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#neverending heights
musi-creatively · 2 years
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Dana chatted with Rita openly. Retirement was going good, but they had a lot to catch up on.
Rita put down her water. "You ever wonder why I actually changed sides?"
"To redeem yourself? Wash away those 'sins of the father'?"
Rita laughed. "No."
"Then why?" Dana leaned back.
"Because I saw something in your team. Something I was barely starting to have."
"What's that?"
"Respect and kindness... Sure, I had a little bit from my boyfriend, but you all!" She gestured to the photo on the TV stand. "I was more jealous than I thought I'd ever admit."
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Small thing due to some musings, but character development. Set in the future after Dana retires and Eagle Eye takes over leadership of the team.
@givethispromptatry cause I used the majority of this dialog as a prompt submission
@sebsterianart
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YiZhan Height Wars
Possibly the most adorable thing you’ll see all day
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aprilblossomgirl · 8 months
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currently watching and immediately obsessed with moving i wished i started this as soon as it started airing
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galaxy-mermaid-musi · 2 years
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Snapped (part 2!)
Told you I'd get around to it. @creweemmaeec11 @undeadnotunreasonable
@givethispromptatry @sebsterianart @holygoddessofvictory
Powers: Electricity generation/control and Control of one's personal gravity
Part 1 , Part 3
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Voltage was a lot of things: tactical, efficient, determined, and at this very second.... being chased by destiny.
Not destiny in a literal sense, of course.
No xe was being chased across the rooftops once again by a hero, xir nemesis, xir crush. Stellaris.
"You must be tired tonight, starlight!" Xe teased, "You're taking longer to catch up!"
The dust around Stellaris swirled faster as they laughed and sped up. "I was just giving you a head start!"
It wasn't their real voice, xe knew. The bottom half of their mask acted as a voice modulator. Another mystery to uncover.
Voltage dropped onto a fire escape, electrifying the railing a little.
Stellaris followed, jumping when the shock hit them. "Hey! You said you weren't gonna fry the locals!"
"Oh please, It's the same amount as regular static!" Xe smiled from the ground, "Though if you're seeing sparks fly, I can tell you why~."
They rolled their eyes and jumped off, making themself lighter right before they'd hit the ground. "Only in your dreams, charger."
"Ah yes. In my dreams, where you take off that ridiculous mask of yours so I can see you."
"I mean if you take off your equally ridiculous helmet maybe you'd be able to see that won't happen!"
It was always like this. The back and forth, the chase, the adrenaline. Voltage lived for every moment.
And seeing how agile Stellaris was again didn't hurt either.
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greenhillguy · 3 months
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tag drop ✌️
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serpentandlily · 6 months
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Untouchable VI - Azriel x Reader
Untouchable - Azriel x Rhysand'sSister!Reader
Summary: For as long as you can remember, you have always had feelings for Azriel, your court’s spymaster. But after centuries of watching him pine after your own cousin, hoping he’d eventually move on, your wish came true. He moved on—with Elain, your brother’s mate’s sister. Unable to watch him fall in love with someone else again, you flee from Velaris, from him. But things are a lot more complicated than that—more complicated than you ever imagined.
Warnings: Smut (minors dni pls), angst 
a/n: Once again, thank you for all the love you've given me on this series!! Your comments seriously make my day! Hope you enjoy this one! I think there will be maybe 9-10 parts total for this story, maybe 8 but we'll see. Thanks for reading! <3
➻❥ Part I ➻❥ Part II ➻❥ Part III ➻❥ Part IV ➻❥ Part V
➻❥ Part VI ➻❥ Part VII ➻❥ Part VIII ➻❥ Part IX ➻❥ Part X
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Part VI
─── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ───
You weren’t sure how long the two of you stayed like that—knelt on the hardwood floor, staring at each other. Azriel’s eyes were filled with such longing, it seemed like he was trying to will the mating bond to snap between the two of you, to free you both from the torture of his bargain. But…
Nothing.
A small tear escaped from the corner of your eye. All this time you had both longed for each other. Desired, craved, hungered after each other. And it had been your own brother standing in the way, creating the rift between the two of you. 
One of Azriel’s shadows swirled away from him, a small tendril of darkness, and brushed against the side of your cheek, wiping your tears away. You smiled sadly at the cool touch of his shadows, imagining it was his own hand instead. 
Another tendril brushed against your arm in a soothing motion.
You watched them for a moment, swirling around your skin. When you looked back up at Azriel something in his gaze had shifted. 
He stood finally, holding out a hand to help you from the floor. You raised your eyebrows in question as he stared down at you with an intensity that had your cheeks turning pink again. 
The stray shadow brushed against your cheek again, then down your jaw to your throat. You shivered at the feeling and Azriel’s gaze darkened, a new hunger in them that had the butterflies in your stomach returning. 
Azriel stepped closer and wrapped a piece of your hair around his finger. “I just realized something.”
“What is it?” you breathed out.
His face was half lit by the faelights as he stared down at you, still playing with your strand of hair. 
“I might not be able to touch you,” he whispered. “But my shadows can.”
“Huh? What do—”
Azriel hushed you, turning you around to face the mirror on your vanity instead. You stared at him through the mirror in question, but his eyes were roaming your body instead. 
He brushed your hair over to one shoulder and pressed a soft, gentle kiss to the now exposed skin before standing up to his full height, making you feel so small in comparison. 
His eyes met your own and your heart jumped in your chest. Azriel’s hand ghosted up your arm, hovering over your shoulder as he stared at you intently as he ran a finger under the thin strap of your nightgown. Your skin prickled under his touch.
His pupils were blown-out, his once hazel eyes now almost black, as he stared at you with a look that had your thighs clenching together.
Your breath hitched as he began to push down the strap of your nightgown.
"A-Azriel?" 
You tilted your head back to look at him but he grabbed your chin with his other hand and directed your attention back to the mirror. 
"Watch," he commanded, his voice dangerously low. 
It was a thrilling sight, the two of you together. The dimmed faelights in the room bounced off his brown skin, turning him golden and made your violet eyes glow. 
He was the neverending night, the shadow always lurking even during the day, the embodiment of the dark side of the moon. And you were his night-blooming flower, made for his gaze. 
A shiver ran through you as the strap fell down your arm. The other one followed not even a second later. The silk of your nightgown brushed against the pebbled tips of your breasts before it pooled on the ground, leaving you nearly bare in front of the shadowsinger. 
Azriel let out an inhuman growl at the sight of your breasts, his hands fisting at his sides as you watched him restrain himself from touching you. Heat was pooling in your core. You needed him to touch you, needed some relief from the pounding inside of you that begged for him. 
Azriel's shadows cascaded over your shoulders, one swirling away to brush against your jaw, as the others made a path to your bare breasts. Your breath hitched, your back arched, as they lightly brushed against your skin, twirling around each nipple.
You gasped as some broke away to travel down your stomach, to circle around your thighs. The shadows applied more pressure to your breasts and you bit your lip, closing your eyes as you tried to imagine Azriel touching you instead.
Azriel's hand wrapped around your waist, laying flat against your stomach as he yanked you back into his hard chest. You could feel his arousal pressing against your ass causing your heart to spike.
"I told you to watch, Princess,” he purred into your ear.
You whimpered, your eyes flying open to stare at him through the mirror before they lowered to your own body, watching as his shadows spun around you, touching you in the places he had been forbidden to.
A stray shadow stroked against your clothed center, drawing a moan from your lips. Your legs were shaking now, goosebumps covering your skin. You couldn't help but rub against his hardened length, whimpering again.
Azriel let out a grunt that sounded like a mixture of both pleasure and pain, his fingers digging into the skin on your stomach. His hand slipped down to finger the waistband of your lace underwear. He made eye contact with you again. You bit your lip and nodded, knowing what he was asking.
He slowly began to push your underwear down your thighs until it fell to the floor along with your nightgown, leaving you completely naked in front of him. Azriel groaned at the sight.
“Gods, you are so beautiful,” he murmured. Your cheeks heated as he hungrily soaked in the sight of your naked body, feeling vulnerable being so bare in front of him while he was still clothed. 
His shadows swooped in the moment you were unclothed, their cool touch sending fire roaring through your veins. Your chest was heaving up and down with your heavy breaths, the butterflies in your stomach going wild. 
"Azriel," you begged. "Please."
You weren't even sure what you were begging for. But gods, you needed him. Needing him to do something about the ache between your legs, the burning hot desire coursing through you. 
“Please what, Princess?”
His voice made another shiver run through your body. So dark and sensual, just like the shadows roaming over your entire body. 
Tendrils of his shadows crawled up your legs, brushing against your pulsing core and causing you to gasp as a wave of pleasure hit you. 
“I need…” Another gasp as his shadow brushed against your clit. “Gods, Azriel, I need…”
You couldn’t even put it into words, your mind empty because of the pulsating feeling creeping inside of you. 
Azriel’s fingers ghosted over your cheek. “I know, princess.”
You moaned as his shadows continued their assault, stroking your core, circling around that sweet bundle of nerves. You trembled beneath their touch. 
He pressed another kiss to your bare shoulder before lifting you into his arms and taking you to the bed. He laid you down gently, so softly as if you were the most precious thing in the world to him. 
He stood at the end of the bed, his eyes raking in the sight of you flushed with pleasure and laid bare before him. “Gods, what I wouldn’t give to touch you right now,” Azriel mumbled.
You wished more than anything that he could. You needed him. 
More shadows cascaded down his body and fluttered to you, encasing you in swirls of darkness. Your arms were yanked above your head, your wrists pinned down to the mattress by his shadows. You whimpered as his shadows swept over your breasts again, your stomach, your thighs. 
Azriel reached forward to spread your legs apart, a groan leaving his lips at the sight of your glistening center. His hands left you far too quickly and you bit your lip, staring at him. His wings were spread wide, his hair tousled against his forehead, his gaze dark. He was straining against his pants, his own hand palming his dick to ease the pressure. 
His shadows skimmed your thighs and hip bones until they met together at your core, stroking against your clit and your entrance. You writhed, still encased by his other shadows, and mewled at the touch of his shadow hands. 
“Fuck, Princess,” Azriel growled as he watched the shadows he controlled continue their assault on you. He quickly undid the ties to his pants, pushing them down and pulling his dick free and standing between your legs. He stroked himself as he watched his shadows ravish your body.
Your eyes rolled to the back of your head at the sight of how large he was, at the image in your mind of him fucking you. 
“Keep your eyes open,” Azriel ordered, his voice filled with a dominance that only further increased the fire inside of you. “I want you to look at me while I make you cry.” 
Your eyes shot open, meeting his feral gaze. You groaned at the sight of him touching himself to the image of his shadows ravaging your body. The pleasure was almost unbearable and you could feel your orgasm building quickly as his shadows swirled around your clit, teased your entrance, over and over again. 
“Faster,” he commanded his shadows, who were all too happy to oblige, as he fisted his cock. 
Your eyes trailed over Azriel, over his beautiful, devastating face, the muscles in his arms clenching as he stroked himself, his huge wings twitching. He looked like a fallen angel standing before you as he used his shadows to push you further and further to the edge.
“You couldn’t even imagine the things I wish to do to you, Princess,” he groaned as you continued to wither on the bed, moaning in a pool of his shadows. “How I would ruin you, make you forget your own name.”
“Azriel,” you mewled. “Please, I…don’t stop.” 
You arched off the bed. Your skin was on fire. Each stroke of his shadows over your breasts, thighs, down your center, around your clit. It was too much. You were falling. 
“Fuck. That’s it, Princess,” he grunted, his own hand moving faster. “Let my shadows make you come for me.” 
His words pushed you over the edge, your vision nearly going white, as wave after wave of pleasure crashed through your body. You mumbled his name over and over again as lightning shot through your body. Your back arched off the bed, your arms strained against the shadows holding you down.
And then you went limp, panting as you came down from your high. Azriel was cursing under his breath, stroking himself faster and faster, his gaze on your dripping core. You sat up, still breathing heavily. You wanted nothing more than to touch him, to make him come. But you couldn’t. Not without causing him pain.
But you had your own arsenal of powers, you realized.
“Close your eyes, Azriel,” you purred. He met your gaze, the absolute longing in his eyes caused your heart to ache. He did as you said and you closed your own, stroking a claw made of darkness against his mental barrier.
He let you in without hesitation. 
You couldn’t touch him in the real world. But here, through the connection in your minds…
You painted him a beautiful picture of you on your knees before him, staring up at him through your lashes as he continued to stroke himself. You licked your lips before replacing his hands with your own. He let out a loud groan, causing you to smile.
You slowly leaned forward until your lips brushed against his tip. You stuck your tongue out, swirling around the head of his dick. He cursed at the image you were putting in his head, his hand moving faster and faster.
You opened your mouth and took him in as far as you could, gagging as his tip touched the back of his throat. You started to bob your head, still looking at him through your lashes as you sucked him off. You showed him gripping your hair with his hands and pushing your head to meet his thrusts, fucking your face, as tears pooled in your eyes. 
He had already been so turned on watching his shadows destroy you that he knew he wouldn’t last long. 
Just as you felt him drawing closer and closer to the edge, his moans increasing, his thrusts becoming sloppy with no rhythm, you left his mind. His eyes shot open and he cursed at the sight of you kneeling on the bed before him.
He released an unholy moan, chanting your name, as he came. His hot seed shot all over your chest, marking you with his essence. 
You watched him ride out his orgasm until his hands slowed down and fell limp at his sides. You magicked yourself clean before rising. Azriel let out another curse, still panting, as he rested his forehead against yours. 
You both were silent for a moment, soaking in the tender aftermath of what had undoubtedly changed the relationship between the two of you forever. 
“The things I wish to do to you right now, Princess” he grunted, chest still heaving. “If…if only I could touch you.”
“I will find a way to break this bargain, Azriel,” you breathed out. “I will. This can’t be it for us. I..I refuse.” 
You would read every single book in the library under the house of wind if you had to. The King of Hybern had been able to break your brother’s bargain with Feyre. There had to be other instances of bargains being broken. 
“We can’t… we can’t tell your brother about this,” Azriel muttered. “If he were to find out, he’d send me away from you.” 
You wanted nothing more than to march to your brother’s office and rip him a new one. But that still wouldn’t break the bargain. And depending on how irrational Rhys was, it might just make things worse. Azriel was right, he might send him away. 
“We keep it a secret for now,” you agreed. “No one has to know.”
“I’m…I’m so sorry,” Azriel mumbled. “I should’ve never done this to us.”
“It’s not your fault, Azriel. How could you have known?”
“I should’ve known. Even then, my feelings towards you were so consuming. I should’ve known they’d never go away. I don’t care if we’re not mates. I love you. I always have and I always will, even if we cannot be together. Even if I must go the rest of my life without laying a single hand on you.” 
Your heart broke at his declaration and confession. You sighed, closing your eyes. 
“I love you too, Azriel. We’ll figure this out. I promise.” 
He nodded, finally pulling away but you reached for his hand. “Stay, please?”
“Always,” he murmured back.
─── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ───
Prince Cedric pulled you aside the next morning after breakfast as his servants were gathering your luggage. He had asked for a quick moment alone and despite Azriel’s disagreement, you sent him away. Still he stayed within eyesight. 
“So, I’m sure your brother has informed you of my true intentions towards you, Princess,” Cedric said with a soft smile on his face. 
“He has,” you answered, quietly. You had been dreading this moment since you came. 
“Have you made a decision yet?”
You genuinely felt bad for the Prince. He had been nothing but kind to you since you had known him. Had treated you well your entire stay. But none of it was ever going to matter. Your heart laid with Azriel and Azriel alone.
“Prince Cedric,” you started, then paused trying to find a way to word your answer politely. “I do appreciate how kind you have treated me these last few days but you must understand, it is a big decision to make. To leave my family and live so far away—”
“It’s okay, Princess. You don’t need to make any excuses. I’m not blind nor dumb. Just perhaps a tad bit too hopeful.”
“What—”
“It’s the shadowsinger, right?” he said with a sad smile. “He’s the one who’s truly won over your heart, hasn’t he?”
You stumbled over your words, eyes widening. Had it been so obvious? You had tried very hard this morning to scrub yourself clean of his scent. 
“It’s okay,” he continued quickly, raising his hands in surrender. “Your secret is safe with me though I do feel a bit of jealousy towards him, I must admit. You would’ve made a beautiful queen.”
“Cedric, I-I don’t want you to think I’ve led you on. I did want to get to know you, to see if we had a connection. But—”
“But the heart wants what the heart wants. I understand, y/n. I would not want to take a wife who longs for another anyway.”
You bowed your head, still feeling a bit guilty.
“I did truly enjoy my time here, Cedric. I will look back on it fondly, despite how it turned out.”
“Me too, Princess,” he replied with a smile. “My castle doors will always be open for you, even as a friend.”
“Thank you, Cedric,” you smiled. “I hope you will still consider an alliance with my brother.”
“I will be in touch,” he confirmed with a nod of his head.
You said your goodbyes after that before it was finally time to return home, back to the Night Court.
─── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ───
A few weeks went by. You scourged the library for any books that talked about bargains and bonds, exhausting yourself with your research. Azriel helped when he could, though he wasn’t always around, so as to not draw attention to what the two of you were doing.
You couldn’t help but give your brother a bit of a cold shoulder. You felt betrayed by him. You had always known he was protective, but this had crossed the line. You spent more nights at the Moonstone Palace, claiming you had work to do regarding the Court of Nightmares, which wasn’t entirely a lie.
It made being with Azriel easier. Each night he snuck into your room and left before the sun came up, just in case anyone decided to drop by. A rose was always resting on your bedside table in lieu of his presence when you’d wake up alone. 
But it was hard even being together. It was agony to barely be able to touch each other, for Azriel to have to endure pain for as long as he could just to kiss you or to stroke your cheek. Your daemati powers and his shadows had been useful but it was nothing like being able to truly touch each other.
You were not going to give up. You would find a way to break the bargain. You had promised after all.
But part of you began to doubt how long this could go on. Would Azriel grow tired of only ever using his shadows with you? Would he resent you? So many questions like that swarmed your head despite Azriel trying to assure you that he only wanted you.
Hiding your relationship didn’t help with that either. Elain was still enamored with Azriel, still followed him around like a lost puppy dog. You had to clench your fist every time you were in a room with the two of them despite Azriel not reciprocating her feelings or entertaining them. 
That didn’t stop her from constantly sitting near him, resting her hands on him, batting her eyelashes in his direction. It caused something vile to coil in your stomach every time you had to watch her brush her fingers against his, rest a hand on his arm.
It was just a reminder that you couldn’t do that. That every touch you gave him resulted in pain.
And that part of you that was insecure wondered if Azriel would eventually give in to her. After all, he could touch her, feel her, do whatever he wanted with her…unlike you. 
Elain could make him feel pleasure without the curse of pain being attached. She could touch him, fuck him, do all sorts of things to him. Things you couldn’t.
How long could he truly go without the touch of another? What if the bargain could never be broken? 
You let out a sigh, dropping your head against the book you were currently reading about bargains. So far, nothing had been useful and you just wanted to scream and scream. 
“You should take a break.”
You jumped, surprised at the sudden voice in the room. You lifted your head to see Azriel leaning against the doorframe that led out to your balcony. Behind him came the noise of music and laughter as dusk was falling and the people of Velaris were coming alive into the night. 
“I still haven’t been able to find anything about breaking bargains. You’d think it would be a more popular subject.” 
Azriel strided towards you until he was next to where you sat in your chair at your desk. 
“It is a taboo topic,” Azriel replied. “Bargains are magic bound by the Cauldron. Breaking them goes against the Mother, or so it’s thought.” 
“Being able to make them in the first place seems to be against the Mother,” you mumbled under your breath. Because how could a stupid bargain be keeping you from being with the one you loved? That didn’t seem very divine. 
Azriel grabbed your chair and twisted it so you faced him, moving you as if you weighed nothing. You let out a small noise of surprise. 
Azriel kissed the top of your head, stroking your hair. “Just take a break, Princess. You’ve been at it for so long today. You’re going to drive yourself mad.” 
You let out a huff before a feline grin spread across your face. 
“I suppose you might be able to convince me to take a break,” you purred, looking up at him through your lashes. 
You stroked a claw against his mental shields and showed him a pretty image of you bent over the desk while he took you from behind. 
Azriel’s gaze instantly darkened as he groaned, his shadows swimming around him like they were already anticipating being used. He smirked, leaning down to whisper in your ear, “I can do more than convince you, Princess.”
Azriel balanced himself with his hands on the back of your chair and leaned down to kiss you on your lips causing butterflies to erupt inside your stomach. 
Your eyes fluttered shut, your chest already heaving as his lips met yours. 
A knock against your door had the two of you flying apart. Your eyes widened as you stared at Azriel.
“Dove, it’s me.”
You mouthed a curse at the sound of your brother’s voice. The door started to creak open. 
“Hide,” you whispered to Azriel.
He was already sinking into his shadows just as the door to your room flew open. Your heart was still pounding as your brother strode in, his eyes falling on you. He raised an eyebrow.
“Was someone else in here just now? I could’ve sworn I heard another voice.”
“And I could’ve sworn I locked my door,” you grumbled, smoothing your hair down. 
His eyes darted around the room and his nostrils flared. You saw the immediate realization as he recognized Azriel’s scent. 
“Azriel was here just a minute ago,” you hastily answered. “He was dropping off some books for me.” 
“Books? What for?”
As he walked closer, you slammed the book on your desk shut, not wanting him to see the section you had been reading. 
“Just some stuff I’m doing research on to do with Hewn City.” 
Rhys’s eyes narrowed but he didn’t say anything else about it thankfully. 
“Well, tell Azriel the next time he drops something off for you, he can come through the front door,” your brother said, crossing his arms over his chest.
You bristled at his tone, the hidden frustrations you had with him breaking through for a second as you snapped back, “What does it matter?”
“It matters because I needed to discuss something with him and it would’ve been nice to know he had dropped by.” Rhys gave you a look, one you knew all too well. 
Rhys’s eyes roamed over you, then darted around your room again. “Does Azriel make it a habit coming into your room at night?”
“No,” you answered quickly. “You’re the one who made him my personal guard. I don’t need a guard in Velaris so he helps me in other ways, like fetching books from the library for me.” 
“Fine. Well if Azriel decides to come around again, send him to my office.”
You only nodded in response, trying to hide your anger. You had to play this game for now. You wouldn’t ruin what little you and Azriel had. “Is there a reason you barged into my room?”
“We’re working on a new trade deal with Thesan and I need an update on how much iron they’re mining on average each month in the Court of Nightmares.”
“Alright, I’ll work on a report for you and Feyre. Is that all?”
Rhys raised an eyebrow. “So eager to get rid of me, dove? What’s gotten into you lately?”
“Nothing.”
Rhys waited for you to keep speaking but you refused. You were still so angry with him and you knew if you kept talking, there was a chance it’d all spill out. 
“Nothing? That’s it? That’s all you have to say?”
“What do you want me to say, Rhys? There’s nothing wrong.”
“Bullshit. You’ve been acting strange for a few weeks now. What’s going on with you?”
“Like I said, nothing. I’ve just been busy. I did ask for more responsibility, after all.” You crossed your arms over your chest and leaned back in your chair, trying to give off a casual demeanor. 
“Being busy doesn’t account for your snappy mood.”
You scoffed. “Well, maybe I’m just tired of you hovering over my shoulder all the time! Gods forbid you let me handle things on my own once in a while.” 
Rhys took a step back as your words hit him. You expected anger but we’re shocked to see a bit of guilt and sadness cloud his face. “Okay, okay. I know I’ve been overbearing. I’m sorry, dove, I just…it’s hard not to see you as the little girl I took care of all those years.”
You sighed, not expecting this. Perhaps you had been right when you told Azriel that the two of you should go to Rhys. Maybe he would be open to helping you both try to find a way to break the bond…maybe it was a mistake to hide it from him.
“I know, Rhysie, I just…I want to feel like I’ve done something important on my own for once, alright?”
“Okay,” Rhys said, holding his hands up in surrender. “I’ll leave you alone.”
He made to leave finally and you let out a small breath of relief.
“Oh, and we’re having a family dinner tomorrow night at the House of Wind. Helion will be attending as well so wear something nice,” Rhys said, moving back towards your door. 
“Alright, I will,” you answered, wanting him to just go already. 
He paused with his hand on your doorknob, looking back at you for a moment. “I love you, little dove. I know you said nothing is wrong but I hope you know you can come to me about anything. I will always help you in any way I can.”
“I know, Rhysie. I love you too.”
He nodded, seeming satisfied for the moment and left finally, closing the door shut behind him. You flicked a wrist to lock it with magic, as well as put a shield around the room.
A smile overcame your face as Azriel stepped out of the shadows. You were worried that your brother had killed his mood, would send him running but thankfully, Rhys hadn’t seemed to deter him at all. In fact, the thrill of it all seemed to only spur him on more.
He strided to you and locked you in a passionate kiss that had you gasping, his tongue immediately claiming your mouth. 
When he pulled back to look at you, he was grinning wolfishly. “So, where were we?”
You giggled as he lifted you off your chair and sat you down on your desk. You looped your arms around his neck, carefully to touch him as minimally as you could. “I believe you were about to convince me to take a break with you.”
─── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ───
“I told you. I couldn’t get her alone. That fucking shadowsinger wouldn’t let her out of his sight. Though now I know it’s because he’s fucking her.”
“I don’t care for your excuses, Princeling. I told you to bring me the girl. That was our deal.” 
“What’s so special about her anyways? Certainly there’s something else I can do for you, something else you need.”
The other male studied the Prince for a moment until the younger male seemed to cringe under his stare, slight fear in his eyes. 
“If you must know, the moment she stepped foot on these lands I felt the spike of power coming from her and I knew I had to add her to my collection. You want my help overthrowing the King, you bring me that girl.”
The prince sighed, frustrated. “And how do you suppose I do that? She’s being watched like a hawk by both her brother and the shadowsinger.”
“That’s your problem to figure out. You have your own magic, no? Time to get clever, Princeling. My patience is running out.”
Prince Cedric clenched his jaw but nodded, knowing it wise to not argue with the sorcerer. 
Koschei gave him one last look before retreating into the shadows leaving the Prince standing alone at the shore of his lake. 
─── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ───
a/n: sooooo, I hope you guys enjoyed this chapter!! hahah What do we think the prince is gonna do to kidnap our girlieee? and do you think she should tell Rhys what's going on with Azriel? Do we think her brother has regrets about making that bargain and would actually try to help them break the bond? hmmm who could possibly know
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disneyprincemuke · 4 months
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everything at 18, but nothing at 22
alternatively: times she finished in the points while he dnfs
in which the drastic difference in their performance in their career seems to finally be catching up to them
(series masterlist)
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-> australia, 2023
she simply cannot wipe the permanent smile on her face. she runs into her garage, straight from weigh-in, immediately greeted by blythe and ciara who are quick to take her in for a hug.
"oh, i made the points!" she laughs, jumping in a circle with her sisters. "can you believe it? i made history just by finishing in the top 10 today!"
"i told you you'll be amazing!" ciara puts her hands on her older sister's cheeks, before quickly pulling her in for another tight hug. "you did so well on the track amidst all the chaos!"
"history in the making with you just being here!" blythe shrieks, grabbing her shoulder. "you were amazing on the track. half the grid retired - did seb tell you?"
"he did," she laughs, slowly settling down as she stands on her feet. "speaking of that, i've got to speak to logan."
"no need to look around, i've got him here with me," oscar's accent fills her garage. "good job finishing above me, mate."
another shrill shriek escapes her mouth as she hops over to the two boys still in their race suits. she is received by oscar first, whispering neverending praises into her ear as they sway in their spot. she rubs circles on his back as they exchange compliments, both proud at their feat of achieving points in arguably one of the more chaotic races they've found themselves in.
as she pulls away, she meets a forced smile and sad green eyes as she is pulled into a hug by logan. "i'm so proud of you today. i stayed and watched the race just for you."
"baby, i'm sorry for the dnf," she whispers, her smile faltering slightly as she wraps her arms around his neck. she's lifted off the ground slightly, the height difference making their public hug slightly awkward. "this is only the third race - i swear it won't stay like this all season."
"no, don't worry about me," logan grins, pulling away from her. with a tender hand on her cheek, he quickly pulls it away when a flash goes off at the corner of his eye. instead, he settles for a hand on her shoulder and shakes her slightly. "today is all about you, ms. record breaker."
"for what it's worth, the fia is under fire for the chaos of today's race," she frowns, rubbing his sleeves up and down to offer a sense of familiarity.
their dream of getting into f1 together has finally come true. it's just a shame that they've got to keep their romantic gestures on the down low, or kept under wraps in fear of the backlash she might get.
"stop trying to justify my race," logan smiles, squeezing a cheek. he takes a step back and huffs, tilting his head as he looks at her. "look at you - i could have sworn you were just that lonely girl oscar decided to befriend at karting. now you're in f1 making history."
her smile carves into something softer, and looks up at him with a glimmer in his eyes that he couldn't ever get tired of. "i wouldn't be here without either of you."
logan squeezes her arm. "sneak into my hotel room later? let's watch a movie."
"oh, max invited me for drinks at some bar tonight. celebrate my first points or something like that," she frowns. "come with us, please? oscar will be there."
"i'll be okay," he smiles. "then sneak in after the drinks. you're funny when you're drunk, anyway."
"i'll sneak some cocktails in your room so we can watch a disney movie together and cuddle," she giggles. at the call of her name by sebastian, mentioning something about an interview she has to go do now. "i'll see you later?"
"i'll see you later." logan bends down, closing an eye when he feels her lips pressed against his cheek. "love you."
she turns around, already being pulled away by an impatient sebastian. she twists her body back to look at him. she mouths, "love you."
