dragging the pads of his fingers along your g-spot with every pump of them inside you. You cling tightly to him, burying your face in his shoulder.

“Come for me, baby.”

Your body responds to his command instantly, the tension in your belly releasing into waves of pleasure. Your cunt flutters around his fingers and you whine into his neck as he works you through it. You collapse back onto the couch, and he wastes no time dragging your pants off you.

You hear the clink of his belt opening, the sound of it hitting the floor. You sit up on your elbows to watch him as he strips off the rest of his clothes. You bite your lip, drinking in the sight of the gorgeous man before you.

He takes your hands in his and pulls you to your feet before pulling your tank top off you. “Shit, hermosa,” he whispers almost reverently as he takes one of your tits in his large hand, rolling the nipple between two fingers. “Gorgeous.”

He kisses you again, wrapping his strong arms around your body and pushing his chest flush with yours. “Bedroom, cariño?”

You walk him back to your room, barely separating your lips from his for the entire journey. You fall back on your bed and he follows, settling between your legs. His lips drag down your jaw line to your neck as he lines himself up with your entrance. Javi sucks a mark just below your collarbone as he slowly thrusts inside you.

You wrap your legs around his hips and pull him deeper into you, whining at the stretch. “Fuck, Javi.”

“Working on it, cariño,” he teases as he bottoms out inside you. He pushes himself up on his elbows and stares into your eyes as he pulls out and thrusts back in smoothly. Your mouth falls open, a little huff spilling out as he bottoms out again. He feels so fucking good inside you.

Javi sets a steady pace, thrusting into you hard and slow, eyes never leaving yours. When your eyes flutter shut and your back starts to arch in pleasure, he slips his arm under your back, pulling your hips higher on his thighs. The new angle is everything. You gasp out a moan every time his cock punches deep inside you.

Javi is everything in this moment. Your world narrowed to the feeling of his cock pounding into you at that same maddeningly slow, hard rhythm. You feel yourself tightening around him, feel a coil winding in your belly tighter and tighter.

Javi’s lips find yours again with a kiss that’s more a clash of teeth and tongues than anything as you come hard on his cock. Javi lets out a low groan into your mouth at the way you squeeze him. He thrusts into you a few more times, fucking you through your high, before he quickly pulls out and spills all over your belly.

He rests his forehead on yours for a moment, catching his breath. He kisses you deeply one more time before falling to the bed beside you. Javi pulls you into his arms, not paying any mind to the mess he made on your stomach. He holds you close, kissing the top of your head.

“Happy Birthday, cariño.”

450 notes · View notes

tteokdoroki · 1 year

Text

*ੈ🌩️‧₊˚— marry me + katsukl bakugou.

૮˶ᵕ ༝ᵕ˶ა synopsis — katsuki bakugou knows two things for certain. that he loves you and that he’s not afraid of anything… so why are these two simple words so hard to say?

⭑ warnings — please read + mdni ! characters aged up, fluff, high school sweethearts, proposals, pro hero!bakugou, fem!reader.

⭑ words — 2.2K.

⭑ notes — ok so this is an older commission that was clearly written for valentines day but i loved writing it and its super sweet and i think bakugou deserves some sweetness on his birthday so pls take it and enjoy!! ( thank you to @quaranweeb for letting me post!) - m.list ✩

love is weird.

love makes you do crazy things.

at least that’s what bakugou thinks, standing here, in the middle of a cotton candy pink shopping aisle— bombarded with obnoxious and in your face bouquets of roses and cards with love hearts or corny messages inside. there’s an entire day dedicated to the celebration of love— rolling around every year instead of being celebrated constantly throughout. he finds it weird.

but here he is, a little lost and confused in the middle of an aisle dedicated to valentine’s day looking for the perfect bunch of flowers, the perfect card, the perfect little gift for the most perfect person who has ever stepped foot into his life.

you.

you’re something, someone, worth indulging even on this silly holiday. you’ve given katsuki more love than he could ever ask for and more than he thinks he deserves. so, of course he’d want to spoil you with his big plans today, even if they make him nervous or cause a burning bright red blush to spread across his cheeks and neck just at the thought of them. big plans on the day that couples play charades and pretend that they’re happy for the sake of social media. pretend that they’re like you and him— eternal, well and truly in love.

katsuki bakugou used to hate valentine’s day , never believed in the commercialisation of it all— nor the kids in class squealing over who had gotten love notes or little chocolates in the shapes of hearts and cupid’s arrows. it almost embarrassed him, to have people he’d never met fawn over him and confess their affections towards the blonde. he didn’t deserve it, he had always thought.

loving someone isn’t supposed to fix you, it’s not a tool but instead something beautiful to be shared. yet somehow, on that valentine’s day all the way back in katsuki’s third year, you’d mended him. put a bandaid on his broken heart and healed him when you confessed your admiration for him— how strong he was, how brave he was despite all that he’d been through. your speech had been heartfelt, not superficial, meaningful in the way that made the blonde feel like his soul was being seen for the first time.

you’d taken his hands, albeit a little sweaty, under one of the winding trees outside of the U.A dorms and said. ‘i like you, katsuki, even if you don’t feel the same— or can’t say it back. i want you to know that i like you.’ there was no pressure in your voice or whiny insistence like the other’s who had been in your position…even back then katsuki had known you would love him for the rest of your life if given the chance. and he had known it too, murmuring his mutual feelings back to you under the grumbles that sat heavy on his tongue.

from there, he’d opened up a little more— accepted kisses from your sweet lips without flinching away again and craved the type of hugs where you buried your face into his chest because the scent of him comforted you. you embraced the cold together, passionate embers of your young romance keeping you warm for years to come, and now the chilly month of february has become his own solace. it holds his happiest memories, most of them pertaining to you.

but even after many years down the line with handfuls of valentines days underneath katsuki’s belt— he still stands in the middle of the cotton candy themed aisle, a diamond ring burning a hole in his pocket as he freaks out. he’s on the verge of tearing his hair out, deliberating on which flowers you might like the most for today. this day. the one that could determine the course of your lives together.

bakugou needed this day to be absolutely flawless. he’d ordered cheeses straight from italy and fruits from some of the highest rated farmers’ markets in japan just to make sure his girl got the best of the best. he’d even called up your mother from your hometown, asking her for the recipe to that strawberry shortcake you could never stop raving about. the cake that reminded you of summers back home before the chaos of high school and your pro hero career alongside the booming dynamight.

‘you’re good to her, katsuki,’ your mother had praised him over the telephone line just hours prior, the blonde could practically hear her faint smile. ‘please, keep her happy. look after my little girl.’

it’s only after he remembers those words, that katsuki decides on a beautiful arrangement of calla lilies, tulips and peonies— the symbols of romance, a declaration of his love to you.

nothing in this life is promised, but the blonde swears he’ll do his best to look after you just like your mother had asked.

for as long as you both shall live.

“suki,” you breathe, hand on your beating heart, looking up at your boyfriend fondly. “what’s all this?”

the minute you’d stepped in from work, dropped your duffel bag and locked the door behind you— scarred, rough yet tender hands had guided you deeper into your shared apartment only to arrive at a candlelit dinner set up in the centre of your tiny living room. bakugou rubs soothing circles into your bare arms, traces his infield and the shape of a heart around them before he speaks— his chest warm against your back while he towers over you.

“made dinner,” he rasps against the shell of your ear, kissing just under it with the ghost of his lips.

you turn your head then— away from the flickering candle wax flames and up into the heat of his vermillion eyes. a blistering shade of red like the colour of romance. “i can see that, suki,” you tease with a coy smile, as if you’ve already found him out. “you usually do. but this is…it’s just… it’s pretty. is there some sort of special occasion?” you’re right, he may have gone overboard.

your special selection of flowers sits at the centrepiece of the table draped in a linen tablecloth, pink wax candles and the finest silverware accent the set up and of course— your favourite slow song plays in the background, it’s mellow tune vibrating in the air around you as you sway with your boyfriend under the warm yellow light.

the way you stare up at him knowingly has the big bad hero in a shambles. you’ve always been able to get him like this— flustered and shy, shades of rose blossoming on his cheeks like that of a spring bloom. katsuki grumbles with faux annoyance, pinching your side harmlessly. “i just wanted to look after you, spoil you a little since you always take good care of me.”

your all-knowing expression shifts to one of adoration, the creases in your features softening as they’re masked with love for your blonde boyfriend. “oh, suki!” comes your swooning sigh before you stand on your tiptoes and do your best to reach up so you can plant a smooch on his cheek. bakugou grants you some mercy, bending down so you can reach him— long, curly lashes fluttering against his sun-spotted cheeks at your silent ‘i love you.’

he still can’t get over that, how much you love him— how you make sure to let him know that you do, in every single way possible. big or small.

“you wanna eat with me or not, princess?” he asks shyly, bristling with happiness when you kiss him again to show your agreement.

the explosive pro hero is quick to take the rest of your things and have you seated, falling to his knees to undo your work shoes as he places loving kisses from your ankle up to your hand— more specifically, your ring finger. bakugou knows that you’re staring at him while he dishes up your three course meals. you’ve told him before, you loved to watch him cook— it’s the way his arms move and his lips twist into a concentrated pout and his gaze stays honed in on every movement of his knife against the chopping board.

you’ve told him you admire him. you’ve praised him for every dinner he’s ever put in front of you— tonight is no different. over the orange-yellow hue of the candles, content lights up your pretty face with each mouthful you take of each course. your face twitches with excitement, doing a little jiggle of happiness when bakugou serves you up another plate— playing footsies with your boyfriend under the table all at the same time. when he sets the strawberry shortcake in front of you, you practically shiver with delight and latch onto katsuki’s hand to give it a squeeze. another silent i love you. even as you babble on about your day, your load of interns straight from U.A and how you’d had to clean up their messes.

and even though you vent between bites of food, bakugou having to wipe the corner of your mouth with a gentle swipe of his thumb— there’s nothing but a motherly smile on your lips and a caring tone laced into your voice while you talk about them. you love your job and your students; you take care of everyone around you and it only makes the blonde want to pamper you more— make sure you’re cared for too.

katsuki is confident in his career as dynamight, as a hero and as your boyfriend— but cowardness creeps into his veins and he forgets about the ring in his pocket all throughout dinner. it was meant to be a big surprise for the end of it all, but every time he looks at you, his heart drops to his stomach or beats so fast he thinks it might tear a hole through his chest. you end up washing the dishes together, fingertips brushing beneath the cherry-blossom scented and soap sudded water in the sink. a tingle runs down bakugou’s spine whenever your hands touch in the slightest, your delicate fingers passing him wet dishes while he dries them for you.

he can only hope for more sweet scenes of domesticity with you, he dreams of them throughout his day and when he lies next to you at night. katsuki bakugou is so in love with you it feels like he’s suffocating, like he’s desperate for air because all he wants to breathe in is you. all he wants to taste is you. all he needs is you.

you’re still chattering up a storm, washing the last of the cutlery when the blonde hero drops to his knees a second time, fumbling around in his pocket for the ring.

