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#mostly empty anyways so who cares
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Also to the old french guy at the library who loudly corrected my pronunciation of montréal (the t is silent), you're absolutely right, but i hate you now. Who cares about canada ihave never spoken about canada to another french person in my life how was i supposed to remember that?
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13eyond13 · 7 months
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hysteria-things · 2 months
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Hii first of all i love your work, i have a request can you do a smut with chris and matt, like a threesome
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PURE ECSTASY (part two)
read part one here
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𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: bf!dom!matt, pervert!dom!chris x reader
𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: you’ve been feeling guilty for what you did, but you don’t have the balls to tell matt. one night, he shows up at your house… and he’s not alone.
𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: PURE FILTH, THREESOME, swearing, oral (female and male receiving), A LOT of degrading, some praising, p in v, cuck matt lol, spanking, daddy kink, sex tape, unprotected sex (nope!), hair gripping, ROUGH
𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 2,080
𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞: chris and matt are cocky asf in this and they’re a little mean🫣
honorable note: happy birthday @whatrulookingat11 🤭
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arguing bounces off the walls in the living room, the three boys bickering back and forth with each other. well, it’s mostly chris and matt.
there’s a high chance they don’t even know what the argument is about anymore because this has been going on for minutes.
“you’re so infuriating.” matt says sternly to chris, who’s scrolling on his phone with no care in the world.
“then don’t piss me off and i won’t be,” he replies, not bothering to look at his brother.
“you guys give me such a fucking headache.” nick butts it, getting up from the couch. “i’m going to go to my room and edit. don’t murder each other while i’m gone.”
he walks out, matt still ranting as chris blocks his voice out.
he opens his hidden album, tapping on the video of you and him. he smirks, cutting his brother off. “want to see something cool?”
matt’s words are cut off, and he stares blankly at chris. “what?”
“come look at this.”
he’s hesitant, but slowly lowers himself down next to his brother. chris sighs, turning his hand away from his face so he can show matt. he makes sure the volume is high, but not so high that nick can hear.
matt’s face turns to disgust, because why the fuck could chris be possibly showing him a sex tape. “why the fuck are you showing me this?”
chris smiles menacingly. “you’ll see.”
the video portrays chris’s point of view railing into you, your moans and squeals coming out of the phone speaker. then, the camera moves to a face. your face.
you’re completely wanton, his hand gripped tightly on the top of your head. “say hi to matt, ma.”
“mm— h-hi, matt,”
matt rips the phone out of chris’ hand, taking a closer look at if what he’s seeing isn’t a hallucination. chris loves the thrill of seeing matt’s face change from confusion to shock in a matter of milliseconds.
“this pussy’s fucking incredible. thanks for letting me use her, man.”
there’s no way he can watch the whole thing, so he throws the phone onto chris’s lap.
matt’s weirdly calm, emotionless even. “what… the hell did you do?”
“i fucked your bitch.”
he wasn’t kidding when he said that if matt pisses him off he’ll show him the video. chris always keeps his word.
placing your now empty bowl from dinner down, there’s a knock at your door. you look at the time, and it’s pretty late on a weekday.
you get up anyway, walking over to the front door and seeing none other than matt and chris standing there. “hey?” you question, feeling intimidated.
“can we come in?” matt asks, as chris just casually walks inside and makes himself at home.
matt shrugs, closing the door. you walk back to the living room, chris scanning his surroundings while matt takes a seat in the sofa chair.
he extends an arm, indicating for you to come sit on his lap.
“so, uh… what’s up?” you ask nervously, sitting down on him. chris walks in front of you guys, glancing up at matt.
“did you fuck chris?” he asks, getting straight to the point. your eyes widen.
shit.
“n-no.” you stammer. “why do you ask? that’s crazy.”
his hand travels down your body, lightly squeezing your breast before putting his hand down your pajama shorts. he pinches your clit, making you yelp.
“i’m going to ask you again.” he says, just as chris starts to get on his knees. “did. you. fuck. chris?”
“no!” you protest, chris slowly pulling down your shorts and panties.
“we got ourselves a liar,” he smirks.
“i-i didn’t—“ you get distracted once he starts to kiss your inner thighs.
he chuckles, his breath hitting your folds. “she’s wet already.”
matt starts to rub at your clit and you pout. “you’re going to make this way worse for yourself, baby. just admit it.” he tuts. “or maybe i need to show you instead.”
“i think you should.” chris sighs.
taking his phone out of his pocket, he opens his messages with chris and presses on the video. he dangles the phone in your face. “ringing any bells? this was you a week ago.”
when matt says that, the man between your legs flattens his tongue on your pussy before licking strands.
you whine, turning your head before a hand grips your jaw. “look at it. look at how much of a slut you are.”
“i-i’m sorry.” you apologize, tears brimming your eyes. “i’m sorry, matt.”
he takes the hand on your jaw and brings it back to your clit, rubbing on it hard as chris inserts his muscle into your hole. “you don’t seem that sorry, since my brother is tongue-fucking you and you seem to be enjoying it.”
you moan once chris digs deeper, squirming on your boyfriend’s lap. “if you’re gonna act like a slut you’re going to be treated like one.”
you squeeze your eyes tight as matt rubs circles and chris eats you out like a madman. the video still plays, and you’re starting to replay that night in your head.
“daddy! g-gonna cum, daddy.” the speakers of the phone boom.
the mixture of chris’ filthy words he said to you last week and your sounds make you even more aroused, your legs shaking and squeezing his head.
“gonna cum nice and deep in ya, so you’ll be walking around for days with a swollen belly full of it. this is exactly how sluts like you should be treated. isn’t that right?”
“ngh— y-yes, daddy. cum in m-me, please.”
a string of moans falls from your lips before you cum all over chris’ face. he removes himself, giving you time to breathe.
he starts unbuckling his belt. it’s a little difficult being that he’s still on the floor, but now he’s sitting.
matt removes his hand, putting his phone away as well. chris grabs your arms and yanks you to the floor so you’re straddling him. “what-what are you—” you’re cut off by the stretch of him, pulling you down on his dick.
you look around with glassy eyes, matt now unbuckling his belt right by your head. “you already fucked him once. i’m sure you can do it again.”
chris thrusts from below you, your eyes immediately rolling back and moaning so desperately. the phone comes out once again and he leans back pressing record at how you look on top of him.
“f-fuck. chris—” his hand makes contact with your ass.
“try again.”
“d-daddy…”
“sorry, what did you say? i don’t think he heard you.” he smirks, looking at matt who’s rolling his eyes. “say it, ma. what do you call me?”
he spanks you again, and you cry out from the pain. “daddy!”
“that’s right, and who makes you feel this way?”
what a douchebag matt thinks, springing his dick from his pants and wrapping his hand around it. he’s looking at how pathetic you look, your mewls of pleasure turning him on. he pumps his hand, moaning lowly.
your sounds get drastically higher once your g-spot is hit, but he smacks your asscheek again. “i will spank you until your ass is numb if you keep ignoring me.” again… and again. “who makes you feel this way?”
you grip onto his biceps, scratching at them. “y-you, daddy. only you— shit!” you drag on, starting to bounce to the rhythm of his thrusts. you’re so fucking close.
matt whimpers from next to you, biting the collar of his shirt as he grabs your jaw to forcefully look at him. the way his hand is pumping and the muffle of his moans are wanting to send you over the edge.
chris moves his phone to the side to get a better view, trying hard not to get matt’s face in frame. to him, it’ll ruin the moment if he sees his brother in the sex tape. this is only for you and him.
“o-open.” matt stutters, his shirt falling from his teeth. you open your mouth, and his cum lands on your tongue. “swallow… good girl.”
he continues, “did you see that, chris? the slut listens to whatever a man says. do you just let random men fuck you? ‘cause it seems that way.”
tears leak from your eyes, shaking your head with a whine. “i’m gonna cum.” you whisper, matt’s grip on your jaw firmer.
“do it. cum on my brother’s cock like the whore you are.”
whimpering, you quiver and spread your fluid down his base. chris moves his phone to where you’re conjoined, your orgasm slowly dripping around him.
chris moans, his thrust becoming sloppy. “don’t you dare cum inside her.” matt warns.
“wouldn’t be the first time.” he thrusts up faster to get to his orgasm, the most shit-eating grin on his face. “or the second.”
matt snarls, but chris sighs. “fine.”
he lifts you off of him, shooting his release onto your stomach.
matt lifts you to bend you over the chair. you rut your hips back, not even noticing you did it until he hums of approval from behind you. “i think she’s needy for more.”
chris smirks. “i think so, too.”
you wince once he starts to push into you, adjusting to his size rather than chris’. he starts slow but gradually gets faster. your arousal drips from your pussy, and moans escape from your open mouth.
“fu-uck, baby. please don’t s-stop.” you whimper.
your moans turn to yelps the deeper he goes, your walls closing tight around him. in the middle of your moaning mess, a cock fills your mouth.
chris’ hand grips your hair, him now thrusting into your mouth at the same fast speed matt’s doing. “you’re getting too loud, ma. don’t want the neighbors to hear.”
matt’s hands grip onto your hips, grunting each time you clench. the vibration from your moans flows through chris’ body, making sure to capture what you look like taking two dicks at once on his phone.
“sweet thing just wants to be used.” he fake pouts. “am i right?”
he’s being a cocky mother fucker, being that he knows you can’t respond. you try to respond, but it’s only a gag and gulp.
they know your response anyway, which is: yes.
“i’d say that’s a yes.” matt says.
drool hangs from your chin, the noises of you sucking chris’ dick getting more intense. “she’s close.” matt points out. “squeezing me like she’s going to break me in half.”
“i think we’re overstimulating her.” chris grins, taking a piece of your hair and tucking it behind your ear.
each time matt thrusts into you, you choke on chris. you’ve never done something like this, but it feels so good. you cross your eyes, cumming down matt’s shaft.
it makes a mess on his and your thighs, the sound of wet skin on wet skin rubs you the right way.
“just a little more, baby. taking me so well.” matt praises, and you hum at the compliment.
chris tenses in your mouth, pushing your head further down to deepthroat him. “shit.” he curses under his breath. you gag, feeling his cum go down your throat.
some of it spills from the sides of your mouth and he pulls out. your spit mixed with his orgasm dangles on your face. you inhale sharply and cough, but it turns into a soft moan since matt is still fucking into you.
oh, and chris made sure to capture all of that, too.
he lets go of your head, saving the video, and casually picks up his clothes off the floor. your cheek falls to the arm of the couch, the way matt feels making your mind fuzzy.
he groans, leaning so his head rests on your shoulder as he peppers kisses on the bare skin. “i fucking love you.” he says through gritted teeth, pounding himself into you harder.
you whimper. “i love mm— you too.”
he exhales before painting your walls white, making sure you take it all. you sigh in relief and he pulls out, making sure to clean you up.
you roll over, smiling wide because of the pure ecstasy you just felt yet again. “are you kidding?” matt asks, looking in the direction of the kitchen. you squint your eyes at the figure.
chris is there, fridge open as his finger taps on his chin. “do you have anything good to eat? i’m always hungry after sex.”
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𝐭𝐚𝐠 𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭!
@bunbunbl0gs @lexisecretaccx @thy-mission @angelic-sturniolos111 @sophssturn @mattsneezing @janiellasblog @blahbel668 @meg-sturniolo @hearts4chris @mattslolita @sturnbaby @imwetforyourmom @tillies33ssss @sturnifyed @mayhem-72 @ripmattitude @p1xieswrld @alorsxsturn @txssvx @sttzee @multiluvr @delilahprentiss @matthewsspecial @sturnolio-luvs @sturniolho @suga-daddy-69 @tworosesblackthorn @luckistar-posts @gnxosblog @junnniiieee07 @sturnioloslurps @tylerthecreatorsrealwife @flowerxbunnie @imaslut4kehlani @sturniolosandmoree @hertvgirl @braindead4l @whoreforchrissturniolo @r4iyaa @sturniolotriplettoplover @mattybswife @freshsturns
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sourbinnie · 10 months
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☆ interrupted tenderness ☆
♡ genre ¿? ♡ -> fluff ♡ pair ¿? ♡ -> hyung line!skz x gn!reader ♡ plot ¿? ♡ -> a member walks in when you're having a moment, how do they react? ♡ warnings ¿? ♡ -> none ♡ request ¿? ♡ -> yes!
maknae line
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chan ✉
it wasn't often that you two got caught up in your own little world. you were mostly busy with work and that prevented you sometimes from actually being intimate with him, not really in a sexual way but leaning towards romance. chan really was an incredible boyfriend and supporting him through his journey was one of the best experiences you've ever had the pleasure to be a part of. so when you were in his dressing room as he got ready for his concert, you couldn't help but sigh as you looked at him.
"what's up?" he asked as he got closer to you and grabbed your hands. the sweet gesture of feeling your fingers intertwined. you didn't really know what to say, you were just daydreaming at this point because who wouldn't with a boyfriend like that?
"i just can't help but love you so much." you said as you looked at him eye to eye. you could see the happiness in his smile and then it disappeared as he leaned in for a kiss. you leaned in as well as you closed the gap to meet him and took his lips in yours.
"hyung? are you- i'm sorry, never mind!" jisung said as he opened and closed the door in a second. but then he opened it again to yell. "it's like seeing your parents kiss, never do that again."
the whole time chan couldn't help but look down embarrassed, he couldn't believe his kids' behavior sometimes. he leaned on your shoulder as he hid himself and you couldn't help but laugh the entire time, not feeling any shame at all. your boyfriend might be a shy little embarrassed ball but you loved him just like that. 
minho ✉
now he didn't really give a single fuck. he would steal kisses from you in front of the whole world without a care in the world. but sometimes he wished you two would have more private moments where he could actually show you the affection he craved so much to get in return. so when he finally got to be alone in the dorms, he invited you over and you two were laying on the couch just enjoying each other's company. you worked just like that at times where no words were said but it felt better than anything.
"i missed you (y/n)." he said as he got closer to you and laid his head on your lap. you stopped looking at your phone, leaving it to the side to bury your hands on his hair as you messed it up. "if you were anyone else, i would kill you right now."
"luckily it's me!" you said with a little giggle as you moved your hands from his hair to his face. grabbing his cheeks on your hands as you squished them. 
"if i did that to hyung, he would slaughter me." seungmin said from the kitchen and he got a death glare from minho. he really thought that the dorms were empty yet here he had one of his members looking at you two just now.
"not a word from you." minho said and seungmin did a gesture like he sealed his lips shut. you couldn't help but laugh at the interaction as you went back to bothering your boyfriend in the nicest way possible, of course. it's not like he could stop you anyways.
changbin ✉
now he wasn't really someone who got embarrassed easily. well at least that's what he liked to think, that he was just shameless especially with you. of course there were certain limits to the things you did in public but he couldn't resist you from time to time and he liked to show you off. you were his precious significant other for a reason and he wouldn't change you for anything. as he tried to come up with lyrics for one of his tracks, you were sitting in his lap and laying your head on his shoulder.
"are you comfortable?" changbin asked and you nodded, you were about to fall asleep at any moment so how could you not be comfortable? still changbin worried. it's like he needed to know all the time how you felt and that was very sweet of him.
"binnie you know we need to go home soon." you said as you kissed his cheek and that made him smile. he still got shy when you showed affection but that made you fall for him a little bit more each time.
"hey bin, are you done with the track? oh! sorry (y/n), didn't see you there." chan said as he got closer and saw you sitting on his member's lap. "i'll just go and we'll talk about it tomorrow changbin."
chan took a few steps back and then left with a little smile on his face. changbin knew that smile, it was more than happiness, he was proud. he truly did find the partner he wanted for the rest of his life and his bandmates knew that, you were a part of the family now and there was no turning back. 
hyunjin ✉
he was a sucker for showing his affection and love towards you everywhere. most of the time though he resisted and fought himself to not do it because he was scared that you would get sick of it. obviously you didn't and every chance you got to get closer to him, you would. he would appreciate your little love gestures for him but the displays of love in public would be the ones he remembered the most. like right now, he held you as he hugged you from behind and you felt so safe in his arms.
"thank you for coming by today." he whispered in my ear as you were standing in the set of one of his music videos. you just smiled as you looked at him, the sincerity in his eyes and his words always made your heart melt.
"you don't have to thank me, i always love visiting you." you said as he leaned in for a kiss. you couldn't help but feel yourself lost in the moment as you two kissed, totally forgetting where you were standing.
"hyunjin, (y/n), the children are watching!" felix said as he covered seungmin's eyes with one hand and jeongin's eyes with the other. you couldn't help but break the kiss off as you laughed.
hyunjin was so embarrassed but he didn't care as he met you for another kiss, shameless in his actions. earning a gasp from almost everyone on set but not caring about the eyes that were watching. he loved you so much and he didn't want to be ashamed of showing it anymore. 
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rafeandonlyrafe · 12 days
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the same tv
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words: 1.8k
warnings: 18+ only, smut, unprotected sex, p in v sex, parent death, funerals, robbery, redemption/forgiveness, addiction, drinking (wine, not like hard drinking), tickling, cockwarming, they call themselves kids at one point but at no point are reader or rafe under 18, like itll make sense once you read it in context
the first thing you do when you enter your house is kick off your shoes. the next is to stop holding back your tears as they stream down your face. you can't even sob anymore, just silent, steady tears.
you sigh as you look around the entryway. there's been some changes since you moved away, despite only being out of your parents house for a little over a year. they replaced the grand portrait that was of your mom's parents with one of you, now taking the place of honor.
you look away before you get to the rest of the family photos. you've seen enough at the funeral. you walk further in to the house, bare feet against the shiny wood floor.
you pause when you hear something further in. you haven't forgotten how the old house seemed to speak, groaning and settling during strong winds or when too many people were crammed between it's walls.
this sound seems different, but you're also occasionally sniffling, your ears are shot from blasting music in an attempt to distract yourself, so you shrug it off and walk further into the living room.
the sound suddenly makes sense as you see someone stood in your living room, arms holding up your parents flat screen television, awkwardly trying to carry it.
you aren't even mad. you honestly don't care about the tv. or the fact that someone is trying to rob you.
you let out a bitter laugh before you sink to the floor. “of fucking course this happens.” you are glad you still have your purse slung from your shoulder as you pull your wallet out, quite aggressively throwing it at the robber who has now frozen.
“what?” he questions, lowering the tv to the ground and pushing his hood of his head, a dumb move for someone currently committing a crime.
“this has been the worst week of my life and now you're robbing me. just my fucking luck…” you let out a broken sob. “just take whatever you want and leave.”
the only things that matter to you still in the house aren't actually worth anything anyways. the photos of your parents, your dad's cologne that's half empty, the oak tree that your childhood dog is buried next to.