-> hungary, 2023
she presses her lips together, rocking back and forth on her feet as she awaits the door to open. when it does, it reveals a clearly dishevelled logan with a towel hung around his shoulders.
he's already in his sweatpants, while she stood out in the hallway in a romper, ready to head out for the evening. she scans her boyfriend head to toe and slumps her shoulders. "baby, you're not going out with us tonight?"
he pokes his head past the door, looking left and right before he lets her walk into his hotel room. she sighs softly, following him further into the room.
he drops himself onto the bed and shakes his head. "i don't deserve to be out and about celebrating after the race today. you go ahead and enjoy yourself, babe."
"my love," she hums, climbing onto the bed with a hand finding his neck to massage the muscle. "just because the race didn't go your way today doesn't mean you should lock yourself up here and be by yourself."
he leans into her touch, turning to lie on his side. he slings an arm around her waist while she comfortably sits on his bed. "i just don't think i should be outside. i'm an embarrassment." he nuzzles his face into the side of her thigh. "good call to keep the relationship behind closed doors - you'll be ridiculed for being with me."
"what?" she says softly, never really getting used to logan's harsh words against himself. she hangs her head low, trying to meet his eyes. "please, don't say that. i'm very proud of you. dnf or not."
"you and oscar have gotten your first points this year. i still have not," he sighs, turning to lie on his back again. "trust me, you don't want people to know you're dating me."
"i do want people to know i'm dating you," she coos, running her fingertip down the side of his face. she moves down and props herself up on her elbow to look over him. "it's just complicated right now - you know that."
"but you get what i'm saying, right?"
"i do," she lays on her stomach, pressing a kiss on his bare shoulder. "okay, let me tell max i'm not feeling great to head out tonight for drinks. do you want to go and eat somewhere just the two of us?"
"what? (y/n), please. you don't have to do any of this. i'm fine being by myself tonight."
"i want to be with you tonight," she grins. "let's go shopping? it's our first time in hungary."
-> zandvoort, 2023
"mate, have you seen logan?" she asks, approaching oscar with a frown. with a pepsi can in hand, she sips on the straw as her bright eyes scan the paddocks for her missing boyfriend. "usually, he'd be right by my garage after a race, but i've yet to find him."
"i can't say i've seen him since before the race," oscar frowns, realising that it's been a while since he's seen logan. he also scans the crowd, hoping that it's just her height that's hindering her chances of finding logan. to no avail, he doesn't find logan either. "is everything okay?"
she shrugs. "i don't know. he retired from the race again, did you hear?"
"i heard. do you know why?"
"no," she shrugs. "seb's got no idea either. can you let me know if you find him, please? i've got an interview i need to go and do."
-> singapore, 2023
"seriously?" she cries, tears rushing into her eyes. she takes the bouquet of loud colours and holds it against her chest. "this is the sweetest thing ever!"
"you like them?" logan grins down at the flowers that clash against the dark motif of her race suit tailor-made for tonight. "i saw them in the mall the other day when oscar and i were out. i was banking on the fact that you'd make it into the points today.
"even luckier that you made podium."
"this is the cutest thing ever," she smiles, sniffling as she drops her head to smell the flowers. "thank you so much, logan."
"you deserve it."
"but i'm sorry for where you finished today," she frowns, dropping an arm and moving to his side. she puts an arm around his waist and squeezes him slightly. "was the car not good today?"
"i think it's the street circuits not being very kind to me," logan sighs, shaking his head. "but, please, enjoy your podium celebrations. i'll join you for drinks tonight?"
"oh, really? you're joining tonight?"
"of course! my girlfriend just made history again," logan says softly into her ear. he squeezes her shoulder. "i have to be there to celebrate with her, right?"
-> qatar, 2023
"fuck!"
"logan, please. just sit down - you're really dehydrated."
"no, god. i'm such a fuck up!"
"hey, don't say that!"
"i retired again because i couldn't take the fucking heat!" he tugs at the roots of his hair, tears threatening to spill out of his eyes.
meanwhile, his girlfriend sits in the corner on a plastic chair with her lips pressed together as he paces around the room against the medical advice of every personnel who's attended to him.
still in her fireproofs, the younger girl nurses her helmet in her lap as she tries to calm logan down. "it's okay, baby. you weren't feeling well. you couldn't have done anything else."
"i could have just sucked it up and raced like everybody else!" logan frowns. "even you finished the race despite your period! what's that say about me?"
she scoffs, eyebrows furrowed as his statement manages to hit her the wrong way. "what are you trying to say? that between you and me, you deserved to finish more because i was hindered by the fact that i've got my period?"
regret strikes logan immediately, and she can see it in the way his look softens and his shoulders slump. "no, that's not what i meant. i mean, like-"
"it sounds like the way it sounds," she says softly, hurt lacing her every word. she shakes her head as she gets up to her feet, helmet hanging off her fingers by the strap. "i'll call you tomorrow, logan."
"(y/n), please wait. i'm sorry."
"i just need to be alone," she frowns, turning her back on him as she heads for the door. "feel better and stay put until the nurse comes back with an iv for you. but i've got to go - i just can't believe you'd say that to me."
-> mexico, 2023
"god, i'm no better at 22 than i was at 18." logan holds his face in his hands, elbows propped up on his knees as he finds comfort in the beanbag in her driver's room after their media commitments. "i don't understand."
it's another race where he's forcibly retired and she's managed to climb her way into the points. despite starting in the back of the grid that afternoon, she managed to challenge lando climbing up the positions on the track.
while she lost out to the more experienced driver, starting 16th and eventually climbing to 8th is no easy task. with sebastian in her ear, it was a slightly easier task that had a lot of people confused and shocked at where she suddenly finished the race.
realistically, it helped that the car was just feeling much better with the upgrades that the team brought in for her this weekend.
but logan unexpectedly had to retire towards the end of the race. which, was disheartening after the point that he got just last week in austin.
"am i just not made to be in f1? i don't get it," he says softly. "something's not right."
all she can do is sigh. nothing about their predicament now is easy: she can't fully relate to the low he's feeling because- well, she's doing fine in her rookie season compared to him.
she knows that and so does he. they try not to talk about it, but it's something that looms over their head whenever they're on social media or are attending interviews together. it doesn't make it any easier that fans are easily gawking at her presence when they chance upon them together in public.
while logan loves being her boyfriend, the past couple of years being the best times he's ever experienced, it's easier said than done to be proud of your girlfriend's achievements when you're always in the trenches week after week.
"i don't even know if i'll still have a seat next year," he sighs, throwing his head back to rest on the wall behind him. "god. i don't know what to do."
"i don't even know what to say," she whispers, crawling over to where he is. she places a hand on his knee and rests her chin on her hand. "i'm sorry you're feeling like this, lo."
"i know you don't get it."
"i know i don't. but i'm your girlfriend."
"you being by my side means more than you think it does." he breathes out with a sigh passing his lips, a hand resting on her shoulder as they sit in silence. "you can boast about your achievements to me, you know?"
"i know." she turns her head to look up at him. logan forces another smile, her worried stare igniting something in him to make sure that she knows he's okay. "but i'm with you even in your darkest hours."
"i'm extremely proud of how far you've come this season."
"i'm proud of how eloquently you're trying to hold yourself around me," she frowns, tracing circles on the material of his jeans. "but you don't have to pretend around me. we celebrate my achievements when you're feeling better."
"we can do both." logan sits up, a hand cupping her cheek to lift it up to meet his gaze. "your achievements shouldn't be tucked away in some box just because i had a bad weekend. i'm happy enough seeing you make history."
"logan..."
"let's head out to dinner with oscar tonight. it's a celebration - you guys have done so well."
"we can just stay in if you want."
"no more of that!" he cheers, his lips meeting the tip of her nose. "we're celebrating tonight. let's dress up, let's go out and take pictures, and then we can post about them on instagram while people speculate about how too close we seem to be. i don't care.
"you've done so much for the sport, you should be celebrated, babe. if you don't want to, i will celebrate you."
she sighs, rolling her eyes. "you're an idiot."
"but an idiot you love, yes?"
"an idiot i love, correct."
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onsunnyside · 1 year
Text
💤. 𝐒𝐥𝐞𝐞𝐩𝐲 𝐇𝐨𝐥𝐥𝐨𝐰
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𝗣𝗮𝗶𝗿𝗶𝗻𝗴 | Stalker!Ari Levinson x reader (College AU)
𝗪𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴𝘀 | DARK THEMES AND ELEMENTS, SMUT - minors DNI, NON-CON, DARK!Ari Levinson, stalking, implied drugging. College IT!Ari, camboy!Ari, outcast!Ari, size difference: 6’8!Ari. non-consensual filming & posting, perving, somnophilia, dirty talk, daddy kink, dry humping, size kink, masturbation (f & m), slight cumplay. 
𝗦𝘂𝗺𝗺𝗮𝗿𝘆 | Beware the quiet ones.
𝐨𝐧 𝐀𝐎𝟑
𝗪/𝗖 | 1.3K
𝗔/𝗡 | this is my entry for @boxofbonesfic Friday the 13th Challenge, and I picked stalker. Here’s the Pinterest board. this is my first time participating in a challenge, so i'm a little nervous, but here we go !! this is a dark fic, the warnings have been given—if you don’t like it, don’t read. all mistakes are my own. [all asks & drabbles]
˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ 𝐅𝐨𝐥𝐥𝐨𝐰 & 𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐧 𝐨𝐧 𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐭 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐢𝐟𝐢𝐜𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐦𝐲 𝐥𝐢𝐛𝐫𝐚𝐫𝐲: @𝐨𝐧𝐬𝐮𝐧𝐧𝐲𝐬𝐢𝐝𝐞𝐥𝐢𝐛𝐫𝐚𝐫𝐲
˗ˏˋ𝐌𝐚𝐢𝐧 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭ˎˊ˗ ⋰˚ 𝐂.𝐄. & 𝐂𝐨. 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭
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“I’ll call you when it’s fixed or if anything c-comes up…” 
You nod, quickly gathering your things. His throat tightens, fingers itching for yours. “I-I could walk you home, I don’t have any more appointments today.” 
“It’s fine. I live on campus.” 
“But it’s getting dark—”
“I’m okay.” You repeat firmly, softening the blow with a smile, “but thank you, Ari, I appreciate it.” 
You don’t give him another chance to protest and leave. When you step out, the smell of rain engulfs you, cool air washing away any traces of him, but your goosebumps never leave. 
Whatever. At least it’s done. 
You flip up your hood and start the short trek home, forcing yourself not to glance back—even though you just know he’s watching from the window. 
Desperate times called for desperate measures, and since your coursework list was neverending, you had no choice but to book an appointment with the IT department. One click, one stupid click on a link was all it took for your laptop to go haywire and then completely unresponsive. 
You couldn’t afford to miss another deadline, even if that meant sitting face-to-face with the campus outcast. 
Nothing was wrong with being alone or preferring solitude, but Ari had a strange energy around him. It was suffocating and unsettling, either too quiet, too friendly, or too close. 
There weren’t many places for him to hide with his towering height and broad stature, yet he blended in almost too naturally, adapting to the surrounding space as if he belonged there—when that was far from the truth. He didn’t belong anywhere, regardless of how hard he tried to pretend so.
The only tell was the feeling of being watched. 
His blue eyes set in steely glare, dissecting you like one of those dead specimens on the aluminum tray.  
You had a lab with him one year, and you remember the shivers crawling up your spine when he smiled and made his way over. You thank the universe every day that Natasha slid into the free chair and asked very loudly if you’d be her partner.  
“He’s a fucking weirdo.” Natasha grumbled in disgust, glaring at his retreating back, “I don’t have to know him to know he’s into freaky shit.”
Rumours were always just gossip, ill judgment spreading around like wildfire but at this point, you’d believe anything about him, anything to fill that empty void of unease.
Was there any proof that he was into fucked up shit? Or that he was a dark web lurker or a disgusting pervert? No, but your gut told you to flee whenever he was around and that was enough.
Ari was a proud introvert, an odd balance between shy and awkwardly friendly. A small part of you pities him—the different, nerdy reject shrouded in alleged disturbed mystery. You’d never admit it but he was devilishly handsome and in an alternative dimension, he’d be exactly your type. 
In any other classes you shared, you purposefully arrived late so he couldn’t sit next to you and so far,  it’s kept him at bay. You felt weird around him but so did everyone else. 
If there were something truly wrong with him, all of those lingering suspicions would’ve exposed him by now, or at least that’s what you tell yourself.
It was easy to blame everything on stress, the pressure of school and your impending future weighing heavy on your shoulders. Like most lonely nights, you dive into the virtual passions of the Internet. 
With earbuds in, you scroll through the profiles, your gaze lingering on the lewd photos and biographies. One catches your attention, a little red ‘Top Hot 20’ pinned by the username and a teasing picture of flexed abs and a dark happy trail. You read over his most recent videos: 
Jerking off and cumming in library (almost caught) – public masturbation
Eating sleeping girlfriend’s wet pussy – puffy clit, spitting, pussy slapping
You tap on the last one:
Dry humping girlfriend while she sleeps – dirty talk, cum shot
Clean runners softly pad on the carpet floor, the blanket is pulled back and exposes the girl’s backside. The dim flash barely illuminates her body, just an outline of her figure bathed in the moonlight. His big hand caresses her thighs, wasting no time in rubbing over her core. 
Almost in a trance, you replicate his motions, tracing over your clothed slit as a quiet breath flutters from your lips, drowned out by his heavy groan.
“Look at you, all ready for daddy…” He rasps, his words slurred, “You knew what I needed tonight, huh?” He touches her petals, spreading the panty-clad folds, “Such a cute little pussy, Want me to fuck you?”  
She sleepily rocks against his hand and he laughs, silencing her murmurs with a hand on her back. He manhandles her as he pleases, tossing pillows and blankets to the floor before straddling the back of her thighs.
You exhale and dip your fingers beneath the band of your underwear, seeking that needy bundle. Tingles fill your tummy while you circle your hole, gathering your juices up to your clit. 
His fist squeezes his base and slides up to the angry red tip, smearing the pearly dribbles with his thumb. He’s thick and long, veins protruding from the smooth girth before disappearing under his bushy pubic hair. He grinds against her ass, his pre cum leaking all over her panties.
“You’re so fucking wet, I can smell you.” 
With heavy groans, he rocks against her and the camera shakes. Primal thrusts slide his solid cock between her cheeks, staining the poor cotton. His big hand lands a series of harsh spanks, they’re so hard you feel the burning sensation too. 
You fuck yourself with your fingers in time with his grinds and whine, imagining his fat length rubbing against you just like that. 
“One of these days I’m gonna rub my sack all over your cunt. Get you all messy.” A forceful thrust sends the girl sliding a few inches up the bed. “Awh, you dropped your stuffie, little dummy.” He reaches out of the frame and returns with a stuffed animal. 
It takes you less than a second to recognize the black and white spots. To your horror, he places the stuffie on a pillow and pets the head right between the small horns. 
“There we go, gotta make sure Milky is watching. You gonna be quiet for me now, baby?” He laughs, “oh, why am I even asking? It’s not like you can wake up anyway.” 