“marry me.” bakugou whispers, so quiet that you almost miss it underneath the volume of water sloshing about in the sink and your own ramblings.

“so anyways i was thinking about getting either you or izuku to help train up my interns some— wait what?”

swallowing thickly to level his strained and shaking voice, bakugou tries again. “marry me,” he repeats simply, forgetting his big speech and all of his words about forever, always and perfection. instead he holds out the engagement ring for you to see, smiling slightly as its glint matches the shimmer of fresh and surprised tears in your eyes. “i love you.”

you nearly drop the soapy glassware you’d been rinsing off, letting katsuki pry it away from your unstable grip before you cup your own face. “b-bakugou! k-katsuki! i mean suki,” comes your reply, each name clinging to the ridges of your throat as your emotions choke you up. “are you serious? w-what are you doing on the floor? get up! k-katsuki bakugou, you better not be playing with me! stand up!”

but bakugou does not budge, setting the wine glass on the floor beside him carefully before he takes your hand with the same amount of care and slides the diamond ring onto the correct finger. “marry me. aren’t ya hearin’ me right? i love you, there’s no one else who’s loved me like you— maybe that’s a selfish reason t’want to marry ya…” his lips, though slightly chapped, brush over your knuckles with each word as if to seal them as an eternal promise into your skin. “but i’m in love with you. always have been. always will be…a-and i wanna spend the rest of my life by your side. so marry me. i love you.”

there’s a moment, a quiet one, where it feels like you’re the only two people in existence before you launch yourself at your boyfriend— swatting at him until he falls back onto his butt and you're able to crawl between his legs. you grab at his cheeks, the metal band of your ring cool against his handsome face as you tug katsuki into a slow and passionate kiss, pouring every word you can’t think to say into it.

when you pull apart there’s soap suds lingering on his golden skin and a look of adoration etched across the slope of bakugou’s features. you take a moment to admire him, tears free flowing, blood rushing through your ears carrying happy hormones and whisper back—

“i’ll marry you, stupid. i love you, too.”

#bakugou x reader #bakugou x you #bakugou fluff #bakugo x reader #bakugo fluff #bakugo x you #bakugou imagines #bakugou fic #bakugo drabble #bakugou drabble #katsuki bakugou x reader #katsuki bakugou fluff #bnha x reader #bnha x you #bnha fluff #mha x reader #mha fluff #✧ ₊˚੭ — writing #tteokdoroki

1K notes · View notes

monstersmutpeddler · 1 year

Text

My Primal Mate (Iriduan Universe Love Stories Book 3)

By: Susan Trombley

Monster Scale

Level 04: Actual Monster (Physically)

Basically a lizardman with spikes.

My Overall Rating For The Book

“Not A Fan Personally, But Some Scenes Are Cool and I Know Other People Might Like It”

The incident that happened on Halloween in this book was fantastic, but I wasn’t a fan of everything else that was happening in this book. Still a fun time if you are a huge fan of this series/Susan Trombley’s work.

Overly Simplified Summary

An Akrellian with a dark past has settled on Earth as a last ditch effort for him not to go back to prison (or worse). He is very grumpy and wants to be left alone. Too bad his sunshine neighbor has the hots for him and keeps giving him cupcakes.

Keep reading for ‘This Book Has Everything’ and possible Trigger Warnings.

This Book Series Has Everything

[x] Touch them and I’ll kill you vibes

[x] Big buff love interest

[x] Soul mates or fated mates

[x] Miscommunication happens between leads at some point

Not those annoying kind, those: ‘Dude thinks she’s poisoning him, but she’s not, he’s just a dumbass.’

[x] Smut first plot second

[x] Straight

[x] One’s a sunshine and the other is a grump

[x] Main character gets chased in the woods by the love interest at some point

[x] Love interest has to fight hard to win the love interests heart

[x] Main character and love interest talk about their problems or tragic pasts and heal together

[x] The side character steals the show and makes you want their own book

[x] Holiday season vibes

Autumn/Fall and Halloween.

[x] Kinky af sex

We get Primal Play and Bondage/Spanking.

[x] Happy Ending Guaranteed

[x] Super scary/dangerous but very gentle and sweet with the one they love

Here’s a link/buy the book!

Trigger Warnings

[x] Loss of a loved one

Not on page, but mentioned.

#Super scary/dangerous but very gentle and sweet with the one they love #happy ending guaranteed #kinky af sex #Holiday season vibes #The side character steals the show a little and makes you want their own book #Main character gets chased in the woods by the love interest at some point #Main character and love interest talk about their problems or tragic pasts and heal together #Love interest has to fight hard to win the love interests heart #One’s a sunshine and the other is a grump #straight #Smut first plot second #Miscommunication happens between leads at some point #Soul mates or fated mates #Big buff love interest #Touch them and I’ll kill you vibes

5 notes · View notes

primordial-shade · 6 months

Text

Minotaur Partner Headcanons

Hellloooo I’m back, very sorry for being away but honestly I uploaded those previous two posts on a whim and came back from Spain to my tumblr having loads of notifications. SO thank you and here’s another segment of my Monster Lover Headcanons with the Minotaur! One a bit of a Greek fix lately so here we go.

Background

Minotaurs. Big beefy and sweet as all hell.

Headcanon for how they started? Easy, out Mr Original, Asterion the sweet poor lamb (BTW for those who maybe don’t know that was the Minotaur’s original name) did actual kill the sacrifices but tried to help them but they all fled in fear of him and died in the Labyrinth except one, a lovely lady I’m going to call Hemera.

She ended up staying in the labyrinth with Asterion, falling in love and determined to get them both out.

Theseus fucks along and when he’s about to kill her beloved she knocks him the fuck out, uses the yarn to get them all out, then fucks off with her hubby to the Mountains and lets everyone think Theseus killed him by leaving behind part of his broken horn.

They start a farm up in the mountains (With support from Asterions mother Persiphae and his sisters and eventually his brother in Law Dionysus who are happy Asterion is alive and happy cuz FUCK MINOS.)

Eventually they have several kids (Adorable as fuck) and a thriving mountain farm that the kiddos inherited.

As such Minotaurs are all related, and as such they often seek human partners.

Minotaurs like in mountainous regions, often protected by the God Dionysus, whose wife is all their many times great aunt who was forced to marry Theseus and tried to kill him and only gave him the yarn so her brother could kill him and use it to get out we love you Adriane <3

They grow lots of things but they are famous for wine 😉

White, red, rose, dessert. They make every type and its so fucking good.

Maybe you’re a wine coniseur, maybe you decided to go visit the farms on holiday, maybe you’re a local they trade with or a worker on the farm.

Needless to say when you catch a Minotaurs eye, you are staying for good.

SFW

Big sweethearts. Big beefy adorable sweethearts. Muscled as fuck and strong, with big soulful eyes and soft fur and hnghhghhg

I got fucking sidetracked

Anyway, Minotaur’s are very family orientated and all work on the huge collective farms in various roles. Don’t worry, wether or not you can contribute to the farm is moot, you’re their love and you don’t have to prove yourself in anyway and also if you’re human they kinda get overprotective and its like, ‘no please don’t help we don’t want you to get bruised or tired we love you just go and relax and let us do all the hard work baby <3.’

The hardest of workers, baby if you have a minotaur partner one of your main jobs is teaching them not to overwork themselves because they just wanna be good and make sure everything is good and they can’t stand doing nothing or not taking care of you.

If they could physically carry you around all the time, and this is more about your want to walk because they could carry you around all the time, you’re their Love, their sweet delicate loves. Please let them carry you around, it makes them so happy.

Their favourite thing in the world is taking care of you.

You’re hungry? They will literally go out to the farm and find the juiciest, best tasting produce and will hand feed it to you.

You have achy muscles? Oh poor baby, let them get their big strong hands and soothe all those aches and pains away.

If you do the same for them??

Ooooh, love, love love love.

They’re favourite thing? Honestly is when you lay down and they can curl up and put their head on your lap, letting you scratch their heads and between their horns.

Ooooh you scratch between their horns or behind their ears?? Very happy Minotaur, very happy wiggly minotaur. You’ll be lucky if you can get up for the next few hours, this is a pleasure that is rare and cherished.

They will also always show off. They can’t help it they just so want to impress you.

They’ll play fight with other Minotaurs in front of their loves, pick up heavy things, lift you up and carry you around.

They love making flower crowns too, and any crafts they take up they’ll make you something.

They love being praised. They absolutely love it, please praise them. Tell them how strong they are, how sweet they can be, how soft there fur is or how lovely their eyes are. They will melt, making soft little ‘moo’ sounds out of sheer pleasure.

They will also praise you constantly.

Your talents, your looks, even how you breathe. If it can be praised they will do it.

They also take a little longer to fall in Love, it’s a long term distrust thing, but once they do they fall *hard*.

And they will do anything in their power to prove this love to you. They love hard and they love deeply.

Bless their hearts but for a long time they’ll probably act like a Minotaur in love until one moment when they see you holding a baby Minotaur, or if the sun catches on your face the right way or even just sitting together and drinking something warm and suddenly it’s like a switch goes off in their heads.

“I love this person. ILOVE THIS PERSON!!” Nothing but joy and love and warmth.

Very physically affectionate. Hugs, cuddles, handholding, licking, kissing….

Yeah, their love language is love and praise. Which leads us into

NSFW:

So Minotaurs are big. In every way.

Not only are they generally built like strongmen. All muscles and covered in a nice thick layer of fat, male and female Minotaur are built this way.

Big muscles, big breasts and pecs, fat cocks and pussies. Everything is big and ready for you to feast upon.

One of the major things they like doing to you is lick.

Their tongues are thick and long, and they love to lick the taste of your salty sweat from your skin, to lick your salty semen and tangy arousal from your pussy or cock. They long to spread you open and lock you clean or flick their tongue over your most sensitive parts.

Sit on their face. Don’t give them any bullshit about being to heavy they are fucking Minotaurs and you will sit on their face so help them Dionysus.

Suffocation??? Who gives a shit about that, fucking sit on them and let them eat your ass/pussy out!!!!! If they die they die, and they will die with no regrets.

They are so soft with you though, loving touches and praising how good you taste and feel around and in them. How good you sound calling their names and begging for them. Such a darling thing, a sweet pretty love.

