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#it's going to start looking like a hammer soon i promise
littledovesnow · 4 months
Text
a growing family
request(s): Reader and Coriolanus have a little fight, and Reader blurts out she's pregnant. AND corio when you tell him you’re pregnant? maybe even him going to the doctor with you?? I love ur fics <3
word count: 2.1k
content warnings: pregnancy, little angst (like a smidgen of it, you gotta squint to see it), little bit of mean coriolanus
You stared at the calendar that was pinned to the corkboard, heart hammering in your chest so bad you could hear it.
“No, no, no.” You mumbled, running a hand through your hair, getting stuck in a few tangles.
Not wanting to face your husband when he got home, you grabbed your purse and headed down the grand staircase and out of the apartment, walking over the Corso’s small grass area and up to the Snow’s apartment.
Knocking on the door, you looked at your chipped nail polish until the door flung open, Tigris appearing on the other side.
She had a wide smile on her face, but it fell as soon as she saw your expression. “What’s wrong?” She asked, pulling you into the apartment.
You looked down the hall to see if the Grandma’am was home. “You have to promise not to tell your cousin.”
Tigris’ eyes grew, and she looked you up and down. “What? Why? What are you-”
“I’m late.”
It took a moment before Tigris’ head snapped up, eyes meeting your own. “You- have you gone to a doctor yet?”
Shaking your head, you let out a tearful laugh. “Are you kidding? As soon as anyone sees me walking into an obstetrician’s office, they’ll run to the Capitol News fast as lightning. I want to tell Coriolanus myself; I don’t want him to find out from the paper.”
Tigris frowned. “How late are you?”
“A couple weeks. I lost track of time, and I was stressed so I assumed it was just late. But then I was taking a shower and the smell of my body wash made me want to throw up. And- oh my God, my boobs hurt so bad.”
Tigris laughed, sending you an apologetic look. “You’ll need to tell Coryo soon. I think he wants to go out to some of the Districts and do some press soon.”
It was true, Coriolanus had brought the idea up the other night at dinner, wanting to start gathering a following for the upcoming election now that President Ravenstill had announced he would be stepping down due to his poor health.
Nodding, you toyed with the loose hem of your jacket, tears coming to your eyes again. “I know, I’m going to. I just don’t want him to get mad. We’ve always talked about starting a family once he’s more established in the field.”
Tigris said your name softly, grabbing your hands. “I know Coryo, and I know he won’t get upset. Maybe if you keep this a secret any longer he’ll get a little disgruntled, but he won’t be mad.”
You appreciated the older Snow more than you thought you would, giving her a tight squeeze. “Thank you, Tigris.”
-----
Coriolanus closed the door to the apartment, letting out a sigh as he tried to keep his work and home life separate.
He called your name, walking into the kitchen with the bottle of wine he wanted to surprise you with.
Entering the kitchen, he frowned when he didn’t see you where you were usually humming to something on the radio, looking in the fridge or preparing dinner. As much as he offered to hire an Avox to cook and prepare meals, you declined it; stating you liked being able to make whatever you were hungry for.
“Love?” He called, setting the wine down and moving down the hall to the bedroom, worry growing in the pit of his stomach when you weren’t on the chaise with a book in your hand, as you sometimes were when he worked a little later than usual.
He heard a shuffle in the bathroom, behind the closed door.
“Sweetheart, are you alright?” He asked, opening the door slowly, stepping in when he saw you sitting against the tub, hair pulled back crudely.
“Hi, Coryo.” You threw him a smile, though it looked more like a grimace given your current situation.
Kneeling down, Coriolanus moved some of the hair that was still growing out from the bangs, frown on his face. “What’s wrong, why didn’t you send for me? Dr. Gaul would’ve let me leave. She’s got a soft spot for you, you know.”
You leaned into Coriolanus’ hand, small groan coming out of your mouth. “Didn’t want to bother you. It’ll pass in a few minutes.”
“And how are you so certain about that?” Coriolanus mused, rubbing your back as you leaned over the porcelain bowl once more.
Once you were sure you were done, you slowly rose, Coriolanus with a careful grasp on your hip to keep you upright.
“Because,” you took a swig of the water glass you had poured earlier, spitting into the sink basin. “I felt like this yesterday, too.”
Coriolanus’ hand moved to your forehead, feeling for a fever. “You don’t feel feverish. Perhaps it’s that new jam you’ve put on your toast this morning. Did you have it yesterday, too?”
Looking at him in the mirror’s reflection, you simply nodded, even though you did not. “Yeah, probably just a bad batch.”
Coriolanus helped you to the bed, hand moving along your jaw in admiration. “Why don’t you rest, I’m sure I can scrounge up some soup.”
You nodded, watching your husband’s retreating figure as he disappeared down the hall.
Once you were sure he was out of earshot, you leaned your head against the wall, one hand going to rub on your not-yet-visible bump. “You’ve gotta give me time to tell him.”
-----
It had been two days since Coriolanus found you on the bathroom floor, and he continued to believe that you simply had a small bout of food poisoning, none the wiser to the true reason you were ill only a few times.
Currently, you were sitting next to him, across from the Plinths, who insisted on weekly dinners at their apartment, only a few floors below you and Coriolanus.
An Avox went around pouring wine, pausing when you held a hand over your glass. “None for me, thank you.”
Ma Plinth looked between you and the bottle of wine. “It’s your favorite?”
Smiling, you were going to explain when Coriolanus spoke up for you, comforting hand on your thigh.
“She’s been a little ill the last few days, some food poisoning.”
Not believing it for a second, the older woman simply nodded, letting the Avox pour her another round.
“Coriolanus,” Strabo Plinth spoke up, leaning forward to talk business. “Have you given any thought about visiting the Districts? It would do you well to stop in before you officially start campaigning.”
Though only Capitol residents were eligible to vote in the upcoming election, many candidates made sure to stop into a majority of the Districts to show they aren’t afraid of the rebels, that they can control them if need be.
Coriolanus nodded, setting down his utensils. “I am, yes. Dr. Gaul and I had been talking about a good time for me to take a short leave. It looks like I’ll be able to go in few months, plenty of time before the campaigning will start.”
You mulled over the sentence for a moment, telling yourself now was as good a time as any. “If you go then, I won’t be able to go with you.”
Three sets of eyes focused on you, varying degrees of confusion swimming in all of them. “Why? It will be autumn, perfect season for photography of Panem’s future leading couple.”
Coriolanus quickly thought over any important dates in your family, none that arose during the time you two would be on the train. “It’ll only be a few weeks; we’ll be back in time for your sister’s birthday.”
You smiled at the blonde, looking at Strabo Plinth as he spoke up.
“A man can’t properly campaign without his wife there, how will the Capitol view you as a First Lady if you’re not by his side?”
“Yes, and perhaps seeing a united front will help lessen the threat of another rebellion.” Coriolanus nodded, clinking his glass of whiskey with his late classmate’s father.
Mrs. Plinth, eyes narrowing, seemed to figure out what the men did not. “Honey, why don’t we save this conversation for a better-suited time? I’m sure I can talk to Ravenstill and get him to set up a meeting time between the three of you.”
Strabo Plinth and Coriolanus both seemed content with that, shifting subjects to something you weren’t interested in.
You sent a grateful look to the woman across from you, who simply nodded in return.
-----
“I don’t understand why you don’t want to go visit the Districts with me.” Coriolanus snapped, fingers hastily undoing the tie he despised wearing.
“Coryo, I do want to go with you. It’s just that time won’t be good.” You carefully removed the numerous hairpins from their position at the nape of your neck.
The blonde man grumbled, pulling his shirt from where it was tucked into his trousers. “If we go any sooner or later it’ll be a bad time for my campaigning! Too soon, the news will have moved on to something else, like- like Flickerman’s new parrot!”
You rolled your eyes, struggling to unzip the dress you wore. “Can you-”
“Go any later and it’ll impede the speeches and galas and events I need to be in the Capitol for!” Coriolanus’ voice raised, and you paused to look at him, hand still trying to grab the zipper.
“Coryo.”
Coriolanus threw a hand up, face growing red from anger. “Do you even want me to become President?! To be able to give you all you want, to never have to worry about money, food, anything?”
You were at your wit’s end, hand finally falling from your back. “I do, Coriolanus! I do want you to be the president. But if you travel to the Districts at that time I can’t go with you because I’ll be too pregnant to go with you!”
There was a silence so loud you didn’t dare breathe. “What?” Coriolanus whispered, eyes meeting yours. “Pregnant?”
Nodding, you were once again trying to unzip the dress, huffing as you gave up for good. “Yes, and I had a special dinner planned but you just had to go and ruin it.”
Coriolanus silently moved behind you, carefully unzipping the dress and letting you use his hands for balance as you stepped out of the skirt. “You didn’t have food poisoning, did you?”
Shaking your head, you felt your eyes water. “No.”
You must have looked like a fool, standing there in your undergarments, husband behind you with his dress trousers and socks still on.
“I’m sorry for yelling. I- I’m sure we can still visit the Districts before the election, just a more abbreviated tour than planned.”
You laughed, a watery, light laugh. It was music to Coriolanus’ ears. “Whatever you want, Mr. President.”
-----
Your knee was bouncing rapidly, the only telltale sign of your anxiety.
Coriolanus had gone forth and scheduled an appointment with the Capitol’s best obstetrician, going to far as to personally thank them for agreeing to see you at such an early time. He also laid out the threat that if anything were to happen to you during the pregnancy that could have been stopped, the obstetrician would never see their family again, but that wasn’t for you to worry about.
“Love, you don’t need to be nervous. I’ll be with you.” Coriolanus mumbled, hand moving from behind your chair to your thigh, thumb rubbing soothing circles on the side.
“I know, I just- this is our first child, Coryo.” You looked up at him. “I can’t help but be nervous.”
Coriolanus smiled, pressing his lips to your temple. “You’re going to be a wonderful mother.”
The nurse came out and escorted you two back to the exam room, instructing you to pull your shirt up as she squirted gel onto your stomach.
You and Coriolanus watched her every move, anxiety sky-rocketing as she frowned at the screen.
“What? What’s wrong?” Coriolanus asked, hand gripping your own.
“I just- let me get the doctor to confirm, give me one moment.” She didn’t look back as she left the room, leaving you and Coirolanus to soak in an anxiety-filled silence.
Only a few moments passed before the nurse returned, doctor in tow, and she also moved the wand around. “Ah, yes. You are correct.”
“What?” You asked, eyes flitting between the medical professionals and the back of the computer.
“Congratulations, Mrs. Snow. You’re having twins.”
-----
a/n: send requests here
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eldritch-spouse · 10 months
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Going to be thirsty here for a moment-. But rereading Breg's fics made me wonder how he would be if Roomie started training herself to be able to take both of his dicks in one hole. Just to let him inside and hammer away. Like, please, sir, break me. 🤲🥺
[Love when people come here like "I hope I'm not being too thirsty". Fem reader. Ignoring anatomy for this because hhhnn-]
TW: Double penetration; Slight dubcon moment.
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" Listen to me Breg. "
You start, and even if you're currently beneath the breeder on the bed, you still sound like a drill sergeant. Mostly because you have to, Breg's not to be trusted when he's excited.
" I've been working up to this for a long while- "
" I know! " He interrupts, the bottom of his face still covered in drool and slick when he dove between your legs after you were done with the stretching exercises.
Breg hates that you had to use toys to size yourself up for this, but the promise that you were doing it so you could welcome both of his members made him slightly more tolerant of it. Didn't change the fact that the breeder would often sit and watch, whining in jealousy of whatever you were stuffing yourself with.
" I'll be really careful! I'll be nice- I promise angel! "
His babbling is a waste of slaver, the monster isn't even looking at you, eyeless gaze perched entirely on the sight of your inviting pussy and the way both of his cocks frame it. The breeder looks like he's thrilling himself with the show, making a horny little noise of appreciation and biting at his lower lip. It's as if he's already envisioning himself deep inside you, not having to squeeze one of his cocks between you two. It's been a fantasy of his for a long time, even you have to admit that it's... Exciting to think about.
Now though, you need Breg to focus, so you grab the sides of his head and bring it closer to yours. " I mean it, listen to me. "
His happiness is infectious, you have to turn away to hide the smile tugging at your lips when Breg simply dips to place kisses all over your face, hearing that long tail sway and swat around.
" Breg! " Mercifully, he stops. " You have to pay attention to what you're doing when you start okay? If we do this wrong, it could hurt me a lot. "
" Yes. " He rushes. " Yes, okay. "
"Good. " With a pant, you spread your legs just a tad further, figuring you couldn't possibly be in a more comfortable positions for this, especially with the support pillows helping to angle you. " Now straighten up a bit, I need to see what I'm doing. "
When the breeder does, you note the way his breathing is already sped up, how feverish he's already become. It's impressive how Breg always manages to make you feel so hot, even when you think you look like a fresh mess. Gently, you reach down to grab both of his dicks, keeping them together as much as you can, and he helps the process by scooting forward to line up against your pussy.
Feeling both tips park there is enough to get you to blow a tense exhale, knowing it's going to be a stretch and a half. In sharp contrast, Breg moans like he's in heat, looking as if his self-control is hanging by a very thin thread currently peeling itself apart.
Some hesitant seconds pass.
" Please angel- Please! I want this so bad. It's going to feel so good, let me fuck you, please! " White claws rub at your thighs comfortingly while he pleads, tail thumping impatiently on the mattress behind him. And curse him, because the breeder's shameless imploring always rises a fire in you that's hard to put out.
" I- I want you to push slowly, okay? " You caution, hold still firm on him, your spare arm clutching the sheets.
" Uhuh! "
True to his word, Breg is careful, torturously edging his cocks forward. The lube helps immeasurably, and pretty soon, both heads pop inside, making you hiss and gasp, immediately clenching at the intrusion. Massive. Fucking massive, holy shit. A wave of warmth courses through you as a pleasant shiver moments later.
" Hhn- Ohh... " He's drooling. Like actually drooling on you. " Hahh. " You can tell by the visible flexing of his legs that the only thing Breg wants to do is buck and hammer the rest of himself in, but with an almost pained grunt, he just sits there statically so the two of you can catch your breaths.
" Good- Very good. " You praise his surprising discipline. " Just keep going like that. "
He makes what you think was an affirmative "Mmn" noise and lolls his tongue out when the next couple of inches are softly rolled into you. It's insanely filling on its own, your thighs squirm and you're not sure if you want to edge away from this or even closer. Breg's instincts kick in and he holds your hips down sternly, slowly sinking more of himself in and making deep, pleased moans that wash against you like waves.
" Ngh- Deep- Slow down, give me a second. " It's stealing the breath out of you.
It takes a couple of moments before Breg's brain registers the command, but he eventually pauses with half of his cocks buried in you. He physically has to tear his gaze off the sight of you stretched around him, chest heaving as he curves to blanket you.
" You're so tight, fffuck you always are but this- " He sighs shakily over your ear, and instead of calming down enough to relax, you only tense and squeeze around him harder, making the breeder growl and whine. " Mmnph-! If you keep doing that I won't hold it, angel. Please, can I put the rest in, please? "
One of these days his begging is going to burst a blood vessel of yours. Or maybe it's the way you feel so bloated already.
" O- Okay, but then you need to let me catch up, okay? "
" Mmmf- " You think he growled there for a second. " Yes! Thank you! "
You expected him to push in slowly the same way he did up until now, though you should frankly know better by now... Breg pulls away in a preparatory motion that should have given it all away, then slams home with a force you have no words to describe.
Your stomach bounces and your lungs knock into your throat, eyeballs jostled in their sockets from the strength of his wild horse piston into your cunt. The disgraceful wet noise that echoed in your bedroom doesn't help in keeping yourself grounded. Although you didn't have enough air in your body to do much more than choke and convulse at the intrusion, the breeder makes more than enough noise for the two of you, howling in delight at the way your poor walls all but crush him in an attempt to adapt to the brute size just forced into them. You can feel him perfectly hilted into you, cockheads kissing as deep into you as they possibly can. It's an indescribable fullness that has the two of you stunted.
" Oh gods fffuck- Hahhn I'm all in. " He mumbles amidst desperate noises. " Mmn feels so good so good- I knew it'd be perfect- Love you angel. "
Both lengths throb inside you. You couldn't respond even if you wanted to.
Although you can very well sense Breg trying to rock against you minutely, he keeps his promise, studying your overwhelmed features and giving you time to welcome him properly. There's some pain, you won't lie, but it's slowly ebbing into something forgettable. The pale monster's sweet cooing and trilling help steady you as he licks your throat and lets his teeth deform slightly to place a loving bite on your shoulder.
Eventually, the breeder shifts and looks down at where the two of you are joined, finding imprints of his lengths in you. His grin is so wide and self-satisfied it looks borderline manic. A large hand comes to palp at the bump in your lower abdomen, but the sensation causes your legs to twitch and you bat his arm away.
Breg whines, a trail of drool slipping down his chin to drip onto your skin. " Can- Can I start? "
Your eyes widen a little, though you nod and take a deep breath. " G-Gentle. "
And that's all it takes.
The monster admittedly has a bit of trouble moving at first, the drag of his cocks inside you bordering on painful until fireworks start firing in your brain from all the spots he has no choice but to stimulate with every minuscule motion. The first moan you let out, throaty and helpless, makes him shiver. Wetness gradually builds, helping along with what's left of the lube, and pretty soon Breg's huffing with every thrust, making noises that almost concern you and visibly sweating. You know he's doing his best to behave right now, and you appreciate it, because both at once is... An experience.
" Ah- Ghn so full- " You choke when he fills you out again, causing the breeder to wag his tail slightly and respond with shorter, faster bursts of movement.
" Does it feel good? " He pants.
" Y- Yeah. " Putting it lightly. Your breath hitches and you cling to his arms for support, unable to help the fluttering of your pussy as you get used to this brand new size.
" Angel... " He begins, in a tone you already know means he's going to ask for something. " Hhn- I know you said gentle but... "
He bucks his hips suddenly, the two of you crying out together, pleasure and shock.
" Breg! "
" B- But I know you like it rough! " He stresses. " You clamp around me so hard, it's so hot- " Your face burns. " Come on... Just this time? "
It's not going to be "just this time", obviously.
When you don't say anything, the breeder hums and drapes over you again, legs readjusting so he can plunge somehow even deeper into you now. And with no hesitation, Breg starts well and truly railing into you.
" AH! HN- Breg?! "
You have to hold onto his neck and back, each desperate slam of his thighs on yours digging his softly barbed cocks so far up into your hole he jostles you forward. But you can't deny that it's making your eyes glaze in rabid animal pleasure, mouth opening and hips grinding back onto him as much as they can, the sloppy noise of his every slam filling you with a gross sense of glee.
You don't like to admit it, but you love being under Breg. It makes you feel small in a very arousing way, trapped under his strength, his smell, hearing how fast he breathes for you, how much his body strains to breed you stupid even if the effort is always pointless in the end. You like that he's always just as enthusiastic, that he always fucks you like it's the last time he's going to get to do it.
" S- See? " He groans, looking down at your flushed, probably disheveled face. " I know you like it- I can smell it. " And just to accentuate the point, there's a snort-like sniff when he dips his head into the crook of your neck, rising goosebumps everywhere. " Gghn- I'm- I'm not going to last too long... "
That startles you a little. Breg's always had surprising stamina. Sure, the first time he penetrated you was a bit short, but he had never been with a human before. Still, this puts an incredulous smile on your face. " R- Really? "
" Yeah- " His words melt into slurred moans, previously speedy motions now interspersed by hard grinds that have your eyes rolling slightly. " 'M sorry, you're so good- Sorry. "
" It's- It's fine. " It's hotter than it should be.
" My mate is so perfect- " He growls in-between sharp, jutting thrusts. " So nice to me- " The whimper on the edge of his voice is more than a good tell of how close he is. " I'm so lucky I get to ahhn- Put both in! "
Even if he doesn't recognize it, Breg has a penchant for this very specific type of dirty talk that makes your brain pop and crackle in a hormone-fueled static, and before you can even beg him to fill you with cum, he fucks into your stretched cunt with three dizzying pistons before flexing and coming so hard you can feel it shoot into crevices you didn't even know you had.
It's too much for such a small space, coating both you and him before it has no choice but to squeeze out of you in depraved spurts. Even if you wanted to hear Breg's rattle of ecstasy, you were too lost in your own orgasm to do so, making something akin to a desperate, sobbing mewl at the overload of sensations.
When you can focus minimally, the breeder is planting amorous kisses everywhere on your upper body, still buried hot and wet inside you. His whole face is flushed blue and he's never looked giddier, shuddering as another glob of seed escapes around his still hard cocks.
" Thank you so much, angel. I loved it! "
Oh, you can tell. " ... Don't mention it. "
Breg chirps. " Tell me when you're ready to go again. "
Why are you even surprised...