Your heart plummets to the ground, shattering every layer of the Earth until falling into the endless oblivion of space.
“Can’t wait to fuck your ass, maybe I’ll do it while you’re sleeping, just like how I ate your cute cunt.” He spits, roughly groping her—your flesh, “bet you woke up all sore. Was wondering why you were so sensitive, like someone tortured your pussy.” He curses lowly and his hips stutter,  “sorry for bein’ so mean. You make me into a fucking animal.” 
All air is yanked from your body when his cum spurts out, covering your panties and lower back. He groans shamelessly, jerking off with his own seed to expel every last drop before pulling down the back of your stained panties. He rubs it into your skin like a sick claim of ownership. 
“I love you so much, baby. You have no fuckin’ clue.”
Despite the lightheadedness, you scroll to the comments. Every blink momentarily focuses your blurry vision on the bright screen: 
Cute stuffed animal lol
should’ve taken her panties off. I wanted to see that pretty pussy
damn, she’s knocked out cold. How does she sound when she’s awake?
MrSinister: absolutely divine. She’ll be awake in my next video, I promise.
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𝐄𝐧𝐝𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐬: my oh my 🫡 i feel very dirty, like i need to physically scrub my brain from this whore behaviour. happy Saturday besties.
𝐒𝐩𝐞𝐜𝐢𝐚𝐥 𝐍𝐨𝐭𝐞! be sure to check out the other fics for bones' challenge !!
As always, I hope you all enjoyed this and I’d love to hear your thoughts/feedback !! <3 — ☼ 𝐃𝐨𝐧𝐚𝐭𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐦𝐲 𝐊𝐨-𝐟𝐢 ☼
I don’t do taglists anymore. ˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ 𝐅𝐨𝐥𝐥𝐨𝐰 & 𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐧 𝐨𝐧 𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐭 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐢𝐟𝐢𝐜𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐦𝐲 𝐥𝐢𝐛𝐫𝐚𝐫𝐲: @𝐨𝐧𝐬𝐮𝐧𝐧𝐲𝐬𝐢𝐝𝐞𝐥𝐢𝐛𝐫𝐚𝐫𝐲
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atzfilm · 5 months
Text
APRICITY - c. jongho (m)
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➼ pairing/wc; jongho/f.reader, 3.6k ➼ genre; enemies to lovers, fantasy (faeries), angst ➼ warnings; explicit smut, murder mentions, cursing
with your kingdoms having been at war for centuries, it's only fitting that you would be kidnapped and locked in the room with your sworn enemy – choi jongho.
part of the ...and it's snowing collab
-------------------------
“Being locked in a room with you isn’t exactly what I’ve planned,” you murmur, back against the corner as you stare at Choi Jongho. It is all you can do, the room tiny enough for you to only stretch out your arms and legs, a small crack for ventilation, a toilet in the corner. He has grown since you’ve last seen him as a teenager – height a bit taller than yourself, wary shoulders now solid. Brown locks grown out and over his eyes, though still holding a slightly joyous expression on his face as if he finds amusement in the situation. It only makes you grow more irritated. Out of everyone from his kingdom, he’s the last person you would want to see.
“Nor did I plan for my week to turn out this way, y/n. Wait, do you smell that?” His nose wrinkles. “Ah, it is just the odor coming from your side of the room.”
Stone-faced, you scoff, “How childish. We are barely a couple of yards apart.”
He shrugs, snickering, “You used to find me hilarious.”
“Fifteen years have passed since we were confidants, Jongho. I’m no longer a child that laughs at mediocre jokes.”
“That you are not,” he agrees, sliding down to sit on the floor.
The oppressive atmosphere in the room only seems to amplify the weight of your shared history. Jongho and yourself, heirs to the neverending feuding faerie kingdoms, trapped together in this small room. It is not something either of you chose, a rebel group forcing the two of you to occupy this space. Their end-goal is unknown, but your thoughts could only linger on one possibility - your demise. Being the heir to a kingdom has its drawbacks, including attempts of kidnapping. This time they’ve bested you, and Jongho as well.
From the moment you both drew your first breaths, you two were inseparable. It wasn't until you reached puberty that the truth was told to you by your parents, stripping away the semblance of childhood that you once had. It made sense, once you’ve thought it through. No wonder Jongho only sought you out at night, hidden in the underbrush of the thickened forest that separated your two kingdoms. No wonder his face would twist everytime you discussed your duties with him. He knew, and you never did. Jongho and you had been inseparable. Roaming the forests hand in hand, yourself unaware of the hatred that would soon grow in your own heart. The revelation was disastrous, to say the least. You broke off your friendship soon after confronting him about it.
Your thoughts linger on how the man sitting in front of you was once a scrawny teen, barely able to stand about without stumbling on something hidden in tall grass. How you two laughed together in the dark, shared secrets you’d never tell another soul. Yourself, still harboring the remnants of a childish crush, forcing your frown to deepen. You don’t know him like before, and you’re sure as Hell not willing to try now. He is meaningless to you, despite the pang of your heart each time he meets your eyes.
Jongho is an enemy, nothing more.
“Cold as usual,” Jongho looks at you, tucking his hands into his pockets. “Care to share those thoughts of yours?”
“There’s nothing for me to say to you,” you murmur. “So I’d rather remain in silence.”
“When we were young, you were talkative. You spoke more than me.”
You meet his gaze for a brief moment. How could you forget? You rarely ever stopped speaking around him, your laughter echoing around the nights you spent together. There was true happiness, back then. You wouldn’t admit that to him now, but you do miss it. "Yes, Jongho. Those days are long gone. I was naive."
Jongho grunts, frustration manifesting in the roll of his eyes, “You’re acting as if you didn’t know.”
“I didn’t! My parents told me when I was of age about what your people have done to mine. This isn’t something simple like Romeo and Juliet, Jongho. This runs deeper than that silly play.”
“Your kingdom—your people—started all of this. We were the ones that were blindsided by your deceit."
"Blindsided? This started long before any of us were born. Our friendship was doomed from the beginning. And I don’t understand why we’re talking about this when we’ll just go in circles placing blame on the other."
You stop speaking, giving him your back. Your eyes, unbeknownst to him, softened momentarily. You can remember when your heart grew seeing him, the days when you were, unburdened by the weight of your responsibility. You are to become the next royal to sit on the throne. To take on this yourself. But still, you can’t help that small feeling in yourself. What if… what if things were different? What if Jongho and you lived in the same kingdom? What if you weren’t in line for the throne?
"Remember the secret meadow? It was quite pretty when it snowed. I wonder if it's still snowing now." he asks after an hour or so has passed.
“There’s no use in thinking of those things.”
He ignores you, continuing. "The one we’ve hidden from our parents, the one we’ve met often to speak about our problems, to vent about our responsibilities? Or have you forgotten?”
Your shoulders tense for a moment. You can remember. How you’ve cried on his shoulder, sobbed even, at the words your parents told you, the people who have passed because of this war. Unable to do anything but watch.
"I remember," you admit, the crack of your voice betraying you. “You would tell me how your brothers bullied you, how your sister left you to deal with it on your own.”
“Remember when we told each other, no, promised, that despite it all, we would still be friends. We would fight for us?”
“That was before I knew.”
“y/n,” he sighs after a moment. “You told me you hated your parents, you hated the bloodshed. And I believed you. I still believe you think the same way. I didn’t tell you who I was and what kingdom I belonged to because you would have hated me.”
“I do hate you.”
“No, no you don’t.”
You turn around, meeting his eyes. He looks exhausted, eyes riddled with tiredness. More than just due to the current circumstances. Though you haven’t seen him in years, only through photographs or word of mouth, you still hurt for him. Wish that somehow, you’d be able to wipe his fatigue away. You eye the wound on his leg, before looking away.
“I do.”
He doesn’t try to correct you now, both of you knowing the truth. He adjusts himself against the wall, whispering expletives underneath his breath as his wound touches the cold, cement floor. Your eyes flick down to it, blood pooling beneath him. It will collate soon, sure, but right now it must be painful. You slip a finger into your jacket, a small wrapping of gauze and healing potion sewn into the fabric. He watches you carefully as you slide, tensing once you scoot closer to him. You hesitate, scooting closer to him. His eyes flicker with a mixture of pain and worry. You extend a hand toward his leg, watching his own grip his pants tightly.
"Let me help you," you say. You can sense his hesitation as you examine the wound, glancing at him for a brief moment. “Stay still.” You rip off a piece of your own clothing, dipping it into the potion.
Jongho watches you silently, hissing when it touches his skin. As you continue, his rigid posture begins to relax. Despite you two being enemies, despite the animosity that still hangs in the air, for this moment in time, you two silently agree to a momentary truce. The potion glows as you bound his leg with the small wrapping of gauze, your fingers light against his skin. He seems to hold his breath as he stares at you.
You don't dare look up from your ministrations. It is tough enough being this close to him, even worse, knowing that your small crush you harbored has not lessened despite the years. It is so silly, humorous even. How easily your heart is swayed being in the same room with him. You finish securing the bandage, eyes resting on his. The hardened gaze that you expect to see is anything but.
Brown eyes wide, an array of emotions displayed within them. For that brief moment, it feels as if there is nothing there between you but raw emotions. The bitter exchange you just endured, sure, but other things as well. The wonder of finally seeing your childhood friend over a decade later, the unspoken regrets. You can only imagine what your eyes are revealing to him.
"Thank you," he whispers, words carrying much more than just gratitude.
You nod, swallowing slowly. “It’s nothing.” You slide away, this time still within arm's reach.
“We’re going to die here anyway. There was no use in healing me,” he looks down, watching his skin sew itself slowly. “You could have kept that for yourself.”
“I’d rather not hear you moan and groan in pain. And I don’t want to be stuck in here with a body.” You lean back, head resting against the wall. Your body aches, your own wounds still not healed. It’s stupid to help him before yourself, but perhaps, in that fondness of his, between the anger and resentment, he’ll be able to get out of here and tell your people what happened. He was always so much braver than you, stronger. The cut on your stomach throbs as you think of it.
“Have you not outgrown your stubbornness?” he murmurs, shooting a glance at you. “Pitiful.”
“Fuck you, Jongho,” you hiss. “I heal you and you only complain.”
“I thanked you. Then I told you what a vacuous choice you’ve made when you’re sitting there pretending that you’re not hurt at all.”
“Please stop talking,” you merely sigh, pushing strands away from your face. “I cannot believe I’m going to die next to you of all people.”
“I’ve seen worse fates.”
You draw your leg back, intending to deliver a swift kick to stop. him. from. talking. But Jongho, ever perceptive, catches it with his left hand. Your eyes locked in a silent struggle, and for a moment, the room seemed to hold its breath. He does not let go when you attempt to wiggle out of his hold. “Jongho, if you don’t-”
Breaking the silence, Jongho releases your foot, a wry smile playing on his lips. "I guess some things never change. I've always been faster than you."
You snort. “In your dreams.”
“Oh?” Without another word, he hovers above you, hands resting on the wall behind you. Surely, you didn’t expect for him to do anything, especially with that leg of his. Barely a few inches apart, you look up at him, mildly shocked.
Your chest tightens, heart quickening at the lack of personal space. His knees slowly drop to the floor, body still not touching yours as his knees entrap you on either side of your body. Eyes remaining on yours. You try looking away, but he moves a hand, reaching up to your face, stilling you. His thumb is rough, years of hurt and war etched into the lines. His hold is delicate enough for you to push away.
But something makes you stay.
“You-”
He leans forward, lips a breath away from yours. "We were always more than just friends, y/n."
Your fists tighten at his words, closing your eyes for a moment. “We were only just friends.”
“You have forgotten how well my hearing is. I can hear that heart of yours beating. I know you’re lying to me. Should I let you lie this time?” he tilts his head slightly to the side, lips dragging across the curve of your chin.
You reach out, fingers digging into the fabric of his shirt. How easily you crumble in his presence. “You are delusional.”
“I am, aren’t I?” his laugh is heavy against your neck, lips pressing against the corner of your mouth. An invitation, a pause. Your hand pulls him closer, and he takes that as encouragement, mouth on yours in an instant. You can barely breathe with him against you, him nipping and sucking your lower lip between his teeth, sliding his tongue into your mouth. Hands pulling you back as he sits on the floor. You straddle him, hovering above his body. Careful not to sit on his leg. His hands wrapped around your hips force you down against him, a groan escaping him when your calf hits his wound.
You pull back, worried, “Jongho–”
“Fuck,” he curses, pupils back. “I want you so bad.”
“Your leg–”
“y/n, if I gave a shit about my leg I wouldn’t have let you sit on me,” he grins, lips pressing against your wrist. “Ride me.”
Your legs tighten at the prospect, waves of pleasure pulsing through you. You almost ask him to repeat what he’s just said, but he’s already nudged down his pants. You glance back at the door behind you. “Should we?”
“They come around every evening just before supper. We have time.” His fingers tug at the top of your jeans, “Please.” He breathes heavily. “Please my pretty girl.”
“Okay, okay, let’s be quick,” you slip off your pants down to your knees. Jongho waits no time, fingers sinking into you with ease. Your cunt tightens against them, hands wrapped around him piercing the skin off his back. His lips move back to yours, tongue entering your mouth the same time he pulls his fingers out. The wet sound of your arousal echoes around the small room, hips thrusting into his hand each time he enters you. “Ah, Jong–”
“You’re so wet for me, fuck,” he pulls away from your mouth, fingers leaving you. You moan, a huff escaping your lips when you feel him leave. He’s quick, spitting into his hand and stroking his length. He rubs his tip against your folds, rubbing against your clit. You press your forehead into his shoulder. A small laugh escapes him, before he presses his cock into you. His hands wrap around your hips, pushing you down fully against him. You gasp, the sudden intrusion only tightening your grip on his cock.
“Feel so good, you’re so good for me. Come on baby, bounce on my cock. Do it for me pretty.”
You slowly rise up before pressing down on him, a long moan falling from his lips, head thrown back. The pace is slow in the beginning , the feeling of him almost consuming you entirely. Jongho’s hand reaches down, thumb rubbing against your clit. You tremble, immediately sitting on his cock. After a moment of adjustment, you move up and down much quicker, moving your head off his neck to look at him. His eyes meet yours with ease, a slight smirk on his lips.
“Fuck you,” you utter, and he laughs.
“Surely you know we’re already in the middle of it?”
He grabs your body, moving swiftly. Soon, you’re against the floor, his jacket beneath you as he roughly grips your body, slamming his cock into you. You lock your legs around his hips as he pounds on you with reckless abandon. Ramming into your cunt, fingers digging deep into your flesh, surely to leave bruises. Your arms are stretched above you, resting against the wall as he drags his tip against your walls mercilessly.
“Jongho,” you whimper, his gaze moving back to yours. The look is intense, enough so that you move your gaze back to his cock pressing into you. The sound of skin on skin becoming slick as you moan against him, body moving in sync with his as his thrusts echo around you. If anyone were close, they’d hear you two now. Panting as he fucks you roughly, each look and touch of his pushing you closer to the edge. Tears slipping down your cheeks as spit pools in the corners of your mouth. He leans forward, sliding his palms down your clothed body as it rocks beneath his thrusts.