“i thought the people who lived here died.”
you pick your head up, a look of fury overtaking your face.
“they did. they're my fucking parents! and now they're gone and you're fucking robbing me! get the fuck out!” you stand up, pushing at the robbers chest.
he looks familiar, like you should know who he is but can't place him.
“im-shit. im sorry.” he says, allowing you to shove him away and out the door. 
“im really fucking sorry!” he yells again before you slam the door shut.
-- years later --
you park your car in the driveway instead of pulling it all the way into the garage like you know you should, but you need to know if you're correct about the man sitting on your front step.
“you're the kid that tried to rob me.” you say as you walk the sidewalk to the porch.
“yes.” he says, looking ashamed and a whole lot more grown up. “i was an addict and i owed a debt. my dad had just kicked me out of the house and i was on my own for the first time. it was stupid of me, but when i heard the people living here died, i thought it'd be a victimless crime.”
he sighs deeply, like even just thinking back to that time physically hurts. “i didn't even think that someone could have inherited the house. im so, so sorry.” 
he swallows thickly. “my mom died when i was young. my dad- my dad just died recently. he faked his death and i got him back, but he's actually gone this time. you know what you said about the worst week in your life?”
you think back those years. it's mostly a blur, especially the days surrounding your parents car crash and funeral, but you do remember breaking down in front of the robber. you nod gently, waiting to hear the end of his speal.
“i know what you mean now. and im sorry i hurt you. im sorry about your parents dying.” he pulls something out of his pocket, extending his hand.
you look into his open palm, realizing it's a ornate gold necklace.
“no.” you shake your head. “you keep it. you don't need to bribe me to forgive you.”
“i want you to have it.” he says. “it's… it's not a lot, but it's something. something to help make up for what ive done.”
you reach forward, carefully taking the necklace out of his outstretched hand, carefully not to accidentally bump his skin. 
“thank you.” you say, admiring the way the sun gleams off the metal. 
“im rafe, by the way. rafe cameron.”
“y/n.” you respond, undoing the clasp of the necklace.
“here, let me.” he takes it out of your hands, moving quicker than you can think as he steps around you. your hair is already up in a bun, so rafe is able to reach around and easily place the chain around your neck.
“thank you.” the weight of the necklace feels comfortable against your skin, like it's the last finishing touch you need. you are wearing your mother's earrings, your father's bracelet, and now you have the other piece of what made that time in your life so miserable, your robbers necklace.
“i… i guess ill be going now.” rafe says.
you turn and watch him walk away. you recognize so much of your former self in him, the clear grieving he's going through.
“are you sober now?” you call out before he reaches the end of your driveway.
“sober enough.” he shouts back. rafe doubts he'll ever truly be clean, but he can at least manage now, doesn't need the drugs like he used to.
“then come back for dinner tomorrow. we can talk.”
you can see the smile stretch over his features. “ill be there.”
-- three months later --
“shit.” rafe says, head snapping over to you. “this is the same tv.”
you giggle and nod, surprised it took him so long to realize. “i never really watch tv on the actual tv, so no need to replace it.” you shrug, the gold necklace still draped over your neck. you haven't taken it off except to shower and sleep.
“god, thats crazy.” rafe looks over to you. “imagine if we just talked back then.” 
you shake your head. “you just think you want that because we get along now. we were both in bad places.”
“you don't think we would have been hooking up back then?” rafe asks, raising an eyebrow at you, watching the way your thighs press together at the mere mention of hooking up, already feeling the urge to sleep with rafe even after having sex only a couple of hours ago.
“we were two scared kids. if we were hooking up we definitely shouldn't have been.” you giggle, reaching your wine glass out for rafe to refill, which he is glad to pour a more than healthy amount in.
“and now?” rafe looks down at his lap.
“and now we are two slighty less scared slightly older kids.” you giggle again, taking a deep sip before leaning across the couch cushion to press a kiss to rafes cheek, the movie you had put on long forgotten.
“rafe.” you wait until he looks you in the eye. “im here for you.”
“god, what have i done to deserve you?” rafe wraps his arm around your waist, pulling you on top of him as he flops back onto the couch. 
you let out a laugh before it's cut off with his lips. he kisses you heavily, hand against the back of your head, not allowing you to pull away, not that you want to.
you let himself get lost in your kiss. you wish you had someone to support you in the time you needed most, and you're determined to be that person for rafe now.
rafe easily dominates your mouth even though he's underneath you as you quickly work your shorts off, wiggling against him until your bottom half is nude.
you press against rafes crotch, still covered by his sweatpants. you feel his cock straining against the fabric as you rub your pussy against it, wetting the gray material.
“baby, please.” rafe groans. he would pull his cock out himself, but his hands are preoccupied holding you close to him as if his life depends on it.
“oh, now you don't like teasing?” you smile.
“alright, i deserve this.” rafe also manages a chuckle despite his straining erection. “but please. need to feel your pussy ‘round me.”
“alright.” you roll your eyes dramatically. you'll have to get revenge on rafe at a different time for edging you the other night.
you push his pants down his thighs until you're able to reach into his underwear and pull out his cock. you give him a few quick strokes before lining up your entrance and sinking down.
rafe let's out a moan, barely pulling his face away from yours. “you're so wet.”
“it's almost like i like you or something.” you roll your eyes.
rafe laughs before kissing you again, hand moving up to your hair, tangling his fingers between the strands.
you sit on his cock for a moment, adjusting, before beginning to move, up then down, up then down, subtle movements of your hips, not needing anything fast, wanting drawn out, wanting it to last.
the movie is long over by the time rafe finally cums, a hand finally moving down to rub your clit to make sure you get off at the same time as his.
by the time you're both satisfied, you're sweaty and exhausted. you don't even bother to pull off his cock as you rest your head against his chest.
“thank you.” rafe says softly, rubbing his hand over your back. you don't need to ask what for. you know. for being there. you'll always be there.
you look up at him, a small smile on your face. “how are we gonna tell people we met?”
things are quickly getting serious, and while he hasn't breached the subject with you yet, neither of you have been hiding how quickly you're falling.
“what, you think it's a problem that we met when i was robbing you?” rafe says, making you giggle, only intensified by his hand pressing into your side, fingers tickling you as you howl with laughter.
rafe flips you over onto your back so you're underneath him, keeping his cock pushed inside of you.
“maybe we should just tell people we met on tinder.” rafe shrugs.
you roll your eyes. “somehow that's more embarrassing.”
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earthtooz · 1 year
Text
quick rin hc because i need these thoughts to go somewhere before it eats me alive.
when you first starting dating itoshi rin, you never thought he'd be the clingy type.
and your theory proved true for the first few months of your relationship. most physical affection was initiated by you, you were the one holding his hand, latching yourself onto his arm, and leaving kisses on his cheek so that if he was uncomfortable, he could easily shake you off.
not that rin ever did. if you weren't so nervous, you would've seen the crack in his apathetic facade, his face turning a traitorous shade of red.
well. now that you're a year or so down into the relationship, it's safe to say that you were very wrong about your assumption.
itoshi rin loves by making his mark. he's only happy once he's sure that everyone knows who you're with.
whether that's with a protective arm around your waist, paparazzi photos of the two of you together in your own little world, or showing you off in clothes of his (or hickeys), rin will happily give you all of him.
he gets a little too grumpy when you start your day before him, making him miss the chance to cherish your warmth and admire your beauty for a little longer.
he pats your side of the bed blindly and groans when he doesn't feel you there, the space pitifully empty when he lugs his body over to where you should be. rin should get up and find you, really, but he hates starting the day when you're not the first thing he sees.
fortunately for him, you hear him from where you were doing your morning routine in the bathroom.
opening the en suite door, you're amused to see your boyfriend like this, subtly distraught and splayed all over the mattress.
"good morning, you," is what you say to him whilst walking over, now feeling rejuvenated and ready to start the day. that was your first mistake because rin then all but drags you down onto the bed with him, encasing you in his arms.
he hasn't even said good morning back.
"hey! let go, jerk!" you huff, hitting his chest lightly.
"no."
"rin!"
"no."
"what do you mean-"
"no."
"rin, c'mon, let me go."
"no. now shut up, wanna hold you."
as if helping his argument, he throws the covers over the two of you, sighing quietly in satisfaction when you return his affection, amused enough to listen to his command. "y'know it's 9am right now. shouldn't you be doing your workout?"
"don't care. shut up."
"so mean. you're lucky i'm with you, even if you're horrible," you say, mostly as a joke. he can tell by the airiness of your voice, but rin stills a little in your arms before pushing more of his weight on top of you, placing a kiss to your jaw for good measure. several kisses, actually.
"shut up. please?"
"you're so stupid," the breathy laughter that escapes you only causes rin to tuck himself further into your warmth.
rin also gets a little too grumpy when you tell him that you're going out with your friends. at this point, he stops bothering to hide his disappointment. paired with a pout, he looks at you with such glossy eyes when he asks 'what about our self-care night?' that you have to resist the urge to pinch his cheeks and kiss him silly.
you promise him another night and he's placated when you tell him that you'll give him a full spa treatment.
he grabs onto your shirt to avoid you straying too far. whenever you’re together and see something in a store window, you take a few steps before being inevitably dragged back by itoshi rin, who has a masterful poker face plastered to counter your ‘why did you do that?’ expression.
'don't go where i can't follow' type of boyfriend- why is he dramatic... like babes... i'm going to the bathroom... no you can't come with me...
anyways i'm shutting up now before i ramble too much. so. yeah. clingy!rin is really just... something else...
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ggyuha · 7 months
Text
good cop, bad cop / leon
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[ summary ] : you lost your belongings after a party—of course you’d need help but seeing how the officer is so handsome, maybe he can help you in more ways than one? ( wc is 3.6k words )
[ c/w ] : dom!leon x afab!reader, handjob, fingering, unprotected piv, car sex, degradation, pet names, age gap (reader is in college, leon is in early/mid 20s), …
[ note ] : he isn’t acting like a cutie patootie re2r leon bc it’s mostly self-indulgent but enjoy my filthy leon brain rot anyways & ik it’s p long but i love porn w plots ><
having partying all night, it was inevitable to lose something in the process—the something, in your case, was your purse. of course, how cliché.
it had your money, cards and phone in it and hell if you can survive without your phone.
with sore feet and tired heels, you made your way to the nearest police station. it was almost empty, save for a couple of bored-looking officers. they were all buried in paperworks except for one—damn was he a sight for sore eyes.
he had blond hair which was parted in a curtain-ish type of bangs. his eyes were icy blue, the type to bore holes in someone when they stare too hard. his nose was long and tall, it sat perfectly in the middle of his pretty face. his lips were plump and red, so kissable but save that for later, you thought. it’s your purse over this handsome cop.
he walked up to you with a smile on his lips, his puppy eyes looking brightly at you. “hello, is there anything i can help you with?” he asked gently. you saw the way his eyes roamed over your body, up and down, checking you out. you straightened your back, feeling a sense of pride to have such an attractive man gaze at you that way. who wouldn’t, to be honest? with the way your tight black dress hugged your curves perfectly, the way the hem showed a generous amount of your thighs. you sure are a looker.
“yes, please,” you said in the softest way possible, his eyes flicking back up to match your stare. “my purse was stolen and… and i have to get home. is it possible to borrow a phone?”
he raised his brows. a phone? you’d borrow a phone instead of asking for a lift back home. he was disappointed but intentionally gave you his personal phone instead of his work phone. “here, sweetheart.” he just couldn’t hold that one back. he had a thing for pet names and he sure as shit can’t help himself but call you nicknames.
you blinked a few times, flustered with the pet name but you took the phone from his hand and dialled your friend’s number. it took him a few rings. “hello, chris?” chris was your older brother’s best friend. he’s nice and understanding, he acts more brotherly than your own brother so you didn’t hesitate to punch his number in the keypad.
“yes?” he mumbled groggily. you felt a little guilty, disturbing him this late at night but you had to suck it up or you wouldn’t get home. “uhm, i’m in a police station. i lost my purse. can you come and get me?” there was silence for a few seconds before you heard a loud sigh. he said your name, asking to confirm if it was you.
but of course, it was you. who else would cause trouble only to bother him afterwards, right?
“yes, it’s me.”
you heard a low grunt—fuck, you thought. “i can’t, i’m sorry… i’m s’posed to watch my lil’ cousin for the whole night and my uncle used the car.” your lower lip caught in between your teeth. “i see,” you replied in a steady tone, careful not to sound disappointed because you knew chris would feel even more guilty, if he wasn’t feeling that now, which you sure as shit he is.
“it’s okay, chris. thanks anyway. there are tons of officers here,” you said, eyeing the said officers, which you can count with the fingers of a hand. you couldn’t tell chris the truth though.
“maybe i can ask for a lift.” leon’s ears perked up and he fought hard to hold back a grin.
chris hummed on the other end of the line. “i’ll come by tomorrow to check on you, is that good?” he knew your parents are on a business trip and your brother is, most probably, not home. you nodded, slightly forgetting he won’t see. “yes, thanks.”
you handed the officer’s phone back to him. “i can give you a ride.” leon offered with a small smirk. you shivered slightly under his piercing gaze. you could feel the palpable tension between you two and god, was it wrong. you were barely done with college—how old are you? eighteen? nineteen? fuck, it was so wrong but it felt so right.
curious as you were about his age, you refrained from asking.
“okay,” you said, “sorry, i didn’t catch your name.” you looked up at him with doe eyes. you sure knew how to use your charms, he thought. you were worming your way into his head. he was beginning to imagine things—said things being him thrusting his hips, ramming into you roughly—but he isn’t telling you that. yet.
“leon kennedy, but it��s just leon for you.” he gave you a wink before walking past you, gesturing for you to follow him. “i’m almost done with my shift anyway. can you wait for 10 minutes, sweetie?” he glanced back at you over his shoulders, “let me just hand in my paperworks and clock out, yeah?” it took you a few to process his words, his voice calling you sweetie ringing in your head.
“sure,” you answered, “i’ll wait—“ you eyed the lounge and sat on one of the chair, “—here.” he chuckled before walking away to go to his desk, organising piles of paperworks. he grabbed two handfuls of those papers and put them in drawers. the rest of the stack, he grabbed and he walked into an office, probably to hand it in.
he went out after minutes and he arranged his desk. an organised man, you thought, that’s so fucking hot.
he grabbed his backpack and slung it over one shoulder as he walked towards you. “i clocked out. ready to get home?” he smiled sweetly at you. you nodded and stood up, walking behind him.
you were surprised when he got in his car. like, his personal car. you guess it made sense since he already got off work but still. you thought he’d use the police car.
okay, chill, it isn’t even that big of a deal.
you climbed into his passenger seat. “took your sweet time, didn’t you?” he joked as he ignited the engine. you scratched your cheek. “sorry.”
he chuckled at your apology. “i was just kidding.” you shot him a brief glance and threw him a smile. damn did that do something to him.
he began driving, asking you for directions. it didn’t take that long before you reached your home. “this is it,” you said, pointing at the house outside the passenger window. he looked your way, his eyes drifting back to you after he eyed your house. it wasn’t that big but it still was a statement of your family’s wealth.
“thanks for driving me home. even after your shift ended too…” his hand moved from the shift stick to your knee, his eyes remained on yours, looking at you with a glint and you could swear that you could see through him. “it’s not a problem, princess. don’t mention it.” a corner of his lips curved up in a sly smirk. oh, was he a handsome devil—which was ironic since he’s in the force, doing good.
you bit your lip, holding back to gaze at his hand on your knee. it was burning your skin but you were so fucking aching for his hands to burn more than just your knee.
you hummed a response. “alright, leon.” despite knowing that you’re supposed to get out of the car, because the ride is done, you couldn’t move an inch, holding onto his meaningful stare while he killed the engine. “what?” you huffed out silently. his mouth is still curved up in a smirk and his eyes watched you hungrily, almost as if this whole interaction is a bit too entertaining for him.
what the fuck is behind those eyes?
“maybe next time,” he leaned in closer and your breath caught in your throat, “don’t party too hard, yeah?” his breath fanned your cheek. “or do. then maybe i’ll see you around again.” you gasped inaudibly then bit your lip. “you’re not getting your message across, officer kennedy.” you raised a brow at him. “are you telling me to run wild or not?”
leon grinned at your question. he liked this side of you; bold, confident. you’re a minx and you know it.
“i don’t care,” said leon in a low tone. god, did it sound so sexy, so illegally. “i guess i’m saying, do what you will in life but i wanna see you again.”
your eyes widened a bit and it broke free, that sly smile you’ve been holding back for too long. he thinks he has you in his grasp but no, you have him in your grasp.
men are that easy. for you, that is. play dumb, play innocent—or don’t—it doesn’t matter, actually. just look tempting and they eat everything up.
“i’m still a student, officer,” you finally tell him. he doesn’t show a hint of surprise, almost as if he knew. he looked away and pursed his lips, choosing his words carefully now but it’s quite too late for that, isn’t it?
“but you don’t really care, do you?” you added in a sultry tone. his eyes flicked back to you, reflecting sinful emotions—and you could almost see what kind of thoughts danced in his head, how lewd and how fucking hot those thoughts were.
his lips curved up in a smile but he tried to hide it as he rested his elbow on the steering wheel and put a hand on his lower face, the back of it pressed against his mouth.
“you don’t know that,” said leon in a whisper. your finger traced patterns on the back of his hand that’s still on your knee. you saw his adam’s apple bob in his throat. “oh, but i do.” you grabbed his hand and yanked it so you could pull him closer to you again. his eyes widened, caught off guard.
you were having so much fun. he always seemed collected. all throughout the evening, he was flirting but now, he was at your mercy. fuck those pretty eyes of yours or those damned wet lips. he’d do anything to touch you—and you could feel yourself wanting the same thing.
you clutched the collar of his shirt with one hand, your other hand ran through his ash blond hair. “i know what you’ve been thinking the entire time. trust me, officer kennedy, i’ve seen those eyes before.”
his face contorted to that of jealousy. so you’ve been through this before? you’ve seduced other men? and god so help him—you’ve fucked other men?
you watched as his eyes glinted in envy and he looked so dangerous, so tantalising. you bit the tip of your tongue inside your mouth, your gaze dropping to his lips tugged in a frown.
he grunted, feeling the tension increase. “fuck this,” he murmured and gripped your arm tightly. you winced in pain but looked up at him with a smile. “i’ll fuck you better.”
your mouth dropped open in surprise, his words catching you off guard a bit. apparently, he took this action for something else, as an invitation, and he leaned forward, crashing his lips with yours in a rough and wet kiss.
you’d be lying if you said this wasn’t your goal, not where you wanted to end up in, because it so fucking is.
your hands kept on clutching his shirt, pulling him closer as you kissed him back with much fervour. he groaned into the kiss, sending waves of pleasure. really, damn this man to hell but he’s such a fucking good kisser.
he nibbled at your lower lip, biting it and licking it all while interlocking with it. he bit harder this time and you gasped. he eased the pain by licking it and then pushed his tongue in your mouth, swirling and dancing with yours.
he pulled away, but you knew he only did to let you breathe because he would fucking drown you with his kisses if he could.