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tarjapearce · 4 days
Text
Like Me Pt. 2
Tarzan! Miguel O'Hara x Scientist ! Reader
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Art by Rendraws21 on X
WARNINGS: Mildly suggestive, power dynamics, emotional distress, endangering situations, Kraven being an asshole.
Summary: Your savior proves himself to be very much real.
A|N: Hope you like! I know you're waiting smut. Just bare with it! ;w; Reblogs and feedback are always welcome ❤️
Previous Miguelverse Main Masterlist
Kraven didn't dally and ordered the camp to be settled. The spot was rather good. A prime source of water and food next to you all, soil sturdy and perfect for withstanding the hard hammering of the tools that nailed the bases for the tents.
And after hours of bickering, russian cursing, more work and the crew doctor patching your arm up, the camp was settled and food served.
Each bite not only felt heavenly, but was scarfed down. You couldn't care less if Peter looked your way, mildly disgusted and surprised of your manners, or rather the lack of them while eating.
It was the least you deserved after surviving a ship sinking, getting lost in the jungle, being chased by a giant Jaguar and a man that left more questions than answers.
Who was he? More important, How had he survived all these years on his own?
After a second plate and extra slices of bread, one of the men approached and announced the readiness of your tent. One of the things you asked in your contract. To have your own, cause as much as you trusted Peter, there was nothing better than to have your own space and privacy in the midst of an unhealthy amount of testosterone surrounding you.
"We've eaten, replenished, and blah blah. What happened?" Peter mumbled while picking his and your plate together.
You shook your head softly as another crew member passed by. You didn't trust them, and Kraven had proved to be unpredictable.
One minute he cared for his crew and the other he was leaving you to fend for yourselves. But as long as you did your job, you wouldn't be part of the russian's guessing dangerous games.
"Kraven said we'd have to make do with the little tools we have. He spent a good time of the day trying to get some signal for the radio."
"Any luck?"
"None so far." Peter mumbled as he took your things inside your tent.
A hammock was the bed, a few boxes and other storage things were placed in a corner. A chalkboard and your investigation books in another corner and against all odds, a little broken mirror that acted as a poor attempt of a vanity ontop of another wooden box. Your hairbrush rested next to it. Whoever arranged it, at least had the consideration to make it as comfortable looking as possible.
In total, you had a couple of shirts and skirts left to use. The rest remained on the sea, floating and drifting away with unknown course.
Peter excused to go change himself and you seized the chance to do the same. Catching a cold in the jungle wasn't in your priorities list. Not with reduced medicine and victuals.
You put on a dry set and combed your hair out as much as you could. Peter joined you a couple of minutes later.
The fire cracked and sparked alive as the crew surrounded it. The day had been chaotic at best and everyone tried to soothe the nerves in their own way. Some drank, others sang, others talked and soon Kraven joined.
Others simply went to sleep. Too tired to keep up after a well deserved meal.
"So..." Peter started while sitting before you, a rag and some tubs on his hands. He was cleaning the remaining pieces of your equipment.
"Promise me you won't talk to anyone about this. And I mean it, Parker."
"I'm a geologist, not a snitch."
"I'm... kinda scared of what might happen if Kraven finds out"
"Now you're scaring me.  What happened back there?"
"I know... who killed the beast Kraven is skinning." A gulp rolled down your throat upon remembering the lurid scene displaying before your eyes
"Wait... you said, who?"
A nod from you and Peter paled.
"We're not alone, that's for sure."
Peter rubbed his hands against his face, an exasperated groan escaped him.
"He's taller than Kraven."
"Bullshit." Peter mumbled almost immediate, surprised at your words.
"I'm not bullshittin' you Parker!" You had to hush your voice and soon grabbed a sketch notebook and begun tracing and drawing.
"He's freaking tall, long hair and he's naked. Well, not naked but a loincloth is everything but clothes if you think about it."
Peter frowned suspiciously as his hand pressed on your skin, to see if your body temperature had increased. Jungle fever was one of the worst things a human could suffer when away from their homeland. Cause he refused to believe anything of the nonsense that came out of your mouth was true.
A man taller than Sergei? Impossible. He was tall, but Sergei had been one of the tallest and well built men he had ever came across with.
"What are you doing?" You pushed his hands away and frowned.
"I'm sorry, I do want to believe you but.."
"I'm telling you the truth, Pete! He had... This... red hue on his eyes and fangs!"
"Fangs?" The incredulity in Peter couldn't be hidden the more he listened to your apparent rave.
"He's fucking strong, Pete. He was holding that beast by his tail! and then fought body to body against it! and He's so damn touchy. No respect for personal space!."
"And what? He smashed the jaguar to death and then kissed you?"
"Yes!" You nodded but quickly frowned when Peter tittered on his seat, unable to keep the mirth away.
"Why are you laughing?!"
"I'm sorry. You know we've been friends since college, but you seriously can't expect me to believe that, Dally."
A short for Dalhberg. The surname that put your name out in the researcher's map in London, upon discovering and naming another type of daisy and named it after you. The Dalhberg Daisy.
"You believe in the freaking Queen but refuse to believe in this?"
"I believe in the Queen's acquisitive power, nothing else. Cause I've seen it!" He explained, skeptical.
You showed him the sketch and shoved it to his hands.
"Look at that! That's exactly how he looks like!"
Peter sighed and raked over his eyes on the semi-crumpled paper sheet. Sharp features, a strong jaw and deep eyes.
"Yeah, a haircut would make him look better though." he chuckled, "Look, I know it's been a long day for us... let's rest, ok? We've got another tomorrow."
With a frown you removed the sketchbook away and tossed it on the makeshift vanity.
"He's real." you pointed at the sketchbook
"Okay, okay. He's real. We can discuss it all tomorrow when we're less tired, alright?"  He held your shoulders, trying to ease your rising anger.
But you quickly removed his hands from you, hurt that your best friend didn't believe you. "Whatever. Goodnight."
Peter left with a defeated sigh and soon you cuddled in your hammock.
"I know he's real." With a huff, you pushed the pillow closer to your face, letting the day's weight to finally crash on you.
-----
The loud bangs of a gunshot echoed through the bright blue skies, frightening any local fauna that rested comfortably, like you, that nearly fell out the hammock from the initial jumpscare.
With a heavy exhale, and rub of your eyes you geared up for the day.
This time Kraven was thoughtful enough to give you a weapon. A small knife with enough sharp to slice and dice through anything weak enough to perish under the blade.
And soon everyone gathered to the morning structions. Kraven split up the crew in three parts. The first group of men would go to the beach to recover as much equipment as they could. The second group would be in charge to set up traps and hunt down for food. And the third one, meaning Peter, you, two more men and himself would go explore and study the jungle in order to gain any sort of information of new potential species.
You carried a small backpack, filled with your sketchbook, pencils, some essay and sample tubes and some snacks in case Kraven decided to return until dinner time.
And after a quick breakfast of oatmeal and fruits, everyone left.
Peter walked behind Sergei, guiding the group whenever the mercenary asked him to. You were in the middle as the other two men trailed with their guns behind.
Morning slowly poured into hours. Tortuous, running at the speed of a snail. Each breathing felt like adding more to the waiting, bringing your nerves to a much annoyed stance.
But it quickly melted away upon finding your first discovery.
The grass laid pressed in a circular pattern on the ground. The leaves were placed strategically, as if used as cushions in great amounts. A couple of fruit carcasses laid next to them. Discarded and forgotten.
"Look at that" The excitement in your voice beyond evident. You crouched to see if there was any other clues to your growing suspicion.
Kraven and Peter stopped upon you crouching to the floor.
"What is it?" Kraven pulled his gun from it's holster and walked over you.
"These are nests!"
"Nests?" His brow quirked and you nodded vigorously, to then count the spots. Around six in total.
"You know what that means? They live in packs! Gorillas live in packs!"
"About damn time we found something." Kraven nodded, pleased as he helped you up to then mark a spot in his map.
"Good job, Dalhberg."
Praised the mercenary before moving.
--
When the sun got high enough and Peter discovered some other findings like rare minerals, the group decided to take a break nearby a lake.
The five of you sat down and ate whatever thing you got left from breakfast.
Once you were done, you took your backpack, pencil and sketchbook with you.
"Where are you going?" Kraven grumbled after gulping down the water from his canteen.
"Saw some specimens of plants Id like to register. Won't take long."
"You better return as soon as possible, understood?"
The mercenary warned and you nodded while walking away from the tree. Excited to partake in the things you were brought and paid to do.
Your first specimen was a moss plant, then a new type of orchid. A fish, some birds and more plants. Even though you studied everything alive, the plants were your speciality.
You put the little backpack in a a nearby trunk as you sat down to draw yet another orchid. The place seemed flooding with them.
Engrossed beyond wits to notice you had drifted off a bit too far from the group and a little too late a baboon sniffing and ransacking your backpack.
"H-Hey! Hey! -The baboon took the backpack away, excited and driven by the tinkling within "Get back here!"
The animal hopped on the trees before you could catch it, with graceful and effortless agility, to finally stop to a sturdy looking and serpent-like shaped trunk above the middle of a swamp.
As much as you wanted to let the monkey get away with it all, you didn't want to face Kraven's anger for losing the last bit of equipment and delay the investigation. You didn't know when the next ship would arrive. None did actually.
It's hoots and chirping only increased the more things he pulled out of your backpack. The tubs shattered as they fell off.
"Stop it!" you shrieked while hopping onto the trunk with wobbly and uneven steps.
The monkey hooted louder until it started shrieking, as if mocking you whenever your balance failed and you were forced to crawl over the top.
"God, I swear... if I catch you, I'm so making an article on how annoying you are!"
The baboon just screeched at your silly threat once more before leaving your backpack pending from a twig as he jumped way through the stretched branches that favored him like open arms, with your bag of seeds.
Your breath hitched when the trunk creaked and some cracking around the base perked up your ears.
Shit.
You couldn't stop and return crawling from where you came from, not when the backpack was oh so close to be reached and your nightmare to be over.
With a deep breath, you crawled closer and closer. Paused breaths turned controlled, but quickly grunted when the hem of your skirt stuck in a jagged branch.
"No, no" You whined and pulled away, the trunk creaked harder and you immediately hugged the trunk.
"Fuck, fuck, fuck-" with a firm yet calculated yank, you ripped the fabric away, freeing yourself although losing a good chunk of front coverage.
A thunderous crack made your breath hitch and you moved forward as the trunk stuttered midair. It was then your eyes actually considered the generous and dangerous distance from your position to the murky water. But the backpack dangling before you, edged you to take a risky decision.
Or you took the backpack and threw it on land, hoping to take the least damage as possible or jumping to that other branch to avoid falling to the water.
None of them happened as the tree dipped forward, and with a dying groan, the cracks widened, tearing the feeble base of the trunk, unable to support your weight any longer.
As in slow motion, you saw the murky water closer and closer and closer, until nothing but darkness swallowed you whole. Cold and muddy water hit you, suffocating your body with enraged water that fought hard to drown you.
Your hands were the only thing that made it out as they failed. The sub aquatic flora begun their tangling in your boots and legs, pulling you down.
Your lungs burned as some water seeped through, the backpack sunk deeper and deeper. Like a sacrifice in exchange of your life. Because a strong pair of tanned hands pulled you with a powerful yank by the forearm, out of the water before death and crocodiles owned it.
Your head too dizzy to actually understand what was happening. Your eyes could only see the landscape sliding smoothy underneath your feet, like if you were flying.
Am I dead? Dead people don't fly, do they?
You shrieked as soon as your eyes looked upwards. Powerful and solid thighs held tightly on the growing vines, that spurted from underneath the gigantic trees, as one of his hand took your arm gently to suddenly pull you up in the air and catch you in his arms.
Your instincts told you to hold onto him as the other survival mode blared with danger alarms. The massive wall of solid muscles he had for a body was warm, full of scars and plush hair that did nothing but welcome your dizzy head on his chest.
The man quirked a brow at your sudden state. He frowned and quickly got over the foliage of a tree, before the pouring rain trapped you both.
You were put with ease against the solid and definitely not rotting trunk, and your body lurched to the side to expell away the swallowed water, clearing your airways.
A firm slap from his hand made your lungs to finally get some air as you gasped and coughed, all the while he watched you curiously.
You were drenched, against a tree, clothes sticking way too intimately against your shivering body, breathing like you were a first born, raged and fast. Lungs burned less.
Eyes finally widened when recognizing the man before you. Some fresh scars littered his Greek-god type physique.
"T-Thank you." You mumbled through clattering teeth and forced yourself to take a deep inhale to control the rising anxiety.
He grunted and approached. One of his hands slid gently under your chin to take a hold of your cheek. Your head instinctively melted into his heavenly body heat, and your eyes dared to shut for a minute. Relishing in the irradiating warmth his calloused hands provided.
He's so warm.
As if sensing the good deed, the man rubbed his hands on your cold arms, mindful of the patches around your arm, a couple of times before going back up to your cheeks and neck.
You gasped as soon as his hands were placed on your chest. His hands gently palming your breast but quickly let them go upon feeling your hardened nipples. You quickly covered your chest
He watched his hands, as if inspecting them for any damage when he felt the hardened nub, to then return to your arms, prying them away from your chest.
"Wait!"
You shrieked and he took both of your wrists with one hand and hovered them above your head, squishing them against the tree, softly. His eyes raked and took in every feature of you, before stopping at your chest again.
Your breath hitched as he slid the other hand inside your shirt. Cheeks turned impossibly warmer when he took one of your breasts and pulled it out of their confinements.
He examinated the perky mound with puppy wonder-like curiosity and then looked down his own chest. He frowned. His didn't swell like yours did.
"Wh-What are you doi-" you bit your lip as he poked your nipple, sniffed it and licked it. Earning a short mewl from you.
The sound startled him and he let you go.
"T- That's not a polite thing to do!" 
You quickly put the breast back and swung your hand to slap him. You had to admit his reflexes were something else cause it caught it before it collided against his face.
"How dare you?!" You struggled to let your hand go, but stopped your outburst when his eyes watched your hands and brought them before his ever curious face.
His own hand reached up, and placed itself before yours, comparing the stretched and long digits against your smaller ones. They weren't the same size, that was much true, but the texture and lines he had were the same on yours.
His eyes shone brighter than any  bewilderment. His mind had finally clicked together at the sudden epiphany that flooded his brain.
You were like him.
He pursed his lips before letting out an excited grunt. He backed away to create enough space for his arms to move freely.
He pointed to himself and spoke with the deepest yet excited voice he could manage.
"Miguel."
Your eyes went wide and you approached. He tried again while pointing at his chest.
"Mi guel."
"Miguel." His nose flared proudly and his throat grunted happily.
"Oh! I see!"
His ears perked up upon hearing your name.
"OhIsee!" He repeated.
But you quickly corrected him, with your name as you pointed to yourself and then called his name as you pointed at him.
A buttery crawl rolled down your spine as he mumbled your name.
"Exactly." you smiled.
He cupped your face again and mumbled your name once more. However, the sound of a gunshot tearing through the skies disrupted his attention from you and stood at the edge of the branch.
"Kraven" You gasped. Completely forgetting about him and the group.
Oh no...
Trouble was a tiny word of the deep neck shit you were into. Another shot rippled through, frightening the birds in the ratio.
"Kraven!" He repeated, excited.
Extraordinary. There wasn't any word to describe him better. He took you back, trapping you in between his muscular thighs and swinging through vines.
The more you approached the camp, the clearer you saw this massive black and brown spots moving away from the settlement.
Your hearth thumped with violence upon finally standing before a small group of gorillas, sniffing and hooting softly upon seeing Miguel.
Your savior wasted no time in pulling you closer to them. You shook your head, rightfully frightened.
"No, no, no wait!"
The gorillas huffed to then sniff your head, your clothes. Some even pulled at your hair softly, others examinated the clothes you were in.
Another gunshot echoed closely this time and it was loud enough to spook out the beasts out that pulled Miguel with them. You could only watch him, wide eyed, expectant. But he left.
"Miguel..."
----
Kraven wasn't one for losing his temper with women. But you, had the annoying ability to make his patiece turn to dust in the least opportunes of moments.
"I asked you, where the fuck have you been?!"
He dragged you to the center of the crew and threw you on the floor.
"I told you, I almost drowned! Why do you think I'm like this?!"
Kraven spat a few words in his native language under his breath and grunted
"You lost your equipment, didn't you?"
"I... I tried to get it back but I almost drown in the swamp, Sergei!" you explained with nothing but the truth
"You can't swim, don't you bullshit me.!"
"I'm telling you the truth!"
"Then how you survived!?"
Peter frowned as he looked at you.
"I was saved. Ok? A man saved me!"
"A man?"
"He's... Not like us. He's taller than you and he saved me!" you kept pressing, hoping the angered mercenary understood that you didn't do anything in purpose to upset him.
"He knows how to swing through the vines! And dropped me here! His name is Miguel. "
Everyone stared with derision at you and Peter seemed concerned you stuck with your story so bad to the point of risking your own neck and reputation.
Kraven' brows furrowed into a scowl and soon he pulled his revolver out and pointed at you.
Your face turned to panic, as your hands rose shakily.
"A savage named Miguel helped you?"
"He did! Otherwise you'd still be looking for me."
Kraven snorted without removing the gun's aim from your body.
"Funny you think I'd waste my resources to look up for a stupid woman like you."
"Please, you have to believe me! I saw gorillas around the camp!"
Kraven removed the safety pin from the revolver, as if peeved you'd waste his time and resources into being an idiot and not doing your work as he required.
Time was ticking and he still had no news, and for you to be fantasizing about savages and doing stupid things such as endangering yourself had proved you weren't reliable.
"You're not reliable, anymore, Dahlberg."
"No! Sergei listen to me-"
He pointed the gun once more to you "I can't keep unreliable people within my crew."
"I'm not lying!" You pleaded with all your might and tears in your eyes, "Miguel is-"
Before Sergei could push the tip of his revolver on your head and shoot, the earth underneath rumbled, as Miguel fell in between you.
Real.
Kraven stepped back as the imaginary savage was now fully standing before him. His head had to crane up to meet his burning ember eyes.
Miguel's lips snarled at him, showing his fangs and beating his chest. A clear challenge for him to fight him.
A collective round of gasps echoed through the men, but when Miguel bared his teeth, they all pulled their guns and pointed at him
"Stop!" You yelled and quickly scrambled to your feet to take Miguel's hand and shake your head with determination.
"Don't hurt him!"
Peter immediately got himself before you and rose his arms, showing he was no armed.
"I'm sure we can reach an agreement here without filling eachother with bullets, gentlemen"
"Shut up, Parker!" Sergei seethed and with a deep flare of his nose, pointed the gun at Miguel again, but Peter grabbed the weapon and the shot tore through the air again.
"Kraven" Miguel grumbled at the gun shot sound.
Said mercenary could only watch him, nonplussed for a moment. While you, again, stood your ground before the behemoth of a man. Attempting your best at protecting him.
"Have... we met before?" Kravinoff spoke confused.
"I told you he could speak! And he is real!"
Miguel remained glued at your side. Everyone slowly put their weapons down as Kraven approached to take a proper look at Miguel, fascinated by his sheer size and build.
Peter had to admit, that it was the last time he'd ever doubt your words.
"You said you had seen gorillas?"
Again, you nodded and Miguel repeated the word.
"Miguel knows them. He could help us."
"Help us? The man barely understand us, but... It's better than nothing I suppose."
Sergei scrunched his face in confusion as Miguel took strands of your hair and sniffed them, his senses awakening in pure adrenaline. Throat grunted approvingly.
"Yeah... kind of understand the personal space thing now." Peter cleared his throat behind you. The rest kept looking to see but quickly were dismissed by their leader.
"Oh, shut up." You grumbled nervously as Miguel pulled your head to his chest once more, to listen to his powerful heartbeats.
"Yeah, it's very very nice." You chuckled nervously with a soft flush creeping your cheek.
"Nice." He repeated.
Kraven could only watch but if he was the link towards the gorillas, he'd seize the chance in every way he could.
"He's way smarter than you think."
"We're running against time, how would he understand us, Dhalberg?"
Miguel moved to inspect Kraven, mimicking his gestures effortlessly. Earning a giggle from you.
"Leave that to me."
-------
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im-poe-dameron · 4 months
Text
THE HEART OF A SHIP
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a/n: this fic is a result of wine and rewatching the force awakens. honestly my brain always short circuits whenever oscar isaac comes on screen. so i had to do something. it was meant to be small, but i literally couldn't stop writing so it became this. it's an idea that has been lingering in my head for awhile, i just had to let it simmer for a bit. and now it's fully cooked.
summary: you and poe were inevitable. two asteroids set on a course to crash into one another. a celestial event that would happen whether you wanted it or not. you just never expected it to happen so soon.
word count: 3.4k+
pairing: poe dameron x f!reader
warnings: EXPLICIT SO MINORS DNI, alcohol consumption, love confessions sort of??, poe being romantic as fuck, p in v sex, guided masturbation, biting, sex in an x-wing, sex in a public place, unedited but we live and die by the fucking pen.