“Wish I could see all of you,” he admits after a moment, lips pressing against your cheeks, wiping away the tears with the gesture. “Wish I can do this to you every fortnight.” The sound of sex echoes throughout the room, your synced moans loud with need and desperation. Neither of you speak, wordless gasps. He presses his forehead against yours, breaths loud. His pace increases until only one or two words slip through gasp, “Come with me pretty girl, come on.” Fingers reaching between the two of you, he presses his thumb against your aching clit and moves in tight, small circles. It doesn't take much for you to fall over the edge, your body quivering and spasming beneath his fingers. He follows you promptly, cum sliding back down his now softening length still buried deep within you. You're both looking one another over, taking in the sight of him after their intense moment together.
Jongho pulls you into his chest, arms wrapped around your body. There’s not much to say to him, the arousal of the moment dwindling by each passing moment, reality slowly coming back to you. Thoughts cross your mind in an instant - your family, your kingdom. How you betrayed them in a weak moment of being in the same room as the person you shouldn’t have been with. It is not his fault, you fell for him in an instant. His body trembles against yours, breaths shuddered.
“You will go back to them even after this?” his voice is low, hesitant. “You would leave my side?”
“We have duties, Jongho-”
“Do you not love me, y/n?” He pulls away from you, sorrow filling his eyes. You can feel your heart breaking. “This was not me just fucking you, y/n. This was me making love to you. I love you. How could you not see that I always have?”
“We cannot be together. You know this. We are heirs to the throne in our respective kingdoms-”
“What if we weren’t any longer? What if… what if we abandoned our posts?”
Your skin grows cold, “What?”
“We leave our positions. We run. They have others to take our place, and we live far away from here. We enjoy each other for the first time in our lives without hesitation. We no longer have to follow silly rules or the whims of our parents. We love the way we are meant to. The way faeries are meant to, y/n. Without any troubles. We just live.”
He looks at you with hope, with adoration. With pure, unrivaled love. It would be foolish of you to deny his words, no? Nothing else is said, your hands reaching up, cupping his cheeks as you press your lips lightly against his. His laughter echoes in the small room, unbeknownst if you two will survive the next few days. Or if you’ll even live after tonight. All you two know is that you’re together, finally. And nothing, no one, would prevent that.
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feelingdozy · 1 year
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I love your writing omg <3 it's MARVELOUS I'm so jealous!! could you do finnick odair flirting with a shy!gn!reader? Like he calls them cute and they just freak out and hide into their shirt or a blanket, etc etc? And he just keeps flirting until reader just covers his mouth and they make eye contact and it's a HUZZAH moment before finnick just kisses them?? sorry if this is really specific!! thank you if you fulfill this request <3
A Little Shy
Finnick Odair x Reader
Hunger Games Masterlist
Summary: you go out to town to find some supplies for fishing as it's the perfect season. You find yourself inexperienced with tridents, and someone comes along to help you find the perfect one to fit your needs.
Note: this is a super cute request and will probably take awhile to post because I want to make sure it is absolutely perfect, also thank you!! I try my best to write as nicely as possible
Warnings: mention of death and killing, slap (hand over mouth)
You had wanted to go to the market in district 4 for awhile, wanting to see what there was to offer at this time of the month. It was the prime time for fishing, so a lot of people had been stocking up.
You stayed for a few hours getting the basic supplies, making your way over to the tridents. You had never been a pro even as a district 4 victor, but had always admired people who were able to use a Trident so easily.
You looked around slowly at all they had to offer, wondering at that point if maybe you should get your own and try it out.
"that one's nice, huh?"
You jumped at the voice that came from behind you, quickly turning around. You should've recognized the voice, of course it was Finnick.
Naturally, you got shy knowing how much you admired his Trident skills as he'd won with them as the youngest in the arena. You hated the games, but loved the skills of the weapons that came with it.
"are you good at using a trident? I've never seen you use one"
He was watching you? I mean he was your mentor back then, but you were really a nobody. You thought your win was a bit sad compared to other people who had won with skill. It was the career in you talking, quickly coming back to realize the horror that came behind it all and that you were lucky to be standing here alive right now.
"not really, I'd love to learn though.."
Your voice was quiet and faded off as you glared at other ones surrounding the two of you.
"how about you come down to my house later and I'll teach you a few tricks y/n?"
You turned to him, his charming smile placed on his face as he found your eyes.
"sure"
A blush found your cheeks, a little intimidated to be taught to use a trident by the Finnick Odair. Even though you should've learned how to use a Trident in the training for the games, you focused on your hand to hand combat and nature tips and tricks then the main weapon of your district. It made you feel a little more reassured that you wouldn't die by accidentally eating the wrong type of berry.
You picked out a trident fitting to your hand, comfortable in your hold. Then it was time to start walking to the victors village that was surrounded by ocean. Their backyards went out to a beautiful beach, and then water. Constant, neverending water leaving room to do anything you aspire to.
The walk was peaceful, as usual. The weather was hotter than usual so if you were going to be in the water, why not change into a bathing suit? You quickly went home and put on a bathing suit beneath your clothing, hiding it before you got to his house.
You knocked on his door, his footsteps getting closer and your heartbeat faster. The anxiety hit as he opened the door. You just now realized his height compared to yours and how shy you were. It's the Finnick Odair. How could you not be a little scared?
"come in"
He said with the same charming smile as before, gesturing for you to sit anywhere you'd like. His place was nicely decorated, ocean themed items around you at every turn. Tridents sat on the wall, some framed and some just hung as a decoration.
He had gone to the kitchen, his back turned towards the living room. You looked at his hair that always looked amazing and you wanted to ruffle it and run your hands through it- wait. We're you actually thinking of.. no. This was Finnick Odair. Loved by the capitol, loved by the people in his district and by the other victors. He was an amazing person despite what he had gone through, most not being able to handle it all.
He brought out some cookies and sat them on the table in front of you. He sat down, the couch dipping with the new weight beside you slightly pulling you toward him, slowly sliding. Your cheeks now had a light blush again from simply being in his presence. His eyes glistened in the light of his house, his hair fluffy and his face charming and cute. You thought Finnick Odair was cute. The Finnick Odair.
He stared at you for awhile before breaking the silence.
"soo, you've never picked up a Trident before y/n?"
You nodded your head no. He sort of knew when he was training you many years ago, just a year older than you, wondering why you didn't pick up a trident. He admired your other abilities back then, knowing how to identify different leafs or berries and hand to hand combat were great abilities in general, but especially because you got put in the arena where you'd need just those skills, like it was almost fit for your win.
It's funny because you were by far the shyest tribute he had ever seen, you didn't talk much or make a fuss like many other tributes had done, but instead listened and took any and all information and tips and tricks from the past victors that only wanted to help. Why did people go out of their way to make a fuss?
Your head was turned down from his, scared to actually make eye contact with him no matter your past relationship.
"you can look at me y'know. I don't bite?"
He laughed, your head hesitantly turning upwards, scared that you'll reveal the layer of red forming on your now heat-radiating cheeks.
"no need to be nervous, y/n."
He said, and you swear he was teasing you at this point. You looked into the distance again, seeing him taking in your facial features from your peripheral vision. His eyes widened a bit before his classic smile appeared on his face that he always wore, except it seems a little more.. genuine than before.
"you're cute."
Your eyes then met with his again, and now greatly flustered in front of the man. He memorized your face in the moment, how your cheeks gained more color and your eyes widened. You couldn't even make words come out of your mouth, your heartbeat pounding too loud and mind too fuzzy to make a coherent sentence.
"huh-?!"
Was all that came out of your mouth. He slowly lifted himself up to where his arms were to the side of your face. You quickly pulled up your shirt, covering your slowly reddening face to where you might've been radiating heat, heat that he must've felt through the fabrics that layered because it was so warm.
"You're so cute. Shy hm?"
Your heartbeat pounded louder and louder within your chest as you once again admired the man who was above your sitting, now laying form. You buried yourself even deeper within your shirt before he could see even more obvious and powerful hints of red on the rest of your face.
"look at you. So red. You like me calling you cute sweetheart?"
A slap echoed in the room as you couldn't handle it anymore. You put your hand over his mouth, your heart not being able to take anymore of his flirting. You could feel his signature grin form under your hand as he put his hand on your arm. His hand slowly slid up til it reached yours, taking it and kissing the outside of your palm.
Your eyes met with his sea green. His other hand creeped onto your cheek, his head slowly getting closer to yours.
his lips collided with yours with a deep need to feel your lips for the first time. He deepened the kiss, his soft lips feeling amazing on yours. You couldn't believe your first kiss was with the Finnick Odair. Part of it because you were already in your twenties and you had never kissed anyone before, not having any partners when you were younger. But mostly because it was him.
You let him take the lead, not knowing what else to do. You let go as you had to take a breath even though you never wanted to let go of his soft lips, feeling like you had been in another world while kissing him.
"promise me you won't explode if I kiss you again?"
He laughed as you nodded, going in again for another kiss that had sucked you in, captured you.
You had just kissed Finnick Odair. Twice.
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senorabond · 2 months
Text
Rumor Has It: Chapter 8 Peña x f!reader x Pike
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Pairings: Javier Peña x f!reader; Marcus Pike x f!reader; future Peña x f!reader x Pike
Chapter 8 Summary: Before going any further, you set some ground rules with Javi. Then it's fucking game on.
Rating: 18+ (Minors DNI), Explicit sexual content, additional warnings may be added for future chapters
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Chapter Warnings: no use of y/n, previous relationship (Marcus x f!Reader), flashback, slowburn that got hot, workplace romance, ohh the yearning, fake relationship, keeping it secret, unprotected PIV sex (stay safe, folks), Dom/sub dynamic, use of Daddy, slight degradation kink (you’re a good little slut/whore), rough sex, possessiveness, cuckolding if you squint (I really don’t know how to describe it), dirty talk (Javi has a filthy mouth), light titty/ass spanking (2 light, 1 harder), hair pulling, spit, talk about anal, very light cumplay/eating, aftercare, soft!Javi, a bit of feels. 
Reader/Character notes: Reader is fem!afab; No mention of Reader’s body size, shape, composition, or skin color. Reader is short enough to notice a difference in height without heels and has hair long enough to brush aside and pull back.
Words: 8.1k
Author’s Note: THEY FINALLY FUCK - Jeeeeesus. Took them long enough, huh? Please let me know if I missed anything I should add to the warnings, I feel like I took a kinky bag of scrabble tiles and just dumped them out on the floor with this chapter. This is easily the filthiest fucking thing I’ve ever written, and I’m actually really proud of myself. My new taglist is at the end! If you’d like to be added, just send me a DM or say so in a comment. ❤️
A ginormous thank you to my darling beta, @kilamonster. I could not have written this without your neverending support and tutelage. I can’t wait to write more smut in Spanish with you! Also, I’m not sorry for sending you periodic updates and random questions about the thots running wild in my head. 💋💜 
Also, for anybody else like me who wants to write more smut in Spanish, @kilamonster sent me this incredible resource written by the amazing @urmomsgnocchi. Representation is so important, and this is just one of the many ways writers can do their part to represent different languages and cultures in their work. Please like, comment, and reblog the post so more writers can benefit!
Dividers by @saradika!
Masterlist || Previous Chapter
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“Okay, ‘grown ass woman,’” he says, and you let out a small laugh. “I’ve got a choice for you to make.”
“Oh, yeah? And what’s that?” 
“Your place or mine?”
~*~*~*~
Later That Night Texas
You chose your place. Javi says he’ll give you a half hour head start to avoid any suspicion from the other agents. You’ve put your blazer back on and fixed your hair, but the wet heat between your legs remains. 
The gallery event wraps up, and Javi tells the others to report to the conference room the following morning for the official debrief. You check in with Diaz, who is still at the hospital, and are glad to hear that Bateman is already in post-op recovery and doing well. 
Standing in your kitchen back home, old, familiar feelings wash over you. The adrenaline of the night has worn off, leaving you off balance. Marcus comes to mind, and his calm, grounding energy. You groan in frustration. You can’t let thoughts of Marcus creep in and ruin what is happening with Javi. 
What is happening with Javi? Obviously, the sexual tension between you is off the charts; and the chemistry – oh God, the chemistry. Your heart rate goes up just thinking about how it felt to have his mouth and hands on you finally, his hardness pressing into you through his pants… 
Taking a deep breath, you mutter to yourself, “I need a drink.”
Glass of wine at the ready, you kick off your heels and hang up the blazer in your closet. You feel as taut as a harp string and take a large gulp from your wine, hoping it will relax you. Rolling your neck and shoulders, you hear your phone buzz on the kitchen counter.
Setting the glass down, you take a deep breath and pick up your phone. 
It’s a text from Javi. Maybe he changed his mind, or decided sleeping together wasn’t worth the risk to the case or your careers. Unlocking the screen, you read the text only to see that he’s giving you a final chance to change your mind.
I’m here. Do you still want me to come inside?
Peeping through the blinds, you look down at the parking lot outside your apartment building. The streetlamp casts just enough light to see Javi’s Jeep parked in one of the visitors’ spots. The man himself is in shadow, pacing a bit and fidgeting with his phone, presumably waiting for your reply. You smile, realizing that he might actually be a tad nervous too.
Opening your front door, the light from your apartment spills across the walkway outside and catches Javi’s attention. He stops and looks up expectantly to where you stand, backlit and beckoning to him from the second floor railing. Pocketing his phone, Javi makes a beeline for the stairs and takes them two at a time, reaching you in less than a minute. 
The first thing you notice is the difference in your height, now that you’re barefoot. He’s smiling down at you, fingers dancing at his sides. 
“Touch me,” you reply softly, “please.” 
His tongue pokes out and wets his bottom lip.
“Inside.” Javi’s voice is strained, but firm. 
Turning, you lead him inside your apartment, then hear him shut and lock the door behind him. You start to face him, but he interrupts. 
“Don’t. Stay like that for me.” 
Footsteps approach slowly from behind, making a coil tighten in your lower belly. You feel his presence at your back before he even touches you. Goosebumps erupt across your flesh as his fingers lightly graze your shoulders and upper arms. 
A hand sweeps your hair to one side and off your neck. You tilt your head in the same direction, hoping to feel his lips on your sensitive skin. Javi’s hands still and he leans over to speak low in your ear. 
“If we do this, I only have one rule.” 
You smirk, remembering the first time he said that. 
“You make the rules?” You start to turn your head to look at him, but his grip on your upper arms tightens just enough to hold you in place. His mustache twitches against the shell of your ear as he smiles, sending delicious signals to your already peaked nipples.
“No.” He takes a breath through his nose, smelling your hair. “You do.”
You let out a surprised Oh. 
“You’re in charge of this; you decide what we do or don’t do, and how far this goes.” He walks around to face you, and you’re surprised to see how gentle his eyes are. They’re round and sincere, serious but not stern. You can’t wait to see them looking up at you from between your legs.