“damn…” you were panting heavily. your heart was pounding so erratically, you thought it was possible to suffer from a heart attack. you looked at him through your eyelids. “what do you think?” he asked, caressing your cheek with his hand. “i kissed you better, didn’t i?”
you rolled your eyes and frowned at his question. what a jealous bastard! “huh,” you scoffed, “are you making out with me to heal your ego? are you seriously competing with other men you don’t even know?” you raised your brows at him.
“no, no, no, princess—you don’t get it. i have to make sure i do you better so next time, you come back to me and not them.”
without waiting for your response, he gripped your waist tightly to lift you up, guiding you to him. he adjusted the driver’s seat, pushing it back to give you enough space to straddle his lap. you huffed out shakily, the new position heightening your desire. you gripped his shoulders.
“oh, so there’s a next time?” you raised a brow at him and he just gave a smug sneer. “‘course. i’m not an idiot. why would i make you be a one time thing? you’re too pretty for that.” you rolled your eyes at him but secretly flattered he finds you attractive enough to want you more than a one-night stand.
he just chuckled at your reaction then his hands gripped your hips firmly and crashed his lips with yours once more before trailing down to your jaw and neck, nipping on your skin at every opportunity, leaving hickeys.
you tilted your head, giving him more access to your neck, your fingers entwined with his soft hair, combing and gripping them to spur him to keep going.
his hands gave your hips a gentle squeeze before sliding upwards to fondle your tits through your tight dress. you gasped and he chuckled against your skin. he pulled your neckline down, revealing your round breasts and erect nipples. he cupped them with his big hands, pinching and pulling on your buds with his long fingers.
“shit…” you murmured, tipping your head backwards as you fought back a moan. his hands are so filthy but you bet you haven’t even seen the half of it.
he pushed you gently, your back resting against the steering wheel. you watched him hike the hem of your dress up to your waist and palmed your mound without a word. you yelped, feeling him trace a finger along your slit through your panties. he could feel just how wet you already are and that elicited a throaty growl from him.
“messy little girl,” he whispered as he pushed your panties aside, gathering some of your slick with the tip of his fingers before rubbing your throbbing clit, working in circles. you let out a nasty mewl, your hand flying to your mouth and clamp it shut—which didn’t help at all because once he found the perfect rhythm to work on your clit, rolls of whimper and moans escaped your lips.
“so vocal, aren’t you? don’t hold back, i want to hear it.” hesitantly, you removed your hand from your mouth, putting two of them on his shoulders instead. “leoooon…” you moaned when he pushed two thick digits past your slick folds, the heel of his palm bumping against your nub every time he pumped in and out. once you’re adjusted to his fingers, he began curling them and with how long his fingers are, the tip of them reached spots you normally couldn’t on your own.
“this the spot?” he asked teasingly, sliding his fingers in and out then curled them to press on your g-spots. he kept his ministrations, only picking up the pace but doing it at the same intensity.
you were mush at this point, the steering wheel being the only thing keeping you sitting up because if you weren’t leaning, you sure as hell would be falling back with the way he’s doing your body.
“your tight pussy is just as vocal as you. how cute.” you grunted at his words, feeling your walls clench around his fingers. he was right though. every time he thrusted those damn fingers in you, filthy squelching filled the car.
“i’m close, please…”
he looked up at you and smiled, his other hand tucking your hair behind your ear then leaned forward to kiss your lips briefly. “go on then, cum on my fingers, baby.” a couple more thrusts of his fingers and your hips began to rhythmically spasm, riding your orgasm while he continued to slowly stroke your spongy walls, your cum coating his fingers.
he pulled out, his tongue swirling around his cum-coated digits and licked them clean down to his knuckles. “delicious little thing, aren’t ya,” he said as he unbuckled his pants, his other hand grabbing your wrist to guide your hands and palm his fully erect cock.
your eyes widened and you exhaled, your fingers barely wrapping around his length. your thumb swiped on the precum gathering on his tip and he shakily sighed, throwing his head back on his seat’s headrest, watching you with half-lidded eyes.
you lazily stroked him. honestly, you didn’t have enough energy for this. you just want him inside you and all this teasing—it’s only making you impatient. “hmp,” his brow twitched slightly and glared at you, “brat. i know as hell this isn’t how you give handjobs.” he grabbed your wrist and pushed it up and down to stroke his throbbing cock harder. “what’s the matter? can’t wait ‘til my cock’s inside you?” he smirked and despite wanting to deny his accusation, you just whined instead and watched him use your hand as a fleshlight.
“shit, hold on, baby.” his hips were bucking up in rhythm with your hand, fucking your fist with urgency. with a throaty moan, his cock twitched before ropes of cum spilled on your hand and some on your stomach. you thought about how good it’d feel to have this hot and sticky thing stuffed in you.
he panted heavily but he was clearly still hard. he hasn’t had enough, for sure. he grabbed your hips, lifting them up so your pussy is hovering above his cock then you slowly sank down, your head tipping back as you felt just how much he’s stretching your tight walls—fuck, he’s so big.
his fat tip effortlessly hit your cervix just by being balls deep inside you. you groaned and impatiently squirmed on his lap. “wait up, you slut,” he grunted before firmly holding your hips to help you ride his dick. he rammed inside you relentlessly, repeatedly hitting all your spots with his curves and length. series of moans spilled from your swollen lips. your hands found your bouncing tits, playing with your nipples which heightened your stimulation.
“filthy girl,” he spat but watched you play with yourself while he used your tight cunt like an expensive cocksleeve. “shit shit shit…” you breathlessly whimpered, “not that spot, not that spot—“ liar, that’s what you are because he is thrusting in such a good spot but if he keeps hitting that… “jesus, did you just cum?” he furrowed his brows and stared at the creamy white coating the base of his dick. “oh, that’s good, fuck you’re so tight…” he seemed to be reprimanding you for cumming first but he couldn’t help and enjoy the way you’re just so fucking tight, clamping down around his thick length after your release.
he kept pulling orgasm after orgasm out of you, pumping his cock in you and stuffing your womb with his thick cum as if he’s planning on giving you his kids.
you don’t know how or when it happened, that you’re in your house, on your bed. both of you are fully naked now while he rammed into you like a hungry man, his hands pressing on the back of your thigh ‘til they’re levelled with your ears. “leon, oh god, i’m…!” your walls clenched around him again, pussy twitching and hips spasming though you’re tired from cumming over and over again around his cock. he just kept spilling his load into you.
“shit, baby, can’t get enough of this pussy.” he pulled out and watched his cum ooze out of your puffy lips. you caught a glimpse of the sunrise from outside your window and series of doorbells echoed in your home, followed by chris’ voice. fuck.
he called your name but leon just raised his brows at you before flipping your limp body, spanking your ass to lift them up properly. you whined and did as he wanted, presenting yourself to him while your face is pressed on a pillow, muffling your moans and cries as he fucked you roughly for the nth time since last night.
“shh, princess. we gotta pretend nobody’s home, don’t we?” he whispered from behind, leaning forward to press soothing kisses on your shoulder blade as filthy sounds of skin slapping skin and wet squelching while he rammed mindlessly his cock in you filled your bedroom. “wouldn’t want your friend to catch us like this after all.”
“mhm, shit…” he murmured as his hips picked up pace, swinging more sloppily and with more urgency before spilling another load of thick cum in you. jesus, is he ever gonna stop cumming at all?
“pretty girl, takin’ me so well. what’s another one more, yeah?”
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appocalipse · 27 days
Text
see for yourself ⋆ sirius black
summary: after a party, you tell sirius how you ended things with the guy you've been seeing because he was a bit jealous of your friendship with him. sirius shows you that maybe he was right to be.
"You're in a good mood."
Sirius looks at you from his place on the floor and grins, wild and boyish. It makes your stomach do flips that you'd rather not think about too much, lest it leads to things you really shouldn't be thinking about.
"Must be your charming company," he says before looking back up at the ceiling, fingers laced behind his head.
He's laying spreadeagle on the hardwood floor, staring up at the slowly rotating fan and taking occasional swigs from an open bottle of Firewhisky beside him. Everyone but Remus, with whom Sirius shares the flat, had already gone home hours ago, leaving only you and Sirius behind in the living room.
You roll your eyes even though he can't see you doing it, setting your empty cup on the coffee table. You lean back against the sofa and fold one leg up under the other so you can turn to face him fully. "Remind me again why you're not sitting on furniture like a normal person?"
"It's more fun down here." He turns his head enough for you to catch his wolfish grin. "Care to join me?"
"Oh no," you laugh, shaking your head. "I should be getting home anyway. It's late."
Sirius frowns and pushes himself up into a sitting position. The look in his gray eyes is equal parts amusement and disappointment. "On a Friday night? Come on, love, we're barely tipsy. Besides, you still haven't told me what happened between you and that wanker you were seeing."
"There's nothing to tell," you shrug.
He scoffs as he crawls across the floor towards you. You bite the inside of your cheek when Sirius hoists himself onto the sofa beside you and pulls one leg up to his chest. There's a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth that doesn't seem quite as innocent as you'd like it to be.
"He looked pretty pissed off when he left," he says, twirling a long strand of your hair around his index finger. "What'd you say to him?"
"I didn't say anything. And we were together for barely three weeks. I was just...he wasn't the right guy, okay? Now shush."
You make a halfhearted attempt to turn away from him, but Sirius laughs softly and rests his head on your shoulder. "You don't say."
"Sirius."
"What? I'm glad you didn't waste any more time on that tosser. He would never have made you happy."
"How would you know?"
Sirius lifts his head and leans back far enough to look at you. His expression is one of smug self-confidence as he says, "Because I know everything."
"Everything, huh?"
"Everything."
You quirk an eyebrow. "Well then, what am I thinking right now?"
His eyes flick down to your lips for a brief moment before they find yours again, but it's enough for heat to rise in your cheeks. You could swear he starts to move closer before he blinks and turns away with a dry laugh, but by then you're not so sure anymore. "That you're bored of talking about this dolt."
The ache of disappointment in your chest must be almost palpable, because Sirius furrows his brow and asks, "Is everything alright?"
"Yup."
"You're lying."
"No, I'm not."
Sirius gives you a knowing look and shifts on the sofa to face you more fully. His knee knocks against yours. "Don't tell me you're hung up over that berk."
"Not in the slightest."
"Liar."
"I'm not," you insist. "Really."
"Did he break your heart or something? I'll break his arm."
You laugh, though you doubt Sirius is actually joking. "Nothing happened. He was just jealous. That's all."
He frowns, then narrows his eyes at you. "Jealous of who?"
"Oh, you know, the usual suspects," you say lightly, waving a hand as if to dismiss the topic completely. But when Sirius remains silent, you let out a slow breath and (as you usually do when it comes to him) give in. "You, mostly. He said some stuff, and I didn't take too kindly to it."
A wry smile spreads across Sirius' face. He looks delighted. "What'd he say about me?"
"Seriously?"
"Absolutely."
With a dramatic roll of your eyes, you rest your head back against the cushion behind you and say, "He thinks you, uh...you know, fancy me or something. That we spend too much time together. But I told him that he's crazy, obviously."
"Obviously."
The following silence bothers you.
You turn your head enough to see Sirius' face. He's staring back at you, an unreadable expression on his face. Then, after several moments of more tense silence, he whispers, "What if I do fancy you?"
"Sure you do," you mutter, rolling your eyes again.
Sirius places his palm on top of the hand resting between the two of you and brushes his thumb over your knuckles. "I could show you."
It takes a moment for you to register the offer.
"Did you drink more than I realized?"
"Just enough for the liquid courage to work."
Your tongue feels like sandpaper. "Sirius."
"Mmhm."
"Stop being ridiculous."
"Who says I'm being ridiculous?" he asks, bringing your hand to his lips and pressing a light kiss to your skin. "Maybe I'm madly in love with you. Have you considered that?"
You swallow, trying to ignore the way your stomach is doing somersaults. "This isn't funny, Padfoot."
"It's not supposed to be funny."
"But—"
He cuts you off by cupping your cheek and leaning in close enough for you to feel his warm breath on your lips. It smells of Firewhisky and mint. "Kiss me and see for yourself."
"You must be drunk."
"Only tipsy," he reminds you. "Or maybe a little drunk on you."
"You know, you're not half as funny as—mmph!"
He's kissing you. Sirius is kissing you, and dear sweet Merlin, you could swear that the world's tilting beneath you as his hands pull you closer. He hums contentedly when he feels you reciprocating, cradling your face between his palms as if to make sure that you won't go anywhere.
Not that you intend to.
It's the kind of kiss that steals your breath away. The kind of kiss you can lose yourself in without even realizing it, especially when one of his hands slides into your hair, and you moan involuntarily into his mouth.
Sirius laughs breathlessly against your lips as he eases you down onto your back. His fingers dance along your jawline before he curls them under your chin, tilting your head back and kissing his way down your throat.
"I think this went better than expected," he murmurs, pausing long enough to gently bite down on the sensitive spot where your neck meets your shoulder. You gasp.
Sirius sits up suddenly. His hair hangs in front of his face like a dark curtain and his eyes glitter with amusement when he pushes it back. Your pulse jumps when you see the slight redness of his lips and the hint of mischief on his face. "Don't tell me you're getting shy now."
"Shut up."
He leans down and kisses you again, groaning low in his throat as your hands slide up the broad expanse of his back. "I'm starting to think you fancy me, too," he whispers, words ghosting over your mouth.
"Yeah," you admit sheepishly, sliding your hands up and over his shoulders. "I may have been lying earlier. It's not that crazy."
"May have?"
"Fine, I did lie."
"I knew it."
He looks far too smug. Just this once, you don't really mind.
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lovebugism · 11 months
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Omg bug we need a part two of “mean” Eddie and reader going on their little date 🤭 if you are up for writing it ofc 😌
pt. 2 of this fic
You didn’t show.
Maybe you just got lost. Eddie figures he shouldn’t have expected someone like you to know where The Hideout was. Or maybe you lost track of time. — but he’d told you the doors opened at seven o’clock sharp, and you’d repeated it back to him. He knows you did because you’d said it in that voice you use when you get all shy, as soft and as low as your meek gaze when you peered at him through your lashes.
But you weren’t just late. You weren’t fashionably late, either. You just never showed up.
Eddie wishes he didn’t care as much as he did.
He told himself he didn’t when you weren’t there at seven, but he looked for you in the meager crowd of twenty when eight o’clock rolled around anyway. 
He’d wanted to see you in the front row. He dreamt of putting on the best show The Hideout’s ever seen right before dedicating some cheesy love ballad to you. 
“This is for a really special someone in the crowd tonight,” he would’ve said into the microphone that smelled like beer. “You know who you are. Don’t let this go to your head, either, alright?” 
He even made the band practice Hysteria by Def Leppard so he could play it for you that night — so the lyrics could tell you everything he couldn’t — but you weren’t there to hear them. 
They ended up playing Love Bites instead.
He spends another two hours moonlighting as a rockstar.
Still in his ripped jeans and eyeliner, he slings a towel over his shoulder and ties an apron around his waist — a busboy all over again. He always forgets how sleazy The Hideout is until he’s got to clean it up. 
He mops sticky floors and wipes down grimy tables and tries to ignore the stinging in his chest every time he remembers that you were supposed to keep him company through it all.
A knock sounds at the front door at eleven o’clock. 
It’s Tuesday night — the place is empty now. Eddie’s been around long enough to know when drunks are out looking for a fix.
“We’re closed!” he shouts, more focused on scrapping off the syrupy ringed stain on the table than the relentless inebriate outside.
“C’mon, Eddie, it’s cold!” a familiar voice pleads, muffled through the door. “You’re not mad enough to let me freeze to death out here, are you?”
Eddie nearly breaks his neck with how quickly he turns to look over his shoulder. 
You stand behind the foggy glass, mostly blurry but still beautiful. The bouquet of purple and red tulips is nearly as pretty as the smile your pair them with. Your floral skirt swishes around your ankles as the wind blows. Eddie winches when he sees you shiver.
He rushes to the door, scrambling with the keyring clipped to his belt loop. His sweaty hands fumble with the chain. It takes him three tries to get it in the lock. 
“Shit. Sorry,” he stammers. “I didn’t think it was you.”
“I figured. It’s okay.” 
You walk through the door he holds open for you, the spring night breeze following close behind. Eddie shuts and locks the door again.
You spin on your heel to face him and hold the flowers out between you. “These are for you,” you tell him — soft and low and timid.
Eddie grins.
“These are very metal, sweetheart,” he teases. The plastic wrapping crinkles as he takes them by the stem.
“I felt bad for being so late,” you grimace. “Didn’t want to show up empty-handed.”
“What flower shop is even open this time of night?”
“Zippy’s,” you answer curtly, gaze ducking down to your shoes a moment later.
“You went to a gas station all the way across town to get me flowers?”
You nod.
“No wonder you were late,” he scoffs. 
He saunters past you, then spins so he’s walking backward and facing you. His wild hair sways around his face. He clutches the bouquet to his chest. “Here I thought you off seeing some other schmuck.”
You roll your eyes, knowing no other schmuck has ever given you the time of day like Eddie has.
“I was late because of work,” you correct. Before you know it, you’re rambling. “I wasn’t on schedule for closing, but my asshole manager wouldn’t let me clock out. And I couldn’t call you because I don’t have your number, and I couldn’t find The Hideout in the yellow pages because it’s so old and—”
“Hey. It’s okay,” Eddie assures, practically cooing. It’s the softest he’s ever been with you, and he looks at you just the same — chocolate eyes melting as they twinkle at you. You’re left grieving his gaze when he turns to set the flowers on the counter. 
“You’re here now. That’s all that matters.” 
Through burning cheeks, you tease. “I thought we agreed you weren’t gonna get soft on me.”
“Oh? You thought that meant I cared that you came?” he scoffs, obviously joking. 
He squints down at you when you appear at his side — turns and presses his hip into the counter, and props his elbow along the top of it. “I’m just happy I got you outta the house. You’re like a damn hermit, you never do anything fun.”