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Intoxicating.
That was the only way you’d describe him. The only word that ever did him justice. He was the human embodiment of an Antakarian Fire Dancer. You got hammered on it one year after two glasses of the amber liquid, proceeding to forget half the night yet eager for more. Nothing could describe the man before you better. It simply wouldn’t do him justice. He was the itch beneath your skin that you could never satisfy, the reason you stood there now.
A glass of that amber liquid in both hands.
He’d disappeared from the celebration. An hour in from congratulations and happy faces, you watched him leave when no one was looking. And you did nothing to stop it. You knew he wasn’t one to relish in the joys of battle well done. Always intent on focusing towards the next thing—the next fight. It’s how you knew Leia would make him General, why he was so good at leading, at keeping the people he loved safe.
“Leaving without saying goodbye is rude, you know.”
He jumped slightly where he stood, his back to you, a holopad in one hand and a tool in the other. Of course he’d be here, fixing his X-Wing in silence. His own little ritual. You couldn’t count how many times you found him here after a fight, finalizing the last few checks before he caught some sleep. If he slept at all. Poe always seemed to be on the move no matter the time of day—a constant in the Resistance even when everyone else seemed to have lost faith.
“I said goodbye,” he joked, head turning slightly to see you come around, the holopad getting traded for a glass. “Just couldn’t see you in the crowd.”
You smiled. “You’re a shit liar Dameron.”
“I know.” He took a sip, winced, and laughed—the sound practically lighting you up inside. Igniting you like a fucking lightsaber.
“What’s the damage report?” 
“Nothing I can’t fix.” He glanced back at the scraped up hunk of metal he loved more than anything. The amount of care he put into keeping her going was admirable—if a little insane at times.
But he was right. The damage was nothing he couldn’t fix.
“Are you sure you don’t need help?” The smile still played on your lips, eyes alight and aiming to start something you wanted him to finish.
Poe caught onto it quicker than you expected. He could see it before you followed him out of the celebration. A promise that lingered in the air from months of longing looks and timid words. Something inevitable and real. So much so that you were willing to bet everything that he felt exactly the same way you did.
You wanted each other. That was clear from day one. But doing something about it became difficult when war was a constant and lives were put in peril on the daily. Poe didn’t want to leave you broken beyond repair if he never made it back. Just as you didn’t want to do the same to him.
The fucked up thing about it though was Poe would mourn you either way. He’d live his life half a man if you never graced him with your presence again. If you weren’t around to smile at him from across rooms and laugh at his shitty jokes. He was pretty sure he’d already started. Being away from you was like a poison he constantly had to take, a pain he didn’t want to endure. And if it were up to him…he’d choose you every time.
No matter the consequences.
“You ever been in an X-Wing before?” he asked, trying to see past the bits and pieces of the ache that hurt you both.
You rolled your eyes and Poe felt his chest tighten. “You know I haven’t. I’m not pilot material.”
“Sounds like bantha shit to me starlight.”
The name you’d heard so many times before echoed differently to you now. You wanted to break through its meaning and find the promise within. The antidote to this fucking ache that stuck to your chest. You wanted to rip it out and grind it up. You wanted to finally take what you desired, relish in the feel of calling him yours without the pain of knowing what came next. The both of you were trying to save your emotions—protect yourselves—but there was no use.
Poe had found a home in your heart and he was there to stay.
“Come with me.”
When it came to him you had no choice but to listen, following dutifully behind in a haze of want. He climbed up the ladder on the side of his ship, plopping down into the seat with the grace of a pilot who’d done it a million times before. The movement now muscle memory at this point. Whereas you clambered up—buzzed on one drink—nearly falling into the cockpit. He grabbed your arm at the last minute, helping you slowly maneuver your way in, until you were perched on this lap.
The seat was barely big enough to fit him let alone you as well. And yet…you’d never felt more comfortable. He pulled you back slightly, hands pressed to your hips, chest snugly placed against your back. With every intake and exhale of breath, you felt him move. Felt his body shift. If you focused, you knew you would be able to feel his heartbeat. The rhythmic thump you’d grown accustomed to.
“Now—“ He precariously balanced his glass on the dash. “Your hands go here.” Covering your hands with his, he showed you how he’d position himself if he were flying. The cold touch of the buttons and knobs beneath your fingers sent electricity up your spine. “These are to shoot.” Another shift. “And this is to aim.”
You sucked in a breath. “Seems complicated.”
“Not at all.” His fingers slid up your arm, chin coming to rest on your shoulder. You tried to remember how to take a single breath. “You just have to understand how the ship works. How she moves, what she likes.”
Your breath hitched, body leaning into him more, and finally you felt it. The wall holding both of you back crumbled to the ground. All that remained now was the will to finally do something about it. So you let his hands guide you, watching in anticipation as they moved to your own body, pressing your palms into your stomach.
“There’s always a heart of a ship,” he murmured, moving your hand down. “A pilot guiding the way.”
“Poe…”
"After all, we've got to guide the ship back home." A soft whimper left your lips, your nails digging into the meat of your thighs to contain yourself. If the cockpit of his ship wasn't so fucking small, you had no doubt you'd be spread on his lap, lips connected to his already.
He grinned, his lips brushing across the back of your neck. “For me…” He stopped right above the hem of your pants, your fingers aching to finally delve down further. “That’s always been you.”
The alcohol had all but burned out of your system from how warm you were. His touch guiding yours seemed to have lit something in the base of your stomach, causing it to spread outwards. And you needed more. Your head fell back against his shoulder, eyes fluttering shut as he pressed your hand beneath the coarse fabric of your pants. The feeling of him cupping your mound—using you all the while—sent a jolt across your body; a soft moan falling free past your lips.
“Maker starlight,” he said, his voice hoarse with desire. “You’re so fucking wet.”
He wasn't wrong. You could feel yourself dripping the longer he spoke, his words affecting you more than you anticipated. Ever since you first met, Poe always held a power over you. A reminder that no matter how many times you tried to rid yourself of him, no matter what you did...he would remain burned into your soul. He'd be part of you until you drew your final breath in this galaxy.
"It's cause of you," you gasped, your fingers and his sliding through your slick. Running along the lips of your cunt, skimming past your clit entirely. "Oh—"
The scrape of his teeth along your neck nearly did you in entirely, the plea hanging off the tip of your tongue in anticipation. He was toying with you. Playing you like a fucking instrument and listening to your melody. Drowning in the sounds you made—the ones he dreamed of. If there was a life after this, a fated place he could go to rest, he'd want it to be here. Crammed into this cockpit with you on his lap, the feel of you sliding through his fingers and the echo of your voice breathing his name sweeter than the alcohol you had handed him earlier.
Poe would do whatever he could to make this moment last just a minute longer.
"Need you."
He kissed the junction where your neck and shoulder met, fingers still guiding yours through your own heat. "I know you do starlight. But you're gonna cum for me like this first." Your sweet little gasp ripped him a part. He had to squeeze his eyes shut to stave off nearly coming in his pants. "Let me guide you."
You nodded and spread your legs as wide as they could go in the cramped space. It wasn't very far, nor did it give him space to do what he really wanted to do to you, but it would have to do for now. The noise of the celebration in the distance only grew louder as people consumed more alcohol, the joy bleeding into the air. But you couldn't give a shit at that moment about why they were happy, or even what occurred before today.
You were lost to the depths that Poe pulled you into.
Heat spilled between your fingertips, a sticky mess starting between the two of you, but that seemed to only drive him forward. He pressed down, sliding your fingers into you with ease, his delving in right beside you—stretching you in a way that had your back arching. Wrapped his arm around your waist, he kept you still, his chin set on your shoulder and chest heaving with controlled breaths. A way for him to keep the last bits of his sanity as he felt your walls clamp around his fingers.
"Fuck baby," he grit between clenched teeth. "You really did need me huh?"
Nodding, you felt him press even further, fingers searching for something.
"You're gonna make a mess on me." Pumping his hand, he felt your body shudder—your mouth falling open as a ragged moan echoed in the ship. "Gonna take me so easily. I'll slip right in."
You burned from the inside out. A searing heat pulling tight across your body until you could nothing but fall into it. There was no fighting against that aching bliss, no running from what you wanted, what you dreamed of. Poe was intent on breaking you apart right there on his lap, and he'd watch with a smile on his face as you spilled yourself between the rough pads of his fingers. As you made a fucking mess on his lap.
"C'mon baby," he muttered, curling his fingers forward and nudging against something blinding. You cried out, hand grasping at his wrist to either pull him away or keep him right there. You couldn't tell at this point. And he smiled. "Is that it?" Rubbing against the spongy patch along your walls, he felt your entire body lock up, a whimpered sob breaking from your chest. "Yeah. That's fucking it."
You tried to warn him, his name a garbled echo of nonsensical letters on your tongue. But he already knew. His hand sped up, practically pushing your fingers out of the way as he gave you everything you wanted. Poe was certain that he wanted this more than you, that deep down he needed to know that you came because of him. That he was capable of turning you into a sobbing mess.
The echo of his pained grunt was loud in your ears, his hips pressing up into you to relieve the pressure of need he felt, and that's what did it. The knowledge that he was as gone as you were. That he had always wanted you.
Your walls fluttered around his fingers, a splintered moan falling past your parted lips as the pleasure spilled over. And he buried his face into your neck, a broken sound of his own muffled by your warm skin. He fought against finishing, biting into your shoulder as he worked you through your release. Adamant to make this last for you—to drag you to the Maker and back with a sated smile on your face.
Eventually you couldn't take it anymore, pleasure bleeding into pain, and you dragged his hand away. A breathless sigh of his name shooting right to his cock.
Without knowing it you had broken him for anyone else. Obliterated his ability to ever see someone the way he saw you.
You and your beauty. Your ability to render him speechless, breathless, and at your fucking mercy. For so long he was the ship lost in space with no sense of direction to lead him back to something real, a purpose. But then you settled into his heart. You became his pilot, guiding him through the never-ending void of space. You kept him afloat even as the weight of the galaxy threatened to drag him down, happy to watch him crash and burn in as so many others had done before.
"That was new," you giggled, hand reaching back to run through his hair.
He smiled, his heart twisting in his chest and fingers still covered in your slick coming to grip at your hips. "To think..." Pressing your ass down against his hard cock, he felt the breath hitch in your chest. "We could have been doing this the whole time."
"W-What a loss," you breathed, that now familiar all encompassing need filling your veins once more.
As if he knew your body so well already, he began to pull at your pants, helping you strip yourself to the best of your ability. The soft clinking of his belt echoed loudly in the cockpit and for a moment you were sure that people in the distance could hear it. But that thought quickly left your mind the second you felt the hot skin of his cock pressing against your lower back—his precum wet and sticky now smeared against your skin. Saliva filled your mouth, the ache pulling at your chest, clawing its way to the surface.
You didn't simply want him. That was too small of a word to explain the feeling in your body. You breathed for him. You lived for him. Poe was the blood that streamed in your veins, the reason your heart beat the way it did. Because it beat for him.
"Say you want this," he grunted, grinding against your skin, his fingers digging in harder than before. Until blood nearly pricked at the surface.
"Yes." The word was out of your mouth before he could even finish speaking. "Maker, I've wanted this for so long."
A growl hit your ears, his nose pressed into your back as he lifted you slightly, and you felt like you would rip to shreds if he didn't hurry. The head of his cock pressed against your entrance, sliding into you with slippery ease. And you pressed back against him, desperate to feel him sink into you fully. To be stretched out around his cock. Poe choked on his breath when your warm heat encompassed his throbbing length so suddenly, nearly throwing him off the edge entirely.
"Fuck starlight. You're gonna have to give me a second."
Your lips curled up into a grin. "Yes, General."
For a moment Poe could only process the breaths he took, the word entering his already blank mind. It wasn't until a searing heat shot up his spine at the sound of his title leaving your lips, did he fully understand. His hips pushed up into you, forcing him to sink just a bit deeper. You clutched at the side of the ship, your eyes fluttering shut at the feeling. The position had him pressing right along your walls, the underside of his cock grinding blissfully against you.
"I used to think you had no idea." He pushed you up slightly until his cock was halfway out and he glanced down, moaning at the sight of him covered in your slick. Only to pull you back down hard. Your choked cry was like music to his ears. "Didn't know what you do to me. How my whole fucking body belonged to you."
"Poe—"
He repeated the movement, smiling at the noises that came free. "But I was wrong."
A pressure quickly built in the base of your stomach, threatening to destroy you. And you chased it. Meeting his thrusts, you fucked yourself on his cock, hands pressed to the dash in front of you and back arched to find the perfect angle that made your toes curl in your boots. Ragged breaths filled the space, accompanied by broken moans and stunted grunts. Each one louder than the last as you both took and took and took, until the very edge of bliss mounted in your bodies.
He gripped the back of your neck, hand fisting at your hair as he pulled you back roughly against his chest. And you fell into it. Whining his name when he grinded up slowly, your walls clamped down around his cock. You could barely see straight through the burn of tears that glazed your eyes, a fucked out expression painted perfectly on your face. And Poe wished he could see you from where he was, catch a glimpse of the way your eyes rolled back, neck on display for him to bite.
"You know exactly what you do to me, starlight." His mouth fell open in a silent moan when his balls drew up painfully, cock throbbing along your walls. He quickly shoved his hand into your slick, fingers locating your clit with ease.
"Maker—" You heard him bite out your name like a prayer he couldn't get out fast enough. A plea for you to give him everything you had, everything that made you who you were. "I'm— Fuck I-I'm—"
"Yes," he groaned, using his other hand to cup your chin and pull your lips to his. Finally kissing you after years of dreaming it would happen. "Fucking give it to me baby."
His tongue licked into your mouth, swallowing every sound you made with ease. The feel of his lips against yours shoved you towards your release. A muffled cry of his name echoing in his mouth as your body went taut, thighs quaking as you gushed on his cock. He choked, mouth open and panting against yours, following you instantly and spilling into your cunt—filling you until you were sure it was dripping out of you and gathering at the base of him.
"Yours," he sighed against your lips, thumb running along the top of your cheek. "'M yours."
The twist of your heart brought you down from your high, your eyes fluttering open as he stared at your kiss swollen lips, the way his spit smeared along your bottom one. You expected him to take it back once he slipped out of you. Surely this was nothing but a dream, a moment in time that may never happen again. But in his eyes you saw devotion. You saw the inevitable future that was always bound to happen.
"Me too."
He smiled, nose brushing against yours. "Guess we're stuck with each other starlight."
"That doesn't sound too bad to me, General."
He tsked under his breath, fingers coming to grip your chin—brown eyes flashing up to meet your gaze. "You're causing trouble."
You grinned, grinding on his softened cock that was still buried deep in you. "And if I am?"
The feeling of his cock twitching inside you, slowly growing hard with interest. "Hands on the controls baby." He nipped at your bottom lip. "You know what to do."
A soft flutter filled your stomach as you followed his direction. Taking the lead in a dance that you were now familiar with. With Poe everything came with ease, as if you'd gone through it with him hundreds of times over. And guiding him home was just the beginning.
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angelltheninth · 4 months
Note
Nsfw degradation with Leona Kingscholar?
He'd be so good at it too.
Pairing: Leona Kingscholar x Fem!Reader
Tags: nsfw, smut, rough sex, degradation kink, power imbalance, clamming bites, dom!Leona, sub!Reader
Word count: 0.6k
A/N: I can't wait for the anime, I think people will either love him or hate him.
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You knew the reason behind the soon to be King summoning you into his bedroom. It was the same as any other night, his face holding the same smile and his eyes full of lust. He was already hard which left you thinking how long he'd been touching himself before he asked for you.
You never needed to ask what he wanted, it was always your body, your voice, your company. It was flattering in a way that out of everyone he always asked for you. At this point why wouldn't he? You were clearly highly compatible and you were all too happy to lay in his soft bed and spread your legs in invitation.
"Ah you couldn't wait to get my cock in you could you, slut?" He barked out in cocky laughter while sliding in. "This pussy must have been very lonely without me. But it's what you get for touching yourself without my permission. Did those other ladies tell you how hard I fucked them? Didn't you wish it was you?"
You moaned as he began moving in and out, the loud smacking sounds beginning to echo in the room. "I won't do it again. I promise I'll be good from now on."
"I don't think a little slut like you can keep her hands to herself." Leona let his tail pass over your hip, the soft fluff tickling you and making you wiggle your hips. He pushed forward, cock throbbing against your inner walls. "Think I'll have to make sure you have no reason to touch yourself." He grinned, showing his sharp fangs to you, "Even better I'll fuck you so hard that your won't be able to take being touched afterwards."
Your legs wrapped around his hips, locked around him to pull him closer. Leona licked across your neck, a gesture you've caught him doing before when he was about to hit his peak. But this time was a little different then others, his fangs started pushing against your neck and before you could question him you felt them pierce skin, delivering bolt of pain.
Moments later a new feeling hit, just as intense.
In your confusion you almost didn't notice that he was till fucking you, still driving his cock deep into your cunt, hammering at your inner walls until they started pulsing around him. Your hips jolted upwards uncontrollably as you left your own mark on him, the deep scratches of your nails across his back.
"You belong to me now. I'm the only one who gets to enjoy this pretty body of yours from now on. Do you understand what that means for you?" He pulled out fast, his cum dripping from your pussy, his cock completely covered in the sticky white fluid. He sat back and leaned on his hands, looking at you with expectance. When you didn't seem to get it he pointed down to his still hard cock. "It means you do what I say, when I say it, and in return I'll fuck you until you go stupid from my cock."
His hand wrapped around your ankle and pulled you down towards him. "Does that mean you won't call other women anymore?" Your heart dared to flutter with the hope of being his only woman from now on.
"That depends on how good of a job you do. Or are you so selfish that you'd leave your future King unsatisfied?" Leona taunted and watched as your haze seemed to clear quit fast after that. You scrambled to sit in his lap, "You'll make for such a pretty fucktoy." He praised and lifted his hands to cup your tits, lightly massaging them.
You placed your hands on his shoulders and aligned with his cock, teasing yourself with it's tip. "I'll be anything you want. I'll be all yours." Leona's eyes locked onto the bitemark, he smirked as if knowing something he wasn't yet letting on. Whatever it was it could wait until you milked every drop of cum out of his hard cock.
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ooffmlsorry · 5 months
Text
Bringing Law Home for a Family Holiday
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Readers' Note: Reader has a large and generally good but overbearing family. Only happy things in this, little to no angst!
A/N: Every holiday I get struck with the desire to write my latest blorbo coming home with their s/o for the holidays. I don't have time to crack out 10-15k words so this is probs gonna be more stream of consciousness but it'll get the point across.
I've been imagining how tense the travel to Law's s/o's house is because God forbid y'all be late because Law wants to make a good impression no matter how many times you explain it's a very loose 4 p.m. arrival time.
You've been dating for long enough that you think it's reasonable for him to meet your family (that was enough to make Law's heart flutter and then start hammering...could it be you're just as serious about him as he is about you?)
"My aunt showed up at noon and my cousin's probably not going to be here until after dark, really it's fine!" You'd insist. "Besides, the people that show up on time are the ones that end up having to go back out because someone forgot something!"
And of course Law would say "that's fine." With a such a stubborn and determined tone. Being on time or a few minutes early is better than being late! Suddenly your man is a rule follower! 🤭Suddenly you can picture Law as he was a kid studious and button-ed up in his little doctor's uniform. It's almost kind of cute if he wasn't so nervous.
The closest thing to family Law has is Bepo, Shachi and Penguin. Not since the Donquixote family has Law had anything to do with that word and he's so nervous he feels sick. For Law this translate to acting like he has the world's biggest cactus shoved up his ass, and you know that so you try not to take his coolness personally.
Holding his hand helps a little though. You ignore how shaky and sweaty it is.
He's feeling a lot of big feelings right now, poor guy.
He insisted on you giving him a "family tree" when he realized how big your family is and a list of things not to accidentally mention or do. He's been studying it for days, re-reading it over and over obsessively.
The fact that he's a pirate is fine, which takes a lot of pressure off. You come from a family full of pirates, so you swear Law will fit right in. Although you warn him your grandfather's probably going to start reminiscing about how he knew Gol D. Roger as a kid (which no one knows if that's actually true) and ranting about the young pirates these days.
You'd walk up to your family home high on a hill over looking the sea. From several yards away you can already hear music. You realize as you get closer it's more like you're dragging Law more than he's walking with you.
It's subconscious lol. I promise you he's not doing it on purpose. As soon as you notice it he speaks, "I'm fine."
Poor Traffy is so pale!