Yeah they are the kings/queens of accidental overstim. It’s always just one more orgasm, one more sweet baby, just give me one more. God they love you so much, please let them keep going, please just one more orgasm, just one more sweet orgasm.

Your legs will be shaking, you’ll be cockdumb/pussydrunk to the point you can barely speak but you keep going because you love them so much and gods it feels so fucking good.

You will be covered in fluids. Cum, semen, spit, all over the place. Covering your skin, filling your mouth, filling you. There will not be an area untouched by them and you love it.

#monster x reader #monster fucker #monster lover #monster x human #terat0philliac #terato

487 notes · View notes

just-jordie-things · 2 months

Text

valentines from jjk:

what valentines i think they would give you <3 happy love day everyone, don't forget to tell the people you care about that you care about them !! warnings: slightly suggestive in gojo + maki's parts

♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡

GOJO SATORU:

gojo is nothing short of extravagant. so expect a massive, expensive bouquet of your favorite flowers. if he's feeling particularly in the mood of love, he might try to serenade you (as if this huge bouquet he presented in front of everyone you know wasn't embarassing enough!! but it's the thought that counts, isn't it?) now just imagine how he's going to treat you when the two of you are alone

♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡

GETO SUGURU:

he's so romantic you're going to swoon and pass out- suguru drives you out to a nice field in the evening so you can watch the sunset, have a picnic complete with sweets and a bottle of wine, and then you can watch the stars come out and find as many constellations as you can. the possibility of you also watching the sunrise together is quite fair.

♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡

NANAMI KENTO:

nanami is a massive romantic but others might not see what you do because he can be quite private... but that doesn't mean that the love he feels for you doesn't carve itself deep into his bones and very soul. he's going to cook for you and have you over for an intimate v-day dinner. (he's been dying to propose to you for a while, and the ring in his pocket is damn near burning a hole. but it would be too cheesy to propose to you on valentines day... wouldn't it? we'll see if he lasts through dinner)

♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡

TAKUMA INO:

ino wants to go the traditional route of a beautiful bouquet for his beautiful girlfriend... but he knows you love a cute stuffy so he has to put a little twist on the classic gift to make sure his valentine stands out!! also... he asked you to be his valentine months in advance... sometime around november... but he has to make sure you're secured as his valentine!!

♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡

KAMO CHOSO:

he may be new to the concept of valentine's day, but when choso stumbles upon a pretty earring set, he remembers that yuji once told him girls never buy heart shaped jewelry for themselves- it has to be gifted to them. accepting this rule as law, choso doesn't hesitate to gift them to you so that you always have something from him to keep close... and maybe he likes the idea of other people knowing the romantic jewelry came from him, too.

♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡

FUSHIGURO MEGUMI:

megumi is treating you to a new set for valentine's day. he might act indifferent when you come home from your nail appointments any other day... but he does love your pretty manicure, and he loves how excited you get for them, too. so as long as you promise to get a little 'm' painted next to the heart, it's his treat sweetheart.

♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡

ITADORI YUJI:

yuji is a mixtape bf through and through. he will spend ages putting together all the most romantic songs from his playlists to curate the perfect vibe for you. he'd probably decorate the case with the most poetic lyrics from the songs, too. anytime you hang out together and you pop this cd in, this boy will be over the moon with joy that you enjoy listening to the songs he picked for you. (will he have to also buy you a cd player so you can actually listen to it? yes.)

♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡

KUGISAKI NOBARA:

i love this one so much- nobara is going to take the time to make you so many valentine kisses with every single lipstick she owns!! that way even when you're apart you'll be able to take a kiss with you. (you're never apart for too long though, don't worry, you never have to miss the real thing for long)

♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡

OKKOTSU YUUTA:

yuuta is proposing on valentine's day. it's HIS day and we all know it. hands down his favorite holiday, because he gets to spoil you and openly profess his love to you all day long without others laughing or dying from second hand embarassment? count him in. you're barely fifteen minutes into a romantic dinner date when you're receiving a heart shaped engagement ring. (expect a lovesick speech, this boy could go on for ages about his love for you, and he will if you don't stop him)

♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡

INUMAKI TOGE:

he's lucky you love him, truly. toge is gonna shower you with ridiculous, cheesy valentine memes as soon as midnight hits and it's officially february 14th. and he WILL make it everyone's problem too, with all sorts of these valentine memes littered about for you to find. of course he'll treat you to dinner and a romantic comedy to cuddle up to later... but for now he's the valentine's day menace.

♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡

ZEN'IN MAKI:

don't expect to go out and enjoy any valentine's festivities like a cute cafe date with a heart shaped donut. unless ofc you count going out of town to a cheesy but secluded little love hotel. maki's not letting you out of her sights until the little set she bought you is no longer recognizable... or wearable. she loves to have her pretty girl all dressed up for her to open like a present <3

♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡

322 notes · View notes

shadowlali · 4 months

Text

hot chocolate and snickerdoodle cookies

COD AU - Phillip Graves x bed and breakfast owner!fem!reader

[18+] summary: Phillip visits a bed and breakfast from his childhood. He meets the new owner, a sweet soul who helps him grieve. wc: 6.3k masterlist

[photos found on pinterest, all credit to original owners of the photos above]

warnings: NSFW, some proofreading, DUAL P.O.V., no use of Y/N nor details on reader’s appearance, talks about losing loved ones (grandparent, great aunt, great uncle), soft!graves, pet names, unprotected sex, breeding kink, size kink (if you squint) a/n: happy new year's! here's my take at a soft (but still commanding) graves <3 thank you all for the support! when i started this blog in august i never though i'd have people read my stuff 😭 may you all have an amazing and blessed new year! also don't read too much into the layout/logistics of the bed and breakfast i've only been to like two or three lol

Phillip’s. P.O.V.

Phillip sits in his idling car, staring at the dreamy, two-story bed and breakfast. It’s covered in a light sheet of snow with a few cars parked in the front. Through the big, front window, he can see the orange flickers of light emanating from the fireplace.

It’s been years since he’s last visited. Despite the welcoming atmosphere of the town and of the house, his heart hammers in his chest. He recognizes the same small grocery store, same tiny post office, same park… but it seems different?

And it is, at least to him. His grandmother, the one who introduced him to this place decades ago, is long gone. It didn’t matter that his parents would abandon him months on end, he had his grandmother and that was more than enough.

They stumbled on this town decades ago, when he was just a boy. Eventually it became a tradition. Every year his grandmother would bring him and every year they would stay in this bed and breakfast. He remembers the hot chocolate and snickerdoodle cookies and the soft beds. He remembers the older couple who owned the place, how kind and willing they were to include Phillip and his grandma in their holiday traditions.

Then it stopped. He joined the military, was shipped all over the world and only saw his grandma a few times a year. She never seemed to mind, happy to see her grandson all grown up and doing something he loved. The time spent with her became less and less. Lines and white hair, a symbol of a life well lived, appeared on her. It only made her more beautiful to him.

But time eventually caught up to her. Her hands shook when she reached for a cup of tea and it took her longer to walk up the stairs. Phillip didn’t want to stay away anymore. He had already thought of creating Shadow Company to be his own boss, his own commander. And his grandmother’s worsening condition only made him work faster to achieve that dream.

He didn’t see her too often, but she stayed in his home, under the care of a specialized team. Once Shadow Company was built, they had only three holidays together. Three holidays spent in the cute mountain town in the same two-story bed and breakfast. On the last Christmas before her passing, he held in his tears. She was too frail to open her presents. It was difficult for her to walk without assistance and her memory had long begun to fail her.

But they sat in front of the fireplace, surrounded by the chatter of the other guests and family of the owners. He held her softer hand in his and basked in the warmth of the flames and the love of his grandma. She turned slightly in her chair, covered under a mountain of blankets, and stared at his side profile.

Phillip… my baby boy, she had said softly. He turned to look at her, feeling her soft hand cup his cheek. Yeah, gram? I’m right here. A few months after that, once they were back in Texas, she passed peacefully in her sleep. There were hundreds of cards and flowers sent by everyone who knew her. There were people he didn’t even recognize at her funeral. But it was a testament to how loved she was by those around her.

The couple from the bed and breakfast visited and expressed how hurt they were by her passing. Their bodies were also frail and soon after they would pass too. He cried and cried and cried until there were no more tears. A strong, assertive soldier reduced to tears. Phillip walked around his grandmother’s room at his home and wrapped himself in the blankets she would knit. Time passed and he threw himself into his work, not thinking too much about her or the memories.

Even now, many years later, it still pains his heart when he thinks of her. He doesn’t want to be here. He doesn’t want to see the park and the swings where she’d push him until he felt like he was flying. He doesn’t want to see the snow and think about the snow angels or the snowball fights they used to have. It hurts. It hurts so much to relive those memories.

But he can’t live like this anymore. He wants to remember her and everything she did for him. Phillip wants to grieve properly even if he knows it’ll split his heart wide open. She deserves to be talked about and her memory deserves to be cherished.

Before his surge of confidence fades, Philip turns off the SUV and grabs his luggage from the passenger seat. He jogs across the street, wanting to escape the cold. He reaches the porch, seeing Christmas lights wrap around the front posts. It's past Christmas now, only a few days away from New Years, but he can see the giant green tree with shiny ornaments through the window.

Before he can knock on the door, it swings open. You stand there, encased in a knit sweater and leggings, looking way too sweet and soft for your own good. Phillip is left speechless for a moment, blinded by the smile on your pretty face.

“Hi! Welcome, come on in!” you say, motioning for him to enter the foyer.

Phillip clears his throat and offers you a smile. “Thank you, sweetheart.”

You close the door behind him, passing close enough for him to smell your perfume. Without thinking he breathes in deep, filling his lungs. He follows you to the front desk, wondering if you're related to the previous owners. As he gives his name and hands over his license he discreetly looks at your name tag. Phillip rolls your name quietly over his tongue, looking away once you take your eyes off of the computer.

“You’ve been here before! Your name is in our system,” you exclaim.

His heart pinches uncomfortably and before he can formulate a response you reach over on the desk and grab a picture frame.

“I thought you looked like the boy in this photo… this is you, right? With your grandma and my great aunt and uncle!”

He takes the picture frame from you, brushing against your soft hands. His breath catches in his throat and tears prick his eyes. It is him with his grandmother alongside what he now knows to be your great aunt and great uncle. He’s a young teen in this photo, at this point already taller than his grandma.

“They passed when I was young but they always talked about you and her. You guys were like a second family to them,” your soft voice breaks through his thoughts.

“They were–they were always so welcoming to us,” he whispers,” I have some great memories from this place.”