“Understand?”
You nod and he cups your face, running the pad of his thumb over your mouth and parting your lips.
“Use your words, cariño. I need to hear it.”
“I understand,” you say, then drag the tip of your tongue against his thumb. He lets out a pleased hum. 
“Good. Now, tell me your rules.” His other hand strokes your lower back, sending shivers up your spine.
“Oh. Um, I – I don’t know,” you stutter. 
He drops his hands and takes half a step back. “We’re not doing anything until you set the rules.”
“But–”
“This is important, cariño. I’ll give you a moment to gather your thoughts.” 
And just like that, Javi’s walking away from you and sitting on your couch. What the hell is happening here? 
He’s right, of course, damn the man. You want to be mad, but don’t know what to be mad about – how respectful he is? Letting out a deep sigh, you go back to the kitchen and pick up your glass of wine. 
“Can I get you anything to drink while you wait?” Your voice comes out a bit more caustic than intended, and the sound of Javi’s throaty chuckle from the living room makes you bristle. 
“Whatever you’re having is fine.” 
The man sounds so calm and unfazed you want to throw something at him, but instead, you pout like a grown up and pour another glass. You set it on the small end table to his left and start pacing back and forth in front of the coffee table. 
Stuck in a quandary like this, you used to be able to call Marcus up and talk it through, but that sounds as appealing as lemon juice in a paper cut right now. Besides, even if Marcus would help you get laid, he’s probably busy with his girlfriend.
Sighing, you sit down next to Javi and face him. In this position, the hem of your dress rides all the way to the top of your hip, but you’re in no mood to be modest. Javi takes a sip of his wine and turns slightly in your direction. He puts an arm along the top of the couch, and you try not to notice the way his suit jacket opens, revealing his broad chest sloping down to hint at a soft belly. His thighs splay invitingly, and you bite your bottom lip. 
“Cariño?” Javi’s eyes sparkle with mischief. 
“Right. The rules.” You set your glass of wine down and try to focus. Javi waits patiently, but you can see his fingers toying with the fabric on the back of the couch. He’s just as anxious to get this part over with.
“Rule number one: nothing at work. Ever. Not even after hours or in the parking lot. Nothing.” 
Javi nods in stout agreement. 
“Rule number two: it’s just sex. We’re simply two consenting adults with insane chemistry, privately enjoying the hell out of each other’s bodies.” 
“Enthusiastically consenting,” Javi smirks, and sets his glass of wine next to yours so he can stroke your bare thigh. The hunger in his eyes is distracting, but you manage to pull your thoughts together one last time.
“And lastly, but most importantly – rule number three: what happens undercover stays undercover.”
Javi’s hand stills on your skin and he looks at you curiously. “You mind expanding on that a bit?”
“Our cover is just that; a story, playing pretend. We don’t let it blur the lines of whatever we do outside of the investigation. We have to compartmentalize.” 
Javi takes a moment, considering what you’ve said, then nods. Looking you over, he slides his hand up to your hip and leans in, closing the space between you on the couch. 
“I guess that means we better get out of these clothes.” 
“That's a great –” You don’t even get to complete the sentence before his mouth is on yours again. In seconds, his mouth is devouring yours again, his hands feverishly roaming over your hips and ass. 
Javi takes his hands away just long enough to shrug out of his suit jacket while you make quick work of removing his tie. He tries to pull the straps of your dress down, but they get stuck on your shoulders. Grunting in frustration, his hands try locating the zipper of your dress on your back. 
You might have let him struggle a bit more simply for the fun of it, but your skin is on fire, desperate to feel more of him. 
You pull your mouth away from his long enough to gasp, “On the side. Here,” and point to the thin zipper hidden in the ruched fabric. 
“You’re lucky you said something, I was about to rip this thing off you,” Javi growls, making you giggle. “Does that amuse you, cariño? Making me suffer?”
“Maybe a little,” you admit with a small shrug, but your voice is breathless. He’s moved his mouth to your neck, where he licks a swath of skin across your fluttering pulse.
The zipper is finally down, and Javi tugs the straps of your dress and bra down at the same time, pinning your arms to your side and freeing your breasts. 
“Jesus,” he breathes, taking in your exposed flesh. He pulls you up so you’re kneeling before him on the couch, your breasts level with his face. Leaning in, he stops just shy of one pebbled nipple, his hot exhalation warming your sensitive skin. Your hands itch to grab his hair and pull him in, but the suspense is delicious. 
Javi palms your other breast and glides his thumb over the nipple, making you whimper. He lets out a strangled sound in his throat before latching his mouth onto the peaked bud in front of him, sending an electric current straight to your pulsing core. 
Your head falls back with a gasp, and Javi pulls your body closer, moaning around your nipple. Javi is too engrossed in giving your other tit the same treatment to notice you straining at the straps of your dress and bra. 
“Please,” you whimper. He pulls off your breast with a small pop and looks up at you, still massaging and caressing the flesh in each hand. His eyes are dark in the dim light of the living room, but you can see them glazed over with lust. 
Javi watches you expectantly, waiting for you to voice your request.
“Please let me touch you.” 
He smiles, giving you a small thrill. 
“You asked so nicely.”
It's not the yes you wanted, so you wait. He leans in to kiss the tops of your breasts and traces a line up your clavicle with the tip of his tongue. 
“Stand up, cariño.”
With his assistance you get up off the couch and face him, standing between his knees. The straps of your clothing are loose enough now to pull yourself free, but you wait for Javi to give his assent. He smiles softly at you from his seat on the couch, openly admiring your body on display for him. 
“Take it off,” he instructs. “Slowly.” 
You shed the form-fitting dress like a second skin, taking care to pull it down slowly and exaggerating the wiggle of your hips, before dropping it to the floor.
“The bra, too,” Javi amends, his breath coming out a bit labored. The bra joins the dress at your feet, and you kick the garments to the side, standing before Javi in only your panties. 
You love seeing that he’s just as affected as you are. He rubs sweaty palms on his pant legs, and grips the edge of the couch cushion to keep from launching himself at you. He likes this game, too.
This is the feeling you missed – letting go of all your thoughts and worries, pleasing a partner so much by obeying simple commands, trusting that partner to not take advantage of the authority you allow them to have over you. This kind of power feels intoxicating and freeing all at once. 
He lifts his hips slightly to adjust himself, and the small thrust draws your attention to his lap, your eyes widening at the clear bulge in his pants. A discoloration on the fabric, left there by your own arousal, is the only evidence of how this all started back at the gallery.
Standing there, nearly naked in front of a fully clothed man, even one with as commanding a presence as Javier Peña, doesn’t make you feel as vulnerable as you thought it might. 
“Ah ah,” Javi tuts when he sees your fingers toying at the waistband of your last scrap of clothing. He gives his hard cock a squeeze with the hand in his lap, then draws a small circle in the air with one finger. “Turn around, hermosa.” 
This is what makes you feel vulnerable, being unable to see Javi or know what he’s doing behind you. What you felt earlier when Javi stood behind you in the entryway of your apartment is nothing compared to the intensity of this moment. 
The couch creaks, and you know he’s standing behind you – is it a change in the air pressure, or the heat emanating from his core? 
Javi leaves mere centimeters separating your bodies, his breath the only sound you hear over the whooshing of your own heartbeat in your ears. Goosebumps spread again across your shoulders and down your spine, as though your skin is doing whatever it can to get closer to him. Tingles arc across your scalp, and you shut your eyes tight against the sensations your body conjures in the absence and anticipation of his touch.
The hairs on the back of your neck prickle and you flinch a bit when he gently sweeps your errant locks to the side, careful not to make contact with your skin. An elusive tickle at the shell of your ear has you tilting your head to the side. The bristle of his mustache sweeps across the tender area as he speaks, low enough to bring a tremor to your sternum. 
“Are you going to listen to me, cariño?” 
Your mouth pops open into a small ‘O’, and you nod. 
“Use your words, hermosa. I won’t tell you again.” There’s an edge in Javi’s voice, and you’re not sure if it’s the edge of authority or desperation. 
The walls of your pussy grasp around nothing, and your clit throbs in time with your pulse. Digging fingernail crescents into your palms, you make fists at your sides and curl your toes into the plush rug under your feet. 
“I–” Your mouth is dry and you swallow thickly to form the words he needs to hear. “I am. I’m going to listen to you.” 
Javi wraps an arm around your middle, pinning you to the wall of his chest, as his other hand snakes down to cup your sex over your soaked panties. The sudden contact pulls a moan from deep in your throat and the relief makes you sag against him.
“I know you will.” The murmur in your ear is soft and warm, reassuring. The hand of the arm wrapped around you cups your breast, while the other presses the heel of its palm into your mound over your clit. 
“Javi.” His name is an exhalation. “I need you.”
Your body has a mind of its own, and right now you are a slave to its impulses. Your hips move involuntarily, trying to rock into Javi’s hand, large enough to engulf your whole sex, then grind back onto his cock pressed hard against your ass. 
“I know, I know.” 
Javi’s words are both balm and incendiary. A small whine comes out of your mouth, and you press a hand over Javi’s, trying to increase the pressure over your clit.
“Mierda, cariño, you’re so eager.” He rolls your nipple between thumb and forefinger, giving it a pinch hard enough to make you gasp. “You better take me to bed, then.” 
On unsteady feet, you lead Javi to the master bedroom. Standing at the side of your bed, you feel a bit bashful and unsure of what to do with yourself.
“Sit down.” 
You obey and perch on the edge of the mattress, then wait for his next move. Javi saunters over, fingers going to his belt buckle, and stops in front of you. Your eyes flicker between his hands and his face, peering up at him through your eyelashes. 
Javi palms himself through his pants and your mouth floods with saliva. You suck your bottom lip into your mouth and bite it a little to keep from drooling. 
“So, this is it, huh?” He unbuckles the leather belt, then pulls it free from the loops around his slim waist in a single movement, catching you off guard.  
“This…what?” 
“This is your bed,” he reaches out and strokes your face, then holds your chin in his hand. “Where you let Pike fuck you.”
Abashed, you don’t answer right away, feeling the heat creep up your neck and bloom across your chest. You remember that Javi wants you to answer him, just the way Marcus did, by using your words.
“Yes, he fucked me in this bed.”
Javi strokes your chin with his thumb, then removes his hand to start unbuttoning his shirt. Your eyes glaze over slightly, your breath feels shallow. Javi’s gaze feels hot on your skin, and you can see his pulse beating on the side of his neck. 
Keeping your arms straight behind you, you put your tits on display, hoping to entice Javi to put his hands back on you. Spreading your knees apart, you want him to see the scrap of wet fabric covering your pussy. 
He lets out a deep breath through his nose that’s almost a growl, and strips his shirt completely off over his head, not bothering to finish unbuttoning it. Javi stands there, gripping his cock over his pants. 
“Show me.” His words rasp in the back of his throat.
Slowly, deliberately, you pull the gusset of your panties to the side, exposing yourself to him. Chest heaving, he doesn’t say anything for a few breaths.
“Lie down on the bed. Now.” Javi’s words have a bite to them, and you scurry to follow his command. 
You scoot backwards towards the middle of the bed, not willing to take your eyes off the man for a second. Pulling the covers back, Javi helps you locate the fitted sheet and move the comforter out of your way. He palms his dick one more time before taking off his pants, eyes glued to the apex of your thighs. 
“Take them off.”
Hooking your thumbs into the waistband, you lift your hips enough to slide your panties down, then kick them off the side of the bed. Unconsciously, your knees fall open more when Javi pulls his underwear off and you see his cock spring out of his boxers. 
Javi fists his hard length and gives it a couple strokes, precum pearling at the tip. You swallow, wishing you could take him in your mouth and taste the saltiness. 
“Touch yourself for me.” He sits on the side of the bed next to you, and his cock twitches in his hand. “Show me what makes that pretty pussy feel good, cariño.” 
Settling back on the pillows, you slide your hand over your breast and abdomen, down over your mound to your weeping center. You’ve barely touched your swollen and tender folds before you let out a whimper. 
“That’s it, querida,” Javi’s voice, filled with hunger, urges you on. 
Dipping a finger into your core, you use your own slick to glide between your lips, your breath coming out in sharp huffs. Touching the bundle of nerves at the top of your slit is like touching a live wire. Using the flat pads of two fingers, you apply gentle pressure to your clit, gliding easily now with your abundant arousal, closing your eyes from the intensity. 
A warm caress on the inside of your knee and thigh is Javi’s only touch, but it’s enough to make you moan and thrust your hips up into both your hand and his.  
“So impatient,” he remarks. His tone doesn’t match his mocking words, and you open your eyes again to see him slowly stroking his cock as he watches your fingers. 
“Javi, please.” Desperation laces your plea as you writhe into your hand, increasing the pressure on your clit. Using your other hand to play with your tits, you pinch and roll your nipples. “Please touch me.”
“Don’t stop touching yourself.” 
Javi leans over to kiss your breasts and stomach, then moves to kneel between your feet, firmly grasping the base of his cock. He lays down between your thighs, adjusting his cock so it’s pinned between his body and the mattress. 
“Please-please-please,” you whisper like a prayer. 
“You sound so sweet when you beg.” He takes your fingers off your clit and sucks them into his mouth.
You wonder if his resolve has finally cracked, because he wastes no time pushing your hand out of the way and licking a thick stripe from dripping hole to pulsing clit. 
“Fuck, Javi!” Your startled cry doesn’t deter him or slow him down, if anything it only spurs him on. He places a hand on the back of one knee and pushes your leg back, allowing his tongue easier access. The rumble of his deep, satisfied groan only adds fuel to the fire burning in the pit of your belly. 
He turns his head to kiss and nibble at your inner thigh long enough to say, “Jesus, you taste better than I imagined,” before returning to lap at the flow of your arousal. The hair on his upper lip is a sharply contrasting sensation to the thick, languid stroke of his tongue on your oversensitive flesh.
Javi’s broad shoulders under your thighs push your body up the mattress with every eager thrust of his tongue. Reaching behind you with one hand to brace against the headboard provides a bit of resistance, giving you just enough traction to bump your clit against the arch of his nose. It’s not enough, though, you need more. In vain, you try lifting your hips up to meet Javi’s face. 
A heavy arm wraps around your hip and pins you to the mattress. Whining in frustration, you look down to see Javi’s eyes trained on your face. Those large, dark orbs are fixed in a determined glare. Seeing them look up at you from between your thighs is a sight to behold.
Feeling bold, but mostly curious, you tentatively reach down and thread the fingers of your other hand through Javi’s thick hair. His eyes almost flutter closed for a moment, and the hand holding your leg back eases. You keep the knee bent, though, holding yourself open for him. 
Jaw slack, you watch transfixed as Javi captures your clit between his lips that are wet and shiny with your own slick. He circles his tongue around the engorged bud, the very tip sliding gently under the hood and making your hips spasm up to his face, again and again.
Panting, eyes squeezed shut, you focus on the feeling of his tongue, bordering on too much. With Javi’s hair clutched in one fist, you cling with the other to the slats of the headboard and undulate up against his plump lips. 