His tone dares you to question him, almost as if to actually say "I'm fine, if I wasn't I wouldn't be here Y/N. Please trust me to be honest with you about how I'm feeling." But that's a lot of words for someone who's mouth is cotton dry. He's trying his best, so you give him a quick kiss on the cheek for courage and walk up to the house together.
The first thing your family comments on when you open the door is how early you are despite the fact that it's three minutes to 4:00.
"We weren't expecting Y/N for another hour!" Your aunt winks at Law and nudges him, no introduction, no nothing, and says "you must really be something special if you can get them here to early!"
Despite Law's best efforts, having one of your family members immediately point out his supposed specialness to you makes blush and stutter.
It doesn't matter how awkward his no response of blinking at your aunt was because she's already gone flitting around with an arm full of what your family calls "the good plates."
You pull Law down to whisper in his ear, "told you we'd be early," you giggle.
It's not the nicest house, but it is big, and warm, and festive. Just standing in the doorway taking it in Law's struck with the remembrance of home. He tries to only focus on the present, not Swallow Island, Spider Miles, or even Flevance, your home is good..for today. But tomorrow he'll back at his home: the Polar Tang.
You introduce him to what little family is already there. Your heart squeezes at the way Law awkwardly waves at the baby your cousin's bouncing on his lap and the surprise that quickly turns into a soft smile that spreads across his lips when the baby coos back.
He meets your grandpa, who appraises him very officially. You swear to God Law's holding his breath as the stout man with a peg leg circles him with his arms behind his back. "Trafalgar Law, hmm..." he says very seriously. "You know back in my day pirates didn't all these tattoos to prove they were tough."
"I heard your day was quite a long time ago," Law says almost automatically. In for a penny, in for a pound, he doubles down, adding "sir" at the end.
That would be your boyfriend hehe. Too sharp for his own good.
Of course that's what your grandfather likes. He shakes Law's hand and pulls him into a crushing hug. Your grandpa promises later he's got words for him (ie. the shovel talk). It's a little disturbing how comfortable Law feels knowing he'll be threatened with an unspeakably awful death later. That's the most familiar thing that has happened all day. lol
But he knows the person he needs to impart the best impression on is your grandmother. You don't think you've ever seen Law so perfectly polite in your life....which makes your grandmother howl with laughter! "My ass whooping days are over, boy! Relax!" Her frail hands clutch her stomach as she laughs. She wipes a tear from her eyes, "I thought you said he was a pirate?!" She pats Law on the cheek like he's a sweet little boy (because at her old age 26 is a little boy) and gives it a squeeze. And because it's your grandma, he lets her.
You have to hide your laughter behind your hand.
"He's a sweet boy, Y/N," she says to you. "And so handsome! Where were all the good-looking men like him when I was at sea?"
"I killed 'em all!" Your grandpa yells across the house.
And just like that, Law's in your grandmother's good graces. Of course you knew he would be.
True to your word earlier, you get sent in to town to pick up a short list of last minute things. It's a nice moment to breathe. As soon as you're far enough from the house you wrap your arms around him and kiss him deeply.
"I'm so happy they like you," you say quietly once you come up for air. You don't tease him about how strange it is to see him hoping for someone's approval like you would in most circumstances. Instead you feel yourself melt, "I knew they would, but now you believe me?"
"They like me for now," he says because god forbid he go easy on himself.
"You're not as hard to love as you think you are, Law." You press another kiss to his lips.
(A/N: ooh chile lemme tell you, for saying that right there that man is going to romantically rail you within an inch of your life when y'all get back to the ship. That is the only way I can convey to you how much you saying that means to him. He's speechless.)
By time y'all get back there are a lot more people here and it's a lot louder. Your brother asks Law about a rash on elbow (at the dinner table no less, but hey these are pirates!) and he actually gives him advice.
Law meets your little cousins, who ask him a million questions including but not limited to:
"Why do you wears that funny looking hat?"
"Are you actually a surgeon?"
"Does getting a tattoo hurt?"
"Can you give me a tattoo?"
"How many Marines have you killed?"
"Are the Straw Hat Pirates really that strong?"
"Do you really have a polar bear on your ship?"
"Are you and Y/N ever gonna have a baby?"
To which Law responds:
"Who said it was funny looking?"
"Yeah."
"I don't know. I don't feel pain." you thought this man would take their questions seriously?
"Surgeons aren't allowed to do that. My hands will fall off if I do."
"Definitely more than you."
"As strong as they are stupid."
"Yeah, he's our navigator."
".........I think I heard someone calling you from the kitchen."
Your little cousins think "he's weird funny." He does "surgery" on the dolls your cousins offer up to him and thoroughly enjoy the weird monstrosities he creates. And Your moody teenage nephew deems Law "cool."
Your mom insists Law's too skinny for his own good and piles more food on his plate. "If you're going to survive out there you need some meat on your bones! I wanna see you here next year, Trafalgar."
Law almost chokes. Your mom already wants him back next year. He was expecting to have to get her approval somehow too, but she's accepted him immediately. "All I needed to know is if you make my little Y/N happy!" Your mom explains while hugging you, "And look how happy they are!"
And your old man, a pirate captain in his own right, several beers deep, slings his arm over Law's shoulder. "You're the one that's got that big ol' bounty, huh?" Before Law can fully answer, he continues on drunkenly, "that means you probably looted enough to cover your own wedding, right? Cause I'm sure's shit not." God bless Law for taking it with a grain of salt and taking him over to a couch. "That means you can marry 'em if ya want, as'long as I don' havta pay none. But if you break their heart I'll turn ya in myself...goddamn Marines...making me a traitor..." he says until his words turn into drunk muttering.
"That's your blessing in case you were wondering," your mom sighs. "I know you didn't ask but that was it. That man is fine with anything as long as he doesn't have to pay for it."
"You get my blessing because you helped clean up!" Your grandma pipes in. "Nothing more valuable than a man that knows how clean up after himself!"
I don't know how many times Law is rendered speechless for a moment. Was it that easy or was your family truly that accepting? In a handful of hours he's been completely welcomed and they want him to come back next year, to marry you? It's dizzying, but in a...hopeful way? Because...he wants it to happen too...if he's lucky enough to come back next year as your husband.
At the end of the night, you and Law are sent on your way with tons of food to bring back to Heart Pirates, and whether he likes it or not your mom and your grandma each press a kiss to Law's cheek.
You walk back down the hill together.
"It was good to see them again," you say. "Was that too much?"
"No," Law says. "I'm happy."
A/N: so yeah, I just had that bumbling around in my head today. I hope it was fluffy enough for ya! 😘
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laurbiek · 1 month
Text
as promised... something!
....::::**•°✾°•**::::........::::**•°✾°•**::::.... ....::::**•°✾°•**::::....
She hears the distinctive sound of the WhatsApp video call. Its weird when they're in different countries, the mode of communication changes time and time again to avoid crazy roaming charges. She's used to being able to call him quick using the regular phone app, to see if he wanted her to pick up dinner or to ask him nicely if he would switch her laundry out for her.
It's weird to start over on another app, it almost feels like they're starting another relationship. It feels so different. The inside jokes and frequent questions about the HBO password are nowhere to be found, in it's place is an empty blank page, waiting hopefully to be filled with the same.
She picks up her phone from the edge of the bed and swipes to answer the call. She looks at the time when she does, 10:04, almost five minutes late for their scheduled call.
At least that has stayed the same.
The slight hum of the highway plays in the background, and there Andrew sits. He looks tired, but not over consumed. It's a good kind of tired, like the kind you get after a good, but long day. More of a content-tired. His hair is in the messiest bun possible, obvious that he needed it out of the way and had lost all ability to care. He's got his glasses on, and Y/N remembers when he Facetimed her from the eye doctor to see if they looked good before he ordered them.
She internally thinks that they still do.
"Hey love", he finally speaks between bites of a sandwich. She looks down at the table the phone is propped on, and sees the distinctive red and white wrappings.
"Are you kidding, you went to Wawa without me..."
"I'm sorry! The band voted before we left Philly! I told them you'd be mad but they don't seem to care about my marriage so... I had to"
"This is a betrayal, of the highest degree. I can't picture a world where I can forgive you"
"If I could ship one across the Atlantic to you, you know I would"
There is a few beats of silence, they both know that statement means more than just a sandwich.
She finally breaks,
"How are you holding up?"
"Eh, not bad. I've not been this tired in a while but I'll get used to it soon. I've done it before."
"It's quiet in the bus, where is everyone else?"
"Sleeping"
"So everyone else is sleeping and you stayed up to call me?
He takes another bite of his sandwich before answering simply,
"Yeah."
She stares at him through the phone as he keeps eating like he doesn't understand the niceness of his actions, it's just second nature to him.
"Thank you," she says, voice full of genuine earnestness.
He doesn't respond to that, instead, he switches to another topic. He doesn't feel like he needs thanks for his actions, he would rather thank her for being around to call him.
"How are you at home, everything good?"
"Yeah, there was a dead bird in the yard yesterday, Elwood found it while we were playing, he almost picked it up but I got to him before he did. That's honestly the most exciting thing that's happened here since you left."
"But that's the joy of the country isn't it, that nothing ever happens?"
"Yeah. But I would rather do nothing with you than do nothing alone"
There's a long stretch of silence between them before Andy notices a tear fall down Y/N's cheek. There are no other signs of her sadness, no shaking shoulders or audible sounds. Just a few gentle tears that he would've missed if he wasn't so utterly enraptured by her face on the five-inch screen. His heart breaks.
"Hey hey, it's ok love, it's just a bit longer. I'll be home for a break in a few weeks. "
"I know. It's just really hard."
He doesn't know what to say to that at first. He wants to hammer on about how she knew what she was getting into, and this was an inevitability. But he knew she knew that. Him repeating it isn't going to make either of them feel any better. The next part of him yearned to just get on a plane and be at home, but that wasn't fair to anyone. Not his bandmates, not the concertgoers, and not Andy who loved what he did more than anything.
All he could say was
"I know."
You imagine the separation being hard but no one really prepares you for it. You can't prepare for it. It's the pain of losing a routine and a lover all at once. It's the frustration of needing help, of needing someone to take something off your plate and having someone willing to, but that someone is 1000 miles away. Literally.
She's crying a little harder now, still silent, with the tears increasing in frequency and size. He says again,
"I know. I know how hard it is cause I feel it too. You know what I miss the most right now?"
"What?"
"I miss the things that you do that piss me off. The annoying stuff. I miss how you always steal bites of my food."
She can't help but laugh at that. He keeps talking,
"I miss how cold your feet are and how you're always trying to shove them under me to warm them. And how often you leave dirty clothes on the floor."
She joins in this time,
"I miss your hair clogging the shower drain. And how you use every possible dish when you cook."
"See, doesn't it hurt a little less knowing that you don't have to unclog the shower for a while?"
"Yeah, and I'm sure you sleep easier without my cold feet poking you."
Theres another small pause, but this one is not as sad as the rest of them. This one feels like two people comfortable with each other, just basking in the silence, feeling no pressure.
"It sucks love, it really does. But it gets easier. And there are less shitty days. And it's not for forever."
"Ok, it's shitty, but I've felt shittier. And it's not for forever."
"Yeah."
"OK," she says, wiping her eyes a bit to try to show a bit of a braver face, "this is getting kind of bummer-ish, talk to me a bit about tour stuff"
For the rest of the call, he prattled on about various events and hijinks at his shows, on the road, and in between. About halfway through the story, he realized that she had fallen asleep and for some reason, he finished the story before hanging up. Possibly hoping that she would wake back up, but mostly enjoying the domestic feeling of talking to her. He eventually hung up, settling with the fact that she was indeed asleep for real. A few hours and a timezone later after he woke up from his own nap, he noticed a WhatsApp message again,
I forgot the HBO password again...
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ghouljams · 10 months
Note
Living vicariously through Bee, can we have Bee either impulsively purchases or has new livestock bestowed upon her, except…she has no place to put them. And Königs like god dammit (affectionate) and helps her build a ramshackle paddock to keep them in for the time being. Can include whatever kinky or plot shit you want, competency kink, size difference, stronk, whatever. I just need validation cause I just had to help my dad build a quarantine paddock in the burning sun this afternoon cause he impulsively bought more sheep 😭
Maelstrom you fuckin beauty I am so here for this. Bee is exactly the type to fall victim to the supply store chicks and bring home way too many because she wanted them to have friends. She is not made for farming but she loves animals and is so stupid. This is going to be very little relevant plot stuff and mostly me making König's life harder.
You call König as soon as you get home, worrying your lip with your teeth and staring at your new family member. You need to have a good long talk with yourself about impulse decisions and saying no to your neighbors. The line hardly rings twice before it picks up.
"What's wrong?" König asks instead of a greeting. You don't know why something has to be wrong for you to call him. Although thinking about it there's usually something wrong when you call him.
“You have to promise not to be mad.” You hear König exhale over the phone, a slow release of pressure.
“I promise I won’t be mad.”
"Ok, I- actually don't know where to start," you tell him honestly, that seems to work best with him. There's a short beat before he tells you,
"I'll be right there."
König stares down at the little pig you hold aloft for him to see. It’s eyes are almost as big and shiny as yours, it's little nose snuffles as you stare entreatingly at him and god dammit he can't say no to you.
"You need a paddock, and a shed." He tells you, already making a mental list of what he’ll need to grab from his place.
"Is a paddock like a little fenced area?” You ask, holding your squirmy piglet like a baby. König nods.
“Do you have a paddock?” Sometimes it feels like he’s really holding your hand through a conversation. You swear you’re not normally this stupid.
“I have a busted up fence behind the house.”
“Show me.”
-
König crouches next to one of the old fence posts behind your house, testing its stability before nailing up the wire netting he’d grabbed from home. He tips the brim of his hat with his finger to glance at the rest of the posts in the area, quick mental math buzzing and filling in where he’d need to put missing posts. When he stands again the roll of his shoulders as he straightens to full height is mesmerizing. You don’t think you’d properly internalized just how strong he must be. Watching him work is certainly… enlightening.
He’s really good at this, and you- you have nothing to add that could help. If you’re being totally honest with yourself, you would’ve been completely lost without him to here. Your heart clenches in your chest watching him twirl his hammer idly. You should really be doing something besides watching him. The flex of his bicep as he wraps his hand around the next post and shakes it, the tightness in his back as he raises the hammer and brings it down hard on the top of the post to force it further into the ground... You let out a pleased hum involuntarily. Are you proud of your ineptitude? No. Is seeing König work sort of worth it? Absolutely.
“You sure I can’t help?” You ask, more to be polite than to actually offer. König glances at you, the soft patterned sundress, the sandals, and shakes his head. No, the only thing you need to do is keep looking at him like that.
“Don’t need any help,” He sits back on his heels, staring at the fence post for a moment, before he looks back at you, “actually, if you had something to drink?”
You nod quickly, feeling like just the worst host in the world. You’d been so busy drooling over how hot your poor neighbor is you’d forgotten how hot he must be working out here. You can see the sweat on his skin, the wetness of his shirt where it sticks to him, of course he’s thirsty.
“I’ve got some lemonade, how’s that?”
“Perfect, thank you Hummelchen.” You smile at the nickname, whatever it means it feels affectionate and it makes you happy. You’ve never had a nickname before.
You steal a last look at the flex of his biceps before scurrying back to the house. This you can do, piling ice high in a glass and pouring lemonade just to where you think it might spill. You pop another glass in the freezer for later and feel fairly pleased with yourself, thinking ahead for once. You grab the glass to take out to König, careful not to spill as you cross the grass.
He's back to working hard, tapping nails into fence posts, and making sure everything is as secure as possible for you. For you. He's doing this for you. Just like he does everything for you, and doesn't ask for shit in return. It would be hot if you weren't starting to worry you're taking advantage of him. He looks up when he hears you approaching, his eyes crinkling pleasantly at the edges. He doesn't seem to mind helping you out. You should really find a way to return the favor.
You hold the glass out to him, "Looking good!"
He hums, fingers bumping yours as he takes the glass causing some of the drink to spill over your grip. He wants to tell you you're more than welcome to stay and watch, that he likes feeling your gaze so heavy on him, so appreciative, but he stops.
You lick the sticky sweet drink from your fingers without thinking, a terrible habit you've picked up living alone. König's eyes trace the motion, the soft pink of your tongue as it slides over your fingers. His own fingers tightening on the cool glass, feeling the creak of it trying to hold up under his grip. You don't know what you do to him, making an inquisitive noise at his staring, wiping the wet of your fingers on your skirt.
"You need something else?" You ask, König's voice catches in his throat. You. You. God, only you. You're all he needs and then some. You really must not know. Fuck, he wants to show you, wants to make sure you know how your every movement affects him. Maybe then you wouldn't be so spectacularly naive.
"No," he finally grits. You grin, just happy to have helped even a little.
"Just grab me if you do, I gotta finish up the laundry but I'll be back for your glass." You pat the post nearest you with finality and turn back to the house. König watches you go, thumb rubbing at the condensation on the glass.
König's hand settles on your shoulder as you're pinning sheets in place on the line. It makes you jump a little, you'd been thinking and hadn't heard him walk up.
"Paddock's done," His hand is damp with sweat and dirt, his voice almost as warm as the air. You glance over your shoulder at him and have to pretend you're not staring. It's weird he'd lose the shirt and not the bandana but you're not complaining. He's littered with scars but they only add to the appeal of the cut musculature, did he walk out of a museum? He's gorgeous, and your throat feels dry for any sane words but "wow" and "Holy shit" and "do you mind if I just touch you for a little." You tear your eyes away from his abs to look at the paddock.
Perfectly straight fence and evenly spaced poles, your new critter already snuffling about in the grass. There's even water and food troughs, you wonder if he found those in the old shed or if he brought them from his place. Somehow the well fit fence makes him all the more attractive.
"You'll need a shed for it, but it should be fine for tonight." König tells you, you nod a little and swallow the drool you're working on.
"Piggy smalls can sleep in the house, he's little so-" you cut yourself off, the questioning concern in König's eye makes you think you've said something wrong again.
"Is that what you've named it?" You nod quickly and hear him snort.
"You like it?" You ask, just to hear him tell you no.
"It's very... you." He says after a moment, smile wide enough you can almost see the edges under his bandana. Butterflies kick up in your stomach and you twist your fingers into your skirt so you don't reach to try and touch him.
"Are you staying for dinner?" You ask quickly, before you lose the nerve to say anything to him.
"Do you want me to stay?"
"Yes."
He likes the way you say it, like a sigh. Like you could never say anything else to him. "Then I'll stay."
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blondedmuse · 10 months
Text
DRUNK IN LOVE
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phil wenneck x famous!reader
synopsis. ꩜ taking phil to celebrate you best friend’s birthday in monte carlo. and the morning after.
author's note. ∿ broke my hiatus just to write about this man. fluff
word count. ⨾ 1.6k
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“You’re staring,” You tell Phil while he watches—stares at you as you get ready, putting on your earrings and the final touches of your look for the night.
“I can’t help it, baby,” He grins, walking up to you, his hands landing on your dress-adorned waist while his head perches on your shoulder as he looks into the reflection of the en suite bathroom mirror.
“You of all people should know what you do to me,” He whispered and you could feel his grin by the way his teeth grazed your ear. And you knew it wasn’t going away any time soon.
“How crazy I am about you.” It was the truth. The whole truth and nothing but. He was a lucky guy and he was reminded everyday. Especially now he thought, unable to keep his eyes off the way the dress hugged your curves in all the right places. However, that’s not to say you weren’t a lucky girl.
It was hard to find someone genuinely interested in you; not interested in your status or solely for the fact of being seen with you. Phil didn’t care in the slightest. You thought maybe he’d change, that maybe he’d end up using you, that maybe his interests would turn elsewhere, that maybe he was just like the others. But they stayed the same, he stayed the same. The same english teacher you spilled your coffee on in a cafe in California, and the same english teacher who had no clue who you were then.
Truth be told, he didn’t like the limelight. It wasn’t made for him the way it was made for you, he would say. And so you kept him out of that part of your life as much as you could and he thanked you for it.
Albeit, It was harder than it proved to be because the paparazzi always seemed to get their way and there wasn’t really any way around it. You could stop some photos from circulating, but not them altogether. So, when you asked Phil to come to Monte Carlo with you to celebrate your best friends birthday and watch the Monaco Grand Prix, it was safe to say you were a bit hesitant.
“F’course, I’ll go.” But he wasn’t. He would do anything if you wanted, and he made it clear that all you had to do was ask. And who was he to turn down the opportunity to watch F1? You and he were content with the private life you had—as private as it could be. But there were some times where you wanted to show off. Especially when he looked the way he did.
“I could say the same about you,” You whisper back, turning to face him in his hold. “You’ve always looked good in all black. But to be honest you look good in anything—preferably nothing.”
He exhaled, trying to grasp onto to the self control he felt slipping through his fingers.