Your face scrunches in discontent. “I have fun!” you correct.
“I’ll believe it when I see it,” Eddie retorts, nudging your shoulder as he walks past you again — this time heading toward the kitchen. “Sit down. I’ll make you something to eat.”
You’re grateful when he walks to the back without looking over his shoulder at you, lest he become a witness to the beam on your lips that’s far too bright to hide.
Eddie Munson is totally soft on you. 
It’s a good thing, too. Because you’re all but melting for him now.
You sit at the bar with a sweaty beer in your hand. “It’s obviously cheap, but it goes down sweet enough,” Eddie warned when he’d handed it to you. You sip from it, leaning back in your chair with your feet thrown on the one beside you — totally unable to take your eyes off the boy.
You watch through the partition behind the counter as Eddie makes a haphazard effort of basketing leftover chicken tenders and fries. He sets them beneath an orange lamp to warm again.
“A rockstar, busboy, and chef, huh?” you lilt, hiding your smile behind the beer you bring to your lips. “What else can you do?”
“When there’s a pretty girl in front of me?” he retorts as he swipes the crumbs from his palms. He looks at you with a smug grin and shrugs. “Just about anything, I’d guess.”
You roll your eyes. “Don’t do that.”
“Do what?”
“Flirt with me. It’s gross. We don’t do that.”
Eddie laughs to himself, honey eyes squinting. “I’ve been flirting with you for about a year and a half now, sweetheart, but… Thanks for finally noticing.”
He carries the ruby red baskets in both hands when he comes out to sit next to you. You slide your legs off the stool for him — an invitation to be close to you without either of you having to ask.
“Am I gonna get food poisoning from this?” you joke, holding the greasy chicken strip between your fingers.
“The cook made them today,” he scoffs, already tossing a fry into his mouth. He talks as he chews. “Besides, we’d be getting sick together. What’s more romantic than that?”
God, you even think he’s cute when he talks with his mouth full. You’re so far gone for him, it’s not even funny.
Eddie smiles when you take a bite. Your eyes flutter shut on their own accord, your empty stomach thanking you. 
“Good, huh?”
“Amazing,” you correct.
“Gross bars make the best food, I swear.”
You laugh softly together. Def Leppard croons from the speakers overhead. You wonder if Eddie knew this was your favorite band or if your favorite song is only playing by chance. You’re warmed either way.
“How was, uh… How was the show?” you ask him, as curious as you are desperate to fill the silence.
Eddie wipes his palms on his jeans and nods. “It was okay. Same as usual — the crowd was drunk enough to enjoy anything we did.”
“I’m sure it was great,” you retort at his self-deprecating tone, picking shyly at the fries rather than meeting his gaze. “I’m sorry I missed it.”
He figures he doesn’t need to tell you about his bleeding heart that was close to breaking a couple of hours ago. You put a bandage over it the second you showed up at The Hideout — with flowers, no less. He’s just glad that you came at all. He meant it when he said that none of the rest matters.
“Don’t worry about it,” Eddie shrugs through the food in his cheek. “There’s always next time.”
You grin and knock the leg of his chair with your foot. “Already asking me out on a second date, huh?”
“If that’s what you wanna call it,” he jokes through glowing cheeks. He tilts his head towards his shoulder. “But I’m not paying for your ticket next time, princess.”
Your smile widens. You prop your cheek on your knuckles, unabashedly gazing over at him. “That’s okay. I’ll be in the front row either way.”
“Promise?” Eddie’s lilt edges on teasing and sincerity. He momentarily abandons his own food as he mirrors your positioning, not realizing he’s leaning closer to you until he’s already doing it.
“Promise,” you nod with a smile so bright he thinks it could rival the sun.
He continues to shorten the distance between you — coming closer closer closer. You watch him, amused, and with your bottom lip trapped between your teeth.
You want him to kiss you. No, fuck that, you need him to kiss you. But more than anything, you need him to do it first — a cheeky little something to over his head when you’re kissing him later.
And you don’t mean to laugh, but the thought makes a giggle spill from your lips before you can stop it.
The bubbly sound knocks Eddie from his stupor. 
The tip of his nose just barely brushes your own. His glazed-over eyes fly open. He remains still, his breath fanning over your cupid’s bow, as he blinks owlishly at you. The pretty pink mouth he was about to kiss you with falls softly agape. 
His head jerks backward a second later, almost in disgust. 
“Shit. Sorry,” he curses. His body shifts away from yours completely as he turns his attention to his half-eaten basket of fries. “That was— That wasn’t cool of me.”
Still smiling, you reach a hand out for his leather-clad forearm. You caress him soothingly there in reassurance. “No. It’s okay—”
“No, that was really fucking weird,” he says, forcing out a laugh.
“Right?” you scoff. “Why would Eddie Munson, the chef-busboy-rockstar, wanna kiss a girl like me?”
He exhales sharply through his nose, tilting his wild head to his shoulder to look at you. 
He finds you with a gleam in your eye, one that’s not usually there because, most times, he’s too busy making fun of you.  A smile hints at the corners of your mouth, barely there and beautiful. It’s a bit smug — twinkling with the satisfaction of finally having the upper hand.
Eddie figures it might pay off to be soft with you sometimes. He never wants you to stop looking at him like this.
“You know that’s not what I meant,” he confesses quietly.
Your smile widens. “I know.”
“I’m sorry,” he repeats again, eyes flitting away from yours.
“Don’t be,” you promise. Your nose scrunches softly. “…Wanna give it another go?”
His gaze snaps back up to yours. He has to fight the urge to tease you, lest he ruin the moment he’s been thinking about for months. He’ll be damned if he lets the opportunity slip away from him now.
“Sure you’re not gonna laugh at me this time?” he lilts, looking at you from halfway beneath his lashes.
“I’m not gonna laugh at you,” you promise, though a grin’s already threatening to pull at your mouth.
“Promise?”
“Well, I can show you better than I can tell you.”
You let Eddie lean in first. He exhales a heavy breath from his nose that fans against your skin when your lips collide. The rosy plush of them lock with yours like they were made to do it. His palms rise to your jaw, keeping you tucked neatly against him when the moment threatens to pull you away. 
Your hands migrate to the lapel of his leather jacket. You tug him further to you — a promise that you’re not going anywhere.
You don’t laugh into his kiss this time.
You smile.
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velvetures · 9 months
Note
Hi!!! I saw your post about taking some requests so I thought that I'll give it a shot. If it's possible, could you maybe do a Captain Price one? I haven't seen a story about him yet on your page, so I hope that this request can finally add one to your masterlist.
So here it goes: A Price x virgin!reader one. I feel like he's the type of guy to be really gentle and slow when he realizes that the reader is inexperienced, mostly due to his calm and caring nature. But once they start to get comfy, he'll get kind of rough in some way? And aftercare, I just know that this man would be an expert at it. Would help in washing them up in a tub or even cooking them a meal after. I could see that he's also a sucker for cuddles and just being close to them in general.
So yeah, I really hope that you'll consider this request and possibly write something out of it. If not, that's totally okay!!
Side note: I just wanted to say that I love your stories and that it brings me comfort, too:))
I Knew, Sweetheart
A/N: I'm so sorry this is so fucking looonngg!! I just couldn't get it right and I ended up going for "better is more" in the hopes that it'll hide the god-awful writing. :( Anyways, please don't burn me at the stake. It's my first Price fic, and I've still not got his voice or character dialed in. Summary: Reader is Price's gf, and while they've been together for a little while... sex hasn't come up. Nor the fact that the reader is a virgin!. Reader goes about bringing it up a little unconventionally, and things progress. T/W: virgin!reader, fem-reader, NS/FW 18+ ONLY, p-in-v sex, fingering, unprotected sex (don't do that IRL), established relationship, a little bit of an age-difference?, cursing?, first-time anxiety?, aftercare, probably missed something else. proofreading is for people w/ friends of which I have none.
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John Price set himself apart from most of the men that he often worked alongside when it came to matters of his personal life and the ways in which he operated. A lot of people would often make jokes, saying it was nothing more than his being an “old man” who couldn’t adjust to the newer ways of life. But fuck, he wasn’t that old when it came right down to it, and yes he liked going along with the traditional ways specifically when it came to relationships, at least when he had the chance to. He’d been a lot younger at one point, not seeing how detrimental his actions could’ve been affecting the women he associated with or spent a few hours in bed with just to leave without another word sent their way.
Captain Price knew he’d made many mistakes when the heart was involved. He threw away a lot of advice he’d been given growing up -some good and some bad- all because he thought he knew better or had enough intelligence to figure it out as he went. Much of that changed when he started realizing that he wasn’t fulfilled in the slightest. For a few years, he was bitter over the emptiness. Not understanding where it came from or how the fuck he could get rid of it. Unraveling layer after layer like a frayed pair of jeans, John kept questioning how he’d come so far just to be that alone. Praying his mistakes hadn’t destroyed his chances of finding a little sliver of humanity outside of his work to motivate him. Keep him sane in the most bitter of hours, and soft when everything and everyone else around him kept adding brick after brick into never-ending, emotionless walls.
Then you showed up out of nowhere, sitting on a barstool in one of the pubs he frequented when he had some time away from his work. Close to home and nowhere near busy enough to call a bar or club; John immediately thought you looked like you’d taken a wrong turn and wound up in an old man’s hangout. It took him a few hours of watching out of the corner of his eye to finally weigh the options of being shot down, or possibly making something out of a whole lot of nothing. His offering to buy you a drink led to taking a few puffs off of his cigar outside. From there he learned just about everything about you within the first few weeks of seeing you or calling here and there.
You liked to talk, a lot. Something John was thankful for since he developed a bad habit of just staring at your pretty face instead of listening like he knew too. Fuck it made him feel ten years younger. And that was something else that made your relationship feel unusual to the Captain. More than six years in age difference didn’t sound all that significant on paper. Yet it was more interesting than either of you thought it would be initially. Aside from just simple pop culture references and enjoyment of music and other low-stakes things, your lives were on different paces. John was stable… at least as stable as his work allowed for. While you’d finally got the job you’d been dreaming of, and hadn’t been working for a full year when you met him. Everything all together challenged John, and you as well, with figuring out what you wanted from each other. How you planned -or wanted to- go about making that happen. And if being serious was something that you shared an interest in.
A few months of going on dates and John walking you home was traded for him sharing half the dresser drawers in his bedroom with you. He was gone nearly all of the time, which put a damper on things but he liked having peace of mind that you were safe and in his home. Besides, it was a short drive from his house to your work and you could stop paying half your paychecks on rent and start saving it up for anything you really wanted. At least… anything John hadn’t already bought or given you. Well… there was one thing John hadn’t given you. And it began gnawing at your mind harder and harder every time he went away for a mission and came home without the slightest inclination to do more than give you a kiss.
John Price still hadn’t asked or hinted at wanting to have sex with you.
At first, you thought it was refreshing. Seeing a man old enough and patient to understand that sex wasn’t just given but earned. Yet every time you thought there would be a moment after a date or a ‘welcome home reunion’ where he’d finally bring up the topic, your expectations fell short. Plenty of excuses floated around your brain, including the more rational ones: he was just very respectful. While others were much more self-conscious and saddening: he was getting it somewhere else, or he could see that you weren’t experienced. The age-old struggle of being a virgin past the age of eighteen.
Too old for half the population, and far too young and inexperienced for the others. Sheltered didn’t describe you. You had toys and knew how to give head as well as having been on the receiving end. But going “all the way” eluded you by some miracle or curse. Looking at John in comparison to yourself was just as attractive as it was intimidating. You knew better than to think he didn’t know his way around the bedroom. He was just too smooth. Far beyond any man, you attempted a relationship previously. You wanted to think he respected you, but at the same time, waiting for much longer for him to make a move just felt like another eternity you lacked the patience and confidence to endure. So after a long night of overthinking and wondering how you could even go about bringing it up, you made a decision that when he got back home from his latest mission, you’d be the one to bring it up.
God your hands were sweating. He was supposed to have been home two hours ago and there was still no sign of his truck in the driveway or a single message from him on the phone you had gripped between your damp palms. Everything had been just fine all day, until the sun began to set over the hillside in the backyard, leaving you less than six hours away from John coming through the door. Worried didn’t even begin to explain how your stomach was tied in knots with a low burning fire in your throat. John had been nothing short of perfect -save for being gone so often- and you knew there wasn’t a single reason for you to be so overwhelmed at the mere thought of being an adult and asking him to have sex with you. Of course… You made up your mind to omit that you’d never done it before and just hoped the Captain would be too preoccupied with something else to notice.
Noticing the details quickly got turned around on you when the front door creaked open on its hinges and you hadn’t the slightest clue that John was standing halfway through the threshold with bags slung over his back and a small look of curiosity on his face. His pretty little thing, sitting on the couch with her arms wrapped around her bent knees and a deep stare somewhere far away from the both of them. He had to admit it wasn’t the first time he had caught you sitting with your eyes “comfortable” as you liked to call it; however, it was the first time he’d seen you wearing something quite that lacy for no damn good reason before.
Some kind of black, strappy, and frilly little number. It hardly left anything to the imagination, and John had to force himself not to go into deep thought about how you’d even got into the thing without instructions. It made your figure that much more eye-catching, and after staring at nothing but rain and mud for two weeks you were a sight for sore eyes. Even a Captain had to admit his biggest weaknesses to overcome himself and improve, but he wasn’t sure in that second if he could ever overcome -much less forget- how divine you looked. Honestly, he didn’t even know you owned it to begin with. But by the way, you kept spinning your phone in your hand, he had the vague gut feeling that you had something on your mind. A little more than dinner or fussing over the possible injuries he could’ve sustained while gone.
“Waiting on someone?” He asked lowly, trying his best not to startle you too much. Right away your eyes locked on his and widened. Almost like a little rabbit cornered by a fox and no hole to scurry into. He watched a flash of sudden panic overtake you and how quickly you reached for one of the throw blankets at the end of the couch to hide behind. Price chewed his tongue, forcing himself not to smirk at you at the moment. Wanting so badly to tease you a little bit for looking so sexy in that bodysuit, but acting nothing short of the little shy church girl getting kissed on the cheek for the first time.
“J-John,” Your voice sputters on his name a bit, forcing a smile to his face. He couldn’t help it after being away for this long without the chance to hear you even over the phone for a few minutes. “You’re home a little late.”
He nods, guilty. “Delayed flight. Weather kept us from movin’ out on time.”
Careful, he dropped his bags off at the front door without the slightest concern about how long they’d sit there. More important things were swirling around in his head. Trying to decipher if you were planning something and just backed out, or if you just needed a little bit of coaxing to not be so shy. Hostage negotiation wasn’t something he thought would ever come in handy when it came to interacting with you, yet John found himself rounding around the chairs on the other side of the living room from you, and planning each step he made to ensure he didn’t spook you. That lingerie wasn’t for nothing, and he desperately needed to know what you planned on doing with it.
He licked his lips, taking a steadying breath. “What’s under the blanket, sweetheart?”
You swallowed thickly, “N-nothing… I thought - I hoped it’d look nice,” Fumbling pathetically for an excuse, you finally spit one out all under the very soft and lightly amused eyes of one John Price. “It doesn’t fit.” The second it left your lips, you internally cursed yourself.
John’s eyebrows raised, instantly grabbing onto that loose thread and pulling on it. “I’m sure you’re wrong about that…” He came closer, standing just in front of you on the couch with his hands on his hips. “Come on, why don’t you let me have a look? I’ll give you a second opinion.” His words made your heart stutter, and you weakly shook your head in response.
“I should just return it.” You mutter, scooting over to the side of him and attempting to sneak off with your protective blanket.
You’re not even close to getting away from John when he chuckles, one arm curling around your shoulders and the other getting a firm grip on the material you’re hiding under. Naturally, you don’t exactly fight to get away. But a furious blush breaks out over your cheeks and neck, feeling the preverbal trap tightened around your throat. He’s turning around and sitting down on the couch with a nonnegotiable silent order for you to take a seat straddling his lap. That alone is enough to drive you up a wall with anxious feelings. Not that you’d never sat on his lap before -actually it was quite common- but under these circumstances, there was a lot more than just a little bit of heat passing between the both of you. Very slowly, John found the edge of the blanket and slipped a hand under, searching out for your skin and eventually landing on a little bit of the lacy material stretching in a high cut over your hip. You can actually see his eyes darken, tracing along the hemline and mentally picturing what was under his fingers. Touch alone was making you squirm, avoiding eye contact and trying to keep quiet so as not to embarrass yourself even more than you already felt.
“Oh, sweetheart… fits like a fuckin’ glove.” He whispers lowly, hand palming your asscheek and toying with the thin little string that disappeared into the cleft.
“It’d be a shame for you to get all dressed up… go through all this trouble… then not let me see your hard work.” His voice lulled slow and steady, swaying your fears just enough for you to feel your head nod up and down a couple of times before letting the blanket fall off your shoulders and pool on Price’s lap. The front of the bodysuit had been well-hidden up until now, with you sitting so lady-like in his lap. But the thin straps just crossing around your tits and holding them up without a single stitch of material covering them totally, John thought he’d been shot right through the chest. Between the innocent look in your eyes, and that damned outfit making you appear about as sinful as hell, he couldn’t keep from letting out a low growl and squeezing your ass just hard enough to make you gasp.
“This is what you were trying to hide?” His breathlessness couldn’t be masked, nor could the frequent shift in his eyes between your practically bare chest and eyes. John chuckled, hands drifting towards your hips and up to rest on each side of your ribs. Pushing your tits together just a little bit, almost bewitched by the sight of you like that on his lap. “Oh, you’re such a pretty girl…” He muttered, almost to himself.
Shifting in his lap, you tried to keep your growing arousal and nervousness under control. Each touch set you on fire, and with John moving this slow you couldn’t be sure you’d live long enough to see another day. It was too good feeling a man actually appreciated a woman in front of him. Not just finding the small bits and pieces he preferred and overlooking the rest. You knew being nervous was natural, but the more John rubbed and soothed, it was getting harder and harder not to whine or ask him for just a little bit more to satiate you. Right away, John’s eyes darted up to you, and something you couldn’t quite describe flashed through his eyes just long enough for him to lip his lips and sit up a little straighter, pulling you to sit straddling just one of his thighs.
“I think I know what you want, sweetheart.” He smiled so damn affectionately that it made your heart jump. “But just so I know… why don’t you go ahead and tell me, that way I don’t miss anything. I don’t like to disappoint.” Toying with the zipper of his sweater, you suck in a nervous breath to steady your nerves.