A thick finger prods gently at your opening, moving around to get the tip wet. Javi’s lips and tongue never leave your clit, and you resist the urge to pull his head into you by his hair, scared he’ll stop if you do.
The finger slips in, stopping at the first knuckle. 
“You want me to fuck you, cariño?” Javi’s voice is rough. “Is that what you want?” 
“Uh huh.” It comes out with a moan as the finger slips in all the way. “Hnh, shit…yes – yes, I want you to fuck me. Please fuck me.” The rest of the words tumble from your mouth.
“Then I’ve got to get you nice and ready for my cock.” He returns to giving your clit the attention it craves. Javi’s finger starts pumping in and out, stretching your walls around its thickness. 
“Fuck...fuck,” you curse and moan in time with each thrust. The beginnings of your orgasm begin to unfurl deep inside.
Javi keeps moving his finger in and out of you until it’s sliding without resistance, then starts teasing your entrance with the tip of a second. With his other hand, he spreads your lips and holds you open. 
“Christ, would you look at that?” You open your eyes to see Javi watching his two fingers sink into you, drawing out a moan from deep in your belly. “Fucking beautiful. Can’t wait to watch my cock split you open like this.”
You let go of Javi’s hair to grip the pillow under your head. You’re lifting your hips up in time to meet every thrust of his thick fingers. 
You can’t tell what’s more obscene, the sounds coming from your mouth or from between your legs. Turning your face into the pillow, you try to muffle some of your moans.
“Don’t cover your mouth, baby. I want to hear every fucking sound you make.” 
“But,” you gasp, trying to form the words, “neighbors…” 
“I want them to hear how good I make you feel, too.” He keeps his fingers buried to the knuckle inside you and crooks them just right, making you arch your back and moan. 
“Thaaat’s it, let me hear you.” Tension coils, your pussy clenching down on the continuous movement of his fingers pumping and curling.��
“Relax for me, cariño. I’ll never fit my cock inside you if you keep squeezing my fingers like that.” 
The filth spilling from his mouth has got you wound up so tight, it’s a wonder he can still move his fingers at all. He sucks your clit back between his lips, but your hips are bucking so hard he can’t keep a good hold on it. Instead, he drips saliva at the top of your slit, then spreads it with his thumb, around and around, letting your rolling hips determine the pace and pressure.
“Javi,...I’m–fuck, I’m getting close.” 
“Is this how he got you ready? Hm? Would he make you cum first on his fingers and tongue?” 
“Wha– unh, god.” What the fuck is he saying? Your mind is so fuzzy, the pleasure leaving almost no room for thought or reason.
“I bet he would. I bet he’d get you nice and wet, then work you open for his cock.” 
He’s asking about Marcus again, you realize. You feel the mattress shift and realize Javi’s rutting into the mattress in time with your hips. Knowing how turned on Javi is, it’s almost enough to tip you over the edge right then. 
“Yes, he– he made me cum first.” 
“Hard?” 
“Yes! God, Javi, that feels so good – please don’t stop.” You’re white-knuckling the pillow and headboard, getting closer to the edge, the pleas falling from your lips without thought. 
“He must have been something, for you to still be hung up on him. Still hungry for his cock.” 
Javi spits again, more lewdly this time in his excitement, and increases the pressure of his thumb over your clit.
“Fuck, I feel it – I know you’re getting close, cariño.” Javi’s hips keep rocking into the mattress. “Are you going to cum for me?”
Your breath comes out in gasps, you can only nod in response, eyes shut tight. 
“That’s it, hermosa, cum for me.” Javi’s words have you teetering on the edge. “Cum for me so I can give you my cock.”
With that final push, your fluttering walls spasm and pulse around Javi’s fingers, and he works you through it, groaning as he watches you writhing on his hand. 
Javi doesn’t even let the final shudders or your orgasm subside before he’s licking your cum off his fingers like an indulgent dessert. He gives your mound a kiss, then your belly, ribs, and breasts, getting on his knees between your thighs and leaning over you, murmuring praise in a heady mixture of English and Spanish.
“That was so good, cariño, you were so good. Eres tan bonita, y sabes pinche dulce.” Leaning on one elbow, he traces your lips with the fingers that were inside you. 
“Have you ever tasted yourself?” You nod, opening your mouth and licking the tip of one finger. Javi slips it past your lips, he lets out a sigh and says, “I’m going to have a lot of fun with that mouth.” 
Moaning, you begin sucking eagerly at his fingers, showing him what he could look forward to. He fucks them into your mouth a few times before pulling them out, much to your disappointment. 
“Another time, cariño. I need to be in that sweet pussy now.” 
Javi kisses you deeply, the taste of your cum mingling on your tongues. His mustache is wet with your slick, and you run the tip of your tongue along the ridge of his upper lip, the hairs tickling. He shudders and pulls away with a low grunt.
“Condoms?” Is all he can get out in between ravishing your neck and breasts with kisses.
“Drawer.” You gesture weakly to your nightstand, running your fingers through his hair. He stretches to pull the drawer open and pulls out the unopened box of condoms you’ve had there since you moved into the apartment.
“A brand new box, just for me?” His tone is teasing as he sits back on his knees. He tears the box open and rips off a condom from the strip, tossing the rest back in the drawer. 
“Um–” You get distracted watching him fist his cock. With a clearer head after your orgasm, you finally have the wherewithal to notice he’s thick and uncut. Biting your bottom lip, you think about how much fun you’ll have with him in your hands and mouth once he gives you the chance.
“Cariño?” Javi fixes you with an authoritative eye that makes your stomach flip. 
“It’s not new, exactly. I just haven’t needed to open it yet.” 
He looks at you curiously, and you start feeling a bit anxious. 
“Are you telling me you haven’t had sex since you moved here?” 
Letting out an exasperated sigh, you say, “It’s not like I haven’t tried.” 
Feeling a bit self-conscious, you look away and pull your knees together slightly. Javi’s hand on your thigh stops you. His eyes have softened.
Javi settles between your thighs, bracing himself while he leans down and kisses you slowly. His chest is firm under your hands, and the steady beat of his heart feels grounding. He places light kisses along your jaw up to your ear.
“The last time you had a cock inside you,” he pauses to take a breath, “was with Pike?” 
You give a small nod, both of you breathing so heavily your chests press into one another on inhalation. Javi pulls back to look at you, his eyes shifting between yours and keeping you in focus. 
“Can I fuck you bare, cariño?” 
He’s not asking this lightly, and you know without him having to say that he will gladly accept whatever is your decision. You clench at the prospect of feeling all of Javi inside you and nod vigorously.
“Yes.” 
Javi kisses you deeply and holds your face in one hand, pressing his forehead to yours. 
“Thank you for trusting me,” he murmurs against your lips, his voice deep and a bit rough. You know he’s trusting you just as much.
You continue to kiss, your hands running across his shoulders and upper back, then into his hair again. He groans into your mouth as you stroke your fingers through his thick locks. 
You tilt your hips and spread your legs a bit wider, opening yourself up for him. Balancing himself on one arm, he guides the head of his cock between your folds, then slides it slowly up and down a few times, gathering your slick. You’re so wet, he’ll have no trouble entering you.
“Javi...” 
“I know, I know.” Javi presses the head of his cock at your entrance and groans. “Are you ready to take my cock, cariño?” 
He sits back on his knees to watch your response, his breath short and labored from holding back when you know all he wants is to plunge all the way inside you with one thrust. You roll your hips up, moaning as the tip of his swollen cock head nudges inside you. Javi grunts and pulls back a bit, gripping onto your hip. 
“Fuck, look at you – you can’t wait to feel my cock filling you up.” 
“Please, Javi. Please give me your cock. I need it,” you beg breathlessly. 
“That’s my girl, tell me what you need,” Javi soothes his hand over your flesh, rocking his hips forward and slipping just an inch inside you, then back out. In and out, until the head is fully inside.
“I need your cock.” He pushes a bit more inside you each time he rocks his hips, caressing your belly and breasts with his other hand. “I need you to fuck me with your cock.” 
“You’re still so tight, baby.” Javi huffs through flared nostrils, gritting his teeth, barely holding himself back.
“Javi, please–” Your whine chokes off with a sob as he plunges forward with a grunt.
“Fuuuuuck,” he rasps, pulling out half way, then burying himself fully in your cunt. “Is that what you needed, cariño?” He thrusts, watching his cock disappearing inside you again. 
“Yes,” you whisper, letting your head fall back limply onto the pillow.
“Are you happy now that you have my cock?” Javi’s keeping his thrusts slow, but full and deep. He’s breathing heavily from his pent up lust, still not fully letting himself go. 
“Yes.” The stretch of him inside you was mind numbing.  
“I knew you’d be good at taking my cock, baby. You’re opening up so well for me.” Javi hooks one of your legs over his arm. “You ready for me to really fuck you now?” 
“Yes, Javi – fuck me, please.” 
Javi’s hips start picking up their pace, snapping forward to fill your pussy. For a few moments, you and Javi are lost to the sensations, moaning in unison every time he bottoms out inside you.
“You feel so good wrapped around my cock, hermosa.” His grip on the leg over his arm tightens. You pull your other leg back, allowing him even deeper and he swears. “I can feel your pussy sucking me in.” 
He leans over, holding himself up with a hand beside your head. The change in the angle makes you gasp and clench around him.
“Mírame – look at me, cariño.” 
Javi is a vision above you with his forehead furrowed and mouth open. 
“What did he call you?” He slows his thrusts. “Hm? What did Pike call you when he was fucking you?” 
You look at him with wide eyes, mouth agape. He smiles, and slows almost to a stop. 
“Dimelo…” He grinds his hips into you, making you whine. “Tell me – now.” 
“I was his good girl.” Your pussy walls contract involuntarily with your confession, making Javi moan. 
“Fuck,” he starts thrusting again, “I bet you were so good for him. Were you?” 
“Yes. Yes, I was his good girl.” Javi moves the leg over his arm up to his shoulder, holding onto it for leverage as he fucks into you. 
“And what did you call him when you were his good girl?” His words come out a bit unevenly. Javi waits for your response, but you’re distracted by how deep his cock is. 
A swift but light slap lands on your tit. “Answer me.” 
You gasp, but he has your attention now, rolling your nipple between his thumb and forefinger.
“I called him Sir.”  
“Mierda, you’re drenching my cock right now. I bet you’re thinking about how his cock felt in your tight pussy, how it filled and stretched you.” 
“Oh, god–” You brace your arms over your head, using the headboard for resistance against the onslaught of Javi’s thrusts. 
Thoughts of Marcus and Javi swim together, the memory of Marcus’ touch with the reality of Javi’s. The walls of your pussy begin to flutter as your second orgasm of the night starts to build. 
Javi’s heavy breathing is surpassed by the sound of his thighs and balls slapping against your ass with every thrust. 
“Well, if you were his good girl, then you’re my slutty little princesa. You’re my little whore. Me entiendes?” 
“Yes, yes – I understand.” Your eyes are practically rolling into the back of your head when you feel Javi suddenly stop and pull out. Gasping, your eyes fly open in shock. He’s panting, and his neck glistens, flushed a beautiful shade of crimson with the veins prominently standing out. 
“Roll over – c’mon, on your knees.” You obey, desperate to have his cock buried in you once again. 
“Hands up here, flat.” He taps the headboard. His commands are light and natural, easy to follow. 
“If you’re going to be my little whore, I’m going to fuck you like one.” 
Assuming the position, Javi uses a knee to nudge your shaking legs wider, then pulls your ass back so you’re bent slightly over. 
“So what are you going to call me, huh?” He smooths your hair back off your face, sweaty at your temples, and gathers it loosely in his fist. He gives it a gentle tug, prompting you to answer his question.
“I don’t know,” you gasp, and arch into his touch as he smoothes a hand over your ass. He guides his cock and slides back into your cunt in a single thrust, making the headboard sway close to the wall. 
“I said keep your hands flat,” he reminds you, and gives your ass a small smack for good measure. 
Your fingers flex, and you spread them wide, straightening your elbows for balance. His free hand fondles your breasts one at a time, kneading them before pinching your nipples. 
“C’mon, princesa,” he urges, voice low behind your ear as he starts fucking you again. Your head gets tugged back by your hair in his fist at the nape of your neck as he fucks you harder. The angle of his cock hits that sweet spot inside you, making your eyes roll back. 
“What are you going to call me when I’m fucking you like my little slut?” His hot tongue licks over your pulse point. The filthy words spilling out of his mouth are making you dizzy. “Huh? When I’m pounding this pussy so good, you can’t fucking help yourself?” 
“Daddy.” 
It comes out in a soft, timid whimper. 
Javi smacks your ass with a stinging hand and growls in your ear, “Louder.” 
“Daddy!” 
“Theeere it fucking is.” Javi groans deeply in satisfaction, then licks his fingers and rubs them over your clit in time with his thrusts. “What a good little whore, taking Daddy’s cock so well.” 
He lets go of your hair to grip your shoulder where it meets your neck, pulling you back onto his cock. There is no way your neighbors can’t hear the noises coming from your mouth now. You’ve completely surrendered over to Javi, and you’re certain that if he were to take his hands away you’d fall over lifeless like a doll. 
“Daddy, I’m close.” 
The intensity of Javi’s hands, cock, and filthy mouth is so overwhelming, you can barely get the words out.
“Are you going to cum on Daddy’s cock, princesa?” Javi’s voice is ragged, his hips stuttering. 
“Imagine what he’d say – unh – if he saw you like this – absolutely wrecked, being someone else’s fuck toy.” 
He must be getting close too as his cock throbs inside you, his pace faltering.
The thought of Marcus watching you get railed by Javi has you on the very brink. You can’t hold back the moans now and Javi increases the pressure and speed of his fingers over your clit. Your cunt spasms, and his cock throbs in response.
“Mierda, you’re choking my dick. Damelo, princesa – give it to me, cum for Daddy.”
Your orgasm rips through you like a freight train, all while Javi talks and fucks you through it. 
“Fuuuck, yes – that’s it, cum all over Daddy’s cock. You’re squeezing me so tight.” 
Javi’s thrusts slow during your most intense spasms, and the fingers on your clit still, but maintain their pressure. You ride it out, reaching back to stroke Javi’s hair while you spasm around him.
Your head begins to loll a bit, exhaustion setting in after the two mind-melting orgasms. He wraps his arms around you, then slowly lowers your upper body onto the mattress, draping his body over yours. You hug a pillow to your chest, supporting yourself while he starts fucking into you, slow and deep. 
“What a good little slut.” He grunts softly in your ear each time his cock bottoms out inside you, fucking little whimpers out of you with every thrust.
“So good for Daddy.” Javi kisses your neck and the back of your shoulder. “You took Daddy’s cock so well, gonna give you my cum.” He’s beginning to get a bit breathless, his thighs shaking, thrusts getting erratic. 
In this position, you’re able to reach a hand back and spread your fingers on either side of his cock as it moves. A bit further, and you’re grazing his balls every so lightly and feel them beginning to tighten and retract. 