“What time does the party start?” He asks looking down at you and you swore you saw his pupils dilate with need.
“Eight.” You answer and he smiles. “But the driver’s here already,” you continue and his head drops.
“We have fifteen minutes-”
“For the drive,” you tell him, leaving him in the bathroom to grab your clutch. “We always have the way back.”
He scoffs light-heartedly, following after you. “Yeah, if you’re not gonna be fucking hammered, baby.”
“No promises,” you laugh, taking his hand, dragging him downstairs to the car that was awaiting your arrival.
The drive was quick and smooth and when you arrived the venue was bustling with people, but to your luck, void of any flashing cameras. Taking notes of this, Phil took his time as he got out from his side of the car, circling around to yours and opening the door for you. He offered his hand out for you to grab, which you gladly accepted, exiting the vehicle.
Your arms wrapped around his right as you walked into the club and past the line of people out front, where you were immediately spotted by your best friend, Mia.
“I’m so glad you could make it!” She exclaimed, hugging you.
“As if I’d miss it.”
You both laughed and she turned to Phil, greeting him. “Nice to see you again, Phil,” she smiled, giving him a brief hug as well.
He sighed playfully. “I wish I could say the same thing about you.”
She laughed. “Dream big, they say.” You talked for a few minutes before she took you farther back into the club.
You wish you could say you’d remember the night by the time you woke up in the morning, but with how you’d spent it you weren’t so sure. With the way you drinking it was like you had your sights set on blacking out. You were having the time of your life, evidently so, and alcohol was just conveniently within arms reach at all times. Eventually (and surprisingly), Phil was the one to cut you off to save you tomorrow’s embarrassment, but that didn’t stop you from dragging him to the dance floor. He had his fair share of drinks, so the option of denying you was already out the window.
You danced until your feet hurt and you danced some more. You knew you had to go back to the hotel when the pain was too much and you had no champagne to keep it down. But by then it was early morning and the party was on its last legs, people leaving as they pleased.
As you were saying your incoherent goodbyes to Mia, Phil sobered up the best he could, eyeing the paparazzi that appeared the entrance.
“You ready?” He asked, walking up to you, marveling at how you were still standing. You replied only with a nod, leaning into his frame as he accepted yours with open arms.
“There’s paparazzi out front, do you wanna go out the back?” You weighed your options—the best your melted mind could—before shaking your head.
“No, I told the driver to be out front, so either way we’d have to go out there anyway,” you answered, trying your best not to slur your words, but your attempt remained unsuccessful.
“Great. Okay, let’s go.” He waved goodbye to Mia, while planting his hand firmly around your waist, walking you out the club. The moment the doors opened, the two of you were met by blinding lights. Phil’s arm immediately went to block your eyes the best they could while guiding you through the sea of people.
“Fuck, it’s so bright,” you slurred, but only loud enough so that Phil could hear.
“I know, baby. Stay with me, we gotta get to the car, okay,” He told you before he checking his pockets for the sunglasses he kept for times like this. Once he found them they were yours, blocking out the lights obstructing your view ahead of you. The camera’s couldn’t catch it but your expression shifted to one of confusion.
“Wait who are you again?”
“Your boyfriend, honey.”
You laughed. “That’s funny, I already have one.”
“Yeah, yeah, whatever,” he mumbled to himself as he opened the car door for you, grateful it wasn’t to far. He got in after you, the car taking off right as soon as he was settled.
“So…do you have a girlfriend?”
He couldn’t help but smile. “Yeah but she doesn’t know how to drink.”
“That’s a shame,” you giggled, followed by a hiccup.
“Here, have some water,” Phil told you, handing you a bottle he grabbed from the side of the car door. You obliged blissfully as he reached for your feet, undoing your heels in his lap and you squealed as you felt his touch. It was so soft but so distinctly his.
“Where is she tonight, your girlfriend?” You lifted his sunglasses from your face, letting them sit in you hair as you talked.
“I don’t know, you tell me.”
You took one more sip of your water before capping it and putting it on the floor.
“I could if I knew. I could also tell you that I could show you a good time,” You moved your feet in his lap, dangerously close to the place you wanted then the most.
He shook his head with that same grin he wore all night. “You are so wasted right now, baby.”
The rest of the night was hazy and the morning arrived with a pounding in your skull. You woke up before Phil for the sole reason of sticking your head in the toilet to empty the contents of your stomach. Phil woke up quickly after, your empty spot on the bed subconsciously telling him you weren't there. He looked for where you could've been which didn't take too long once he heard you from the bathroom.
"I see last night caught up to you," He spoke softly as he sat down next to you on the floor, his voice low and raspy. He held your hair back as you retched, wincing a little.
"Good girl. Let it out, baby," he lulled as his free hand rubbed your back. He stayed like that, comforting you when heaved just a little too hard and he would continue to do so whether you wanted it or not. When he didn't hear you anymore he got up from the floor to go to the sink, filling up one of the many complimentary cups the hotel offered with water. He sat back down again and handed it to you.
"You okay?" He asks and you nod, drinking the water. Once you're done the two of you sit like that for a few moments, soaking in each other. Your head rests in the nape of his neck, your body in his lap, and his head on yours. The early morning is calm in Monte Carlo and so are you.
"We should get breakfast, yeah?"
"Yeah." You agree.
"Get you some coffee for that hangover," He suggested, mumbling into your hair. While sobriety had kicked in and the effects of alcohol were long gone, there was a part of you that always felt the way you were when you were drunk. He felt it too. Or maybe you were just in love.
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ughgoaway · 5 months
Text
naughty vs nice // day 5
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content warnings; smut (or at least attempted smut), blow jobs, kinda public?, sub-ish matty, swearing, misogyny and drinking.
a/n; now... I am not good at smut writing but I felt it was my duty to at least attempt some for y'all. if this is completely tragic, I apologise in advance lol <3
word count; 2.9k
(this fic takes place after they've gotten together)
12 days masterlist
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“So please, go and mingle parents and teachers! Your little ones are all having their own party in the gym, so enjoy your night off!” The headteacher raised his glass of wine as he finished his welcome, each person doing the same and then giving him a small round of applause. 
You were currently talking to Mrs Jones and pretending to listen to her whine about her new teacher assistant and how useless they are. But your eyes continue to drift over her shoulder to meet Matty’s. 
He stands across the room from you chatting to Adam and another teacher, but he can't keep focused on anything when you are dressed like that less than 20 feet away from him. 
Your asymmetric dress draped over one shoulder and left the other bare. The body con hugged your figure in a way that had Matty's heart hammering at his ribs whenever he looked at you. The small slit teased him further. Every time your leg shifted and more of your thigh poked out, he had to make a conscious effort to not get hard.
Matty's eyes were drawn to the glowing skin of your exposed collarbone. Thinking of not even 30 minutes earlier when he stood between your legs mouthing at that exact spot as you whimpered under him. 
/////
“You can't leave a mark baby,” you pant out but make no effort to stop his motions, “everyone will know exactly what I've been doing” You giggle as he nips lightly at your collarbone.
Your legs were spread as you sat on your desk and Matty moved his mouth over you. 
“I don't care, I want them to know. Want them to know you’re my girl” he says, coming out from your neck with puffy kiss-bitten lips and messy curls from your wandering hands.
You sigh sadly and start to adjust his tie and stroke a hand over his hair to fix it, “I know, but we can't tell anyone. Not while im still so new here, im pretty sure if Mrs Richards knew I was fucking the hot rockstar Dad she’d fire me on the spot.”
Matty smirks and ignores most of your statement, opting to focus on one small part, “hot rockstar dad, huh? Is that what you teachers call me when you’re gossiping about me?”
Your cheeks go red, and you shake your head unconvincingly, matty hums and says “Sure sweetheart.”
You push him away playfully and stand, brushing your hands over your dress and straightening it out, not wanting to join the party looking like a teenager who has been caught fooling around.
“Okay you have to stay away from me tonight, or I'm just gonna jump you. you look too good in that suit” You smooth your hands over his lapels, and Matty smiles coyly at your words. 
“Mmm maybe I want that, though,” he teases as he smoothly slides his hands around your waist. A firm look from you has Matty backtracking, quickly saying, “Okay okay, I promise. I won't come near you tonight. Scouts honour” Matty faux salutes you, and you can't help but giggle at your boyfriend's ridiculousness.
That promise lasted all of 30 minutes, but soon you were roped into a conversation with Matty and two other dads, both of whom you hated. 
Mike Wilson and Martin Addams were two eye-roll-inducing men. You avoided them at all costs, but as you walked past them, Martin waved you over. 
“y/n perfect, we need a good woman's opinion here,” he says, smirking at you, shamelessly running his eyes over your body. You see Matty tense out of the corner of your eye, but he sighs and shakes it off.
“Ah hello everyone,” you say with faux politeness, giving Matty a subtle nod that he returns and fights the smile threatening his cheeks.
“You're a traditional woman, aren't you y/n?” Martin asks, not giving you time to answer before carrying on, “You have a job, but you get that women aren't meant to work. If you had kids or whatever, you'd be at home in the kitchen like a proper lady, wouldn't you?” his question had you frozen on the spot.
What kind of fucking question is that? What would possess him to ask you that?
Before you get a chance to try and give a fake, polite response, Mike jumps in, “Yeah! You get that a woman's purpose is to have kids and look after the house. You're all just babymakers, really, aren't you?” he says, laughing and nodding at you as if you'd agree with anything coming out of his mouth.
You fight to give an appropriate response. You really do. But Matty can see your shoulder tense as you begin to speak, and he knows exactly what's coming. 
“Excuse me if im being dense here,” you begin, “but have you seriously asked me, a woman with a full-time job and who is totally independent, if I believe women are meant to be ‘baby makers’?” you give a sarcastic air quote as you copy mikes words. 
You give them an incredulous look, and before they can stutter an apology, you cut them off, just as they had done to you. 
“Well forgive my language but since there are no kids around I can say pretty confidenly that you two are fucking insane. What possessed you to say that I'll never know, but I do know that both of your daughters are doomed if you say like things like that around them. How dare you speak about women that way? You should both be ashamed.” You shake your head in disappointment at the men in front of you, your teacher voice coming out as you scold them. 
Both men scoff and walk away wordlessly, leaving you and Matty standing there. You give him a disbelieving smile, and he simply nods in agreement. 
“God those two are dickheads. Good thing I couldn't care less about them,” you pause and suck in a breath before giving Matty an apologetic look, “Sorry my teacher voice came out at the end there, it felt like I was scolding two kids.” you roll your eyes as you finish. 
Matty shakes his head and looks at you shyly. He wordlessly motions you closer, and you lean in ever so slightly to hear his whisper. 
“Don't worry about it, babe, it was kind of hot actually,” he says shyly, avoiding eye contact with you as he says it. You give him a shocked look and watch the red spread on his cheeks.
A thrill of power skitters through your bones at his comment, liking seeing Matty slightly bashful. 
“Oh is that right?” Your breathy words are heavy with lust, and Matty looks at you speechless before nodding dumbly. 
You see his hand slide from his side to the front of his trousers and adjust his crotch slightly.
Oh, how very interesting.
You didn't think he'd be into that, or that you would. But you can't deny that the horny look in his eyes had you turned on. 
Teasingly, you raise your eyebrows at Matty. He bites his lip unconsciously as he stares at yours, and any resolve you had snaps. 
“Come with me” you demand, grabbing his hand and pulling him out of the hall. His head shoots around to see if anyone is looking, but the only person's eyes he meets are Adam's.
He simply gives him a disbelieving chuckle and a shake of his head, knowing about the secret relationship the two of you had begun.
Matty smiles back and turns around to follow you like an eager puppy. You drag him down the empty corridors and stop in front of random doors to see if they're unlocked. Every time you jiggle a handle that doesn't move, you grumble angrily and keep dragging Matty along.
Eventually, the store cupboard door swings open, and you grin victoriously, shoving Matty in with two hands on his chest. With a thump, he smacks against the wall. The impact combined with the look of hunger in your eyes has him breathless. 
With a swing in your hips, you shut the door and stroll towards him. Once you're centimetres away from his face, Matty leans in, desperate to kiss you. 
“Ah ah ah,” you say as you pull away much to Matty's disappointment, but any sadness soon leaves his brain as you sink to your knees in front of him.
You smirk as his eyes shoot open wide, his mouth drops open as a shocked gasp crackles our from his throat.
“Oh fuck” he says disbelievingly as your hands start to smooth over his stomach and push up his shirt. 
“You like it when im bossy, huh?” You teasingly whisper and lean forward, kissing Matty's exposed stomach and tracing the spattering of hair trailing down with your tongue. 
He nods dumbly and watches you. You work your mouth over him diligently, nipping and kissing his abdomen. 
“Pleasepleaseplease just touch me!” Matty whimpers out from above you, bucking his hips forward desperately. His pathetic whimpers cause electricity to spark down your spine.
He grows increasingly impatient as you playfully kiss every inch of him. You can see him growing more and more needy for your mouth, and you love it.
Soon, it becomes too much, and he can't stay quiet.
The control you had was making you dizzy. With a firm hand, you press his hips back to the wall forcibly, pulling a weak protest from Matty's lips.
Matty couldn't care less how meagre he sounded at that moment. He needed your mouth on him now.  
before long, he isthanking whatever god there is above because your fingers begin to unbutton his trousers and pull them down his legs.
Your hands move up from his thighs to toy with the corkscrew curls you see sitting at the top of his boxers. A small damp patch sits on the front of his underwear, the dark grey making you salivate with want. 
Messily you lean forward and begin to mouth along the outline of his hard cock. The wet patch grows as more pre-cum dribbles from his head, mixing with your saliva the more you lick over him.
Pitiful noises come from deep within Matty's chest as his hand comes to rest on the back of your head subconsciously. You wrench your mouth away from him, and he whines desperately. 
“Ah no touching baby, did I say you could hold my head? Keep your hands to yourself,” you say forcefully, earning a loose nod from Matty, his head no longer feeling attached to his neck.
“M’ sorry it just feels so good i- ohmygod” you interrupt Matty by palming over his boxers harshly, giving his cock a firm squeeze that made him buckle at the waist. Almost falling forward at the sensation. 
Tantalisingly slow you pull his waistband down over his leaking cock, he groans at the pressure on his head. 
He was not sure he's ever been this hard. He could feel his heartbeat in his dick every time a bead of precum leaks down his shaft. The feeling of you releasing his swollen cock made his whole body fill with a visceral need for you.
You lean forward and kitten lick the tip, and Matty gasps so hard he breaks out in a fit of coughs, not prepared for any contact from your hot tongue. 
“Have you thought about this a lot, baby, huh? Me down on my knees for you? Choking on your dick? I bet you dreamt of filling my mouth with your cum” you say as you press a kiss on his rose tattoo, moving to recreate the same action to his other hip bone. Your hot breath teases Matty as you skip over where he needs you most.
His cock jumped at your words and his curls bounced in time with his needy nods, “Yes yes yes. I thought about it all the time. I dreamt of this. Just- please put your mouth on me” he whines out, trying not to buck his hips into your mouth. 
He didn't think he'd get off to being dominated, but the power in your eyes only made him more desperate for you.
“Well since you asked so nicely, my love,” you say with a sickly sweet smile before sinking your mouth on Matty quickly, taking as much as you can down your throat in one go.
The noise Matty made was animalistic, he felt completely out of control of his body. and he fucking loved it.
“SHIT. You're so fucking good at that. god-” Matty stares at your mouth, stretching out over him, admiring your red lipstick smudging on his dick. The ring of red moves further, and further down the more of him you fit in your throat. 
You moan in appreciation, which causes Matty's hips to stutter. A warning look from you has him furiously muttering out apologies.
“Im so sorry baby it just feels too good. Oh fuck- ill be good, I promise. I'll be a good boy” his cock throbbed painfully in your mouth. You marvel at the musky taste of precum on your tongue and pull it off with a wet pop. 
“Oh, you want to be my good boy?” You tease, leaning forward and letting a glob of spit fall from your plump lips onto his tip. Matty's eyes nearly bulge out of his head at the sight of your smudged red lips spitting on him and your hand working your salvia over his aching cock. 
“Yes yes. I wanna be your good boy-” he said, straining his words as he did. clearly yearning for your praise.
“You're such a good boy, sweetheart. My good boy” You give him a cheeky smile as you sink your mouth all the way down on Matty and begin furiously working his cock in your mouth.
Matty was chanting obscenities as your mouth moved over him, getting more and more incoherent as you went. Wet slurping noises filled the air of the small cupboard along with Matty's frenzied words. 
You feel his dick pulse in your mouth, and you know he's close. His body was telling the story that he couldn't.
“M’ so so close baby- please please can I cum?” he pleads with you, looking down with wide puppy dog eyes. His begging only caused the wet patch in your underwear to grow, holding this much power over a man like Matty was turning you on beyond belief.
You pulled off with a gasp and continued to furiously pump his cock with your hand, “What was that baby? Tell me again, I didn't quite catch it over your fucking pathetic whimpers.” ever so slightly your hand slows and Matty immediately stutters to repeat himself, desperate to give you what you want.
“Fuck yes, you're gonna make me cum. FUCK. please can I cum? I really want to cum in your mouth. Please please pleaseplease-” he nods as he speaks in a desperate attempt to convince you to allow him the release he needs so intensely.
“Since you've been polite, and such a good boy” his cock leaks on your fist at the praise, revelling in you calling him good. you lean forward as you speak, your mouth teasing the tip of him.
“cum” you demand and place his dick back in your mouth.
Matty's mouth falls open, and he lets out a guttural groan, with a few weak thrusts combined with your bobbing head he spills onto your tongue.
You moan at the taste of him as his cum trickles down your throat. He pants above you as you pull off and give him a sly grin. 
You knew he was staring at you like you were an angel on earth, so you opened your mouth to present him with the ribbons of cum that sat on your tongue.
You brought your hand up and stuck your fingers in your mouth, spreading his cum around the inside of your cheeks. Even bringing some out so smudge over your lips.
As you swallow, an involuntary groan comes out of you. You lick your lips deliberately, knowing Matty loves a performance. 
He stared down at you dumbly, in shock over what he had just witnessed.
Once he was capable of speaking again Matty groaned, “fucking hell, that was insane. You're insane ” he panted as he tried to catch what little breath he had.
You smile like the Cheshire cat and rise off your knees to stand chest-to-chest with Matty. You lean in and kiss him desperately.
Matty can taste his release on your tongue, and he briefly thinks this might be the hottest thing that has ever happened to him.
His tongue chases yours urgently, trying to keep you intertwined and chase the taste of him in your mouth.
Voices outside the door pull you away from each other. You both stare nervously at the door, but luckily, the voices drift past effortlessly. 
A laugh escapes the two of you, and Matty pulls you in for a hug. His chest heaves as you burrow your nose into the junction between his neck and shoulder. You pull up slightly and lick the outside of his ear before whispering, “So I think you liked that” with a cheeky giggle.
Matty looks at you with a grin that goes ear to ear and nods slowly, both of you lightly laughing at the absurdity of the situation. 
“I definitely liked that.”
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echobx · 1 month
Text
Erase Me - jj maybank x reader
summary: after a heavy breakup you and JJ Maybank confront each other about the impact this breakup had on you.
warnings: angst, hurt/comfort, established relationship, break up
word count: 2.2k
author's note: this was inspired by the song "Erase Me" by Lizzy McAlpine. I wrote this about a year ago when I felt really down and it's very emotionally heavy imo. it's written from the reader's point of view and reader is not marked down with a specific gender
link to the fic on ao3
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The constant hammering on my door woke me up. His old shirt was hanging loosely from my body as I got up and walked to the front door to open it. There were tears in his anger filled eyes as he looked at me. "Did you do it? Did you sleep with him?" He was leaning against the railing opposite the door to my apartment. An apartment that we had called our home once. A home we had chosen together, thinking we'd always stay together. Making it our home because the two of us were all that mattered back then. "I-" I tried to form an answer but he interrupted me immediately. "Deny it. Say it isn't real." Yet I stayed silent, lying would've only made things worse. "Wow. Thank you for your honesty," he scoffed and then he was gone. All while I was still standing there trying to figure out how all of this came to be. The tears started flowing as soon as I heard his bike roar and watched him drive away. Not even a shower could've helped me calm myself down. Seeing him had brought everything back, all the pain and the guilt. I knew that I shouldn't have to feel guilty about what I had done. Of course it had been a mistake but if he hadn't left me in the first place, I would have never been in this position.