“I want you to, have sex with me.” You hardly whisper the second part, still drawing your own attention towards anything minute that could serve as a focal point with your body shaking so badly.
“Hmm…” His thoughtful hum sends shivers up your spine, and the feeling of his hands massaging your hips makes it hard to breathe. “So I was right,” A smile crosses his face. “Well then, how about you go ahead and take care of this.” He growls a little, his fingers slowly tracing over the barely-there strip of fabric covering your core, already soaking wet with your arousal. Your little moan slips out before you can even try to cover your mouth, and John’s fingers slip away like he was purposefully trying to be mean and deny you a taste of relief.
“John, please…” You whimper, hands resting on his shoulders hoping he’ll take mercy on you.
He just shifts down to rest against the couch a little more and bounces his knee a few times, sending jolts of extreme sensation right up your clit into your lower stomach. You didn’t get it at first… what he wanted you to do. But now you did, and John almost grinned when he saw the realization, followed by the shy look you gave him. Encouragement was needed, and he was more than happy to deliver. Slowly rocking your hips back and forth along his pants, purposefully having settled you on the side that his thigh-holster was strapped to, adding two extra ridges that instantly began working to overstimulate you. It was too good, and not enough. Pushing your inhibitions just a little further out of focus and forcing you to really focus on how nothing more than his thigh was getting you to a release quicker than any toy or trick you’d tried on yourself. Impeccable alone, it was his low voice right in your ear that made everything outside of John Price holding you on his lap disappear.
“Doin’ so good, sweetheart…”
“Making me feel bad for not helping sooner… If I would’ve known how needy you were.”
“That’s it, love. Keep going, want you to let go. Right on my lap, then I’ll take care of you.”
His lips suffocated your moans and whimpers, swallowing each little pleasure and claiming it as his own. John hadn’t taken his time like this in years, but damn it was special seeing you -his pretty little thing- so needy and whining his name. So sensitive to the texture of his cargos that he was actually wondering if you could withstand something more… purposeful. God, he hoped you could. He wanted to tase you so bad after feeling just how wet you were. Fuck, even the dark khaki color of his pants was getting darker with each little jerk and grind of your hips. Thighs twitching and clenching around him like you couldn’t get the right angle, and were slowly getting more pathetically and innocently frustrated. He needed you hungry though… wanted to ensure that this was done properly. And if it meant withholding from you just enough to make sure you were desperate, he’d bite back every urge he had to give you everything right away.
John knew right away that you were a virgin. Either by just his ability to read people or by the way that you didn’t particularly use sex appeal to draw him in right when you first met. You weren’t innocent of how you looked though, and always dressed and acted much to the benefit of being seen as the valuable woman Price always believed you to be. Yet it didn’t escape his curiosity as to how you’d been able to slip through the grasps of so many disrespectful and predatory men who would’ve done anything to have taken their chance at you. Fuck, he was thankful beyond belief. He hated thinking that you could’ve needed to experience pain or discomfort at any point… but he never asked you simply out of respect and the knowledge that at some point the topic would come up. Only, it didn’t come to fruition quite like he expected. In fact, he never imagined that you’d had your first orgasm with him riding his thigh while sitting on the couch in his house. He wouldn’t change it for a goddamn thing, though.
In the moment, he’d wanted nothing more than to hear you. After hearing so many little whines and pleas for his help, he knew you’d sound so beautiful. But his own intentions fell to desire when he crashed his lips to yours, taking those cries of pleasure for himself. There would be plenty more to come for him to bask in the sound of. The first one though? He needed it. It was his to taste and keep forever. Alongside the taste of your pleasure, he relished in your shaking legs and the harsh bite of your nails digging into his shoulders hard enough to feel through two shirts. He felt your desperation just as deeply as his own, and while his cock straining against his zipper was not totally lost to his attention, John could easily stave off his own needs to make sure you were satiated just as thoroughly as deserved for coming on his pants like the good little things you always were.
“Good girl… You did so good for me, sweetheart.” His rough voice rumbled against your ear as his kissed you softly.
Petting your hair and rubbing his other hand down your quivering thigh. As much as he wanted to keep you right here and not disturb your come-down, he wanted you in bed. Needed to see you laid out like he pictured when jerking his cock after weeks of pent-up stress needed a release. Fuck he wanted to take you slow in his bed and wake up in the morning with you wrapped around him and the smell of sex on the sheets. Before you could really even catch your breath, John had you spread out on the bed with him staring down at you almost astonished. You were just as affected, seeing the heavy outline of his dick parallel to his zipper and ending just at his belt. His eyes caught your lingering, and he chuckled, biting his tongue with his back teeth before squeezing himself and shrugging like it wasn’t the hottest thing you’d ever seen him do. The little gasp you let out only gave him that much more confidence to keep teasing you as much as he’d been.
Slowly, painfully, stripping off one piece of clothing at a time and letting it drop to the floor. Eyes locked on yours like he was getting off to how you reacted to each little inch of skin that was bared to you. If you didn’t know better, you would’ve thought he enjoyed all of the attention on him. When in reality, he was just mesmerized by how in awe you were of him, looking like a war-torn soldier with his scars and hardened body. You were holding your breath for the moment he pushed his underwear down off his hips, standing downright predatory with his fist tight around the base of his thick and glistening cock. If you ever had a moment of hesitation about doing this with John, they dissolved in that single moment. Because your next movement was to reach your hands out, wiggling your fingers for him to come closer.
“What would you like?” He asks, coming to stand at the foot of the bed just out of your reach.
“You.” You answer a little plainly, making him chuckle.
“Not quite specific enough, sweetheart.” His eyes drop to your body hugged in that black outfit and he bites at his cheek. “But as much as I love you in that, I’d like to see you take it off.” A very easy request. Had it not been for your inability to reach the little snap at the back that kept you tied into all of the lace and straps. So, you very politely raised up and sat on your knees with your back to John and gave him the sweetest look you could manage.
“Give me hand, Captain?”
He nearly ripped the fucking thing off.
The moment he had your seduction tactic of clothing balled up in his fist, he felt the first little surge of his common sense holding him back a little bit. Base instinct screamed for him to sink into you as quickly as possible. But feeling your hands rub over his chest and your shy little kisses to his neck reminded him of circumstance. Pinned against your belly, his cock twitched in response to your teeth grazing accidentally over his collarbone. You were about to whisper an apology when John wrapped a hand around your throat to tilt your head up and suck hard just under your jaw. He liked when you did that… The thought gave you a little bolt of satisfaction. One that progressed into your hands sliding down his stomach until your fingers curled around his thick shaft, earning a warning sound of a moan deep in his chest.
“So fuckin’ soft…” He murmured against your shoulder, kissing it hotly and slowly rocking his hips against your hands. Teasing himself. Edging closer to try and raise a little bit of resistance so he wouldn’t spill his load on the bed long before he was damn well ready. Your silky little hands spreading his arousal over his length only lasted for a few minutes before John was pulling you away with heaving breaths and a flush breaking out over his cheeks.
“Too much?” You ask a little giggly when he lays you back and crawls up to kneel between your spread legs.
His reaction is one of raised eyebrows and a devilish kind of smile that makes you feel like you just made a little too accurate of a joke to be laughing. John gives you a little warning ‘tsk tsk’, shaking his head like he could try and hide the lust and affection swirling in his dark eyes at the sight of you giggling, and all spread out for him like a five-course meal the Queen of England couldn’t afford to buy. A wiser man might’ve believed himself worthy of you, enough that his dirty hands could touch you and try to give you pleasure in the way they assumed to know best. Yet John leaned over you with the knowledge that he was one of the most unworthy men on the planet, and you had so much grace and love inside of you that it didn’t matter. One little touch and you could cleanse him of every blood stain he’d not been able to clean or sinful act of revenge he couldn’t resist committing. Above all else, you’d decided in all your innocence of the world that you trusted him with your body as much as you’d already handed over your heart and mind.
John kissed you. Hard. With everything he had to offer in return for the invaluable
With that, he’s, hauling you up against him. He wants you laying right on top of him so he can sleep soundly with you right against him. He’s very quick to give you more praise and ask again if you’re feeling okay mentally and physically. You mention feeling just a little insecure, despite all of his very purposeful care throughout the whole process, but Price won’t have it.
Right away he’s kissing you softly, hands rubbing over your back and butt affectionately. Letting you know just how special he feels that you trusted him, as well as just how lucky he was to find someone like you in the first place. Holding the back of your head and gently cradling you against his lips; Tongue licking into your mouth and groaning softly when you mirror his movements, even going far enough to nip at his tongue. Using that same little hint of him enjoying your teeth on him. Just like before, you’re met with another warning sound of a growl, and John is pulling back and moving his head between your legs with a careful watch on your reaction.
“Can’t wait any longer, sweetheart.” He kissed your inner thigh sweetly. “Please let me taste your sweet little pussy.”
His words shock your body, and your head falls back with the little bit of erotic pleads overwhelming you. God, it was making you drip onto the sheets feeling him so close yet waiting for your answer. Pathetically, you couldn’t get the word ‘yes’ out of your mouth for a few long minutes. Just enough time for him to lovingly suck bruises onto your inner thighs and mean you scream out his name, squirming under his hands to try and get some real relief.
John takes pity on you, stopping long enough to let you catch your breath. “Come on pretty girl. Just say the word… I’ll make you feel so fuckin’ good.”
“Yes, yes, yes… please. I need more!” Your airy pleas fall like angel’s trumpets on his ears, as his mouth descends hungrily onto your cunt.
Licking through your slick folds and growling your own name back against your core with the sweet and alkaline flavor. Your hips buck up and you cry out, feeling his tongue lash over your clit for the first time and right away he’s got one forearm over your hips to hold them steady with the other hand held tight with his fingers intertwined with yours. His mustache tickles against your skin and you can feel him resting his head against your thigh, almost like he’s getting comfortable for an extended stay with his tongue in your cunt.
Another orgasm is ripped from you without warning less than ten minutes into John’s unyielding assault on your sensitive clit. And it’s this time that John ensures your thighs can’t wrap around his head for the sole purpose of hearing your loud and raw scream of his name. Blissed out, and shaking once again, John smiles against your pussy; Lapping up any remaining release he’d missed mere seconds before and feeling the dull pressure of your heels digging into his back.
“God, you’re so good for me sweetheart,” His praise blows cool air over your folds and you jerk a little, whining when you feel his lips return back down to you. Slowly, teasingly, he began all over again just as he did the first time.
It takes a couple seconds for you to realize he doesn’t plan on stopping. But when you do, crying for him to stop when he begins using his thumb to tease your clit while his tongue fucks slowly in and out of your clenching hole. John almost laughs, darkly and amused with your little cries and moans. Feeding off of your pleasure just to give it right back to you in the direct motivation of making you come on his tongue and fingers this time.
“F-fuck - John! Sh-shit,” Your stuttered voice falls into an unabashed groan when he teases his finger at your entrance, and slowly slides it deep into your fluttering pussy, squeezing around it tightly. Hungry for more, and weeping with each small curl of the digit hitting on your upper wall.
Your eyes roll back, and you attempt to push John’s head back to try and ease the stimulation, just to feel his hand holding you back and in place. It’s maddening, feeling so good that it’s almost bringing tears to your eyes, having already come twice -more than you typically gave yourself- and no sign of him letting you escape.
God, John was pushing you to the boundary of everything you knew about your own body, as well as giving you the first, raw, experience of just how good sex could be. Lifting your head up just to try and get a small glance at him, you catch the sight of his eyes, fiery and intense looking right back up at you with your own come soaking his mustache and the entire lower half of his handsome face. You clench around his digit again, being pushed that much closer to the edge just at the visual alone.
Your third release came as quickly as the first two, this time resulting in the delicious stretch of John’s three fingers pumping in and out of your cunt, literally slurping up your release; Almost dragging it out of you like he couldn’t stand the thought of not swallowing every drop. He whispered your name so gently as he came to rest on his forearms overtop of you, kissing your forehead with his wet lips and feeling his hair stick against your sweaty forehead.
“Sweetheart…” his tone had softened to the smallest whisper you’d ever heard from him. “Are you sure you want this? We can stop here if you’d like.”
Opening your eyes to see his handsome face and the slight of his hair in a total mess, you knew getting away with not mentioning your lack of experience was impossible. Your John… wasn’t nearly as unobservant as you’d wanted him to be. Without more than a tired little smile, you nodded. Raising your head weakly just far enough to kiss him gently, tasting yourself against your lips and feeling the slight quiver of his breath.
“Please, I want this. I want you John.”
Initially, no matter how much he’d taken care to prep you there was still a deep stretch as his thick cock began slowly entering you. Sweetly, he worked you through each little discomfort, giving you kiss after kiss and running his hands through your hair. Distracting from the little sting that had never been present with your toys, and praising you until his hips pressed flush against yours.
“Fuucckkk yes,” Price couldn’t hold back the loud groan as he looked down to see your pretty little cunt taking every last inch of his dick and squeezing so hard he could barely think straight.
“Takin’ my cock so good… Such a pretty girl, my good little thing…” His murmurs and curses slowly devolved the further you progressed.
Your body slowly adjusted to the intrusion and the gentle thrusts John made the moment you began squirming and pleading with him to move through your little hiccups. The unusual feeling of John moving inside of you slowly began to coax moans and praise from your mouth every time the crown of his cock rubbed deep against a swollen, textured, spot inside of you that built up pressure so quickly that you needed to wrap your legs around his hips to keep them from shaking uncontrollably. Each stroke got harder and harder, with John eventually pounding his cock deep inside of you, moaning and using one arm to wrap around your waist to hold your lower body still so he could bring both of you closer.
“J-John…” Your voice jolted with each snap of his hips as you tried to warn him.
Feeling that familiar yet almost destructive power of another climax rushing through your lower body. Convinced you didn’t have enough left in you to come again, you felt tears pricking your eyes, overwhelmed with immense pleasure skyrocketing you towards a final orgasm you kept denying until John’s fingers reached between you and expertly began rubbing tight circles around your clit, violently tossing you into whited-out vision, and muted hearing.
Above you, John found his own release and shared it at the same time as yours. Fisting the bedsheets to keep from grabbing ahold of you too tightly and bruising you; his cock getting squeezed so tightly from your climax that it was almost painful to stay seated inside of you. With so little arm strength left, he fell nearly full-weight on top of you and only propped himself up by his elbows to keep from suffocating you.
Utterly wrecked, and feeling more than you’d ever experienced more than you’d felt in your life, it took minutes before you could open your eyes and actually have enough of the mental capacity to realize that John was gently stroking your head, kissing your forehead and your nose, and holding you tightly to him as the strong muscle jerks and twitches in your body began to die out.
“You here with me?” Low and comforting, you smile dazedly with your eyes heavy and trying to focus on him.
You merely nod your head yes and give what you assumed was a ‘mhmmm’ but might’ve sounded more like a small animal being choked or drowned. Naturally, John’s lips spread into a very happy and amused smile, cupping your cheek with his hand and pressing a kiss to your lips softly.
“Come on, sweetheart…” John whispered, pulling your head up to his chest and gently easing himself out of you with a low sigh.
You’re once again lifted up and whisked away, this time, into the bathroom just off to the side of the bedroom where John carefully sits you down on the edge of the bathtub and starts running hot water with the lights dimmed low. Certain he’s got everything for your bath within your reach and the water is high enough for you to really sink down into in and relax, he gives you a soft kiss and promises to return after just a couple minutes.
He returns before you even work up the desire to wash your hair, and immediately takes over the task of getting you cleaned up himself. In between the lulls of soaps, and conditioners, John will pose quiet questions, asking how you’re feeling and wanting to know if there was anything that hurt you physically or was bothering you mentally. His care was intense and very personal, giving you much more confidence and comfort after having such a draining experience. Of course, you felt fantastic throughout, but when he asked if you were tired, there was a feeling that he already knew you were and expected you to tell him how he could best support you.
Other than letting your head rest against his chest. Leaving not one inch of your body neglected, from your face to your feet. Throughout the process you watch through sleepy eyes, seeing a very peaceful sort of look on his face while soaping you up and helping you rinse off and step out of the slippery bathtub into a warm towel you could only assume he’d thrown in the dryer just for your comfort.
Holding the towel around yourself, you peck him on the lips and smile, too tired to really say anything of real value. However, you’re certain John understands by the way his arms wrap you up and hold you tight to his bare chest while running his fingers through your wet hair, helping get out some of the little tangles your conditioner couldn’t quite take care of alone.
“I love you, John. More than anything.”
He drops a kiss on top of your head, rocking your weights back and forth in the dimmed light of the bathroom. Admiring your little form in the darkened silhouette of his much larger one.
“I love you too, sweetheart.”
“You’re my best friend.”
He chuckles, finding that so very endearing.
“You’re mine too.”
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yeah... the "you're my best friend" part, me and my husband do that <3 so.... that's a thing.
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gentlyweeps-world · 2 months
Text
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Irregular occurrences
sequel to regular occurrences
SMAU / fic
summary: You managed to balance a relationship with a driver whilst being a Sky Sports interviewer- but you’re old affair isn’t a fan.
pairing: charles leclerc x fem!reader
warnings: mentions of cheating | suggestive tones | toxic Pierre
genre: fluff-ish
notes: I did itttt
LIGHTS OUT AND AWAY WE GO
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youruser posted to their page
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charles_leclerc 🤍🤍🤍
youruser 🫶🫶
skysportsf1 ??????
youruser whoops?
scuderiaferrari ??????
user7392 the reactions are killing me 😭😭
user9293 SAME OMG
francisca.cgomes cuties 😘😘
youruser 🤍🤍
francisca.cgomes you’re welcome 🫶
youruser thank you kika 🫶
user632 has anyone noticed that Pierre unfollowed Y/n AND CHARLES??
user632 He hasn’t liked any of her or Charles posts lately 🤨
user3729 I always thought he acted suspicious with Y/n
user0018 Y/n would never do anything with him, her and Kika are friends plus her and Charles are together
user632 still suspicious 🤷‍♀️
landonorris Hey guys…this is a little bit too random
youruser oops?
user7483 how tf is she with Charles
user7483 she’s not even pretty wtf
user7483 she’s such a pick me
user3391 And who’s the one leaving hate comments on Y/n L/n post?
user3391 So stfu and get a life 🫶
lissiemackintosh Congrats baby!!🤍
youruser tyyy 🫶
“Hey Charles..what I posted to instagram was okay right?” You ask, looking up at him from your phone, admiring how he looked basking in the sun.
You two hadn’t put out anything official, especially since you hadn’t told anyone- well Pierre knew, and Kika…but that was different.