He hands back the picture and you place it once more on the desk. You hand him a key and walk around the desk towards the hallway.

“Well, Mr. Graves, I hope you’re able to create some new ones.”

“Phillip is fine, sweetheart. No need for formalities.”

You hum, nodding your head slightly. You ask if he needs help with his luggage and he immediately says no, motioning you to continue walking. He follows you, taking in his surroundings. Not much has changed since he was last here. The same dark wood floors and furniture adorn the place. He sees photos of other guests on small tables and on the walls of the hallway.

He breathes in the familiar scent of the home and lets the warmth wash over him.

“Is it just you here? Do other family members help run the place?” Phillip asks as you lead him up the stairs.

“It used to be my parents, but they left it to me. They said I’m more passionate about this house.”

“I remember how packed it got when I was younger,” Phillip states,” we always made sure to make our reservations well in advance.”

“It was like that a few days ago during Christmas,” you agree,” my parents came to help. I like it though, it’s always fun meeting new people.”

You stop at the end of the hallway and open the door to the large bedroom. A canopy bed with white curtains and fluffy pillows is placed in the center of the room. There’s a large dresser and nightstand in the same dark wood style as the furniture throughout the house. It’s exactly as Phillip remembers.

“I put towels in the bathroom for you and some extra blankets in the storage bench,” you say as you motion towards the ottoman at the end of the bed. “I’m down the hall if you need anything else.”

“Thank you, doll. I think I’ll be just fine.”

“Do you want any coffee or tea? I had just taken out the cookies from the oven before I saw you through our camera.”

Phillip laughs, now understanding why you opened the door before he knocked. “No thank you, I think I’m just going to get ready for bed.”

“Alright Mr. Gra–Phillip,” you remind yourself,” Have a good night!”

- - -

Phillip walks down the stairs, seeing cars leave the driveway from the window.

“Bye, thank you for coming! Have a safe trip back home,” you call out through the open front door.

“Mornin’,” he calls out.

You close the door before turning towards him. “Goodmorning, Phillip! How’d you sleep? Do you want some coffee?”

“Good, great actually. Those beds, wow, the softest I’ve ever slept on.”

You laugh in agreement. “Yeah, they did good in choosing that brand of mattresses. Coffee? Or are you going out?”

“Coffee would be great, doll.”

He follows you to the dining room where he sees an assortment of pastries, eggs, coffee, juice, and other breakfast items on the table.

“Any plans for today?” you ask while serving him a cup of coffee.

He takes a moment to think about your question. He really isn’t sure where to begin in this town. There’s a few places his grandmother would take him, but Phillip wonders how difficult and uncomfortable it will be for him to revisit those places without her. It’s difficult enough to be in this place with the memories hitting him at every corner.

“Uh, I’m not quite sure. Maybe take a walk around town.”

You fiddle with your sweater as an anxious look crosses your face. “I found something this morning in the attic. Is it okay for me to show it to you?”

Phillip’s eyebrows scrunch in confusion and he nods. You walk into the kitchen and a minute later walk out with a leather book in your hands. You pull out the chair next to Phillip, sit and open the book to reveal pages of photos.

“It’s their photo album,” you explain,” from all of their guests. I went to look for some light bulbs and accidently knocked over a box. This was inside of it.”

You flip some pages and land on photos of a younger Phillip and his grandmother. Phillip gently grabs the photo album and brings it closer to him. There’s pictures from the very first time they visited to pictures of him and his grandma ice skating at the park. Each flip of the page shows Phillip at different stages of his life and all around town or in the house.

“I can tell by your face that this is as much of a surprise to you as it was to me.”

Phillip nods,” I had no idea there were photos. Why do you think they kept these?”

“I’m not quite sure, they never mentioned anything when I was younger. They only showed me the picture that’s on the front desk. Maybe they forgot about it?”

Phillip nods absentmindedly, flipping through the many pages. Tears prick his eyes and he gets a wave of nostalgia and grief. Before a teardrop falls he quickly slams the book shut and pushes it back to you.

“Thank you, uh, for showing me this,” Phillip murmurs as he stands up.

“Oh! I’m sorry, Phillip,” you stress,” the last thing I wanted to do was make you sad. I just wanted to show you these because I know it makes me feel better when I look back through photos.”

Phillip stops in his tracks with your words.

“It makes you feel better?”

You nod quickly, standing up from your own chair and walking slowly towards Phillip. “I mean, of course it hurts to think that my loved ones aren’t here anymore. But, I have pictures and I have memories. I talk about them and I visit places we went together and I make new memories.”

Phillip rubs a hand on his forehead, taking in your words. He wonders if this is where he should begin. Seeing those photos made Phillip feel emotions he hadn’t experienced in years. But that’s why he’s here, to honor her and no longer repress his memories.

“It’s–it’s hard for me to think about my grandma. I don’t know how to–to get through this sadness. It’s been so long but it still feels as if it just happened.”

“Is that why you’re here? To process her passing?”

“Yes,” Phillip whispers,” it’s funny, actually. I’m a soldier who’s used to running onto battlefields and dangerous territories without a second thought. But this,” he points to the photo album,” scares me… I’m not sure why I’m telling you all of this, but I feel like I can trust you.”

You beam at him, showing him the pretty smile that’s captivated him from the moment he first laid eyes on you. “Of course you can trust me Phillip. And I know we just met but you don’t have to be scared. I can help you if you’d like?”

“How?”

“Well,” you say while walking back to the photo album and flipping to the first page with his photos,” there’s a ton of activities you can do according to these pictures. Like ice skating at the park.”

Phillip scratches his head, not quite up to do things alone. “I don’t know if I want to go by myself–”

“Would you like me to go with you?”

Phillip’s heart skips a beat at your suggestion. “You’d do that, sweetheart? Don’t you have guests here?”

“No! You’re the last one until after New Year’s. I’d love to help you Phillip, but I also don’t want to interfere in any plans or bother you–”

“No, no. That would actually be–be really helpful.”

Phillip smiles back, entranced by the twinking in your eyes.

“Anywhere in particular you’d like to go first?”

The walk to town is straight out of a movie with snow covering the many trees and rustic-like houses. Despite the cold, the town square is filled with people and laughter. Vendors are set up around the park, selling hot chocolate and different foods.

“I’m not sure, what do ya’ think?” he asks.

“How about the ice rink?”

“Only to watch, not actually skate–”

“What?” you exclaim. “No way. We’re getting on the ice!”

You link your hand in his and begin pulling him towards the open ice rink. He drags his feet, suddenly nervous at the idea of balancing on thin blades. He feels like an awkward teenager again, hoping he doesn’t make a fool of himself in front of the pretty girl he likes.

“Come on, Phillip! You can’t hug the wall the entire time,” you call out.

“I’m not huggin’ the damn— Jesus, fine.” Phillip responds, pushing off the railing and slowly skating towards you.

You start skating backwards, moving farther away for Phillip to follow you. He’s lucky, the rink is mostly empty apart from a few others.

“Where are you goin’ doll? How about we stay in one place–”

“No, silly,” you tease him,” you need to re-learn how to skate. Plus, we need to recreate the picture.”

“Recreate the picture?”

You stop at his question and reach into your jacket pocket. Finally, he thinks as he approaches you. You pull out a stack of photos, the ones from inside of the photo album.

“I brought them so we know exactly what to do. The tree is still up,” you say as you point to the giant christmas tree,” if you stand here I can take a picture and you’ll have a new one. I was thinking you could recreate some of the photos.”

It’s a good idea, a sweet one at that. Even if his legs are slightly shaking from being unbalanced and he knows he’ll eventually make a fool out of himself on the ice, it’s a step in the right direction of the grieving process.

You skate around him and hold up your phone to take a photo. “Ready?”

Phillip stands awkwardly, unsure of what to do. You call out a simple smile but it takes him a moment to do so. He looks around, watching children stumble on the ice and parents or grandparents there to pick them up and push them to try again. He turns to look at people walking through the park, couples hand in hand or children playing in the snow. He feels the wind ruffle his hair slightly and brush across his face.

So he smiles. A genuine smile. One that doesn’t feel forced or sad. He hears the shutter sounds come from your phone and you skate towards him after a few clicks.

“Here, I think these look perfect,” you say as you show him the screen.

“Okay, now it's your turn–”

“No, Phillip. I don’t need any pictures–”

He makes a tsk sounds and grabs your hand before you're able to skate away. “We’ll take one together, that’s my compromise to your idea.”

You roll your eyes playful at him but nonetheless hand him your phone. His pulse flutters on his neck as you lean in closer while he snaps a photo of the both of you. Phillip hands you the phone and you playfully bump into him as you skate away.

“Okay,” he warns,” we’re done here–”

“Show me what you got, Commander.”

After the third time he slips and lands on his butt, you finally decide to leave for the next task. His ego is bruised only a little, the giggles and soft hands you offered every time he fell down were worth the minor embarrassment.

“The hot chocolate your great aunt made was amazing, but I remember liking this one too,” Phillip says once inside the little bakery.

“Her secret was maple syrup and dark chocolate. I haven’t been able to recreate it exactly like hers but I’m still trying.”

The both of you reach the front counter and you order a hot chocolate and sugar donut while Phillip orders a coffee and croissant.

“Coffee? No, Phillip! You need to order a hot chocolate–he’ll get a hot chocolate instead,” you tell the employee.

“Wait–” he starts, but by then the employee has left to prepare the order. “You do realize that I’m a grown man?”

“And? Where’s your childlike wonder? Where’s your inner child, Phillip?” you tease.

You try to pay using your card but Phillip pushes your hand away. “What’re you doin’?”

“It’s my treat, Phil–”

“Don’t be silly, doll,” he gently chastises.

You find a table and sit down, Phillip sliding into the booth right next to you. You cheers his cup and Phillip watches you take a sip. A jolt of arousal hits him the moment you moan at the taste of the drink. Phillip looks away quickly once you make eye contact, feeling himself overheat. He’s usually not so shy around women, quite the opposite actually.

But the emotions he’s experiencing with you are… new. And it’s not because you’re helping him and he’s somehow replacing his grandmother’s memory with you, it’s because you’re sweet. You don’t even know him, yet since the minute you spoke to him you were genuine in your kindness. Here you are now, helping him with your encouraging words and pretty face.

You give him a shy smile and place a hand on his cheek, turning his face towards his own cup. “Try it, Phillip!”

He takes a sip, immediately transported back to his childhood. “Yup, this is just how I remember.”

He hears the shutter of a camera and turns to see you taking pictures of him. He takes the phone from your hands and has you pose to take some of you then of you two together.