I got dressed, my eyes still filled with an insurmountable amount of tears, and drove to the Château. We had rebuilt it after the fire, it had taken so long but it had been worth it. I hadn't been there since our first party after we finished. The only place where he could be was here, even after everything it was the only place he felt safe. "JJ!" I screamed after slamming the door of my car and walking towards the porch. "Don't you think you have done enough?" John B came running out and built himself up in front of me, stopping me from moving closer towards the house. "Because you know everything right? Because he told you everything?" I was so angry at him, at all of them. I pushed JB to the side so I could look at JJ. "You left me! You did that! I had nothing to do with that!" I yelled at my ex-boyfriend. He jumped up and came at me in full rage. "You slept with Rafe!" "I made a mistake after you broke up with me! That's hardly comparable, don't you think?" I spat out, there was still a huge gap between the two of us because I knew I wouldn't be allowed closer anyway. JJ ran his hands through his hair, something he always did when he was uncomfortable, but I kept going anyway. "I was alone at home for a whole month. A whole month, JJ! I didn't leave the apartment because you left me! No one gave a shit about me or how I was feeling. The people that are supposed to be my friends chose you and I don't even blame them. But it still hurts, it won't stop hurting. Because you left!" Kiara and Pope had come out of the house and now everyone was looking at me while I was having an emotional breakdown in front of the porch, but I didn't care about them. My eyes were solely fixed on him. "Don't you think I would turn back time if I could?" he yelled at me. "I don't know. I feel like I never knew you, because you promised me to never leave me and then you did! And I was miserable for a whole month, and no one reached out to me to even just see if I was still alive-" I stopped my yelling for a few seconds to gather my thoughts and started talking quieter. "I know I made a mistake, I know that, but after everything it was nice to just have someone who cared, okay? Can you blame me for wanting to have someone who just listened to me? Just for one night? I had the choice of staying at home again and being miserable or getting drunk and being around people even if they didn't care, at least I wouldn't be alone for a short time." "Stop trying to make excuses for what you did!" he was yelling at me, but I stayed quiet which seemed to enrage him more. "J, I'm not making excuses." I gently shook my head, tears streaming down my face as I looked into his anguished eyes. "I'm trying to explain myself. I'm trying to get you to understand why it happened. I don't need your pity, JJ. I just need you to understand it, okay? It doesn't even matter that it was him. I don't care about him. But for a short moment he was the only one I had and he cared about me and I made a mistake because I felt a sense of security that I had been missing for so long." I took a step forward but was immediately stopped by JB who placed his hand on my shoulder. I didn't care that he was restraining me, I was still only focused on the blond boy in front of me. "You destroyed me. You ripped out my heart and tore it to pieces long before I made this drunken mistake. Do you understand that? Sometimes you seem to forget that your actions have consequences, and if you had wanted to fix things, if you had wanted to not hurt me, then you wouldn't have left me like this." I really didn't want to sob anymore than I already was so I quickly turned around and left again. No one followed me, not like I had expected anything to happen anyway, but it hurt nevertheless.
On my drive home I thought back to the night. I had drowned my pain in alcohol, not wanting to feel a single thing, and Rafe had looked after me. It was weird, I hadn't seen him after we had left for El Dorado months before. But he was there and he was nice and gentle. He made me feel safe, which confused me even more since he had all so often tried to kill me and my friends. We talked most of the night, I don't remember much other than crying and talking, and then a kiss and everything else was a blur. I had woken up next to him feeling like absolute shit. Not only because I had just made a huge mistake but also because there was no way that I could recover from this socially. I was still too intoxicated to walk, but somehow I had made it down the stairs of the mansion and some girl had offered to drive me home. After that rumors about the night started spreading like wildfire. But all I could think of was that JJ would find out in the worst way possible. Even after everything I was still more focused on him being okay than on myself. I didn't let myself fall back into self-destructive behavior for the whole month we had been apart, not because I didn't want to, but because I knew it would hurt him more to see me in pain than I could ever hurt myself. I hated love. I hated the stupid universe for doing this to us, to me. I hated him for leaving me.
As soon as I got home, I got a text on my phone. Rafe. "Call me." I ignored it, nothing good would ever come of it. I changed back into JJ's old shirt. It didn't even smell like him anymore, but it was the only way I could feel at least a tiny bit less sad.
Three days went by where I didn't do anything. I didn't eat at all and barely drank enough water to stay alive. My whole life I had been abused and in pain because of it, but I had never felt this horrible. I didn't know how to deal with this type of pain. It encapsulated my whole being and the only thing I knew that would help me through it, was the guy that brought it all to live.
It was light in the night when I heard keys turn in the door and then footsteps as the door fell into its lock. I took the knife from my bedside table and walked into the living room. JJ was just standing there, only illuminated by the small night light that I had on behind the couch. "I think I broke his jaw," he slurred while looking at his bloody hands. The knife fell to the tiled floor with a loud clatter as I ran into his arms. I didn't care about what had happened. He was there, he was home and he embraced me with the same tightness as always. "I'm sorry, my love," JJ whispered against my neck, his tears running down my back.
I really didn't want to let go of him, but I needed to tend to his wounds so I walked him into the bedroom. He sat down on my side of the bed while I took out the first aid kid, just like I had done so many times before. He took off his jacket and then his shirt. His abdomen was covered in bruises and small cuts. I cleaned his wounds and he flinched every single time that I had to press the cleaning pad against a wound.
"Are you okay? Anything broken?" I asked quietly and he shook his head. "Is he still alive?" I tipped JJ's head up with my finger so he had to look at me. "Why do you care?" His eyes were filled with pain and anger. "I need to know if I have to deal with you getting assault or murder charges. He won't let this go, you know that." I tried my best not to enrage him more because I was too scared that he would run away from me again. "He's alive and well. He was laughing the whole time, I wanted to kill him," JJ mumbled and went back to looking at his bruised up knuckles. I got up and put the kit away. "You should sleep. I'm gonna take the couch." He grabbed my hand as I wanted to walk away. "Don't. Stay, please." "I don't know if that would be wise," I whispered and tried to avoid his sad eyes as much as I could. I didn't want to drown in him again, to lose myself in how good he could make me feel. His actions had scarred me and I really didn't want to get hurt even more than I already was. "I need you, I do. And I was stupid to push you away and it took me way too long to understand it all, all right? I'm not okay and it's worse when you aren't there. I know that it's all my fault. Can you forgive me? Not immediately, I know that's too much to ask, but in the future, could you forgive me for everything I did?" he pleaded. "You should sleep," I said and walked into the bathroom, leaving him behind. I scrolled through my gallery, specifically all the pictures we had taken over the last year of being together. It hurt to see how happy we had been but it gave me hope too. Maybe it was stupid to do so, but I had already decided to forgive him the moment he stepped foot back into our home. I convinced myself that it was the right choice because the thought of losing him forever was unbearable. It hurt more to know he could be happy with anyone else than it had when I had thought him dead after falling off the Coastal Venture, or his bike accident.
"Don't ignore me." Another text from Rafe popped up on my screen and ripped me out of my thoughts.
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Rafe Cameron: Don't ignore me.
Me: I was drunk and I made a mistake. Me: Stop texting me. Me: I am not interested, bye.
Rafe Cameron: He's back, isn't he. Rafe Cameron: He nearly killed me tonight. Rafe Cameron: Does that not matter?
Me: Leave me alone!
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I put my phone down and went to bed. JJ was lying on his side, eyeing me as I walked in and lied down beside him. "That's my shirt," he noted quietly, but I didn't reply. "Can I- can I hug you?" The insecurity was all present in his voice, he had never been like this, not when it came to me. I turned around to look at him. "Are you gonna leave me again?" He shook his head rapidly. "No. I'm sorry that I did that in the first place." I moved closer and he put his arms around me. Just minutes later he was asleep and I rolled over so his head was lying on my chest. I started playing with his hair, just like I had always done. It felt nice to pretend like nothing had ever happened. His scent filled me up like a fresh breeze of air, the smell of saltwater and weed and just him. I fell asleep and had my first dreamless night since he had left me.
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please don't copy and/or post my work onto other platforms! ~e©ho
link to the song:
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frvnkcastles · 1 year
Text
BAD MIRACLE ➵ F. CASTLE
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Summary: After a tense argument, you get triggered and Frank is there to pick up the pieces.
Warnings: Past abuse (Frank does not hurt the reader), implied PTSD, feminine nicknames, cursing, hurt/comfort
Word count: 1.5k
Author’s note: This was also a request — I promise I’m gonna try my best to start replying to asks with the corresponding fics! I'm still very much figuring this whole thing out. Stay safe lovelies <3 (Also by now you may have figured out I’m out here naming after FOB lyrics, hehe.)
He would never hurt you. He wouldn’t. Ever. You knew that — and yet, all reason and logic flew out the window just like that as soon as he raised his hand in retaliation.
You couldn’t even remember what you were arguing about, your mind only locked in on that one moment that made your heart hammer in your chest and any words drain from your throat. He had been heading out the front door of your apartment and you reached for his arm, only for him to pull it away and lift his hand, in the process. That was all. Just... moving away from you.
And you still flinched. As soon as he turned to you with his hand up in the air, you flinched. He saw it, saw the panic flash by your eyes, saw the way your throat closed up on you and saw how you took a step back in blind fear. Within seconds, whatever had been building the frustration in his chest evaporated and the heavy bag carrying his guns fell onto the floor with a thud that only startled you further.
”Baby...”, he breathed out, tilting his head to the side while reaching for you with both hands, only for you to react by stepping back and forcing a quick smile onto your lips.
”It’s okay”, you uttered out, running your fingers through your hair and nodding to confirm your own words as you trailed away from him. ”I’ll—I just—I’m gonna... the—the bathroom”, you stammered before turning your eyes away from him, unwilling to face the stare aimed at you as you headed down the hall to hide in your bathroom.
As you disappeared behind the door that was firmly sealed and then locked, Frank couldn’t help but take in a heavy breath and bury his face in his hands. The urge to kick something was almost irresistible, but aware that it would only scare you further, he settled for pacing back and forth and grumbling into his palm.
Whoever had caused you to react like that, was going to fucking suffer. You had always been the one person to look at Frank without fear, and here you were now, hiding from him behind locked doors. He could hear your suffocated cries, too, and it broke his heart in two — how could he do that to you? How could anyone have done that to you?
He struggled to suppress his anger at himself and anyone else who had made you cry, but eventually, he exhaled and stepped over to the bathroom with a gentle knock. ”Sweetheart”, he began, only to realize he had no clue what the fuck to say. There was no excuse or defense, after all. ”Hey, I get if you don’t wanna see me. But tell me you’re alright, yeah?” he pleaded, the despair evident even in his rough voice as he leaned his forehead against the door and squeezed his eyes shut. He felt sick to his stomach.
He heard your sob through the door, and when you unlocked it, he didn’t hesitate to carefully open it and peer in, only to find you lurched over the sink with your head in your hands. You were shaking and your breaths were far too shallow to his liking, and for a split second, right before his instincts kicked in, he felt awfully helpless and unsure what to do.
”Sweetheart…”, he frowned, ”hey, can I touch you? That okay?” His hands reached for you gently, and with a desperate nod, you swiveled towards him and fell against his chest. He cradled you in a tender embrace, one that you wanted badly to wash away all the raw memories of unwanted, hurtful touches. Frank… he would never hurt you.
”It’s okay, baby. Take your time, aight?” he whispered, his gravelly voice grounding you as he rubbed soothing circles on your back. He didn’t waver, not once, the thought of this being too much never crossing his mind. He was going to stand by you through everything — he had decided on that very early on, and his mind could not be changed.
You hiccuped, and damn-near hyperventilating, you clung onto Frank’s shirt like it was your lifeline. ”I’m—I just— I thought…”, you sobbed, and closing his eyes, Frank nodded.
”Shh, sh, shh, I know. I know, darlin’. C’mon, try and take some deep breaths for me, yeah?” he tried quietly and solemnly, and managing a frantic nod against his chest, you followed his example and drew in longer breaths, calming down your panicked state with each inhale.
”C’mere. Let’s get ya outta this hot bathroom. We’ll sit down on the couch, huh? That sound good, baby?” he suggested, talking you through everything, gentle and careful as he began guiding you into the living room. Still sniffling, you let him lead and wiped your eyes, a surge of embarrassment rearing its head in your chest as you sat down on the couch.
”I’m sorry”, was the first coherent thing you managed to speak, your shaky hands fiddling with the sleeves of your shirt as you avoided Frank’s gaze on you. ”I’m really… really sorry”, you added, lifting an ashamed hand to your face as you sighed.
Immediately, Frank was reacting with a mixture of a scoff and a snort — one that you had no time to overthink when he was speaking up.
”You got nothin’ to be sorry about, sweetheart. That wasn’t your fault. Ever. You got that?” he pressed with demanding words but his tone was genuinely soft and concerned for you. He didn’t want you to dwell in unfair guilt or worry, and he needed you to know that. ”I was an asshole”, he continued, before taking in a weak breath and looking down at his fingers. ”But I would never, ever touch you in any way you don’t want to me. I’d never hurt you. I know I’m—I’m a scary guy, yeah? But you never have to be scared of me”, he went on, desperate for you to trust him again.
Quietly, you nodded in understanding, not sure what to say. You believed him, of course, yet words failed you and, in doing so, left Frank fearing the worst.
”Are you?” he whispered weakly. ”Scared of me?”
At that, you looked up at him with widening eyes, your hand automatically leaping to his in a way that made a weight roll off of his chest. At least you still didn’t mind touching him. ”No”, you promised with a shake of your head. ”I was just... startled. But I know. I know you wouldn’t, I do”, you sighed, and with the need to console you somehow, Frank tenderly swiped his finger across the back of your hand to caress the smooth skin there.
”Has that, uh... has that happened before?” he asked lowly, his eyes trained on where your fingertips rested across his, unsure if he’d be able to handle your answer. You could hear it in his voice — the strain, the unwillingness to know mixed in with the insistency on hearing all about it.
Swallowing, you nodded. ”Yeah”, you whispered, not elaborating further but it was enough for Frank to pinch his nose and breathe out with anger.
”Jesus”, he muttered, his heart pounding in his chest and his trigger finger itching — and yet, he gulped it all down and gave you a careful glance. ”I appreciate you tellin’ me. As much as you want to talk about it... I won’t leave your side or judge you, ever”, he vowed, and wiping a tear from your eye at his kind, protective nature, you smiled at him.
”I wish I had met you earlier”, you laughed dryly, not really amused but certainly grateful for this man by your side. ”I’m really lucky to have you now”, you added with your eyes watering up, and with his stomach lurching at your fragile voice, he inched over to you on the couch to press a kiss onto your temple.
”And as long as you want me, I’mma be right here”, he swore.
It seemed almost funny, now — it had been a complete misunderstanding, and certainly, whatever you had been arguing about had been completely forgotten about by now.
”Is there anythin’ else I should know? I don’t ever wanna make you… y’know. That was pretty hard to watch”, Frank swallowed, clearly remorseful, and it made you feel guilty, too.
”I, uh, I don’t really react well if someone raises their voice at me”, you explained quietly, and listening attentively, Frank nodded. ”Arguments happen, I get that. It’s not me trying to get out of it. I just… hope we can have an adult conversation instead of screaming at each other”, you continued, and Frank reacted with his hand coming over yours.
”Hey, shit, that’s more than fair. You got it, darlin’. I’ll, uh, I’ll try my best to make sure we don’t fight, period. But if it comes to that, if I’m outta line, you tell me, okay?” he insisted, and with a weak smile, you squeezed his hand.
”Thank you for being so understanding”, you whispered, and with a sad chuckle, Frank scooted closer to kiss your temple.
”You deserve nothin’ less, sweet darlin’.”
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rusmii · 6 months
Note
Hey I love your works! Could I request Chuuya and Dazai head cannons with a s/o who struggles with seizures/epilepsy after suffering an injury? I’m craving some hurt/comfort fluff so bad 😩
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☁️🫧🦢 luv, let me take care of you
dazai, chuuya x fem!reader
╰ back to navi
syp: after a traumatic brain injury, you have developed permanent epilepsy and seizures. how will they take care of you?
tw//: seizures + epilepsy, medication and other medical stuff mentioned, violence
♡: i'm glad you enjoy my works😚! here's some dessert for you
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"don't move." he says
this was the first time you've actually seen dazai so serious over your well-being
well, that was worded wrong. he cares about you, he does deeply, but was it ever as serious as when he almost thought he lost you?
how it started was when the two of you were assigned a mission. it was a simple one, but for some reason, there was some misinformation that caused the mission to go south
dazai watched as the ability user used its brute strength to pick you up by the head and start throwing you to the ground like a hammer
dazai screamed, begged and pleaded for them to stop
yk it's serious when the dazai osamu begs with his face in the ground
but the sound of your bones breaking didn't stop and he was out of options
his voice was horase from screaming so loud, and he knew that negotiating wasn't an option, so he lay there helplessly as he heard his beloved die
he swore that as soon as this was over, they'd pay.
the saying that dazai's enemies' misfortune was being his enemies wasn't just some silly mafia rumor after all
just remembering the events of that day shook him to his core. usually, he didn't care as much as the others would, but the situation was different
the situation was you
he waited anxiously outside yosano's door, the other agency members always bringing him meals and water to drink, always asking him to use the bathroom because he just wouldn't do it
they all showed the same anxious expression as well. you were an agency member, part of the family
so when yosano came out and announced that she has stabilized you; everyone was prancing in relief
dazai shoved her out of the way to see you, and his heart broke at the bandages wrapped around your head
it reminded him of his mafia days so when he approached you, he was quickly slapped away by yosano who warned him that you have suffered the most injury on your head
so he couldn't be too loud or noisy around you for the first week or two
and came the present day, where you were completely fine; save for the fact that you did have some permanent damage, but it didn't stop you from doing your daily activities
yosano had prescribed you pain meds and medication for your seizures
"dazai, i'm fine," you sigh as he attempts to pick you up bridal style to carry you to the bathroom, "no, really! stop.." you get out of his grip before he could really lift you into the air, and you could hear the worry in his voice, "belladonna, you're hurting," he tried to reason with you. "i was hurting, osamu. i'm fine, really! it's just a minor inconvenience that happened because i wasn't careful." you reassure him, but he wasn't having any of it. "gah! what's wrong with you!? stop treating me like i'm glass osamu." you push his arms away and he stares at you, "but-" — "but what?!" you snap, you didn't mean to. you knew he was only trying to care for you or at least learning how to. "samu, speak to me." you lean forward, and he bit his lip, "im just.." he pauses hesitantly before resuming, "scared ill lose you.." he finishes, and your eyes soften as you gently take his hands into yours, "osamu, i'll never leave you. till the ends of the universe will i stay by your side. that's a promise."
he looks at you with glistened eyes, "you promise?"
"i promise-" your body started twitching, and you could hear the calm but panicked voice of dazai, "breathe with me, you're alright, i'm here." he whispers in your ear as he cradles you. you gripped onto him aa your mouth parts, unable to speak. "look at me [name], it's alright, don't panic, it'll pass." a few minutes went by and soon you managed to compose yourself. you and dazai stared at each other for a moment before you sighed and lifted your arms, "you're right, carry me to the bathroom!"
he carefully scoops you up into his arms and walks to the bathroom, "as my princess wishes!"
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tbh chuuya is pretty similar to dazai when it comes to worrying over you
the only difference is that he worries constantly over you, with both of your lines of work being in the port mafia
"is the damage serious?"
"more than serious.." mori says as he hands chuuya some prescibe pills, "make sure she takes these for the first for weeks."
and ever since that, chuuya has been on your ass, making sure that you took your medication every day
despite your being becoming well, he still couldn't shake the memory out. it struck him in the core
the two of you were overseas as per request of the boss
he trusted that chuuya and his men would get the work done in no time, you worked under him as well so you got to go along too
not a lot of people knew of your relationship with chuuya, only assuming what it is since the two of you are always seen together
since it was an overseas trip to the americas, you packed your made space in your luggage for anything you might buy over there
soon you all arrived to new york to settle some minor conflict between the port mafia and the growing organization there
it was a simple run on the mill plan, get in; beat their ass, take anything they'd consider valuable, and get out
so then the plan was put into action, it started out great like every other plan but one of the grunts slipped up and died, causing a massive uproar
the port mafia and the organization began to fight, chuuya, being the strongest out of everyone had been surrounded by their most strongest
you on the other hand had engaged in an shooting fight with another girl
you were shot in the leg before you shot her in the stomach. as a last attempt to take you down with her she shot up to one of the hanging crates and before you knew it, you were crushed under the heavy weight
chuuya at first didn't notice your injury but when he began to realize your absence on the field he looked around
he screamed your name as he had a rush of adrenaline, kicking down his enemies as he ran over to you
he called for backup and quickly took you outside to where the port mafias medics were at
after a while, you woke up to a very pissed off chuuya who told you that you should've let him handle all the fighting if you couldn't handle it
since you had just woken up you were feeling a little snappy
and for the next two weeks, the two of you weren't really on talking terms
just him making sure you take your medication, until you were finally struck with a seizure
what a scary first experience that was
"what's wrong?" chuuya asks, he was holding out a glass of water and two pills in his other hand. "nothings wrong." you replied dryly, still staring down at your phone. you could hear the annoyed sigh that came out of chuuyas mouth, "well, clearly something is." you didn't answer and that was starting to get on his nerves. chuuya hasn't been feeling like himself lately, he felt like absolute shit. you two had an argument that should've ended weeks ago but here you both were, still finding things to snap at. and worse of all, he couldn't protect you like how he promised he would. "look," he says, he just wanted your fight to be over with and he'd be damn if you pass away without him apologizing, "im sorry for what i said the other day. i know you're capable, i'm just..." he didn't know how to put it into words, so he stood there for a minute, "just, wish i could've done more for you."
this time it was your turn to sigh, "chuuya," you called out to him, you turned off your phone to pay attention to him, "you already do more than enough for me." you took the water and pills from him, digesting the two. "...don't be angry at yourself." it was if you read his mind, "im not." — "you are." — "..." he remained quiet as he slowly sat on the edge of the bed. "i am..." he says quitely.
when you didn't answer him, he kept going, "i know that i struggle with being vulnerable with myself around others, but if it's with you.." he stops to look at you, but his eyes widen in shock. he stood up as he watched your figure tremble under the sheets, "hey! what the hell! what the fuck?! [name]?!" he nearly shouts, he dialed mori's number as he cradled your body against his. when mori picked up he was speaking a mantra, mori had to tell him to shut up and stop panicking as it would worsen your seizure. "seizure?" he mumbles, "yes seizure, chuuya-kun. make sure she has water near her when she comes to." he told chuuya to keep him on speaker, instructing him on what to do.