It was sometimes nice that Charles knew about what happened with you and Pierre, but there were moments that you knew he didn’t fully trust you, which was reasonable!
But you assured him many times you only wanted him, you were tired of being the other woman, tired of empty promises from Pierre, tired of being casted aside.
“Yes it was okay cheri..you don’t need to ask..” Charles says with a chuckle, glancing over at you from his spot.
“Half of the media speculates that we were together anyway..” He adds on.
“Yeah..that’s true” You say with a small chuckle. You continue to scroll through some of the comments, mainly focused on the hate ones.
Charles catches onto that quick, and yanks your phone from your hands. “No need to care what others think..” He says, placing your phone by his, far out of reach from you.
“But…” You start to say, although Charles has you stopping mid sentence with a single look.
“Let’s just relax, yeah? Nice beautiful day out on my yacht okay?” He says with a smile, wrapping an arm around you to pull you close to his side.
“Alright..” You mumble out, leaning your head on his shoulder as you two bask in the sun, the rocking of the boat slowly relaxing you.
“Yeah- yeah definitely..” You mumble out, heart racing a bit, you and Charles hadn’t really been intimate, sure you two have kissed but that was really all. You guys have only been together for maybe three months, and to be honest you were scared to do anything- after Pierre.
Mostly because with Pierre it was different, it felt great, amazing even- but it was wrong.
That was the issue, you felt guilty constantly.
“Are you still worried about Pierre?” Charles asks softly, his eyes meeting yours. You instantly feel like you’re on a different planet, his eyes are soothing and warm.
“You can tell me cheri…don’t be afraid….I’m here for you...” Charles adds as he squeezes your hand softly.
“I don’t know Charles…with him I felt so guilty, I felt like I was always the second option..”
“He’d say all these things, promise me he’d tell her and change- but he never did…”
“And I’m happy for him and Kika! I am, they are an amazing couple..but it still hurt, y’know?” You say softly, fidgeting with Charles fingers as you open up to him fully about that situation.
“I know Y/n…it’s understandable..” Charles says softly and wipes away the small tear from your cheek gently. “I will never make you feel like a second option.”
Charles smiles softly and caresses your cheek, it feels nice, it feels like he’s appreciating you for everything you have to offer.
“Thank you..” You whisper out softly with a smile, leaning into his hand.
But the tender moment is ruined- because of course it is. You can hear Charles phone vibrate with a call, and you’d only have one guess as to who it would be.
Charles lets out a sigh, moving away from you to grab his phone, “It’s Pierre..” He grumbles out, quickly answering it and getting up, starting to mutter some phrases in French to Pierre, none of it you could understand- but you did understand that it sounded heated.
After a few minutes the conversation starts to die down, but starts to get heated back up. You could tell Charles wasn’t having any of it.
“Leave us the fuck alone” Charles grumbles out then hangs up, quietly muttering a curse as he sits down next to you.
“What did he want..?” You ask out softly, sitting up. You were unsure what to say- or do. It all felt tense now.
“Don’t worry about it…it’s just Pierre being Pierre” Charles replies with a small sigh, looking out across the ocean and closing his eyes.
Charles looks over and smiles softly and the moment is back, the tension is gone and life is somewhat normal again.
“Alright…” You say with a soft smile, knowing it’s better to forget that, and move on from Pierre.
——
“What time do you think you’ll be back?” You ask Charles, pressing a kiss to his cheek as he puts on his coat.
“I’m not sure cheri…I’ll text you though” He says with a smile, placing a kiss to your lips as he leaves his apartment, going to do some sim work.
You smile to yourself, it was nice with Charles. He was sweet and considerate, it was really nice.
You decide to busy yourself with some extra work you had to get done. Clicking away and your computer you’re pulled out of your daze when you hear a knock at the apartment door.
“Coming!” You say, moving off the couch and to the door opening it.
“Didn’t Charles tell you to leave us alone?” You say as soon as you open the door and see Pierre.
Pierre looks at you with a smug smile, his hands in his pockets, and he leans against the wall. “Well this is awkward…me here, you home alone…” Pierre replies with a smirk, his voice was like butter but there was a hidden underneath.
“Listen you should leave Pierre- what happened between us is in the past..” You say with a sigh.
“You’re with Kika and I’m with Charles, just move on please” You add on.
“Is that so?” Pierre asks raising and eyebrow and he steps in closer to you to close the distance.
“But you know how it is…I have a habit that is hard to break of coming to you when I need a bit of…stress relief.” Pierre replies with a grin, his voice is sultry and you can’t help but get butterflies.
“What we had was regular..I liked it, it’s simpler with you” Pierre adds on with a grin.
“Pierre what we had was a mistake, it can’t be regular anymore! I enjoyed it in the moment, but I felt guilty constantly!”
“You would promise me that you’d tell her, that you would break up with her! But you didn’t! So move on!” You say, your frustration growing.
“Guilt isn’t always a bad thing cheri..” Pierre replies with a smirk, wrapping his arm around your waist as he pulls you towards him, the smell of his cologne was intoxicating.
“Why do I have to let her go? Why not have more fun with you and keep her?” Pierre asks softly as he places his hand on your neck.
You feel a sick feeling start to form in your stomach, “Why- why are you doing this?” You say, grabbing his wrist and pulling his arm away.
“Please just leave me alone Pierre, I don’t want you anymore, I don’t want to be casted aside anymore”
Pierre chuckles. “I like this side of you cheri.. the one where you’re feisty and defensive.” Pierre takes your hand and places it on his chest.
“How can you say you don’t want me when we have such great chemistry..all those times we spent together felt amazing…” Pierre adds on and you notice a smugness in his tone and on his face.
“You’re just jealous Pierre, now fucking get out” You say, moving him towards the door.
Pierre scrunches up his face in annoyance and looks at you. “Okay fine, I’ll leave…but I hope to see you soon cheri.” Pierre replies softly and leaves.
You’re glad he was out of your life now, but a part of you still misses him and the chemistry you two have.
No! No, you have Charles, you like Charles!
You let out a sigh and collapse onto the couch, deciding sleep was a much better option than work.
“Cheri? You awake?” You hear Charles whisper out, you feel his hand brush through your hair.
Charles’ gentle touch was soothing and peaceful, and you start to relax under his touch.
“Mhm…” You mumble out softly and your eyes flutter open. You see the smile on his face and you couldn’t feel anything but content at that moment.
Yeah. You’re happy with Charles.
••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••
notes 🪩: I’m back and taking requests!🫶
taglist: @cixrosie @amajixi @i-wish-this-was-me @nelly187 @hannahwsworld @sltwins @peachbly @minkyungseokie @minseok-smaus @zahhh709 @redcloudedelk @itsprashimusic @janeholt3
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sarahs-library · 6 months
Text
Forgotten: Part Three
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Azriel resolves to find answers; you try to keep from falling apart.
A/N - Finally! This week was really busy for me and all I wanted to do was get this finished. I hope you enjoy it, despite the angst. Cassian is the real star here, I absolutely loved writing his little part in this one. Any feedback is greatly appreciated!
Word count: 5,982
Part One ☪ Part Two
Forgotten Universe: Pretty Eyes
Azriel
“We really can’t put it off any longer, you know how unruly they get if left to their own devices for too long.” Azriel nodded absent-mindedly, his attention still mostly on the papers in front of him. Several months’ worth of reports had been piled on his desk by Rhys, an olive branch, something to occupy him whilst he waited out Madja’s orders of rest and recuperation. No training and no flying, not until the lingering effects of the concussion that still left him feeling weak had subsided.
After the disastrous intervention his family had staged yesterday culminated in him storming away from the table feigning a headache, he’d locked himself away in his room, preferring his solitude whilst he’d sorted through the mess of emotions. Finding sleep that night had been impossible. After hours spent tossing within the sheets and wrestling with an empty sense of wrongness he couldn’t explain, he resolved to sneak into the training room in the early hours and get through his regime before the rest of the house was stirring. His shadows alerted him to Cassian’s presence, moments before he found him only partway through his warm-up. His disappointment made Azriel feel like a chastised child, and he preferred to flee rather than confront his family’s meddling concern for his welfare.
He’d been holed up in his study ever since. Though well maintained by the House, the bound reports were old and mostly pertained to his early years as the Night Court’s spymaster. Now his preferred place of storage rather than the quiet sanctuary for work he remembered.
“You don’t have to explain it to me, Rhys, I understand.” Azriel continued to avoid his brother as he lounged in a chair opposite. He couldn’t stand to look at him, at any of his family. A constant reminder of everything he’d lost after waking. But the perfect opportunity was presenting itself, he just had to bide his time.
“I would understand if you didn’t want to come, with everything that’s happened.” Azriel still knew his brother. Knew that Rhys would rather disadvantage himself by not having him attend the Court of Nightmares than cause him distress. He also knew that Rhys would expect him to protest, to martyr himself and come anyway, for his family, his court, as he had done so many times before.
The shadows he’d sent out earlier, reluctant but reliable, began to slink back in under the closed door. They dispersed into the room, melding into their siblings hanging off the bookcase and in the archways of the windows. They heeded his silent plea to stay out of Rhys’ eyeline. Azriel touched the pads of his two scarred fingers to his forehead and closed his eyes, feigning discomfort.
The headache powder Elain had thoughtfully gifted him sat on the desk. Sweet, beautiful Elain who had paid attention to him, noticed the mannerisms he shielded with shadows and made him feel seen in a way his family never had. Who the male he’d become had seemed to snub. After tearing his room apart, he found the powder that he remembered so recently staring at as he tried to find sleep. In a drawer with broken-handled daggers and scraps of patching leather, gathering dust. Azriel met Rhys’ gaze and hoped that he wouldn’t be able to read the insincerity. He paused as if considering, before nodding in agreement.
“I think that would be best.” The slight widening of his brother’s eyes was the only sign of his surprise. “I’m sorry.” The apology was real, the guilt of manipulating Rhys lay heavy on his conscious.
“No, don’t be sorry. We understand Az. We just…We just want you to take care of yourself right now, brother.” Azriel swallowed heavily but managed to keep his face masked in unease. Rhys deserved better than this. His shadows thickened around him, sensing his emotional turmoil and desire to hide away. Rhys rose and leaned over the desk before clasping Azriel on the shoulder. He could feel the warmth of his brother’s hand through the dark dress shirt he wore. The affection on his face, so open and expressive now that Feyre had entered their lives, only served to make Azriel fall deeper into the pit of his self-loathing.
“We’ll be back this evening, Nesta will stay behind at the House with you in case you need anything.” His shadows affirmed that she was in the library a few floors below, engrossed in her latest smutty romance novel. It would be hours before she deigned to come back to reality, more than enough time for him to accomplish his task.
“I’ll finish reading these reports.” A tried-and-true tactic, Rhys had always understood Azriel’s need to use his work to buffer and evade situations that made him feel uncomfortable. He couldn’t let it go though, not completely. Not when Azriel was a shell of the male he’d been just a week before. The change had been gradual, Rhys couldn’t pinpoint when his brother had become happier in life, and more open in displaying his affection. Or at least less inclined to shroud himself in shadows. “Join us for dinner tonight?” The silence that followed was heavy.
Maybe it was the guilt, but Azriel found himself angling his head in acquiescence. Amethyst eyes brightened and Rhys nodded, accepting that Azriel was at least trying at some semblance of normalcy. Stepping away, Rhys resolved to dedicate himself to bringing his brother back to them, back to you, to the babe whose birth was fast approaching. The surge of power as he winnowed back to the River House left a lingering essence in the room. Azriel exhaled slowly, excitement and nervousness building in tandem as he realised the plan he set in motion was coming to fruition.
The shadows descended now, curling up to wait to relay the information. You found her? He asked; a chorus of voices relaying their affirmation. Where?
Rising from the chair behind the desk, straightening the papers into neat piles before glancing one last time at the small pot of powder, he returned to his bedroom. The door to the balcony hung ajar, letting in a cool morning breeze. He slipped through and climbed onto the edge overlooking Velaris. Stretching out the stiff muscles of his wings he gave a few precursory beats before launching himself off the balcony into a free fall over the city. His wings caught him in a gentle glide as he neared the rockface below and leveled out, carefully he prolonged riding the updraft as much as he could before he started to fly. The beats were slow, just enough to keep him a respectful distance from the city skyline but not enough to draw attention should Nesta decide to look out the window.
He followed the winding path of the Sidra through the city and reached the house nestled in the outskirts in a matter of minutes. There were no signs of activity, but his shadows had confirmed she was there. Circling the structure he tipped into his descent, heavy boots hitting cobbled stone as he landed in the lush gardens.
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Your POV
You gripped the mug tightly between your hands, savouring the warmth seeping through the porcelain as you blew gently causing craters in the hot tea. As exhausted and emotional as you had been last night, sleep had eluded you long into the early morning. You’d managed a few fitful hours, but the gnawing emptiness Azriel’s absence left could not be abated. Separated only by the city of Velaris, you felt as though you may have been on separate worlds.
The babe you carried, so active now in the last stages of your pregnancy, had greeted the morning with a symphony of limbs played against your ribs. But it seemed that even they had stopped for the beauty of the sunrise over the skyline. You rubbed fondly against your abdomen, trailing a thumb over a small rounded bony prominence. The heel of a foot or the curved apex of a wing.  
Your eyes moved from the window to take in the nursery in the dawning light. A Pegasus, poised to take flight hovered on the wall by the small planet in one of the corners of the galaxy mobile. Home. You hadn’t thought seriously about your world in centuries, the one left behind as fire and brimstone destroyed everything you once had. You considered how your life would be different if you had never been forced to flee, to lead a nomadic existence through the stars.
You started as you heard the flapping wing beats that circled the house, descending lower before a pair of boots thudded against the stone. Abandoning the mug, you braced your arms to haul yourself out of the rocking chair in the nursery’s corner, cursing the sheer size your abdomen had grown to and how it restricted even the most basic of movements. Your feet were quick against the floor of the hall and as you began your descent of the stairs, leaning back to accommodate the additional weight that threw off your centre of gravity.
A heavy knock on the door made you more breathless than the sudden burst of activity. Your heart swelled.
“I’m coming!” Smiling as you called out. You faltered slightly when you heard the response.
“Hurry up! It’s freezing out here.” Cassian. The excitement that had bubbled in your chest died, hitting your stomach and leaving a leaden feeling in its wake. You were still on the stairs, taking a moment to collect yourself before you continued the down, moving much slower this time.
You made it to the bottom slightly out of breath, making sure to school your features before reaching out to open the front door. Cassian stood, a solid mass of muscle and a wide grin, grasping a crinkled paper bag in one of his mammoth hands. You couldn’t help returning him a small smile which soon died as you considered his unscheduled appearance.
“Is everything okay? Is it..Is it Az?” You knew Feyre and the others had spoken to him, tried to explain to him this new world he’d woken up to. She had confided in you last night that it hadn’t gone according to plan, that there hadn’t been the opportunity to convey more than basic information before he’d fled. She’d been apologetic, promising to try to see if she could get through to him, asking if there was anything you needed before returning to the River House.
“Oh. No, no, he’s fine. Well, I caught him trying to train this morning against Madja’s orders but that’s just Az being predictable.” Cassian shifted his weight and looked down at the bag he cradled like it held something precious. “The bakery across from the Sidra, the one that sells the hazelnut croissants. Az said that he was picking them up for you every morning after training. That you’d been cravin’ ‘em, so here.” He held the bag, heavy with sweet-smelling pastries, out across the threshold to you. Tears pricked the back of your eyes as you reached for them, meeting Cassian sheepish grin as he took in the emotion displayed clearly on your face.
“Thank you.” It was a near whisper, but you managed to get the words around the lump that had formed in your throat. The hulking male shrugged it off as if to say it was nothing. You swallowed before speaking again. “You hungry?” His grin widened, taking on a lupine quality as he scoffed and stepped over the threshold at the invitation.
“Like you need to ask."
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Azriel
The cloying, sweet smell rising from the uniform beds of roses tickled his nose. Morning dew clinging to the blades of grass left trails of shining wetness on the leather of his shoes. The wrought iron garden table held a pot of steaming tea, a clear glass sticky with the remnants of juice, and two plates dusted with crumbs. Shadows directed him towards the bottom of the garden and Azriel's heart raced with anticipation as he thought about seeing her again.
She knelt on a towel with her back to him, gloveless hands digging into damp soil. Azriel took a moment to admire how the cut of the lavender dress exposed the gentle curve of her shoulders. An errant lock of hair hung forward, swinging with her movements and he longed to pull it back behind her ear and trace his fingers against the soft skin of her neck, feeling her warmth beneath his fingertips.
“Elain.” She started, pulling her hands from the dirt and turning to face him. Her eyes widened in surprise and her lips parted slightly.
“Azriel, what are you doing here? Madja said you needed to rest.” He drew closer to where she still knelt frozen in the grass.
“I couldn’t stay away, I had to see you.” She shifted her weight, rising to her feet quickly. The hem of her dress brushed against the grass as she took several steps away from his advance, the lavender darkening from the wetness. “Please.” Elain stopped her retreat at his plea.
“Azriel…” She was beautiful, even as her brows furrowed in concern. Azriel wanted to take her face between his hands, wanted to bare his soul and promise to do anything, be anything that she needed.
“You can’t deny this Elain, what’s here between us. You feel it, I know you do. And the Solstice, I know what I said but…It’s not what I meant. It was Rhys, he was concerned about the bond you share with Lucian, about the repercussions of me courting you.”
Elain sighed, “I know that Azriel. You may not remember, but I do.”
"I remember the Solstice,” she continued. “I remember what you said. But I also remember the way you looked at me, the way you touched me. I remember the way you made me feel."
Elain paused, her eyes meeting Azriel's. “And I remember being happy in those months after, happy with you.” Azriel's heart swelled with hope. “But it...We didn’t work Azriel, not like that.”
“What do you mean?” Azriel asked, seeming to deflate under Elain’s gaze.  “If we were happy…”
“We were. Initially at least. But being mated to Lucien, even though I hadn’t accepted the bond, strained us. You’ve always struggled with feelings of inadequacy, no matter what I did it wasn’t enough, not to help you get past that.” He’d realised, when he spoke with Rhys on the Solstice, that he hadn’t considered a life with Elain outside the moments he stole before sleep. After he had, the life he’d built in his mind hadn’t factored in her continued bond with Lucien.
“We both wanted each other for the wrong reasons.” She continued, Azriel’s hope morphed into a sick sense of dread. “I wanted control, to be able to dictate something in my life that wasn’t because of the Cauldron. And you were chasing what Rhys and Cassian have.” Elain’s words gave free rein to all the thoughts of inadequacy, an open invitation for the dark whispers of self-deprecation to taunt and tease and belittle him for expecting anything else, for expecting more. Of course, he couldn’t have what his brothers had; he didn’t deserve it.  