In just a few short hours, you’re able to help him recreate most of the photos. By late afternoon, snow begins to fall, landing on your cheeks and eyelashes. The both of you are standing outside the bed and breakfast, admiring a snowman left by one of the guests. He’s enthralled, listening to the rasp of your voice while you recount a story of a snowman you built when you were younger.

You tilt your head back, watching the snowflakes drift down slowly from the sky. He watches them land on your lips and soft skin, suddenly jealous that the snowflakes get to kiss you first.

“Anyways, hungry? Phillip?” you ask, a confused look on your face at his silence.

“Right–yeah, I mean yes,” he stammers out, feeling his face heat.

“How about I cook us something–”

“Let me, as a thank you for today. Going out of your way to help me alleviate the pain, let me at least repay the favor.” Phillip interrupts.

“You don’t have to repay–”

“Show me to the kitchen, sweetheart.”

The busy bee that you are, he soon realizes, you do show him the kitchen but immediately begin cleaning the now empty rooms. He prepares a dish he knows too well, roasted chicken and an assortment of vegetables he finds in the fridge. Even with the soft music playing in the living room and the crackle of the fireplace, he can hear you gently humming from the hallway while you sweep.

He sets another pot of coffee and hears a knock on the front door. You jog to the door and open it, saying hello and thank you so much before shutting the door and walking away. Phillip finishes cooking and washing the dishes he used about an hour later and calls you over to the dining room.

“Who knew the Commander could cook?” you praise him.

He smiles at your comment, a slight flush appearing on his neck. “I’m a real jack-of-all-trades.”

After dinner, the both of you sit in front of the fireplace, basking in the warmth. He listens as you talk about your New Year’s resolutions, mainly wanting to find the time and energy to travel more. Phillip finds comfort in your voice, allowing himself to fantasize what it would be like to retire from Shadow Company and travel the world with you. It’s crazy, since he just met you, but he allows himself to imagine.

“I don’t even know what day it is today. Once Christmas passes it’s hard to keep track. Oh,” you say after a yawn,” I almost forgot.”

You jump out of your seat and pad quickly up the stairs. He listens to your soft footsteps walk around the second floor, then you come back down with another leather book.

“I know I’ve already airdropped the photos to you, but I thought you’d like this as well.”

He takes the book from your hands and opens it, finding all of the old photos matched to the new ones. It’s the pictures of himself, in front or in the middle of whatever activity he and his grandmother were doing. He flips through the pages, finding comfort in her smile, knowing she’d want him to be happy, to not hold onto the pain but only remember the good times they spent together.

He turns to look at you, uncaring that there’s tears in his eyes. “I don’t know what to say, thank you doesn’t seem like enough.”

“It’s more than enough, Phillip,” you whisper, reaching to wipe away a teardrop with your thumb,” Through your stories and the stories of my great aunt and uncle, I feel like I got to know her too.”

“How’d ya’ get these printed so fast?”

“I had my friend at the print shop do it!”

You pull your hand back but Phillip grabs it, pressing a kiss to the palm of your hand and another to your wrist. He leaves his lips there for a moment, feeling the flutter of your pulse. He hears the sharp intake of your breath and places another kiss on your skin. You pull your hand away slowly and stand up, leaning over to place a kiss on his cheek.

“I’ll leave you to look through the photo album. I think it’d be good for you to have some alone time, yeah?”

Phillip nods his head in agreement,“ thank you again, doll.”

Once you're upstairs and he hears the sound of water running from your shower, he allows himself to cry. He traces his fingertips on his grandmother’s face, wishing she were still here. He cries until he can barely see, until the photos become too blurry to focus on.

He cries for keeping the memories locked away in his mind for so many years, for not cherishing her memory. He cries for your thoughtfulness and for your gift. Eventually, he makes his way upstairs and falls heavy on the bed. Exhaustion takes control and he falls asleep, the book still in his hand.

- - -

Reader’s P.O.V.

You’re up early the next morning, like most days. You hear the front door close as you descend the stairs and once you open the blinds, you see Phillip walking in the distance towards the town. He seemed like he appreciated the gift, and you really hope he liked it. The night before, you could hear his sobs and it took everything in you not to come back down and comfort him. But, he needed his time alone.

You finish cleaning up the rest of the rooms, really only needing to put the sheets and towels to wash as you had finished most chores the night before. You’re in the process of starting a fresh pot of coffee and taking muffins out of the oven when you see someone out of the corner of your eye. You turn and find Phillip leaning against the doorjamb with a small smile on his face.

“Good morning, Phillip. How’d you sleep?”

“Mornin’ sweet girl,” he pauses and takes a deep breath before responding,”... good. I had a good night's rest. How ‘bout you?”

“Great!” you respond, a smile spreading across your face.

He places a paper bag from your friend’s print shop on the table. “I have something for you.”

“Oh?”

Phillip pulls out a lavender colored photo album from the bag and presents it to you.

“Oh, Phillip. You didn’t have to buy me a new one! We have a ton of them all over–”

“Doll,” he interrupts,” open it.”

You take it and open up the album, gasping as you see the pictures from the day before. There’s some of you ice skating and of you drinking hot chocolate at the bakery and of course the pictures Phillip took of the both of you.

“This is–wow, Phillip,” you whisper,” I don’t know what to say. This is incredibly sweet of you.”

You flip through the pages for a few minutes, seeing you and Phillip posing. He took time out of his day to not only print the photos, but rearrange them in the album. Your heart beats fast in your chest, the crush you have on him only growing. Without another word you wrap your arms around Phillip. He returns the hug immediately, placing a kiss on your forehead.

“I’m grateful, ya’ know? To you, for being with me while I work through it all,” Phillip says once you pull back,” I still have a lot to do on my own. But you were there, encouraging me to take the first step. The major first step.”

He cups the side of your face and you can’t help but lean into his touch. You’re sure you have a dreamy look in your eyes, completely taken aback by the blue of his.

“Do you know how beautiful you are?” he whispers.

“What–”

“Can I kiss you?” he asks, his eyes flicking from yours back to your lips.

You nod, meeting him halfway. His lips are soft and plush. Phillip cups the back of your head with one hand while the other is placed on your lower back. You run light fingers through his thick hair, running the tip of your tongue on his bottom lip. Phillip groans, pushing his hips into yours.

He grinds his erection into your lower belly and moves his hand to cup the curve of your bottom. You lift up your thigh and wrap your leg around his waist. He angles his hips to grind right against your clothed pussy, eliciting a whimper from your mouth.

Phillip breaks away from the kiss, trailing open mouth kisses to your throat. “Let me take you upstairs,” he groans,” please, sweet girl.”

“Yes, yes, Phillip.”

In under two minutes Phillip is able to get you up to your room. You stand at the edge of your bed while he kisses a path over your clothed breasts and down to the waistband of your leggings. He pulls them down, trailing his lips over the soft skin of your thighs. You wiggle out of them, goosebumps erupting on your sensitive skin.

He presses open mouth kisses to your cotton panties, looping his fingers on the sides and pulling them down slowly. You're wet and achy and hot, all thanks to him. You grip the edges of your sweater and pull it off. Phillip stands to unclip your bra, immediately latching his mouth to your swollen nipples. You link your fingers in his hair and tug, feeling his teeth bite gently on your skin.

“So pretty, aren’t you?” Phillip whispers while gently pushing you to lay on the bed.

He brings your hips right to the edge, spreading open your thighs and running light fingers over your slit.

“All wet and swollen just f’me,” he groans.

You nod even though he’s not looking at you, more focused on kneeling and burying his face in your cunt. “Just for you, just for you–oh god!”

He licks a broad, quick stripe from your entrance to your sensitive clit. He does it again, lapping up your juices.

“Phillip,” you drag his name out in a long moan.

“What baby?” he teases,” you want more?”

He slips a finger inside your drooling entrance, moans erupting from the both of you. He fucks into you gently, adding a second finger and swiping his tongue through your folds. Phillip’s tongue swipes up and up and over your clit repeatedly. You twist and squirm your hips, feeling electricity coil in your tummy. You thank the gods that the house is completely empty because the sounds emanating from your mouth are dirty.

“Such a sweet girl,” Phillip coos against your wet skin,” keep makin’ those sounds f’me.”

Phillip curves his fingers and speeds up his movements, the wet from your pussy only making it easier. So soft and beautiful girl falls from his lips the few moments he comes up for air. You feel heat spread rapidly through your body and then you're falling, falling, falling into the abyss, gripping the comforter tightly to hold you in place. He places a strong hand on your stomach to keep you still while you writhe from his tongue and fingers.

“Oka–okay, no mo–more,” you cry out, shaking from the intensity of the aftershocks.

“You made such a pretty mess,” he groans.

Phillip removes his fingers, placing his forehead on your inner thigh. He breathes in deep and places tiny, wet kisses up to your tummy.

“How was that, sweetheart? Wanna keep going?” he whispers, biting the sensitive skin on your chest.

You move your hands to cup his face and bring him in for a kiss. You lick and bite his jaw, cleaning up your mess and leaving behind red marks on his skin. He falls perfectly between your thighs, lightly grinding his still clothed erection on your sensitive skin.

“You’re wearing too much clothes,” you murmur, sliding your hands underneath his crew neck sweater. “Take them off,” you giggle.

“Yes ma’am,” he says, quickly sliding off the bed.

You sit up and watch as he throws off his sweater and then unbuckles his jeans. While he pushes them down, you bring a hand to his muscled stomach, stroking the heated skin. His cock comes into view and you gasp slightly at the size. You reach a hand down to gently stroke his length, shivering at the feel.

“Don’t worry doll,” he moans,” you can take me.”

He grasps your hand, lay back down, whispered in the quiet room. Phillip climbs on the bed and spreads your thighs to accommodate his hips. He wraps your thigh around his waist and rubs his thick cock between your folds. You reach a hand down and guide him right to your dripping entrance. You throw your head back into the soft pillows, feeling him slide into your messy cunt. He works himself all the way in, his eyes half lidded and jaw clenched.

“Phillip,” you whimper,” you’re deep, baby.”

“Fuck, like if you–if you were ma–made f’me,” he mutters.

Phillip hips fuse to yours and you feel the coarse hair on his groin rub on your wet skin. He stays still, running hands over your thighs and up to your swollen nipples, breathe, baby, he repeats to you. He runs his thumb over your lips, sliding it into the warmth of your mouth.

He stretches you, reaches deep inside of you with his thick cock. You squeeze him, adjusting to his size and the feel of him all around you. He slides back out slowly, gripping your thigh for a better angle. In one swift movement he pushes back in. You suck and bite his thumb, gagging slightly when he pushes it deeper into your mouth.