"hey, it's alright, [name] i'm here..." he whispers, "is she alright?" — "i think." and when you came to, you felt warmth, "roll her on her side." you heard someone that wasn't chuuya say, and you were rolled on your side as drool came out of your mouth. "[name], you with me?" chuuya asks you softly, and you hum. "thank god- okay, um, boss is coming over tomorrow morning to give you different medicine, okay?" he kisses your temple.
"feeling okay?" he asks, "mhm, yeah.." you mutter, you felt a little out of it but he was there to ground you.
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°° ©churuai ; don't repost my works to other sites, copy/plagiarize my works, or translate my works into a different language without my permission. if you intend to use most of my ideas from a post of mine, please don't forget to credit ♡
rbs and comments appreciated <3<3
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hard-core-super-star · 8 months
Note
A request for hailee x reader. Reader is Hailees' main backup dancer. There are edits of the two over the years, fans speculate that the two are together due to the tension between them in said edits and videos.
one step forward, three steps back [H.Steinfeld]
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pairing: hailee steinfeld x reader
summary: when hailee tries to convince you to ride the publicity wave and appear in her new music video, you’re forced to accept the truth of your feelings for her.
warnings: the weirdest mix of angst and fluff you've ever seen; stubborn idiots arguing instead of being honest; quite possibly the most dialogue i've ever written for one fic; one mention of the JA stunt because i am still bitter about it
wordcount: 1.6k
a/n: rubix stop mentioning sunkissing in everything challenge. don't mind me, just trying to manifest hailee's music back to life...pun absolutely intended. [ever write a song so gay you have to go into hiding as soon as it comes out? i'm sure taylor swift knows the feeling all too well] anywho, i got a little carried away with this one and it shows. hope you enjoy <3
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If someone had told you your entire life would be flipped on its head just from a few short video edits and a trending hashtag you would have called them mad. Unfortunately, Emily Dickinson had a point when she said,“Much madness is divinest sense.”
The ‘madness’ in this case was the sheer amount of people who had started spreading the before-mentioned videos around and the ‘sense’ being your incredibly obvious feelings for the person who was essentially your boss. It’s a bit of an oversimplification, and the biggest reason you have not to tell Hailee the truth, but the point still stands.
You still have no idea how things got blown so out of proportion since the speculation around you two has been swirling around since day one. Clearly, not having any new music projects to focus on has driven her fans into madness.
It would be fine…if you and Hailee were still on speaking terms.
Are you being dramatic? Maybe a little but your friendship or relationship or whatever the hell it was that you two had going on at some point isn’t what it used to be. The blame isn’t entirely on her but your own bitterness about the situation tends to cloud your judgment sometimes…okay, most of the time.
Right now is a perfect example of it.
You’ve been staring at your phone for what feels like hours, mentally debating if you should give in and reply to Hailee’s text. You really, really, don’t want to but what other choice do you have? It’s not like you can ignore her forever, you’ve already promised her you’ll join her on her next tour, whenever it finally happens.
You decide to suck it up and agree to meet her for coffee. The last thing you need is to be seen hanging out with her right now but you’re sure it’s all part of the plan. A plan that probably didn’t come from the singer herself, but rather from the group of people who act like they want the best for her but are really just trying to sell her image like it’s a product.
Because who cares about morals and dignity as long as you get streams on your music, right?
You shove your bitter thoughts out of your mind for now and focus on getting ready to see Hailee again.
The hours simultaneously feel like seconds and eternity and before you know it, you’re sitting at a semi-secluded table in a random coffee shop with your knee bouncing up and down like there are ants crawling up your pants. No amount of breathing exercises or grounding techniques can stop your heart from hammering in your chest from the mere thought of the brunette.
You’re not sure what she wants from you, you just have a bad feeling about it. Although maybe that’s your broken heart talking, you can’t be sure.
You notice her the second she walks in and you do an awful job at pretending you’re looking at something on your phone instead of her. You act like you can’t see the smile on her face from this distance just like she acts like she can’t see you. Both of you look ridiculous but neither of you mind.
She finally joins you after another eternity of waiting and despite all the questions that are swirling around in your brain, you force yourself to wait for her to go first.
“I need your help with something.”
After months of not talking to each other, that’s what she leads with. You would complain about her lack of greeting but you’re grateful she’s getting right to the point so you can wrap this up and go back to avoiding your feelings. “That’s a bold start.”
She rolls her eyes, more out of habit than anything else. “It’s been five seconds, are we going to fight already?”
“I guess that depends on what you want me to do,” you reply.
“I want you in the SunKissing music video. We finally got the green light for it and it’s the perfect way to take advantage of all the buzz around the two of us.”
You can’t help but wonder if she’s joking. The ‘buzz’ around you two is just people speculating and piecing together the history Hailee has spent so long ignoring and rewriting. History that’s filled with arguments. bitter kisses, unspoken confessions and stolen glances.
You force the memories out of your mind. Along with the weird ache you feel every time you focus on Hailee’s eyes.
“Me dancing in the background of your music video isn’t going to be a trending topic, Hailee.”
She shrugs. “It will be if we kiss.”
“You’re joking,” you say, unable to hide the way her words take you by surprise.
“I’m serious.”
“You’re choosing now to come out? You think this will make everyone forget about your little stunt with the QB?”
Your mention of the New York stunt hits her hard and if you’re being honest, that’s exactly why you brought it up. You’re not interested in turning your private life into Hailee’s next big scandal. Even if it means pissing her off until she changes her mind.
The way she clenches her jaw is all you need to know you’re not going to like her next words. “It’s not a coming out. It’s an acting project.”
“You’re never going to change are you?” You ask, not sure whether to be impressed or disappointed by her idea.
“Come on, y/n.” She leans forward and places her hand on top of yours. You half-expect a camera flash to accompany the action but you seem to be safe for now. “You know you’re the only person I trust with this.”
Her words would be cute if you hadn’t fallen for them already. Multiple times. It’s always been the same way with her. She gives you a few months of her attention, makes you believe your unspoken affections aren’t one-sided, just to rip it away from you the second you think you’ve made progress.
“You’re the last person in this room who should be talking about trust.”
“Oh my God!” She leans back, her hand slipping away from you and taking any hope of avoiding an argument with it. “When are you going to let that go?”
You’re not even sure what she thinks you’re upset about this time. The list is so long, she could be referencing anything and be completely right. And yet somehow, you’re the one who’s in the wrong for still being upset.
“When you apologize for being a piece of shit,” you say as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world. Which it is. To you, anyway.
The brunette across from you clearly doesn’t feel the same. “That’s unfair.”
“Leading someone on is unfair, Hailee.”
“You are so stubborn. How the hell did I ever sleep with you?”
You can’t tell if she’s joking or not but either way, you don’t want to hear another word from her.
“I’m leaving,” you say as you rise to your feet, ignoring your half-finished drink and the flash of regret that passes through those brown eyes you can’t help but love.
“Shit, shit, y/n, wait!”
“I already did wait or did you forget about that too?”
You don’t give her a chance to answer instead choosing to ignore her rushed apology and walking away like you should have done when this whole conversation started.
You make it about six feet away from the entrance when you hear Hailee’s voice calling after you. “Will you do it if I tell you it was my idea?”
It’s a desperate attempt for your attention and yet you fall for it all the same. Everything inside of you is telling you to leave but you can’t. Not when you’re this close to getting her to be honest with both herself and you.
“If it’s the truth,” you respond with your back still facing her.
“It is.” The scent of her perfume overwhelms you as her hands grip your waist. You fight back the urge to move away from her and allow her to turn you around to look at her. “I told my label it would be good publicity but honestly…I just really miss you.”
You can’t stop yourself from laughing. The sound comes out softer than you thought possible. “You couldn’t call like a normal person?”
“We’re not normal people, y/n,” she says, the ghost of a smile lingering on her lips. “You know that better than anyone. You know me better than anyone.”
“Do I?”
She takes a step closer to you and you hate the way your eyes instantly drop down to her lips. It’s an instinct that no amount of time away from her can rewrite. “Let me prove it to you. Please.”
“You’re not going to fix this with a few kisses, Hailee.”
There’s an unspoken promise in her eyes. One that says she’ll kiss you as many times as she has to until she proves you wrong. And you have no doubt that she will.
Her hands move up from your waist to cup your cheeks. Her movements are slow and careful almost as if she’s waiting for you to change your mind.
In a way, you do because whatever remaining doubt you had about your feelings for the brunette fades away in an instant. You push away all your hesitation and close the gap between your lips.
It’s the sweetest kiss you’ve ever shared. It’s full of almost inaudible sighs, gentle touches, and the overwhelming truth of your desires. Mainly, the desire to keep going.
“One chance,” you whisper as you pull away. “I’ll help you with the music video. I’ll let you in again. Don’t make me regret it.”
“Promise.”
You’re about to tell her not to make promises she can’t keep but she kisses you again before you get the chance to.
159 notes · View notes
hllywdwhre · 3 months
Text
Dreamer, Queen, Prince - Chapter 2
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Pairing: Daemyra x fem!OC
Warnings: Please check masterlist for warnings. This work is 18+, MDNI
Notes: I promise the plot will start picking up soon with lots of angst💀I had to set things up though
Masterlist
It was nightfall before Daemon escorted Viserea back inside the walls of the Keep. He offered to escort her to the dragon pit, but she rejected his offer, saying she had not slept properly in two days and all she wished for was a decent night’s sleep.
Thankfully, she was granted exactly that. The next day was a day of mourning with no council meetings being held and the sun was shining bright through her windows when she finally awoke. The handmaidens were called to her chambers and she was dressed in dragon riding attire. She greeted Rhaenyra in her room, who after taking one glance at how Viserea was dressed, immediately got dressed in her own riding attire.
They were escorted to the dragonpit and mounted their respective dragons and began flying. Neither needed to say where they were going in order to know. Soon they were greeted with the shores of Dragonstone and Viserea felt a weight lift off her shoulders.
The two landed in the field where there was plenty for their dragons to eat and walked to the far edge of it before either spoke.
“Do you remember when we snuck off right before your tenth nameday?” Rhaenyra asked, settling down in the field and Viserea joined her a moment later, giggling at the memory.
“Yes. I have never seen so many ships showing up to Dragonstone at once.” Viserea’s smile spread across her face slowly, “Or your father’s face turn so red.”
Rhaenyra laughed loudly at the memory and Viserea felt her stomach jump multiple times at the sound.
“You took the fault, saying it was your idea to run away.” Rhaenyra added, looking over at Viserea.
“Even at ten, I knew how much power a nameday’s wish could hold. How could they be mad at the child who just wanted to celebrate her nameday with her closest friend?” Viserea nudged Rhaenyra’s shoulder with her own.
“I think that day is one of my favorite memories. It definitely started one of my favorite traditions.”
“Traditions?”
“Sneaking off to fly here any time we needed a moment away from being the two princesses of the realm.” Rhaenyra answered and Viserea laid her head on her shoulder.
“It has always felt more like home than the keep has. I may know the grounds of the keep more, but Dragonstone will always be the home of the Targaryens.”
“Do you believe home has to be a place?” Rhaenyra asked, her voice curious.
“In what way do you mean?”
“I have visited Dragonstone without you by my side before and it did not hold the same feeling. I could never place why until Alicent and I were in my chambers last night. She held me as I cried, but it brought me only a small portion of the comfort you brought me, and I realized that I was wishing you were there to hold me. You were always the place that brought me the most comfort.” Rhaenyra’s voice had turned shy at the end and Viserea could feel her heart hammering in her chest as she lifted her head from Rhaenyra’s shoulder.
The hours Viserea spent alone in her room pondering her jealousy of Rhaenyra and Alicent’s friendship and realizing why she felt that jealousy, the terror of losing Rhaenyra as a friend, and the guilt she felt at her own inability to be happy for her when a handsome lord offered her his attention played through her mind in a blur.
“You have always been mine, too.” Viserea finally said, afraid to say any more in case Rhaenyra’s words didn’t mean the same to her as they did to Viserea.
“Rea, look at me.” Rhaenyra said, turning her body to face Viserea.
Viserea sat up straight and did as she was told, looking at Rhaenyra and holding her gaze even if the action made her entire body shake slightly.
“Dragons are meant to burn together, we feel safest surrounded by fire. You are the fire that surrounds me when I feel as though I am drowning in the seas. I need to know for my own sanity’s sake if you feel the same.”
Instead of replying, Viserea leaned forward and pressed her lips against Rhaenyra’s. Her world simultaneously came crashing down around her and was rebuilt in the same moment. As she felt Rhaenyra’s lips push back against her own, she felt the new world built stronger. Her world no longer consisted of the pain of so much loss surrounded by the walls of the keep, it was now the feeling of hope surrounded by the very air they flew through while on dragonback.
She wasn’t sure how long their lips stayed connected before Rhaenyra was pulling Viserea onto her lap. Viserea’s hands went into Rhaenyra’s hair while one of Rhaenyra’s hands rested on the girl’s hip and the other on the back of her neck to keep her close. When they finally pulled away from each other, both were breathing heavily and had flushed cheeks.
“I don’t think you truly understand how long I have been wishing for that moment,” Viserea said, her forehead leaned against Rhaenyra’s.
“My apologies for keeping my princess waiting,” Rhaenyra said, smirking up at her.
“You’re forgiven as long as you promise it will not happen again.” Viserea replied, with her own cheeky grin.
“I do not believe myself to be able to go without your kiss anymore.” As if to make her point, Rhaenyra kissed Viserea again and laid back, dragging the other down with her.
The two laid in the grass for a while longer with various topics being discussed between kisses. It was only when the sun began to sink behind the clouds that they finally rose from the grass and headed back to their dragons. Halfway back to King’s Landing, they began shouting joking insults to each other which resulted in a race back to the pit. The two landed at the same time just as they had earlier that week and allowed their dragons to be brought back into the pit.
“One day you will have to show me how you get in so much trouble wandering through the streets.” Rhaenyra said in a low voice as they were escorted back to the keep.
“It will have to be after a day of celebration. I’m not exactly accompanied by a guard and there are only two people in the city I trust to keep me safe.” Viserea told her in the same volume.
“How do you know you can trust them?” Rhaenyra asked curiously.
“Apparently they know of our uncle. He has bought their loyalty to the Targaryen family and I pay my share when I need their services.” Viserea told her honestly. Rhaenyra looked as though she was considering the answer and gave a slow nod.
“I guess gold is a powerful weapon, perhaps even more than Valyrian steel.” Rhaenyra finally replied.
“I wonder if gold is powerful enough to buy the silence of our guards or if we’ll have to find more clever ways to sneak to each other’s rooms every night. I don’t think they will believe that my dreams are suddenly visiting every night.”
“I believe you forget our power as the princesses of the Realm. The only person who holds more power than us currently is Father. One command from us as their princesses and they will be silenced unless Father asks them; and Ser Harrold and Ser Ryden both adore us so I don’t think they would betray our trust unless they had to.”
Viserea locked eyes with her cousin as she thought over what she had just said and the confidence in her eyes was enough to make her believe it.
They reached the keep and were helped out of the carriage. The two made their way to the kitchens where they were greeted with surprised faces. The staff smiled as they grabbed the random foods they wanted and made their way back to the hall that held their chambers.
The two walked into Rhaenyra’s chambers and placed the food on the footrest of her bed. While Rhaenyra bathed and dressed in her nightclothes, Viserea ate, and the two switched once they were finished. With full stomachs and smelling of the rich oils that littered the bathroom, the two eventually curled under Rhaenyra’s sheets.
They continued talking through the night, somehow never running out of topics to discuss. When one topic would seem to come to an end, it would spur on another conversation about a topic related that would only be interrupted when one of them pressed their lips to the other’s. Their responses to each other became more and more labored as exhaustion won over, and in the dark of night, the two fell asleep with Viserea’s head on Rhaenyra’s chest and their arms wrapped around each other.
When the morning sun began creeping through the windows of Rhaenyra’s room, two knocks awoke them from their slumber. Rhaenyra answered the door while Viserea stayed standing out of sight, and when they realized it was just the handmaidens coming to gather Rhaenyra for the first council meeting of the day, they both relaxed. Rhaenyra allowed the two women inside,
“Princess Viserea is also here, she stayed with me last night as I did not wish to be alone.” Rhaenyra informed them, though neither of the women were surprised to see her.
“It is no bother, princesses. I am happy to see that you two have each other as you both go through a difficult time.” Viserea believed the woman that said it was named Laera, though she couldn’t remember the name of the younger maiden that had joined her.
“I will go and retrieve Princess Viserea’s handmaidens as they are looking for you, also. The King Viserys said you both are to attend today’s council meetings to avoid any confusion of who’s duty today’s would be since none were held yesterday.” The younger girl left the room before anyone could respond, though she returned moments later with both of Viserea’s handmaidens in tow.
After the two were both dressed and their hair had been styled, they made their way to the council room. For once, neither were late and both arrived at the same time as the rest of the council.
Seeing the king made Viserea’s blood run cold, though she made sure not to show it. Aemma’s death flashed through her mind and she forced the images back. She couldn’t let her own feelings of the matter get in the way of her duties. Getting under Otto Hightower’s skin was one thing, but outwardly showing her new distaste for the king could very well end her life.
Two jugs of wine were on a table off to the side instead of one so that neither princess would be empty handed as they sat in on the council meeting. They placed the cups and filled each of them before the king sat down, signaling the start of the meeting.
“Before we begin, Your Grace, I have a report I feel compelled to share.” Otto says, causing Rhaenyra and Viserea to look at each other from where they stood on opposite sides of the table. “You know, Your Grace, how I cannot abide by gossip-“
“Please, Otto, gossip on.” The dread in Viserys’ voice was not lost on Viserea or Corlys as they both looked at each other with smiles that they were forcing back.
“Last night, Prince Daemon bought out one of the pleasure houses on the Street of Silk.” Otto said. This caused Viserea’s smile to drop quickly and she looked to Rhaenyra.
Anytime Otto mentioned Daemon’s name, it was sure to be an insult of some sort. The two had spoken before of how they viewed their uncle with a similar respect and, sometimes, envy. They were both protective over him and both of the dragons being prodded in the same room was not a smart idea for anyone who did not wish to be bathed in dragon fire.
“For what purpose?” Viserys asked Otto. Rhaenyra and Viserea looked between each other and the two men, having no more wine glasses to fill.
“To entertain officers of the City Watch and other friends of his.” After a brief pause, Otto continued on, “He toasted the passed Prince Baelon, styling him, ‘The Heir for a Day.’”
Viserea felt her heart hammer in her chest, not believing it until Otto went on to further say he had multiple witnesses who viewed the evening as a celebration. She locked eyes with Rhaenyra again and was met with a pained look equal to what she felt.
Both of the girls jump as Viserys sends his wine glass to shatter on the floor of the council room. Viserea and Rhaenyra move at the same time, both in sync with each other and not needing to verbally communicate to work in tandem. As Viserea carefully cleans the wine glass off the floor and reassures Viserys that she is okay to do so, Rhaenyra fills another glass for him and sets it a couple inches farther away from him than the previous.
The council meeting continues as normal after the outburst was made, though both girls stay suspiciously quiet. Viserea can feel Corlys eyeing her more than once in suspicion. Where one of the two would usually voice their opinion, they are quiet. They give each other brief glances as they move to keep wine glasses filled, but neither speaks a word.