Elain’s eyes were knowing, as if she could follow the train of insecurities his thoughts had taken. She closed the distance between them, her features radiant and softened with compassion. She reached out and took his hand, hidden by his side in a whirlpool of shadows, gently clasping it between her own. She had never shied away from his hands; it was one of the things that enamoured Azriel to her. 
“The decision to end our relationship was a mutual one. I think we both recognised that we couldn’t make our relationship what either of us truly needed.” Azriel no longer looked at her face, but where their hands touched. His skin was imperfect from the path the flames left, hers was torn and dirty from the garden. All he had wanted since the Solstice was to feel her touch. Now, as her palms cradled his own, an unexpected wave of instinct that screamed it was the wrong pair of hands made itself known. Azriel forced it back.
“I know that I need you, Elain. You and I understand each other. We could make this work; I know that too.” Elain smiled at him. Not in relief or joy, but the kind of smile that is given when you indulge someone.  
“There are no second chances for us. This is all temporary, what you feel for me. Once you remember you will-“Azriel couldn’t stop himself from interrupting her, addressing the memory that had burned under his skin since their lips had touched.
“You kissed me back.”
“You surprised me. It wasn’t…Azriel I understand that you’re scared but…” Trailing off, she sucked a deep breath in between her teeth. He tore his gaze away from their hands to fix on her face and was surprised to see anger waiting for him there.
“It was a mistake, Azriel.” And there Elain was, throwing back the words he’d said to her at the Solstice. “If you could see the way you’re acting right now, you’d be horrified.” She ripped her hands from his and took a step back. The sudden loss of contact had the warmth her skin had left on his cooling in the morning breeze. Azriel felt mournful at the loss, but any emotion seemed to pale in comparison to the gaping chasm of emptiness that still sat behind his sternum.
A shriek of joy broke the tension between them. Azriel tensed, taken off-guard. His shadows had been unusually quiet, they often disappeared completely in Elain’s presence, but since he woke up he was finding them to be downright uncooperative. They hadn’t alerted him of anyone else’s presence in the gardens. Instinct drove his hand to his thigh as he turned towards the sound. A boy with a mop of dark unruly hair barrelled towards him, wings flapping in excitement. In an outstretched hand spearheading his charge was a battered wooden sword.
Azriel reacted on instinct, shifting his weight to remain standing as the boy threw his arms around his thighs. Hazel eyes met blue-grey, a perfect replica of his High Lady’s. The boy's cheeks were flush from activity, and a wide toothy smile shone from his face as he looked up at Azriel.
Nyx.
Rhys had said he was perfect. Looking at the small joy-filled child a distant part of Azriel agreed. But seeing him, this obvious reminder of the time he had lost was so much worse than looking at the expectant faces of his family.
“You’re back!” His face was still pressed against the soft leather covering Azriel’s thighs. Azriel returned the child’s embrace by placing a hand on his small shoulder, moving slowly and half-expecting the child to flinch away. Nyx didn’t. Instead, his grin seemed to grow impossibly wider, such open displays of affection nurtured in an upbringing that he and his brothers had only dreamed of. Nyx released Azriel’s legs, toy sword still gripped in one hand as he announced without preamble that they were going to play together.
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Your POV
You followed the cobblestone path next to the Sidra deeper into the heart of the city. The light coat you wore protected you from the chill in the air as you buried your hands deeper into your pockets. The sun offered little warmth to your face but you basked in the feeling. As beautiful as the seasons were in Velaris, the bleakness winter promised often had you yearning for warmer climes.
It was still early but the city was beginning to bustle with activity, you watched as vendors began opening stalls to display their wares. Observed the groups of people clustered around tables tucked near the rails shielding them from the steep drop of the river’s bank, enjoying steaming drinks and warm food. The breakfast you’d shared with Cassian, all wide grins, bad jokes, and dancing around the elephant in the room, had left you in better spirits than you had expected. Still, seeing all the residents of the city going about their business coursed envy through your veins.
You hadn’t realised you’d stopped and were staring, paying particular attention to a couple at one of the tables. The male, dark-haired with tan skin and high cheekbones, leaned closer to whisper into the female's ear, delicately moving loose hair aside for easier access. She tipped her head to the sky as she laughed, carefree. This couple, these strangers, so open in their happiness and displays of affection loosened the careful hold you’d been maintaining on your emotions, and for a moment you felt as if you’d be washed away. Anger, guilt, and sadness all warred within you. It had been waging since you’d found Azriel and Elain together only yesterday. And underneath it all, a despair that would cripple you if given the chance.
A lone shadow, the one that had been racing ahead cleaving an inquisitive path through the street, danced into your eyeline. There once was a time when one straying so close to your face would cause you to instinctively flinch away in surprise. In the early days of your friendship, Azriel had kept them on a tight leash that had been exhausting to maintain out of fear of scaring you away. Now, after years of cohabitation, you’d grown used to their proclivities and peculiarities. Their cool brush was almost as familiar and comforting as the feeling of Azriel’s warm, scarred hands. It swirled in front of your face now, its movements jerky, verging on agitated, and though they couldn’t speak to you it was clear what they were trying to convey. You were going to be late.
Closing your eyes and taking a few deep, calming breaths you tried to force the emotion back. A hand moved on autopilot out of the depth of your pocket to slip between the buttons of your coat, fingertips resting on the swell of your midriff over warm wool. You could control this, you decided.
One summer night, childfree and enjoyed under the stars whilst sharing a bottle of wine, Feyre had shared the circumstances of her own pregnancy with you. How she’d made a seemingly impossible decision to you at the time, to carry on because she did not want her son to experience anything other than love whilst sequestered in her womb. Now you found yourself vowing the same, that your emotional turmoil would not impact the life growing inside of you.
Resolved, you turned away to continue your journey through the streets, guided by the shadow that weaved in between other pedestrians, just skirting their notice. After a few minutes, you came to a stop outside the warm and brightly lit shop. The medicinal smell of herbs leaked under the door and into the street. The shadow had already disappeared under the frame, scouting ahead for any sign of danger. It returned to you almost lazily, coiling up dark wood towards the handle of the door in invitation.
You clasped a hand over the knob, shadow dancing over your fingers as you pushed open the door. A bell tinkled above your head announcing the arrival of a customer. Dark-stained wood lined the floor of the shop, and a counter full of books and candles sat before massive shelves full of various jars and decanters.
“I would have come to you, child.” Madja’s form appeared in the doorframe to her examination room at the back of the shop.
“I know.” You bristled a little at her referring to you as such. “I had to get out of the house.” You eyed her warily, still not entirely comfortable around the high-fae female. Though you knew Feyre held no ill feelings towards her, you had been incredibly reluctant to allow her to be involved in the care of your pregnancy, citing her blatant disregard for Feyre’s body autonomy. It was only her experience with Illyrian babes that made you acquiesce.
“You’re alone.” It wasn’t a question. There was a marked note of disapproval in Madja’s tone. You had considered briefly asking Cassian to accompany you during breakfast. He’d shared Rhy’s plans for their visit to the Hewn City but had stressed that he would stay behind with you if necessary. But the idea of bringing anyone other than your mate here made you feel worse than the prospect of attending alone. So you’d lied to Cassian, told him you planned on relaxing and organising a few things in the baby’s room and that you didn’t want to bore him with that. He’d been quick to reassure you, but you’d pushed him to go, knowing that Rhys and Feyre relied on him for their games in court posturing.
Azriel had never missed an appointment. For every progress check, every measurement, every sweet cooling sweep of Madja’s magic across your abdomen he’d sat dutifully by your side, tracing gently patterns on the back of the hand he’d gripped in his own. Remembering the way his face lit up, the tears of joy that lined his hazel eyes as Madja informed you that the babe was healthy and your pregnancy was progressing well made the empty chasm in your chest ache.
“Not completely.” You gestured vaguely to the rogue shadow that had accosted you when you’d tried to leave the house this morning, now snaking between jars of brightly coloured poultices and dried ingredients lining the shelves.
She gestured for you to follow her into the room at the back, shutting the door behind you and your shadow companion. You began to shrug off your coat, hanging it on the hook by the door. The examination table creaked under your weight as you hoisted one leg on, wiggling yourself back until your back was flush against the rest. Madja’s wrinkled face was impassive as she watched you struggle. She lowered herself into the chair next to you, lifting the jumper to expose your abdomen. The room was heated with her magic, for which you were thankful.
“How are you feeling?” You kept your eyes on her hands as they moved over the swell of your stomach, skimming over the darker map of marks left by your skin stretching to accommodate. You loved and hated those lines.
“Just fatigued more than anything else.” Madja made a noise of agreement at the back of her throat. She didn’t ask a follow-up question, in the silence you found yourself offering up more information. “I’m hungry all the time. And my feet are so swollen it’s difficult to put on shoes.” The shadow had made its way onto the examination table next to you, it watched Madja’s hands as you did. It strayed closer to where your hands lay clasped, resting on the edge of your stomach just under your breasts. It perched there, half weaving between your fingers and half observing.
“And?” The feel of her magic wasn’t unpleasant, but the longer you stayed under her touch the more uncomfortable you became. Instinct urged you to get away from under her hands, as harmless as they seemed, to put more distance between her and the babe than just the thin layer of skin and organs. You clenched your teeth, on edge as the examination continued.
“And what?” You knew what she was probing for, to discuss Azriel.
“Your mate, girl. Don’t play stupid. I want to know how you’re handling the stress of this situation. I don’t need to tell you that it isn’t good for the babe.” Your eyes strayed from her hands for a moment, meeting brown before averting them again. You wanted to be anywhere but here. And you certainly didn’t want to be discussing this with the spindrift-haired fae.
“I’m fine.” She scoffed at that. Her hands finally stilled, pulling away from you. Tugging the jumper back down, you swung your legs around perching on the edge of the examination table. You picked at the nail of your thumb, anxiety starting to build.
“There are no medals for a brave face.”
“How are things?” She allowed the diversion. Her pause prompted you to finally look at her. Madja’s face remained impassive. Panic started to set in, its tight grip made it difficult for you to suck in your next breath. You and Azriel had known this pregnancy wouldn’t be without risk, but you’d thought the similarities of physique and bone density you shared with the Illyrians would shield you against major complications.
“You’re progressing well,” Madja said. “Only a few more weeks, I expect.” You released the breath you didn’t realize you were holding, relief flooding through you. It was short-lived as Madja opened her mouth to speak again.
“I am however concerned about you.”
“I’m fine.” Perhaps if you said it aloud enough you could make yourself believe it. It seemed that Madja wasn’t going to allow that though, incredulity written on her face.
“If that’s all you’re going to say girl, we’ll get nowhere.” You held your tongue against informing her to mind her own business, knowing that Rhys held a particular soft spot for the ancient fae and wouldn’t take kindly to you insulting her. “You’re…situation,” she paused briefly, feeling the fire developing in your gaze as she pushed. “The stress increases the risk of preterm labour.” You nodded, continuing to pick at your fingernail. “I know of healers, ones that specialise in the mind. I could-“
You cut her off before she could finish. “I don’t need a healer, I just need my mate,” voice breaking on the last word as traitorous tears brewed at the line of your lashes. Madja reached out a wrinkled hand to clasp your own, her skin warm above yours, her face sympathetic.
“It could help, acknowledging our emotions gives them less power over us.” The idea of explaining to a stranger the events of the past few days filled you with dread. The agony of watching Azriel collapse bleeding on the steps of the River House, of tugging on the bond only to find strands that led to nowhere as you had pleaded for him to wake up. Your mate, usually so strong and unyielding, seemed almost fragile as Rhys and Cassian had manhandled him into the House. Sitting at his bedside after, watching each breath he took as he slumbered, every shift of the babe inside you filled you with fresh grief. You’d told him everything, every mundane thought that passed through your head as you tried to distract yourself from the thought that Azriel may never wake up and meet his child.
And you’d been so tired, with the pregnancy and sitting dutifully at Azriel’s bedside, that when Elain had offered to relieve you to get some rest you’d felt grateful. You couldn’t have predicted what happened when he woke. The likelihood of him reacting favourably to someone he considered to be a stranger at his sick bed was absurd. Still the guilt gnawed at you; if you’d stayed perhaps things wouldn’t have turned out as disastrously as they had.  
“No.” You considered for a moment, before adding a thank you as an afterthought. Madja sighed, exasperated.
“Well, if you’re unwilling to do that then you must promise to take it easy. Bed rest, no magic.” The thought of languishing your time away in the house alone irked you, but it was more agreeable than the alternative. You inclined your head in agreement.  
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Azriel
The tension in the room was palpable, and Azriel couldn't decide which was worse: the fury etched across Rhys' face or the wounded hurt concealed beneath. A dark power coiled behind Rhys's desk, while Feyre's portrait watched from above, her eyes twinkling with mischief. In the hallowed confines of Rhys's study, Azriel couldn't help but be reminded of a similar, scolding conversation, one where Rhys had warned him to stay away from Elain.
"And if I catch you panting after her again," Rhys had said, "I'll make sure you regret it."
Now, once more, his brother was fuming over Azriel's dalliance with her. And as in the past, when faced with his brother's wrath, Azriel donned his well-practiced mask of ice, a facade carefully crafted in the darkness and shadows of his childhood.
Rhys' voice, as sharp as a blade, pierced the stillness of the room. "What in the world are you thinking?" Azriel felt a surge of cold rage in response, but Rhys remained unyielding. He had always understood the volatile undercurrent beneath Azriel's surface and was adept at meeting it with his own resolute strength.
"Madja ordered you to rest.” Rhys continued. “Not only did you defy her orders, but you also lied to me.” Azriel broke the eye contact he’d been holding, loathing himself for the deception. “I find you here, pestering Elain when she made it abundantly clear she wants nothing to do with you.”
"I had to," Azriel protested, his voice tinged with stubbornness.
Rhys sighed, gesturing around the room. "This," he said, encompassing Azriel, "all of it is temporary. We will find a way to heal you and restore your memories. In the meantime, if you could refrain from setting your life ablaze, it would be greatly appreciated."
Azriel's gaze hardened, his reluctance evident. "I can't just forget her, Rhys. You know I can't.”
Rhys paused for a moment; his eyes filled with compassion. Then, he played his last card. " Az, I understand how hard this is for you, but you also have responsibilities. You have a mate, one who carries your child. I can't stand by and watch you ruin things now, only to hate yourself later when you regain your memories.”
A whirlwind of conflicting emotions churned within Azriel. The burden of his forgotten memories weighed heavily on his shoulders, and it was a struggle to reconcile his past self with the man he had become. He couldn't help but feel a profound sense of loss for the memories that had been stolen from him. Loss of Elain, of the history they’d shared together. But the thought of having a mate he couldn’t recall, someone whom he so obviously shared a life with, was both a source of guilt and deep frustration. It was as though he had been robbed of a part of himself.
His thoughts swirled with questions and doubts about the nature of their relationship, about Elain. These questions gnawed at him, a relentless reminder he was living a life that he couldn’t recognise as his own, despite being surrounded by his family.
Azriel clenched his jaw, his reluctance growing stronger. “You're just going to leave your child without a father?" Rhys' voice was firm, and Azriel felt the weight of the responsibility.
"Of course not," Azriel replied, his tone strained.
"So you'll what, meet her during the birth? After the babe's born?" Rhys pressed.
Azriel hesitated before saying, "She's a stranger, Rhys. I can't just pretend everything is normal when I don't even know who she is."
The room remained shrouded in an oppressive silence, the unspoken weight of their conversation bearing down on them. Azriel's reluctance and frustration grappled with Rhys' unwavering insistence, and the seconds ticked by in limbo. It was then, amidst the heavy tension, that Rhys's voice broke the impasse.
"So meet her," Rhys said, his words soft yet unwavering.
Azriel blinked, taken aback by the simplicity of Rhys' suggestion. His eyes locked onto his brother's. "What?"
"Meet her," Rhys repeated with quiet determination. "And she won't be a stranger."
The clarity of Rhys' statement struck Azriel like a revelation. He had been so consumed by the paralyzing fear of the unknown and the torment of his stolen memories that he hadn't contemplated the possibility of forging new connections.
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adoregojo · 4 months
Text
he doesn't realise how lonely he is.
the birds nagging on the early morning was freaking annoying and made him wanted to block the window ten times more. he hated how his breakfast tasted, he added to much salt and now he keeps grimacing at every bite. the usual black stray cat on his doorstep keeps greeting him every morning, and all he could find to reply to it meowing was a frown. sunny days were nothing but a pain, the bright light hitting his face as if it was forcing him to like it. how vexing.
the difference shape of flowers peeking out from the next door store brings him nothing of a sense of joy, if anything he wanted to stay away from it due to it attracting the bugs. his coworkers never talk to him, not like he wants to talk to him. he never looked them in the eyes anyway.
he can clearly hear them, their whispers -that were too loud for him to hear- about him being likely an old grumpy grandpa in disguise, they even made bets on if he would smile one day. it didn't hurt him, he couldn't gave a good fuck for it, he just wanted this day to end so he could go home and never have to see anyone.
he doesn't take his shoes off when he's in the apartment, it was too much of a hassle and he doesn't get any visitors anyway. there's barely any food in his fridge, mostly leftovers. he just eats to survive another day. watching pointless tv shows that never truly entertained him, in fact he found them boring but as long as they kept him busy he didn't care.
winter was too cold, summer was too hot, autumn was stressful, and spring gets him a sick problems all the time.
he truly doesn't know where to enjoy anything in life.
well, until he met you.
all of a sudden, the birds melody doesn't sound so bad, so he opens the window for some fresh air. he stared to put afford in making breakfast, not his usual too slaty eggs it is now a fluffy pancakes with your guidance as you embraced him from behind. they weren't perfect, but the pleased noises you make after every bite made him proud. of course he doesn't forget to feed your cat, the same black cat that he claimed it was nothing but a bad luck.
he didn't realise of how much of a neighbours he had till he started coping how you greeted them, it was nice when they started sending you guys food. especially when you liked them and sometimes they'll send his favourite.
sunny days were welcomed now. especially when the bright light would hit on your skin causing a reflection that's making you a walking glowing star. maybe he liked the sun a bit now.
he made progress on talking back to him coworkers, instead of the silent treatment he actually looked at them knowledge them. he actually started looking at them when they speak to him because you told him it was rude not to. soon he was invited to lunch with them where he would show off his bento box you made for him, he was glad the whispers disappeared. he didn't get how much it bothered him till now.
the owner of the flower shop who was an old lady was now a common person he had to see every week, she remarked he was her most loyal client. he received a tones of advice and recommended flowers as well pinching his cheek as a farewell message. needless to say he always tried coming home -he stopped calling it an apartment- to you without an empty hand, having your favourite pair of flowers was a must now. as well taking off his shoes and putting it directly next to yours, this was it right place.
rethinking it now, winter may be still cold but at least he got the scarf you got for him warped up to his neck, if he buried his nose in the soft fur he could smell your cologne -a reason why it was his favourite one- summer was perfect for you two picnic dates, and every time he could kneel down and thank the sun for making you so blazing and sparkly.
autumn was where you would count the crunchy golden leaves, you sometimes warped yourself around it as if it was snow. it was his favourite memory since it made his heart beating fast. and in the end you were his spring, where his love would bloom for you again and again.
restaurants weren't a waste of money and time now. he has a prefers show and it was the one that made you laugh until the tears formed in your eyes, he honestly doesn't find them as funny but it makes you smile so he didn't care.
life stopped being meaningless afterwards, and he could finally say that he enjoyed living as long as it was beside you.
nagi, rin, sae, toji, choso, ushijima, kenma, diluc. kei, sakusa. you favs!