“Honey, fuck–you feel like honey,” he groans, keeping his eyes locked where you two are joined.

He slips his thumb out of your mouth and moves it to rub small circles on your clit.

“Like that, just like that,” you cry.

Phillip keeps the pace, sliding out and pushing all the way back in. You become limp in his hands, molded by his touch and by his cock. He reaches your cervix with each thrust, kissing the end of you, deeper that anyone else has ever reached.

“Feels good, doll?” he asks, moving faster. “Am I stretching this little pussy?”

Tears fall from the corner of your eyes from the intensity. You nod dumbly, entranced by him. His eyes are almost black, pupils dilated.

“My swe–sweet girl,” he groans,” so tight.”

“So good–i’m so– i’m so,” you stammer.

“I know, baby,” he coos,” you’ve been so good.” His thumb swipes through your folds, gathering your wetness and back up to strum your clit. “Let go, I’ve got you.”

He leans over you, pistoning his hips and rolling your clit with his slick thumb. Your vision blurs then electricity shoots up your spine again. Your mouth opens in a chorus of moans and whimpers. Vaguely, you hear Phillip praise you that’s it, come for me baby, my pretty girl.

He finishes soon after, falling on top of you and burying his head in your neck while he fucks you sloppy through your aftershocks. You feel spurts of warmth as he comes inside of you, marking you. You hear his groans and slight whimpers in your ear while his hips jerk and twitch.

You’re exhausted, body deliciously aching and limp. Your eyes droop as you feel the pull of sleep almost take you. Phillip groans as he leans back, pulling out slowly. You feel the drip of his come slide out of land on the sheets. Phillip uses his fingers to push some of it back in.

“There,” he whispers,” back to where it belongs.”

You roll your eyes but Phillip catches you, slapping your inner thigh. You giggle as he stands, watching while he walks into the bathroom and comes back with a washcloth. He cleans the mess on your inner thighs then cleans himself.

“Take a nap with me,” you plead.

“Tempting, but have you eaten?”

You blink, realizing you were in the process of making breakfast before he arrived.

“Eat first, nap later,” he commands, walking to your drawer and pulling out one of your sweaters, linen pants, and thick socks.

Once you’re dressed, he has you wait on the bed while he goes back to his room to change into new clothes. You walk down the stairs together, you, a little more slowly from the ache between your thighs. You push his shoulder as you see him smirk, only slightly annoyed by him.

After breakfast you fall asleep on the living room floor, Phillip setting up the fireplace and placing a mountain of blankets in front of it. You wake a while later, feeling lax but surprisingly energized. You walk into the kitchen, noticing the sun setting from the window.

“I think today is New Year’s Eve, doll,” Phillip says behind you.

You check your phone while Phillip rubs the sleep from his eyes, noticing that it is in fact New Year’s Eve. The days got away from me, you think, leaning into Phillip’s embrace, in the best way possible.

“Will you help me make hot chocolate?” you ask. “I want to try again with the recipe.”

“As long as you teach me how to make snickerdoodle cookies,” Phillip agrees, placing a kiss on the tip of your nose.

“Deal.”

By the time both tasks are finished, you and Phillip find yourselves in the back patio, wrapped in blankets with two cups of delicious hot chocolate and a plate of snickerdoodle cookies. The clock strikes midnight and fireworks light up the sky, Phillip gently grasping your chin while he gives you a New Year's kiss.

if you enjoy my work, leave a comment, reblog, or like! thank you for the support, love you! 💖🧚🏼‍♀️💖

#phillip graves x female reader #phillip graves smut #cod mw2 smut #graves x reader #shadowlali

268 notes · View notes

flowerandblood · 7 months

Text

Rip my heart, heal my soul (2)

[ Jack the Ripper • modern!Aemond x female ]

[ warnings: sex content, smut, angst, stalking, mention of murder and body mutilation, control obsession, trauma ]

[ description: Trying to find happiness in a relationship with the girl who has taken over his heart and mind, Aemond must face problems and a disease that poisons his head. Additionally, nothing sinks forever and one of his crimes is discovered by the police. Murder, mutilation of his victims, obsessive, poetic, dark!Aemond. ]

This chapter was created at the request of fans as a continuation of the oneshot of the same title, which you can read here: Rip my heart, heal my soul

Aemond Inside Alphabet

*English is not my first language. Please, do not repost. Enjoy!*

My others works: Masterlist

_____

He wasn't sure if any holiday had ever passed for him so quickly. Ever since he'd met her, ever since he'd come to her room, ever since he'd promised himself that it was over, that he was going to change, it had felt like the night of his life had finally dawned.

They saw each other practically every day.

Even though he felt like not letting her out of his arms when he woke up by her side in the morning, that he felt like just lingering in the embrace and entwining of their naked bodies, looking endlessly at her peaceful sleeping face, playing with her hair, mussing the skin of her arm with his fingertips, he knew he had to do it.

Every day was like a battle with himself, with his weaknesses, breaking out of his habits, out of his worst nightmares.

Every day when they got dressed, when he had to go to work and she had to run her errands, he felt trepidation in his heart, thought only of the fact that he would never see her again.

That somehow she would find out about what he had been doing for years.

That she would meet someone else, someone better on her path, someone she could fall in love with.

That he would do something to hurt her or discourage her, try to control her too much and ruin everything.

For a few hours after their separation, he thought he was just dying.

And then the afternoon would come, and she would walk into the café where he worked, smiling and happy, telling him at the counter about what she had done and where she had been, about the new article she was writing, about what they needed to read or watch this time, and he was unable to concentrate.

She had come back.

She still loved him.

He wanted to cry.

He was afraid to tell her about his fears, afraid that then she would realise how fucked up he was, what chaos was in his head, how dangerous he was, and then exactly what he feared would happen.

He looped himself in the prison of his thoughts, catching himself looking at her when she spoke to him, when they sat in her room with the wine they drank from the bottle, talking about literature, about films, about people, about life, watching her facial expressions, how interestingly upturned her slender nose was, how soft her lips were.

He knew that when she disagreed with him, her eyebrows crinkled slightly, the corner of her mouth twitched and her eyes narrowed, when she was excited or happy a sudden flash passed through her gaze, her pupils dilated and watched him expectantly, a wide, sweet smile crept onto her cheeks that she couldn't contain.

When he was sad or worried she would lower her gaze, often playing with some material lying beside her, glancing at him surreptitiously, warmth and boundless understanding in her eyes.

She would tell him about her imperfections, about what she thought she had done wrong in her life, about her conflict with her grandfather and her intimate relationship with her brother, about the fact that her parents did not want her to study literature but medicine.

She told him about how, as a child, she was afraid to sleep alone, imagining from a young age that she would open her eyes and some stranger would stand over her and hurt her, that she would be terrified and afraid, but no one would hear her.

As she told him this he would look at her with his lips clenched on the verge of crying, almost falling to his knees in front of her, confessing to her that he could not be with her.

Instead, she ended up in his arms, naked, and he sucked and licked her lips, caressed her beautiful body with his mouth, whispering to her that she was safe, that she would never spend any night alone again, that if anyone tried to hurt her, he would protect her.

And then he slid into her, into her hot, throbbing body, always so incredibly moist and ready to take him inside her.

They made love to each other painfully slowly, stretching their fulfilment to the limit, to the edge of pain, and came at last violently, completely, looking at each other with lips parted and foreheads pressed together, panting hard, stroking each other's faces.

"So kind. So warm." He whispered to her, placing light kisses full of devotion and tenderness on her cheeks warm from the exertion. "So wise. So beautiful."

The natural progression of things after that was that he couldn't pull away from her body, their skin as if clinging to each other, his arms embracing her, snuggling her face into his chest, and she huddled in his embrace as if in the safest place on earth, full of confidence, his cheek nestling against the top of her head, his hand weaving into her hair, the other trailing down her bare back, putting her to sleep with the calm, repetitive motion of his fingers.

In that moment, as they fell asleep in each other's embrace, he was at his happiest.

He was at peace.

She was in his arms, safe.

When she twisted or wanted to change position he would open his embrace only to close it again, adjusting to her, snuggling into her from behind, non-committally, almost anointingly placing his hand on her soft breast, focusing on the way her chest rose and fell with each breath.

She was alive.

Since he'd been around her, since he'd spent every night with her, he hadn't killed anyone.

She was the first girl he had had sex with more than once. What's more, he'd never done it before in such a way, so tenderly, with such care, a need for comfort for himself and for her.

It had gone from something dirty, filthy and disgusting to a form of his greatest devotion and desire, a sense of wanting to be just inside her, just with her.

Her moans were not in his ears an animal howl, but the sweetest, most innocent sound he had ever heard, as if she was almost suffering from the pleasure he was giving her, and he had to comfort her with his lips, whispering between kisses down her throat that just a little longer, that he would let her come soon, that she knew he would never leave her unsatisfied.

He would then give her what she needed and she would melt beneath him, her lips parted in a gesture of total surrender to the heat that was rippling through her body in waves, she would turn her face away, unable to look at him in such an intimate, private moment, helpless.

He would catch her cheeks and thrust his tongue between her lips again, kissing and licking her with a loud click as he finally filled her with his seed, hearing her sigh of relief.

He had fallen in love with her.

When he realised this one evening, looking at her, he became frightened and stopped listening to her, staring at his hands, playing nervously with his fingers, sitting next to her on her bed, leaning against the windowsill.

She was just telling him about her professor, whom she liked very much. She fell silent at some point, seeing that he had closed in his mind again, and touched uncertainly his arm.

He felt goosebumps as her fingers ran over his bare skin, his body involuntarily reacting to her closeness with desire.

"What are you thinking about?" She asked quietly, looking at him uncertainly, her hand trailing up and down his arm slowly, reassuringly.

He was unable to look at her.

"I need to tell you something."

He felt her freeze at the tone of his voice, heard her swallow hard, knowing for some time that something had been bothering him, asking him about it several times without getting any meaningful answer. His heart was pounding like mad.

"I'm not a good person." He muttered, quickly burying his face in his hands for some reason bursting into sobs, terrified, feeling that he was shaking all over, that he was about to lose her, that he was about to go mad again. "God, I've done terrible things."

He felt her looking at him, hushing him, stroking his hair soothingly, embracing him, kissing his ear, pressing her nose to the side of his face, he could smell her wonderful, pleasant scent.

"Do you think I can bear what you want to tell me?" She asked quietly, in a whisper, as if she was afraid someone would hear them. He felt himself freeze all over, his heart pounding in his chest like mad. He opened and closed his mouth, hesitant, terrified.

"No."

He was answered by a long silence that seemed to last an eternity, her fingers stroking his hair thoughtfully.

"Then I don't want to know."