The council meeting runs longer than usual, having two days worth of issues to handle instead of one. When they are finally dismissed, the Princesses only have enough time to speak to each other in the halls on the way to their lessons.
“Do you believe he said it?” Rhaenyra asked. She did not need any more clarification to understand what she was asking.
“I wish it was a lie, but the Hand is not a stupid man. An accusation that could cost the Rogue his tongue or even his life is not one to be made without solid proof.” Viserea is careful as she speaks. Names are easier for those to translate from Valyrian, so she makes sure to only use the nicknames the two had given the various members of the council to maintain secrecy.
“I hate that I feel more anger for my father than I do for Rogue. He has not spoken to me since mother’s funeral and now Rogue gives my brother that died in the cradle such a treacherous name and it is my father that I hold more anger for.” The Valyrian sounded enchanting falling from Rhaenyra’s lips, especially when spoken in anger. If it wasn’t for the topic, Viserea knew she could listen to her speak in it for hours uninterrupted.
“I agree with your anger, though it is for different reasons. I spoke to Rogue of the dream, among other things, once Rhaenys’ Hill had cleared and it feels as though he has used the contents of the dream to further mock him.”
“Did you tell him of the entire dream?” Rhaenyra asked, “I know you’re withholding part of it to prevent me some pain and I am not asking you to tell me of it…”
“You just wish to know how deep the betrayal I feel is?” Viserea questioned and Rhaenyra nodded, “He knows of the whole dream. I also told him how I view our family and he still made the remarks.”
“Yet you still hold more anger towards Father than him?” Rhaenyra questioned.
“Issa. (Yes.)”
“Is it because Father did something I do not know of?”
“Issa.”
“Do I need to know of it, or would it only bring me more pain over something I cannot change?”
“He regrets what he did, you do not need to hold the anger or pain that his actions would bring you.” Viserea looked to Rhaenyra who was already looking at her. Rhaenyra looked at her a moment longer then nodded.
“I trust your judgment.” Rhaenyra replied as they approached their meeting place with the Septa.
Their afternoon lessons went by quickly and Viserea welcomed the distraction from the betrayal she felt due to Daemon’s actions. Learning about the Old Gods of Valyria was more comforting than pondering over the current valyrian descendants' familial issues.
When the girls were informed of Viserys’ absence from dinner for the third night in a row, Viserea could not help the anger she felt. She had grown used to the feelings of grief, but she did not understand how a father could abandon his daughter to deal with those feelings on her own. Viserea thought Rhaenyra herself might breathe dragonfire when it was a member of the Kingsguard that came to collect them instead of Viserys himself.
“Father.” Rhaenyra greeted once they enter the altar room.
“Your Grace.” Viserea greets, changing her usual greeting to one of formality.
Rhaenyra notices the change in greeting and briefly looks at Viserea, but turns her attention back to Viserys instead.
“You haven’t spoken a word to us since Mother’s funeral, and then you send your Kingsguard to collect us?” There is no mistaking the anger in Rhaenyra’s voice. It mimics that in which Viserea feels.
“Balerion was the last living creature to have seen Old Valyria before the Doom… Its greatness and its flaws…When you look at the dragons, what do you see?” The King’s question is directed towards Rhaenyra, but both of the ladies are clearly taken aback by it.
“What?” Rhaenyra asked him.
“Answer me. It’s important. What do you see?”
“I suppose… I see us.”
“Tell me.”
“Everyone says Targaryens are closer to gods than to men. But they say that because of our dragons; without them, we’re just like everyone else.”
Whatever answer Viserys was looking for, Rhaenyra seems to have given him. He looks pleased as he turns to Viserea next,
“And what do you make of your dreams?” He asked.
Viserea took a step closer to where he and Rhaenyra stood, taking a moment of her own to gather her thoughts.
“Many Valyrians, Targaryens and Velarions alike, have prayed to Tessarion to give them the gift of dreams. It adds to our illusion of being closer to gods than to men, as do the dragons, but my dreams could stop tomorrow the same way dragons could stop choosing to obey our commands. Then we are the same as everyone else with only lilac eyes to say we were different at one time.”
Viserys nods at Viserea’s answer, being just as pleased in her answer as he was in Rhaenyra’s.
“The idea that we control the dragons is an illusion. They are a power that man should have never trifled with - one that brought Valyria its doom. And, if we don’t mind our own history, it will do the same to us.” Viserys looks back and forth between both girls before settling his attention on Rhaenyra. “A Targaryen must understand this to be King… or Queen.”
Viserea feels her breath hitch for a moment at what Viserys is implying, but does not interrupt or reach for Rhaenyra’s hand as she so desperately wants.
“I’m sorry, Rhaenyra. I’ve wasted the years since you were born wanting for a son. But, you are the very best of your mother. I believe, as I know she did, that you could be a great ruling queen.”
“Daemon is your heir.” Rhaenyra argued.
“Daemon was not made to wear the crown, but I believe that you were.”
“You summoned Viserea here with me.” Rhaenyra pointed out, bringing Viserea slightly out of her state of shock and causing Viserys to look at the other princess.
“You two have not been separated since birth. I cannot make you both Queens of the Realm, but I know that you two will have great influence over each other.” Viserys said, his eyes flickering between the two.
“She will be my Hand of the Queen.” Rhaenyra said quickly, causing Viserea’s head to snap towards her.
“Rhaenyra-“ Viserea started, but she was interrupted by her.
“No.” Rhaenyra looked to her father and held eye contact with him, a look of determination on her face, “Viserea is to be named my Hand when I am named your Heir. You brought her here because you knew I would value her opinion over everyone else’s. You know what naming a woman your Heir will cause. I will not risk Viserea becoming an object of the background.”
Viserys looks to Viserea, silently asking her if she wants what Rhaenyra has offered to her. When Viserea nods, Viserys speaks again,
“This is no trivial gesture, my Princesses. A dragon’s saddle is one thing, but the Iron Throne is the most dangerous seat in the realm.”
Viserea subconsciously stepped closer to Rhaenyra, now directly behind her right side, as if already prepared to protect Rhaenyra from whatever may come to harm her. Visery let a small smile cross his face at the sight though it quickly fades.
“I’m going to tell you both something now. It won’t be easy for you to understand, but you must hear it.” Viserys said, drawing both of their attention, “The histories tell us that Aegon looked across the Blackwater from Dragonstone and saw a rich land ripe for the capture. But ambition alone is not what drove him to conquest. It was a dream.”
Viserys allows both of them a moment to grasp what he has said and Viserea’s heart jumped in her chest. She doesn’t stop herself this time from gripping Rhaenyra’s hand.
“Viserea is not the first Dreamer since Daenys, who saw the end of Valyria. She is the first since Aegon, who foresaw the end of the world of men. It is to begin with a terrible winter dusting out of the distant north. Aegon saw absolute darkness riding on those winds, and whatever is within, will destroy the world of the living.”
“What is it? What’s in the darkness?” Rhaenyra voiced Viserea’s thoughts.
“If Aegon knew, he never said. But he saw that there would be a light brilliant enough to stand against it: the fire of dragons. Whenever the Great Winter comes, all of Westeros will have to stand against it. And if the world of men is to survive, a Targaryen must be seated on the Iron Throne. A king, or queen, strong enough to unite the realm against the cold and dark.” Viserys pulled his dagger from its hilt and held it in the light of the fire, allowing the flames to dance across the surface bring light to the engravings, “Aegon called his Dream ‘The Song of Ice and Fire.’”
Viserea feels Rhaenyra start to return the grip on her hand as if the two were drawing strength from each other in that moment.
“This secret has passed from king to heir since Aegon’s time. Jaehaerys was able to unite the realm as one again, but if any war is to happen again before the Song… I believe it is time that the king or queen has a trusted ally to help carry the secret. You two must both promise to carry this secret. Carry it and protect it. Promise me this, Rhaenyra. Promise me this, Viserea.”
Both of the Princesses respond as one,
“I promise.”
“Tomorrow the lords of the realm will gather in the throne room and pledge their loyalty to you as my named heir,” Viserys looks from Rhaenyra to Viserea, “and to you as the future Hand of the Queen. When Jaehaerys told me of the Song, I did not sleep that night. I ask that you two do not escape on dragonback or run through the city streets tonight. Find comfort within the walls of the keep, however you may need to.”
When both of them agree, Viserys dismisses himself, leaving the two standing alone and speechless for a long while. They both silently leave the alter room, their hands still intertwined, and it isn’t until they reach the privacy of Viserea’s chambers that Rhaenyra speaks.
“I apologize if I have spoken for you tonight. If you do not wish to be my hand, I understand.” She said, causing Viserea to turn to look at her.
“You have offered me the highest honor in the realm besides the throne itself. There is nothing to apologize for.” Viserea told her, sitting next to her and leaning her head on her shoulder.
“I assumed since I would value your opinion over anyone else’s, it seemed only right that you sit beside me and actually get to wield that power.”
“Better me than another cunt like Otto.” Viserea doesn’t realize what she has said until the words leave her mouth, but by then she and Rhaenyra have both turned to a fit of giggles.
Once they finally calm themselves, Rhaenyra sighs.
“I suppose tonight we will have to sleep in our own beds. I feel that tomorrow we will be awoken with a sense of urgency that would not be aided if we are having to be tracked down.” Rhaenyra’s words sadden Viserea, but she knows they are true.
“At least that’s one thing that can be changed once you are Queen. It will be much easier to see each other when I am moved to my own room within the Queen’s apartments.” Viserea pointing out this fact brought a smile to Rhaenyra’s face.
“I suppose you’re right.” Rhaenyra gently placed her lips on Viserea’s and stood.
“I’ll see you in the morning, Nyra.” Viserea said, kissing Rhaenyra’s hand before letting it fall.
Rhaenyra stood at the front of the throne room while Viserea stood at the front of the line of lords gathered to pledge an oath of fealty to Viserys and Rhaenyra. Rhaenyra was dressed in an intricate gown of red with golden embroidery and jewels dancing across the chest and arms. A golden cloak embroidered with dragon heads rested on her shoulders. Viserea wore a red gown of her own, though she wore no cloak and her embroidery was silver and danced across the torso and chest of her dress. Both wore the headpieces that Daemon had gifted them for Viserys’ coronation as children. While Rhaenyra could not wear the necklace he had gifted her, Viserea wore the earrings and had allowed Rhaenyra to borrow her ring for the ceremony.
“Viserea, the Winter Dragon, of House Targaryen, Princess of the Realm.” Grand Maester Mellos’ voice boomed over the crowd and shocked Viserea back to the present.
With each step closer to Rhaenyra, Viserea felt her anxiety and nerves melt away and allowed herself to look like every inch of the power she held, standing tall and keeping her face impassive. She would be the first to swear loyalty to Rhaenyra, and then the rest of the lords would swear their loyalty to both of the Princesses. Viserea did not need a dream to know that this was what was right. She was meant to be by Rhaenyra’s side, as both her wife and as her hand. While she may only be able to be by her side as one in the present, Viserea was willing to wait a hundred lifetimes to stand beside her as her wife. The day would come, and she knew it.
Kneeling, Viserea spoke the modified set of words that only she would speak that day,
“I, Viserea Targaryen, the Winter Dragon, swear my loyalty to King Viserys and his named heir, the Princess Rhaenyra. I pledge fealty to them and shall defend them against all enemies in good faith and without deceit. As Hand of the Queen, I will give my life to aiding her rule and helping to protect and better the Realm. I swear this by the old gods and the new. If I fail, may Tessarion take away the gift of Dreams.” Viserea had argued for her modified versions of the usual oath of fealty and promises of the Hand, and after an argument that the Grand Maester said would take five years off of his life, her version had been allowed.
Viserea stood and, as she walked to stand next to Rhaenyra, saw Viserys give a small nod to her. Turning to face the gathered lords, Viserea kept a face of confidence and power.
“Corlys of House Velaryon, Lord of the Tides and Master of Driftmark.” The maester said next.
Corlys walked up to the two and kneeled before them,
“I, Corlys Velaryon, Lord of Driftmark, promise to be faithful to King Viserys and his named heir, the Princess Rhaenyra, and her named Hand, the Princess Viserea. I pledge fealty to them and shall defend them against all enemies in good faith and without deceit. I swear this by the old gods and the new.”
Viserea offers Corlys a nod of respect as he stands, having always admired the man.
“Lord Hobert Hightower, Beacon of the South, Defender of the Citadel, and Voice of Oldtown.”
Viserea had met Hobert only once and was utterly unimpressed. Perhaps it was Viserea’s unwillingness to say her faith was in the Seven and hers instead lied with the Gods and Goddesses of Old Valyria, but she knew the feeling was mutual.
“I, Lord Hobert Hightower, Beacon of the South, Defender of the Citadel, and Voice of the Oldtown, promise to be faithful to King Viserys and his named heir, the Princess Rhaenyra, and her named Hand, the Princess Viserea. I pledge fealty to them and shall defend them against all enemies in good faith and without deceit. I swear this by the old gods and the new.”
Viserea offers no nod to the Hightower Lord or the next lords that pledge their loyalty, but she pays attention to which lords show their obvious distaste of the oath.
When she could, she would look around the throne room, hoping to see the familiar long, blonde hair that usually gave her comfort. Viserea was unsure if she was relieved to not see it, or if it only added to the sense of betrayal she felt.
“Boremund Baratheon, Lord of Storm’s End.” The statement snapped Viserea back to the present and she locked eyes with the man.
He is one of the ones Viserea takes mental note of. His eyes flicker back and forth between Rhaenyra and Viserea and Viserea squints her eyes into a glare. The look on both hers and Rhaenyra’s face makes the lord kneel and recite the oath.
“Benjen Stark, Lord of Winterfell.” Grand Maester Mellos calls forward Viserea’s cousin and she wipes the angry look from her face, instead offering one of warmth and respect.
When Benjen approaches, he gives both of the princesses a small, but genuine, smile as he kneels.
“I, Benjen Stark, Lord of Winterfell, promise to be faithful to King Viserys and his named heir, the Princess Rhaenyra, and her named Hand, the Princess Viserea. I pledge fealty to them and shall defend them against all enemies in good faith and without deceit. I swear this by the old gods and the new.”
When he stands, both Rhaenyra and Viserea give him the same small nods of respect Viserea had offered Corlys which the Lord returns.
“The Winter Dragon” was a name given to her by the Starks when she was still a babe in the womb. She had grown up hearing herself referred to as such, and it was when she was ten and three that she asked for the name to be used when she was announced. It was a way for Viserea to ensure that the memory of her mother or Winterfell’s loyalty to her was not erased.
When the last of the oaths were sworn, Viserys rose from behind the two and they turned towards him. He held eye contact with both of them as Rhaenyra nodded and then Viserea, promising again that they would carry and protect the secret. Both turned back to the room of lords and Viserea went to stand next to Benjen and his son Rickon as the Maester placed the golden collar around Rhaenyra’s shoulders.
Viserys voice carries over the room this time,
“I, Viserys Targaryen, first of his name, King of the Andals and the Rhoynar and the First Men, Lord of the Seven Kingdoms and Protector of the Realm do hereby name Rhaenyra Targaryen the Princess of Dragonstone and heir to the Iron Throne.”
Viserea held eye contact with Rhaenyra for a moment before following the lead of the rest of the nobles in the room and kneeling in front of her.
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eyelessjacksslut · 8 months
Text
Your Beautiful To Me
insecure fem reader x softdom Dabi, NSFW, vanilla, praising
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"You're so adorable," he tells you, his kisses straying from your mouth, trailing across your cheek and onto your jaw. "I–," you struggle to find your words, your brain feeling like it's going crazy.
As you doubt how to respond, Dabi pulls back, glancing at your face. A twinkle appears in his gaze as he realizes, and he grins, one of his hands moving to rest against your waist. "Do you not like being praised?" he asks, his words being whispered into your ear in a teasing tone. "Does it embarrass you hearing that your skin is so delicate and soft, and that I want to touch you all over and feel ever inch of it.”
Dabi's statement has your heart hammering against your ribs, and you instinctively raise your hands to hide your face."I think I've been neglecting praising you. I guess I'll have to play catch up tonight, won't I, y/n?"
You've always been the type to get flustered at compliments, even though you don't like showing it, so the thought of being praised by Dabi has your heart fluttering. "Now, we have to do something about this-" Dabi tugs at your shirt and shorts, "before we can do anything else, right?" he says with a smirk.
You slowly stand up, not to eager to take off your clothes since you've always been insecure about your body, and the fact that Dabi is staring at you doesn't really help either. "Princess, look at me-" you slowly lift your gaze from the ground into Dabi's eyes, "look, I can see that you're insecure, but you've got absolutely nothing to worry about okay? No matter what you look like, I promise I'll fuck you and make you cum like never before." With those words, Dabi stands up and slowly starts undressing you, leaving you naked with your face flushed in a pink color, and with no words left.
"Oh? Normally you're so quick to talk back, but now you're just speechless, huh?" Without wasting time, Dabi picks you up and puts you on the bed, his tall figure leaning over you. He takes one of your nipples in his mouth as his hand moves to fondle the other. As he sucks and squeezes, you can't help but whine, and tiny, embarrassing sounds bubble up in your throat.
"God, your tits are beautiful," he moans, being sure to press kisses to every inch of the soft skin. "I just want to leave marks all over them."Dabi takes your nipple into his mouth once more, and your chest curves into his touch. He smiles at the movement, his gaze settling on your face as he gives your nipple a small bite, watching as your eyelashes flutter, lips parting in a gasp.
"God, you're so fucking cute," he breathes. You can see the hunger in his eyes, it's like a switch has finally been flicked in his brain. Up until now, he's been totally content with moving slowly and teasing you, but now he looks like he's craving more."You know, you can stop with the praise and just fuck me already," you tell him, hoping for a little bit of relief yourself.
"And she's back with that sassy tone." the sparkle in his eye tells you that despite his own desires, he doesn't intend to stop praising you anytime soon. "Besides," suddenly, he reaches down, his fingers scooting beneath the hem of your bottoms and finding your pussy. You gasp as his fingers nestle between your thighs, gathering your arousal. "I think that, despite your outward reactions, you get off on my praise."
Your lips part, but no words come out. You can only stare at him, thighs shaking with need as Dabi rubs his fingers against your clit, his eyes carefully watching your reactions. "You're shaking," he teases, glancing up at you with a grin that honestly makes you want to kick him. You're not exactly sure how long he's been praising you, but it's been too long, and you just desperately want him to fuck you.
"Please. Please fuck me," you breathe, desperation painted clear on your face. "Do you admit that you're good enough for me? That you're beautiful, and that you should never feel insecure?" "Yes, yes! I'm fucking adorable, and I know you want to stick your cock in me, so do it already!" you whine, your hips wiggling in his hold. He giggles.
"God, you're so cute." He sits back, pulling his shirt over his head and discarding it on the floor beside your bed—his pants following soon after. As he pulls his pants down, you watch his cock jump out, curving up against his stomach. He drags the head of his dick between your pussy. It's obvious that as much as he was holding himself back, he was beginning to near his breaking point as well.
Before you can think of anything more to say, Dabi is thrusting himself inside you. Your breath catches at this sudden change, but the tension held in your body is quick to melt away as a sense of satisfaction settles in your gut. This is what you've been waiting for.
"More, please." And the villainous guy is happy to comply. He fucks into you with just the perfect amount of roughness, enough to have your toes curling, and the bed rocking, his cock brushing up against your g-spot with every movement.
The sensation quickly has you coming undone, your spine curving off the mattress and your mouth hanging open, quiet cries sneaking past your lips."D- Dabi, please at this rate I'm g- going to cum soon!" you moan incoherently.
"God, just look at you," he speaks, his hands settling on your waist as he grinds against you. You look so pretty beneath him, just whining and begging for him. "Oh fuck, Dabi" you cry, your skull pressing into the mattress as your orgasm builds within you. All the while, he picks up his pace, little moans of pleasure rolling off his tongue as he fucks you.
As much as he loves to tease, he's enthralled that he's finally getting to take you like this. To feel your pussy clench around his dick, to see your tits bounce, to watch you struggle to find words to say. Your body is right on the brink of release, and it's all thanks to him.Your brain feels like jello, your eyes struggling to stay open. You feel your pussy starts to clench around his dick, and you know that you'll cum soon.
"Fuck princess I'm almost cumming." he says, biting his lip, and you can't wait a second longer. With a high-pitched cry, you come all over his cock. The sensation of you clenching and cumming on his cock causes his pace to falter, a quiet curse leaving him as he loses himself. He fucks into you one last time, before he cums as well.
The next few moments are a blur, the two of you lost in your combined bliss as exhaustion replaces previous feelings of need.
"Let's do this again sometime cutie."
THIS IS MY FIRST TIME WRITING I’m hoping it’s okay😭😭
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