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babyleostuff · 8 months
Text
my favourite person | joshua hong
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prompt | i'm not a lot of people's favourite person
word count | 1.3k
genre | angst & (mostly) fluff
author's note | ugh i haven't written a longer fic like this in a while, i've missed this
Joshua was that type of person who never wanted to bother you with his own problems. He cherished you and your happiness way too much, so what would be the point in sharing his own worries with you?
He was a big boy, he could take care of himself, no matter how much he wanted to find peace and comfort in your arms.
You knew something was wrong, despite him insisting he was fine. You knew him like the back of your hand and something has been clearly bothering him.
His bright smile was gone and even if he did smile, it didn’t reach his eyes, like it usually did. He didn’t share any funny stories from the practice room, he went to bed without giving you your mandatory good night kiss and you woke up to his side of the bed cold and empty.
“Joshua, you really have to tell me if anything is bothering you,” you said and squeezed his arm. “I’m here for you.”
But the only response you got was a small smile and a “I’m fine darling. Don’t worry about me,” which didn’t make the case any better.
You decided to let it go and wait for him to come around. Especially, because he had a company dinner soon, which you hoped would cheer him up a bit.
Perhaps a talk with Jeonghan or Seungcheol wouldn’t hurt as well.
Leaving with a quiet goodbye and a kiss to your forehead (like he always did before leaving), made you hopeful you were slowly getting your Shua back.
Some of the boys posted a couple of pictures of them together, before the party even began and Joshua was in every single one of them.
He seemed fairly happy, but you knew very well he could have been pretending.
Nonetheless, you decided to put your phone away, there was no point in dwelling on whether he was fine or not.
He wouldn’t be coming back to your apartment tonight anyways, he never did after big parties. He was always afraid that he’d make too much noise and wake you up, so he always went back to his own place after a night of drinking.
Settling down for the night, you unawarely stroked the pillow on your boyfriend’s side, where his head would usually be. He had never told you this, but his heart always skips anytime you run your fingers through his hair, as a warm feeling settles in his tummy.
He was always convinced that love was an emotion that he’d never be able to describe, but the genuine care in your eyes and the happiness in your smile could make him talk about love for hours.
“Fuck.”
You tiredly rubbed your eyes with your (Joshua’s) sweatshirt, trying to pick up where the sounds were coming from, while still being half asleep.
You stumbled out of bed, not so gently running into your dresser, while trying not to freak out over a thief who's probably robbing your apartment right now.
Finally, reaching the kitchen, you exhaled in relief as you saw that it was only your boyfriend, trying to take off his shoes.
But then you realised something. Why was he here? And then you realised something else.
He was definitely not sober.
Seeing your boyfriend drunk was nothing new, but seeing him wasted was something you thought you’d never get to see.
“Honey, are you okay?” you asked, quickly grabbing his hand to get his attention. You couldn't help thinking that something bad had happened, as his eyes were wide and he seemed almost… scared?
Shaking his head, he clumsily grabbed your other hand, putting them on his cheeks.
For a second you thought about calling Jeonghan. You’ve never seen your boyfriend in such a miserable state before and it was scaring you. The light in his eyes was gone and his beautiful face showed nothing but pain.
Nothing about this was good, but the worst was that you still had no idea what had happened.
As you got lost in your own thoughts, you felt something wet hitting your fingertips and that was when you realised Joshua was crying.
“Oh baby,” you whispered, as he collapsed into your arms. His sobs echoed through your quiet apartment, while his shoulder shook with every breath he took.
He held tightly onto you, almost as you were his lifeline - the only thing keeping him alive. Your own heart was breaking with every cry that he let out, the sound shattering any ounce of hope that you had that he’d be all right.
You lowered both of you to the ground, so you could sit in the dark curridor, illuminated only by the moonlight coming through the window.
Taking a shaky inhale, he put his head on your lap, while you gently stroked his head and placed small kisses on his forehead, to let him know that you were there with him.
“I’m not a lot of people’s favourite person.”
The not so comforting silence of your apartment was finally broken by your boyfriend, who seemed to have calmed down, even though he still struggled to take a deep breath.
“What did you say honey?” you said quietly, brushing his hair away from his face.
“I think I’m not a lot of people’s favourite person,” he repeated, slowly pushing himself up to seating.
You looked at his tired expression, wanting nothing more to take all of his burdens away from him.
He was usually very good at avoiding the hate he got online, but from time to time, it could really get to him. It was unavoidable, you both knew that, but sometimes he wanted nothing more but to talk to his fans and have a good time with them.
But because a lot of people want to harm him, his reputation and his feelings, it wasn’t easy to manoeuvre between the good and the bad comments.
It seemed like this time he stumbled upon some really nasty shit.
“Why do you say that? Where did it come from?” you asked rhetorically, voice laced with concern.
He didn’t respond, only put his head on your shoulder, putting all of his weight onto you.
Not wanting to dig deeper, you put your arms tightly around his shoulders, and placed one of your hands on his tear stained cheek.
“You know,” you muttered so as not to startle him. “You might not be a lot of people’s favourite person, but you’re definitely my favourite person,” you kissed the side of his head, as you felt more tears rolling down his cheek.
“I have no idea how you’re feeling right now, nor will I ever get to experience what you’re experiencing, but I want you to know that despite all those horrible people that want to cause nothing more but pain, there are thousands of people who love you and cherish you.”
“Take a look around you. You have me, you have your brothers and you have your true fans that want you to be happy,” you whispered into his hair.
“I think that’s more than enough,” he said quietly, lifting his head to look at you.
His eyes were red, but to you they were the happiest they’ve been in a while. Even the corners of his lips were slightly turned upwards, to which you couldn’t help but smile.
“You cannot make everyone happy, Shua. There are going to be people that’ll want to hurt you, but remember that you’re always surrounded by people that love you,” you said.
He turned away to wipe his wet cheeks, feeling slightly embarrassed about his emotional outburst.
Usually, he’d go to his own apartment and cry himself to sleep, but tonight something made him come back home to you.
“Joshua,” you put your hand on his shoulder. “Next time, please talk to me before it gets that bad. I know that you don’t want to burden me with your worries, but I can't stand seeing you like this.”
“I love you so much, and I want us to go through the good and the bad together.”
He nodded and took your hand in his.
“Together.”
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sinsirellaxx · 1 month
Note
Hello! If you don’t do NSFW requests feel free to ignore or delete my ask, but I was wondering if you could do Toxic Slytherin Boys NSFW hcs?
Slytherin Boys – NSFW Headcanons
Warning: Toxic boys! NSFW topics
A/N: I won't be able to post as much – just wanted to let you know! Also: I'm currently not accepting new requests because I still have a few to work on. 😊
Have fun reading!
Mattheo …
… told you he couldn’t be in a relationship without sex. If you’re alright with that – no problem. If you aren’t (bc of religion or whatever) he’d be frustrated. He’ first try and guilt you into sleeping with him and if that doesn’t work, he’ll threaten to break it off with you.
… “I’ll marry you anyway, so what’s the deal?”
… would want to be intimate with you all the time. Doesn’t matter if he’s angry and he needs to let off some steam, if he’s just horny or whenever he needs reassurance or is jealous.
… wouldn’t be gentle. Not even during your first time – because he’d just not be as sensible.
… prefers to be on top with you bent over – likes the control and power he has over you.
… will immediately question your loyalty if you deny him the pleasures of your body.
… “You’re my girlfriend. If not you – who else will take care of my needs?”
Theodore …
… is a wild card: can be either crazy rough or intimidatingly sensual and soft. It depends on his mood.
… wants you to go down on him but he refuses to do the same.
… places your hand on his crotch whenever you are alone.
… does not really care if you aren’t in the mood – he’ll start kissing and caressing you either way.
… wants you to use birth control because he doesn’t want to wrap it “It feels weird around my dick”.
… loves having you on top, whenever he feels lazy. He’ll lean back against his propped-up pillows and enjoy you squirm on his lap.
Lorenzo …
… will persuade you to do things you don’t feel comfortable with.
… will want to try out different and maybe more daring things.
… will only eat you out if you blow him first “You have to earn it, baby.”
… loves leaving marks in visible places – even better if you don’t notice them until someone points them out.
… smirks whenever you open your legs for him.
… wants you to dress up in pretty lingerie for him.
… will fuck you while his roommates are sleeping – without the muffliato charm – he wants to be heard.
… “Shh, baby – it’s okay. My roommates won’t hear.”
Draco …
… acts like his dick is magical.
… cannot get you to peak but will act like you did have the best orgasm ever.
… rolls his eyes whenever you say it hurts but will still wait for you to adjust – until he gets too impatient.
… is mostly lazy, so he’ll want you to ride him most of the time.
… refuses to kiss you after you suck him off.
Blaise …
… every ‘date’ ends in sex.
… only ever calls you first because he wants to have sex.
… is not that much into foreplay – he’s more of a dip it and leave it kind of guy.
… randomly pulls you into empty rooms to push you onto your knees.
… “Show me how much you love me”
Tom …
… uses sex to relax after a long day.
… he also won’t go down on you but will expect you to worship his body. “You’re lucky I want you.”
… always degrades you and makes you believe that he is the best man you could ever have and that you are below him.
… never ‘hears’ the safe word whenever you use it “I didn’t hear you, doll. Be louder next time.”
… secretly loves when you’re bratty because that means he can put you in your place.
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desi2go · 2 days
Text
Importance
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pairings: dad!Chan x mom!reader
warnings: angst, fluff
summary: Having a child with an idol isn't easy...
author's note: I'm sorry that I couldn't post anything the last two weeks. But here I am with a new one!
Marriage wasn't easy. Especially when your beloved husband was an idol. The Bang Chan, leader of Stray Kids.
Between tours and busy schedules, there was little time for your relationship. But even though it was hard and you missed him like hell when he was gone for a long time, you still didn't regret to come to your best friend Changbin's party years ago. There, you had met him.
Well, he didn't see you and accidentally poured his drink over you. When your eyes met, he was fascinated by your breathtaking beauty. Maybe it was destiny back then. It felt surreal, like he was your soulmate. The missing piece in in your heart and life.
Apologetic, he bought you a drink and after a wonderful night together, asked for your number.
Soon, he took you out on a date and there followed a second and a third, becoming a huge part in your life.
Without noticing, time passed and Chan proposed to you.
You immediately said yes and became Mrs. Bang.
The second you were married, your family asked when you both would begin to try for a baby but Chan and you wanted to wait some time before thinking about an addition to your family.
You still were young and Stray kids took much time and you understood that. Your job was also one of your top priorities and wanted to earn more money.
But it seemed that the universe had other plans with you two. Seven months after the wedding you started feeling sick. At first you brushed it off and thought that it is just a stomach bug or the stress due to work.
As the lovely but overly concerned husband that he is, Chan took you too a doctor to get a check up. Even though you found it a little bit overdramatic, he still insisted and the reason why you felt nauseous was soon found. You were indeed pregnant and already two months into pregnancy.
Sure, it wasn't planned but you and Chan felt excited to have a small addition to the family. And sooner or later it would have happend anyways.
Chan promised that when the pregnancy was farther along, he would take some time off and help you. You agreed to that and decided to work some more months too before you need to go into maternity leave.
The months passed fast and soon, you welcomed your newest family member. A girl. A sweet girl with already some black locks on her head and the same brown eyes that you fell in love with.
Chan was over the moon. Even though during labour, he was terrified. Would he be a good dad? But all these thoughts washed away when he saw the beautiful angel you both had created with your undying love.
He was the first one to hold her as her crying filled the room. Exhausted, you observed the picture in front of you. Your husband with his precious daughter that already looked like a smaller copy of him.
He was told to undress his shirt and to lay the little bundle of joy against his bare chest to help her breath and keeping her warmth while the doctor checked on you because you had lost a lot of blood during birth.
The first weeks were exhausting. Your little girl, Nari, held both of you awake most of the night. Yourself needed to heal and time to recover from the labor, so you relied mostly on your husband who took such good care for his girl. Fortunately, he got some weeks off to settle into parenthood before going back to the boys even though they nearly saw each other every day.
Since you got home from the hospital, four days after birth, they visited you to meet their 'little sister' as they called Nari. Oh lord, they were so smitten. The only one that seems not so sure about that little human was Seungmin but when he thought that nobody would watch, you catched him drawing circles over Nari's hands, smiling when she wrapped her hand around one of his fingers.
When Chan went back, the house was suddenly so empty. After weeks of being together 24/7, the sudden quiet was unfamiliar. In the mornings, Chan was already out, you loved to lay on the couch, your daughter on your chest, snuggling close to you while sleeping.
When Chan came back home in the evening, he greeted you with a kiss and immediately ran off to his daughter to tell her about his day even though she was already sleeping. You loved to observe him while cooking. You loved this little family. It was something that you ever wanted.
You really loved Nari. But after the pregnancy and early motherhood, you needed some space for yourself. You would love to spend an evening with your girls. Just making yourself look pretty and have fun without watching over a child.
Especially since you almost never leave the house except for some stroller walks and buying errands.
You asked your husband if he comes home some hours earlier so that you could enjoy your night. Immediately, he agreed and you were so grateful that he understood you.
On that day, you took your time with getting ready while your daughter slept. You hoped that Chan would be home soon so that you would be on time since you hated being late.
Minutes passed as you sat on the couch waiting for him. Minutes turned into half an hour and you wrote your girls that you would run a little late today. They were understanding.
More minutes passed and you waited already for a whole hour. You tried to call him since he was always so focused on his work so that he sometimes forgets the time.
He didn't pick up and you were already half an hour late. Your girls were already seated in your restaurant, waiting for you to show up so that they could start ordering food.
Sighing, you texted then that you couldn't make it and they shouldn't wait up on you. Frustrated, you cleared your face from the make up that was hours worth of work.
You took off the new dress that you had bought. You were so excited to wear it because it made you feel so pretty again after the pregnancy made you look bloated and your belly was still not the same then before.
You didn't know if you felt rage, sadness or disappointment that you needed to stay home because of your husband.
It wouldn't be so bad if it was the first time after he got back to work. He used to come back at a normal time to have some time with you and the baby. But as the weeks passed, he stayed later and got up earlier so that you saw him just for some minutes per day.
It was like you were all on your own here in your home. You knew from the beginning that Stray kids was really important to him but after entering parenthood you had hoped that he wouldn't stay till past midnight in the company.
You heard the key unlocking the front door and your husband finally decided to come home after he had promised you that he would be here three hours ago. He greeted you with a small peck on the forehead as you waited for him in the living room.
He looked so calm while dropping his bag to the ground and sitting down on the couch.
"Why are you standing there honey?" He asked. You crossed your arms. He didn't even remembered that this was supposed to be your night out.
"Why are you so late?" You tried to remain calm since your daughter slept in the neighbouring room.
"I was working on the newest song for stray kids" he explained.
"Oh really? Because you said you would be here hours ago" you didn't want to pick a fight. You hated fighting with him. It made your heart clench but this night was important to you.
"I'm sorry honey. But I needed to get it done"
"Well, I had plans for the night, Chan."
"Really? I'm sorry honey. I forgot and this song was important"
"The song was important? My reservation with the girls was important to me" you said and couldn't hold the calm tone that you wanted.
"I already said I'm sorry, Y/n. I got caught up in work" He grew annoyed.
"Like always. You're always so late that I wonder if you even remember that you have a family at home" You knew you were mean and unfair but all these things were twirling around your head for days.
"Of course I remember! I'm sorry that I make money for us" he exclaimed sarcastically. His voice loud, nearly shouting.
These words hurt you. He knew damn well that you aren't dependent on his money and that you make good money as well. Even though you currently took a maternity leave.
"Fuck you, Chan. You aren't the only one working. I was asking you for just one thing. Just being home a little earlier so that I could have some time for myself." You said loudly, your voice cracking in the middle as some tears stung in your eyes.
"Y/n. I-" he tried but you stopped him.
"Nari is your child too. Currently, I'm the only one she sees whether it's in the morning or in the evening. And I'm tired. Tired of being the only one raising her."
You heard cries from the other room. You must have woken up your sleeping daughter. Sighing, you excited the room and headed to Nari without waiting for an answer.
Chan knew that he went too far and that he was more away than home. And it pained him to not spend so much time with his daughter. Slowly he followed you to your daughter's room.
It was dimly lit and you sat in the rocking chair next to her crib with Nari in your arms, rocking her. He hated seeing her in distress and guilt crept up. He was a terrible father and an even more terrible husband.
You felt Chan's hot gaze on you. You knew that the guilt ate him alive right now. He couldn't fool you. Therefore you knew him too well.
After placing Nari back into her crib, giving her a light kiss on her soft skin that smelled so sweet like a baby. Your baby.
Then, you took Chan's hand and lead you outside to the kitchen, farther away from your daughter.
He just followed you, deep in thoughts.
"Y/n, I'm so sorry. I should have come early. And I know that parenting a child alone is difficult. I didn't want to lash out on you like that. I know that the meeting with your friends was important to you" he said and caressed your hand.
"I'm sorry too. It's obvious that you try to be around Nari as long and often as you can."
"No, you were right. I need to be here more. Especially with you both. I shouldn't let work take over so much" he said and pulled you into his arms.
His arms circled around your waist while yours travelled upwards into his fluffy locks. Exhausted he let his head fall on your shoulder, all the tension leaving his body.
"I love you Chan" you whispered.
"I love you too. You and Nari are the most important things in my life"
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