He swallowed loudly, lowering his hands, looking at her shocked, not believing she had said that. They looked at each other for a long moment, in her eyes warmth, pain and some kind of certainty he didn't understand.

"You don't understand. I did something very, very bad." He mumbled in a trembling voice, as if trying to make her realise that he wasn't talking about owing rent, breaking someone's arm or robbing someone.

He was killing women and gouging out their eyes.

He sliced them with a cleaver and packed them in black bags.

He would take them far out of town and throw them into lakes.

It had to come out sooner or later, someone would fall on the trail, find the trace and the rest would fall apart like dominoes.

"I don't want to know. You promised me you would protect me. How will you protect me from the consequences of what you want to say?" She asked, and he covered his mouth with his hand, running it over his skin, his eyebrows arched in an agony he'd never felt before, he felt like his whole body was twitching.

"I knew from the beginning. I felt it when I saw you for the first time. Just like when I read the Black Cat I went back to continue reading the book knowing that I would be scared, knowing that the darkness was waiting for me there. When I met you I knew, I knew from the beginning that something had happened in your life, something terrible that I don't want to know about." She muttered on the verge of crying, touching her fingers to his cheek as if he was made of fragile glass about to shatter in front of her, her eyes red from the tears, warm, filled with affection and pain, her lips trembling as she spoke the words.

He stared at her in disbelief, breathing hard, and after a moment they both threw themselves into each other's arms bursting into loud, helpless sobs.

She knew.

She felt who he was.

She felt who he was and she let him into her life anyway.

Into her heart.

He had sworn not to tell her and that if there was any danger of her finding out from another source, he would make sure it never reached her ears.

If up to now he had thought he loved her, if he had been crazy about her, she had now become in his eyes some kind of goddess.

That night it was she who cuddled him close, stroking his head, his hair, his shivering body, whispering that it was all right now, that he was brave, that she knew he wanted to tell her, because he really loved her, that he was afraid of losing her, that everything would be all right.

Knowing that she understood him, that she knew what he was afraid of made him suddenly feel some kind of intoxicating relief.

As the end of the summer holidays and her return to university approached, they both began to contemplate what to do. He was ready to drop everything for her and go after her, knowing that he would find a job easily and that working in a coffee shop was no great feat.

They decided to give it a try.

They searched the internet for a bedsit together deciding that they would settle for anything for the time being, so they lay on her bed with his laptop, searching the classifieds.

He made sure he thoroughly cleaned his laptop of all remnants of his past, as well as his flat. He checked it several times, remembering his promise to her, and left his phone and his laptop with her without fear.

He trusted her.

He trusted her like no one else.

Never in his life had he felt such satisfaction, such fulfilment as when they spent their first evening in their new home together.

They arranged their clothes in the wardrobe, their books on the shelves, their plates, their mugs, hung pictures and photographs, everything was shared, everything was theirs.

They made love that night panting loudly, finally not having to hold back in front of her other roommates living next door, and caressed each other completely naked as she sat on top of him, rising slowly up and down, filling herself with him, looking down at him with parted lips, stroking his scarred cheek, once in a while placing a kiss on the eyelid beneath which was his artificial eye.

"So beautiful." She whispered tenderly, and he felt his cock pulsing hard inside her at her words, desperate, so in need of fulfilment. "I desire you so much."

He kissed her greedily, locking his lips with hers, moving inside her more aggressively, feeling that if she kept talking he would just cum inside her, and he wanted her to come on top of him, to feel her orgasm on his cock, the pleasure flowing through her body.

"− c'mon − my little girl wants to come with my cock inside her, hm? −" He gasped and she nodded quickly, looking up at him in despair, rising and falling on him faster and faster with the loud, sticky click of wet skin hitting skin.

"− I know − I know, baby − c'mon, your boyfriend needs to fill ya −" He breathed out, pressing his thumb to where their bodies met, finding between her folds the place of her hidden delight, she moaned helplessly as he began to massage her with circular, sure motions, pressing her forehead against his, her walls began to tighten on him.

"− yes − God, please − please − please −" She cried out loudly and came with a sweet sigh of relief, tilting her head back only to snuggle her face against his cheek again.

She squealed when he changed position suddenly, throwing her onto her back, grabbing her thighs in his hands and starting to fuck her furiously, panting loudly with her, ignoring her pathetic whimpering from overstimulation, her hands trying to push him away to no avail.

"− shhh − I know, baby − just a little longer − m' close −" He growled out and squeezed his eyes tightly shut, breathing deeply, feeling his seed fill her hot insides. He leaned over her with difficulty, feeling that his body was soft and numb, and placed a messy, light kiss on her lips, to which she responded with a sigh of delight.

He felt like he was in a constant state of panic when he had to leave for work and she was going to class. All he could think about during this time was her, what they were going to watch or read when they got home, what he was going to make for dinner to make her happy, remembering to pop into the shop on the way to the flat to buy her favourite rolls so she could have them for breakfast in the morning.

Nothing made him feel better than messages from her. She asked him not to text her during class so she could concentrate and he respected that, albeit with great pain and suffering, all the time checking his phone to see if she had had a break yet.

He smiled under his breath as he saw her message, recalling the situation from the day before when one of the female customers didn't understand the intent of the espresso.

If he had been a person before he met her, before he was with her, perhaps he would have done something to her, but now he was surprised to find that he was indifferent.

The opinion of strangers no longer mattered to him.

He thought sometimes with regret that perhaps if he had met her in high school, if she had been there for him during that difficult time, he would never have killed anyone.

That he would have been a completely different person.

He tried to make up for what he had done, what was weighing down on him and her like a black storm cloud with his commitment and understanding, his struggle with his possessiveness, jealousy and fear.

When one evening, which in his mind they were supposed to spend together as usual, she told him that her friends had invited her to go out on the town with them and she really wanted to go, he felt a powerful pang of disappointment, an immediate desire to keep her.

He needed her and she wanted to leave him.

She proposed to him straight away to go with her, but he didn't want to go anywhere.

He wanted to have dinner with her, watch something together, talk to her, make love to her and fall asleep beside her, as he had every day for the many wonderful weeks in which she had filled his life.

But he said nothing, only tightening his lips, unable to hide the expression of displeasure on his face, and looked away, sitting at the table, rubbing his fingers stretched out in front of him. She saw at once how tense he had become and some of her own sensitive intuition told her what was bothering him.

He could not explain how she guessed with such ease what he was afraid of.

She approached him with a tender sigh, grasping his hand in hers, and he swallowed loudly, stroking her soft palm with his thumb.

"Stay." He said quietly, pleadingly, not even daring to look at her, embarrassed by his weakness, his begging.

"It's been a very long time since I went anywhere with them." She said, neither agreeing nor refusing him, and he let the air in quietly, looking intently at their entwined hands.

"Why do you care so much?" He asked with some kind of resentment, a sense that his presence was not enough for her, though he wanted only her, loved only her, needed only her.

She, however, looked at him with understanding and serenity, as if she had anticipated the question.

"Because I like them. The same way I like to eat rolls for breakfast in the morning, and you buy them from the shop to make me happy. I change our bedding every few days because I know you like the smell of it fresh and washed. You make me tea in my doggie-shaped mug because it's my favourite - because I like it. There's no greater reason for that." She explained softly, her voice enveloping him like a blanket, her words somehow strangely calming him even though he still didn't want her to leave.

He swallowed loudly, licking his lips with his tongue, feeling them become all dry with emotion.

"If I let you go there, will it make you happy?" He asked quietly, and she nodded.

"Yes. And out of gratitude that you sacrificed for me, I will make you happy when I return." She whispered and he felt heat in his lower abdomen, his manhood pulsed hard in his trousers at her words, his body went through goosebumps. He finally lifted his gaze to her, breathing deeply.

"And when are you coming back?" He asked uncertainly, and she mused for a moment.

"I'll be back by 10 p.m. Okay? We'll still have time to watch something together then." She said with a smile and he nodded, recognising that, indeed, it was not a very late hour.

"Okay." He whispered, and she grasped his cheeks in her hands, leaned over him and kissed him tenderly.

His manhood aggressively pulsed in his trousers, demanding her closeness, his hands tightened on the material of her jumper, but she pulled away from him.

"When I get back, you're going to come inside me as many times as you want. Okay?" She asked lightly, as if she were talking about the weather, and he felt a shiver run down his cheeks and just nodded, swallowing hard.

He watched her put on her shoes, watched her put on her jacket and backpack and waved at him saying they would see each other in a few hours.

She left.

He felt the urge to cry like a baby.

She had left him, and he needed her.

He sighed heavily, running his hand over his face, and thought he needed to pull himself together.

She had already told him about the friends she was going to meet and described them to him in detail.

He couldn't help himself and, during a break from work, he found every single one of them on Facebook, paying the most attention to the boy she was studying with for the year. According to what she said, he had a status set up for a relationship with some other girl, which reassured him.

Occasionally he would check what she said about her schedule, where she was going or who she was texting with, casting a quick glance at her phone.

She never lied.

She always told the truth and answered all his questions with commitment, even the ones that could be considered already too far-fetched.

"If your friend has a girlfriend, why is he meeting you?" He asked frustratedly, pouring hot water over her tea and his coffee, he heard her humming along behind, sitting in a chair in just his black Tshirt, eating her favourite lettuce and tomato rolls.

He loved it when she wore his T-shirts.

There was no more intimate sight for him, a confirmation that she was his.

"His girlfriend doesn't know that much about literature, he can't talk to her about our exams or the assignments we have to do. For the rest, he often brings her with him, she's a nice girl and she's very fond of us. I was once alone with her at lunch when they were having a crisis and she needed my advice." She said calmly and he furrowed his brow, placing her cup in front of her, sitting down next to her at the table.

"Why yours exactly?" He asked concerned that she might have been close to this boy and for some reason knew him better than his own girlfriend. She took a sip of tea and went on with her answer, undaunted by the tone of his voice.

"She said I was a good listener and that she knew I wouldn't judge her. She told me that she sometimes feels silly in his presence because she doesn't know what he's talking about. That it makes her think they are not meant for each other. But I told her that in front of us he is always talking about how smart she is, that she does so many difficult things in her classes that he feels dumb around her. She was relieved when it turned out they were both afraid of the same thing, and since then I think they've gotten along very well." She said lightly, and he hummed under his breath, taking a sip of coffee, feeling some kind of relief and not continuing the subject.

Although he had never trusted anyone in his life, except perhaps his own mother, with whom he had sporadic, telephone contact, he tried with all his might to trust her and fight the tormenting thoughts in his head.

That's why, when she left, he was lying in their bed, trying to read the book she had recommended to him, but he was unable to concentrate.

He glanced at his watch and phone display once in a while, wondering if she was okay, if she was safe. Suddenly he realised that she would be coming back at night and he felt apprehensive, so he thought it was a good reason to text her and ask if he should pick her up.

That way he could also get a glimpse of the people she had come with and be sure she would get home safely.

She wrote back to him after a few minutes.

He sighed heavily, pressing his lips together, accepting that he had to wait patiently for her return and wrote her back quickly.

He shuddered when she answered him almost immediately, feeling warm in his heart at the thought that she had a phone close at hand in case he wanted to contact her, if he needed her.

He felt her message in his trousers and was now completely hard. Desperate, he even thought about relieving himself quickly with his hand, imagining her riding him, but decided with difficulty that he would restrain himself.

The closer it got to the agreed time, the more stress and anxiety he felt.

What if she was late? If she doesn't keep her word?

He felt a burning sensation under his eyelids and a fear, a fear of disappointment, of the thought that he couldn't trust her after all.

He jumped up when he heard the sound of a key turning in the lock couple minutes later. He glanced quickly at his phone and saw that she had returned fifteen minutes ahead of schedule, some kind of heat wave dousing his body.

She walked inside with a smile, greeting him loudly, pulling off her shoes and jacket as if nothing had happened, as if she hadn't left him for so many hours and he hadn't performed the heroic feat of waiting for her.

He literally threw himself at her, pressing her against the wall, clinging desperately to her lips, shoving his tongue deep down her throat, unzipping and ripping her trousers from her, her breathing ragged, rapid, her hands entwined in his hair.

"How could you leave me?" He gasped between one messy, wet kiss and the next, a loud, drawn-out click accompanied the chaotic movements of their mouths, he didn't even know when he'd pulled her panties off or when her fingers quickly undid his belt and trousers, releasing what was underneath.

"Hm? I've been waiting for you. I've been waiting for you and fucking dying of longing." He growled grabbing her hips and lifting her up, her legs entwined at his back in a natural reflex. Her body arched like a string as he entered her suddenly, brutally, deeply, filling her to the very end with a loud groan of relief.

"I know, baby. I know, you've been so brave for me." She mewled into his mouth with difficulty, clamping her hands around his neck and hair, running them up and down his nape, over his cheek, getting out sentences between their lustful, passionate kisses and the brutal, sure thrusts of his hips, smacking again and again against her buttocks with a wet slap.

"So good to me. So patient. So understanding. I'm here now. Ah, God, I'm here, baby." She cried out innocently, sweetly, and he moaned low at her words, sinking his face into the hollow of her neck, licking her sweat and biting her, gripping her hips tightly, fucking her furiously, wanting to punish her at the same time as he wanted to reward her because she was back, she was back, she was back.

"I love you." He mumbled, and she sobbed loudly at his words, her core pulsed hard against his length, trying to keep him inside. "God, I love you so fucking much."

She came with his name on her lips, and he cum inside her soon after, panting hard, it felt like they were both almost screaming for a moment, and he sank to his knees with her, shuddering, her fingers trailing over his head, his back, cuddling him tenderly, both of them pulsing inside her, breathing anxiously, bliss in her voice.

"− my beloved − so good to me − waited for me so patiently − so good −" She praised him, kissing his face again and again, and he looked at her dreamily, recognising that he would never be able to refuse her anything, running his fingertips down her soft cheek.

"− I love you −" He whispered, as if he wanted her to understand, to comprehend the enormity of his feelings, the enormity of his struggle, the enormity of his devotion.

She grasped his hand in hers and kissed it tenderly, then pressed her soft lips to each of his fingers, his hand that had done so many bad things in the past, that had hurt with such great ease.

"− I love you too − I'm here −" She whispered soothingly, kissing his fingers anew with the unhurried, tender movement of her lips. "− I'm here, only yours −"

He thought, looking at her with tenderness, that perhaps with her he would calm down.

The voices in his head would quieten, calmed by her whispering, until they finally disappeared.

He fell asleep that night in her embrace, full of hope, his face snuggled between her naked breasts, listening to her breathing, feeling the beat of her heart under his cheek.

She was alive.

The next day, however, he felt like dying.

Browsing through the news portals, he came across a picture of a black sack pulled from a lake, the article left him with no illusions.

MACABRE DISCOVERY Alice Moore's family did not give up in their search and sadly finally found their daughter, who had been missing for a year. Unfortunately, she has not been found alive and the details of this crime are shocking. The quartered parts of her body were found in a black bag at the bottom of a lake near the village of Hanoverth, thirty kilometres from where she lived. It was known that Alice had gone missing on the night of 11 over 12 October last year, the last time she was seen on the surveillance cameras of the Moon Vibe club. She had left her friends, possibly feeling unwell and left the club. She can be seen walking down the street just outside the premises and then disappearing around the corner to vanish without a trace for a whole 12 months. The motives for this crime are unknown, although it is suspected that the girl's previous sexual partners, who may have been jealous of her and murdered her in an act of revenge, may have been involved. Most gruesome, however, is the fact that her head was stripped of her eyeballs, which were not found in the bag. The police have launched an investigation into the case.

He felt tears welling up in his eyes and even though a customer was standing in front of him, asking him if he would finally serve him, he couldn't look away from the phone and what he had read.

He knew it would come out at some point.

Some part of him may have even hoped for it before he met her.

But not now.

He apologised to his client, called out to his colleague to change him for a moment, left, locked himself in the toilet and crouched down leaning his back against the wall, starting to sob, clasping his hands over his face.

He remembered this girl, remembered her chatting him up in the club, asking him about his eye, telling him he was handsome, well built. She'd laughed and put her arm around him, and he'd felt a growing frustration, anger and this recurring, disgusting thought.

Whore.

He waited for her in the distance, in the other street, where he knew the cameras didn't reach. When she saw him smoking a cigarette she herself approached him, she herself suggested they go to the hotel, to have some fun.

So they went.

He never left his fingerprints or any traces behind.

He was a pedant.

He used condoms so he wouldn't leave a drop of his seed in those sluts.

He ran his hands through his hair, trembling all over, regretting everything he had done, but not because he felt sympathy for the victims, but because he was a threat to her now, that if this came out and she was at the centre of it, her academic career, her place at the university would be lost.

It would destroy her life.

He thought that in the state he was in now he might kill her in an act of despair, strangle her at the thought that she would not be his, that he could not have her.

He left work even though he hadn't finished his shift, drove to their flat and packed, tears dripping down his cheeks as he wrote a message to her on a piece of paper, the pen in his hand trembling with each letter.

My past caught up with me. I won't drag you down with me, baby.

She wrote him messages as she did every day, but he didn't answer her, and when the hour came when she usually went home his phone rang.

It rang and rang and rang, and he wept and wept and wept, already being several hours away from their town, from their home, from their happiness.

He promised her that he would protect her.

That he would protect her from the world

That he would protect her from himself.

It wasn't until the next day, lying in his hotel room, in an act of despair and longing, that he dared to open her messages on his phone.

He regretted reading it, as he burst into helpless sobs again, powerless and without hope, feeling like an empty vessel, an empty shell, exactly like the bodies of the women he threw into the lake.

He quickly found a job at another café, explaining to his boss that he had to leave his town suddenly and return to care for a sick parent.

He was surprised at how easy it was for him to lie.

She was the only one he never lied to.

She wrote to him every day.

She told him about her day at university, what she was eating, what she was reading. She also sent him her new articles, and he read it all several times a day, recognising that it was only because of the information from her that he wasn't going mad yet.

He didn't write her back.

He didn't want to give her hope.

After what he had done, there was no happy ending for them.

Even so, he hadn't killed anyone since he met her. He didn't want to sleep with any other women, touch any other women. He abhorred them.

He wanted only her.

One day, although she was in the habit of writing to him around noon when she had her lunch break between classes, he had not received any message from her. He felt anxious, but thought that perhaps something important had happened and he would hear from her later.

He did not hear from her all day.

He despaired and when he returned to his newly rented flat he simply stared at the ceiling.

She gave up.

She didn't speak to him for the next few days and doubts began to creep up inside him.

What if something happened to her?

He pressed his lips together at the thought, feeling the cold sweat on the back of his neck.

What if she was in hospital?

What if someone had hurt her?

He remembered her words about how scared she was that one day she would wake up in the night and someone would be standing over her.

How scared must she have been at night now that he wasn't there for her, that she couldn't find refuge in his arms?

He felt a tightening in his throat at the thought and struggled to stop himself from crying in front of the customer he had just poured coffee for.

He told his boss the next day that he needed a few days off and would work it off later and returned to their town, heading to her University. He didn't spot her anywhere, he knew what time her classes were and he recognised her friends from Facebook, so he easily spotted Hannah in the crowd of students.

"Hi. I'm sorry −" He started and she flinched, surprised, glancing at him with big eyes, looking at his scar.

He figured he didn't give a shit if she was disgusted with him or not. He explained to her quickly who he was looking for and that he was very worried because she wasn't taking calls from him even though she always did.

Lie.

Hannah blinked, looking at him uncertainly. She grunted quietly, correcting her bag which had started to slip off her shoulder.

"− well − actually, we're all worried about her − she hasn't come to class for a few days, she's not answering our calls −" She said hesitantly, and he felt the cold spread through his chest, his heart started pounding like crazy.

He thought that if she did something to herself because of him, he would gouge out his healthy eye himself and throw himself into the lake.

An empty shell.

He still had his keys to their flat and went there in the evening, not wanting to arouse the suspicions of the neighbours. He swallowed loudly and pressed on the door handle, stepping slowly inside, seeing only darkness.

He felt relieved at the thought of not smelling musty and decaying.

He turned on the light and then he saw her, lying on their bed in his black shirt. She raised herself to sit up, looking at him in shock, her lips slightly parted.

She was alive.

He stared at her in disbelief, his throat tightening when he realised he could smell her again. Her trembling hands reached for the buttons of his shirt and began to unbutton it slowly, he felt what he saw in his trousers, his manhood pulsed so painfully hard that a shudder went through him.

She parted her lips and whispered just one sentence before he threw himself on top of her and began to fuck her.

"I knew you'd come."

_____

Aemond Taglist:

(bold means I couldn't tag you)

@its-actually-minicika @notnormalthings-blog @nikstrange @zenka69 @bellaisasleep @k-y-r-a-1 @g-cf2020 @melsunshine @opheliaas-stuff @chainsawsangel @iiamthehybrid @tinykryptonitewerewolf @namoreno @malfoytargaryen @qyburnsghost @aemondsdelight @persephonerinyes @fan-goddess

392 notes · View notes