“Unh – fuck, yeah…” Javi groans through gritted teeth, then nips lightly at your shoulder making you gasp.
“Daddy, please cum for me. I want your cum. Please give it to me.” 
You’re babbling, your senses focused solely on the sound of Javi’s labored breathing, the feel of his cock twitching inside you, chasing that high with him. 
“Where do you want Daddy’s cum, princesa?” His words are strained now. He rises back up onto his knees, supporting himself with a hand between your shoulder blades.
“Anywhere you want, Daddy.” You contract the walls of your cunt around him for emphasis and he moans.
“Fuck, baby, don’t tempt me, I’m so close… But I think I want something else.” He grabs the globes of your ass with both hands, squeezing them, pulling them apart to see everything. 
“You ever let Pike fuck your ass?” 
You involuntarily clench around Javi. You and Marcus had certainly discussed it, experimented a little, but he’d never fucked you there.
“No...” 
“Mmm, good. Then I’m gonna paint that ass with my cum. Esta cosa es mía ahora. It’s fucking mine.”  
Eyes wide, you stretch your neck to watch Javi over your shoulder as he starts fucking you at a frenetic pace. His face, neck, and chest are flushed and gleaming with sweat. His brow is furrowed deep in concentration, teeth bared into a grimace. He lands a rough slap on your ass that makes you moan.
“Yes, Daddy – my ass is yours, only yours.” 
“That’s right, princesa – all mine,” he wheezes. 
Just when you think he’s about to burst inside you, Javi pulls out and starts furiously jerking his cock. Thick ropes of cum land in stripes across your ass and lower back, each spasm pulling a deep, breathy moan from him. He takes deep gulps of air into his lungs, milking every last drop of cum. 
Clenching around nothing, you moan with the pleasure of bringing him to release. You’re secretly thrilled at seeing Javi brought to this degree of vulnerability. 
Javi leans over and licks a small drop of cum that landed on the swell of your cheek. He bites the flesh then sucks, letting go with a pop. It’s done without inhibition or hesitation, just an impulsive, erotic claim of your body.
“Next time, princesa,” he pauses to smear the pooling cum lightly over your asshole, “I’m going to watch that beautiful face when I make you cum on Daddy’s cock.”
“Mm, I’d like that,” you say softly, and close your eyes, the adrenaline waning. Staying still for a moment, you take a deep breath, enjoying the familiar, empty ache between your thighs that can only come after an amazing fuck. 
You start to lower your legs to lie in a prone position, but Javi wraps his arms around you as support, lowering you gently to the mattress. 
“I’ve got you, cariño.” 
You’re vaguely aware of Javi stepping into the en suite bathroom and returning with a warm wet washcloth. He gently wipes you clean and fixes the covers. 
A few moments later, you feel the mattress shift as he climbs into bed next to you. Strong arms pull you into a warm embrace. A light kiss to your forehead tickles with the soft hairs of Javi’s mustache.
Sighing, you roll your body against his, resting your head on his shoulder and draping an arm across his chest. He smooths your hair off your forehead and brushes a soft kiss to your head, stroking your arm. With the steady rise and fall of Javi’s chest, the last thing you remember before drifting off is his whispered, “Sweet dreams, cariño.”
~*~*~*~
Javi doesn’t even crave a cigarette. And he can’t remember the last time he stuck around this long after sleeping with someone. Once you fall asleep in his arms, he doesn't want to risk waking you, and there is no way in hell he’s going to sneak out on you. 
He reasons that he’ll relax for a bit, then wake you up to say goodbye. But the feel of you in his arms is better than he let himself indulgently imagine these past few weeks. The softness of your curves, the weight of your head on his shoulder; the implicit trust you placed in him this evening, and the ease with which you fell asleep with him holding you… 
It doesn’t take long for him to fall asleep too. At some point in the night he stirs, and realizes you’re out of bed, but doesn’t know what time it is. The apartment is dark now, and the only light comes peeking out from the bottom of the bathroom door. Groaning, he stretches his legs, knowing the soreness in his knees will plague him for the next couple days. 
The light in the bathroom flicks off and the door opens, creaking a little. Your nude form appears, lit only by the ambient light coming through the window from the streetlamps. You pad softly across the carpet and he whispers a soft, “Hey,” so you know he’s awake. You jump just slightly then smile in relief. 
“Hey, yourself,” you whisper in return, then walk to the other side of the bed and climb in. 
“What time is it?” Javi rolls to face you and props his head on his hand. 
“Late – or early, depending on how you look at it.” 
Javi leans over to kiss your lips, then your forehead, trailing the tip of his nose down yours. You hum in that way he’s already familiar with, making him smile. 
“How late-or-early?” 
“Three-ish.” You kiss him, muffling his surprise. 
“Shit, I didn’t mean to fall asleep that long. Sorry.” Javi is about to make his excuses to leave, before you speak again.
“We better go back to sleep now. The debrief is early and I want to get up in time to bring something in for the team.” 
Yawning, you roll away from him and drag his arm around you. Javi smirks, and settles in to spoon your body with his own.
“I guess I don’t need to ask what your rule is about sleeping over, then?” He kisses the back of your shoulder and you press back into him.
“Shut up and go to sleep, Javi.”
“Okay, cariño.”
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Chapter 9 - Coming Soon!
Additional Author’s Note: Thank you, thank you, THANK YOU for all the lovely comments and reblogs! I can’t tell you how much they mean to me. As always, I would love-love-love to know what you think. I really want to become a better writer, so any and all feedback is welcome! Thank you for reading! 💜
No-Pressure Taglist: @kilamonster @half-moon16 @for-a-longlongtime @pedroswife69 @pedroshotwifey @angiewatson @morallyinept @peepawispunk @i-wanna-be-your-muse @marysucks-blog @guelyury @connectioneverywhere @sunshinehaze1 @drewharrisonwriter @venturawriter @survivingandenduring @thetriumphantpanda
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murdrdocs · 7 months
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INTERVIEW 004
with. theo raeken
includes. manipulation, fem!reader, fingering, implied reader x stiles
→ kinktober masterlist
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He stalks towards her with intention. His eyes narrowed, the lights that tower over them in the parking lot reflecting within them, brightening them to clearly display the knowing mischief within the green. They’re trained completely on her, not even focused on their surroundings one bit. He has a mission, tunnel vision, solely focused on his goal directly in front of him, anything else completely irrelevant. 
Meanwhile, her eyes are skittish, nervously looking for an escape route. It surrounds her, the night providing the possible getaway she might need, ready to swallow her up if she gathered the courage to attempt to slip away. 
He’s noticing her tense body, it amuses him, lips lifting at the corners the closer he gets. His body is completely opposite of hers, completely opened and ready to take her in. Unguarded. Relaxed from head to toe. 
The height he has over her has never seemed substantial until now, when she feels as if she’s craning her neck to look at him when in reality it’s merely the tension behind her jugular that makes her feel this way. 
The difference in muscle mass between them increases her nerves tenfold. She can’t help but notice the defined muscular stature of him when he’s wearing a tight black tee, the shoulders of it a little wet from the once steady drizzle that has ceased completely. Almost as if the world has stopped around them, waiting with baited breath to see what he’s going to do to her. 
When he speaks, she barely hears it, the thunder of her heart echoing throughout her body at a volume that drowns everything else out. 
“There’s no need to be afraid. You know that, right?” He takes another step closer and she takes one back. “I’m not nearly as bad as they make me seem.” 
She wants to differ. To challenge his spoken promise with facts that she knows to be true, occurrences that directly prove him wrong, in the same way that the others would. But the fright of the moment glues her tongue to the top of her mouth, preventing her from saying anything at all. Leaving her at his mercy to sweet talk her to death. 
He seems to intend to do just that if the way he hungirly eyes her is anything to go by. She starts to imagine the things he would do to her, the ways he could tear her down to her wits end, but somewhere along the lines her fears twist from Theo sticking his claws through her stomach to Theo using his hands in a far more pleasurable way between her legs. 
She blinks, startled by her own thoughts, and begins to attempt to pull herself out of the neverending pit that the image opens up. Before she can even begin the climb out, Theo shoves her back down. 
Too busy with her internal struggle, she hadn’t noticed him approaching her until his hand is against her cheek. She finches at first, and then when her eyes meet his, they’re softer, less calculating, encouraging her to melt in his touch instead of freeze. 
“The real reason you don’t have to be afraid is because I’d never hurt you.” It’s simple, barely any real assurances in the empty promise, but there’s something about someone she was explicitly warned against presenting as the opposite. Something about the juxtaposition but at this point she’s too mentally drained to continue to think. 
Instead, she listens to him. 
“You know I’d treat you well, right? Better than he could.” 
Sensing her surprise, he smirks, knowing he’s gotten her where he wants her. 
He continues. 
“Yeah, I know about that little crush you’re harboring deep inside of you. You get off to the thought of him, don’t you? What, every night? Riding your pillow pretending it’s him. Using your own fingers and imagining how much bigger his would be.” The grip on her cheek gets tighter. He’s keeping her in place. 
“I can give you that, you know. I can make you feel good, better than you’ve ever felt. And you know what, if you want, I'll let you pretend I'm him. Just for a night. How ‘bout that? Hm?”
There’s something about the confidence, the assured way he speaks as he knows he’s right, that seduces her into standing on her toes and pressing her lips to his. 
She expects an initial moment of shock, for Theo to resist or pull back in repulsion. Instead, he instantly feeds in like he’s been planning this the entire time. 
And with the way he slides a hand down her torso, cupping her mound under her small skirt, she concludes that he was planning this. 
His fingers push her panties to the side, two thick digits pressing against her center and separating her lips. And as he slides the first finger into her entrance, she decides that she doesn’t mind being a clear pawn in his game.
Not when being a pawn brings her to laying her head on his chest, clawing at his muscles that bulge against his shirt as he brings her to an orgasm from his fingers alone. 
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thinkingotherwise · 13 days
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Kyotaro Sugishita x Talkative! reader
Requested by: @ejtheoneandonly Sugishita with an s/o who is social and talkative. Her conversation skills are almost expert (youcanputgnifyouwant). S/O knows Sugishita is not talkative but she mentions she is happy by his sole presence and she appreciates that he listens. (If you need height then s/o is 1.62-).
He's such an awkward cutie, he deserves all the love 💕💜
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There were times when some of your friends or his would ask if you felt good having a quiet and distanced boyfriend. Hearing such words you always told them that Kyo is the best boyfriend you could ask for. Praising him, saying that even though he's not talkative you can always count on him to listen to you talking his ears off. And not only that, you noticed, at the beginning of your relationship, that he listened to everything you said, sometimes asking questions and letting you ramble on even more, because he noticed it made you happy.
Sugishita really liked your rambling, even though it seemed like no one else but you knew it. He liked how your voice filled the silence around him and he would be lying if he said that he didn't appreciate you talking over Sakura and other first years whenever they had to meet up at Kotoha's Café Pothos with Umemiya and some other Bofurin members.
You always sat near Kyotaro and talked with him, or more like to him. Because your stories were neverending, only sometimes cut in by little words and confirmations from him.
And whenever Kyotaro stood near you while you were raving about him, he got the necessary affirmation that yeah, he really did like you and all of your talkative self.
You were both at the rooftop of Furin High School as Umemiya asked your boyfriend to take care of some of the plants. And as soon as he informed you that he had to go there you told him you'll accompany him just to spend more time in his presence.
It came even to situations where Kyotaro was getting addicted to your presence and your voice. And lack of you was causing him some slight discomfort.
Like during your last meeting.
".. and he got rid of him, just like that. Can you believe it?" You ranted about one of the more popular shows.
You were sitting on one of the nearby crates while Kyotaro was pulling out the weeds. You wanted to help him with that but he told you that you were still wearing your school uniform and he didn't want you to get dirty.
Your tirade was cut off only when you had to go to the toilet and while you disappeared behind the doors leading to the staircase Kyotaro stayed finishing his work.
"Mhm." He hummed in reply sending you a quick glance from behind his shoulder and went back to weeding the garden.
You nodded to yourself and continued on with your rambling.
"Yes, and it's not only me, who thinks that, the whole internet said.." And your voice continued to echo through the roof garden.
The silence you left behind was making him a little uncomfortable. He really got used to you chatting all the time and it dawned on him that when your person was gone he started feeling it so much. Lacking your presence and your talkative self so much.. he really got addicted to you.
Your eyes didn't leave him and he could feel it. When his gaze finally met yours he saw the face you were making as if telling him "Really?", because somehow after all the time you spent together, you could read him so well you knew what he felt even though he didn't say it out loud.
Thankfully, you came back quickly and Sugishita turned to you stepping closer in your direction. He took off his gloves and his height let him tower over you.
"Took you long enough." He said his voice monotone but him saying it at all made you smile.
"Oh, did Kyo miss me and my stories that keep him entertained?" You replied teasingly.
"No." He stared at you before quickly turning around and putting the gloves back in their place in the shed.
The two of you continued to work side by side with your neverending stories and information flowing in the background.
"Maybe." Kyotaro muttered and was rewarded by your big smile.
"Well then, hand me the watering can. I'll indulge you in my talkativeness and help you finish it quicker so we can go home."
You decided and he handed you the needed equipment. You filled it with water and started watering the plants while he collected the weeds and threw them away.
-------
Tags: @misticbullet
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galaxy-mermaid-musi · 2 years
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Snapped (part 3)
@givethispromptatry @sebsterianart @creweemmaeec11 @undeadnotunreasonable
What's this? Two in a day? And linked to the other parts properly???? Who am I anymore?
Part 1 , Part 2
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Somewhere in the upper city...
"I've almost got xem! With just a bit more time, I'm sure-"
Stellaris flinched as the committee leader slammed his glass on the table.
"You've almost had them for months now!"
The committee mumbled agreement, but quieted at his glare.
"We hired you because you were noted as one of the best!" He sighed, "But I guess they were wrong..."
"I'm trying!"
"Trying and succeeding are two different things, Stellaris. Or should I say Jules?"
They paled. How had-?
As if answering their unsaid question, he continued, "I have my ways. And you haven't been entirely devoted to this job."
They were about to speak up-
"How could you be? With you working as a desk clerk on the side!" He circled his drink around, "What was the name of that gym again? Define N Refine?"
"I'll redouble my efforts! Then-"
"Oh I'm sure you will." He grinned, "Did you know that gym owner is a friend of mine?"
"Really?"
A laugh, "Yes, really. I can make sure you don't get fired while you look for the energy thief... but, I'm gonna need some assurance."
Stellaris felt the pause this time, not even opening their mouth to ask.
"You see, my friend has been looking into new business ventures. They just haven't saved up enough to quite afford the next step.-" they took a sip of their drink- "However, that gym is one of their less profitable endeavors. I'm sure with a little push, they'd be willing to give it up! After all they can afford the revenue loss, and the sale of the property would give them just the boost they need to start their next venture!"
"But the people who work there would be out of jobs!"
They'd walked right into his trap.
"That is a shame..." he mused, "But I haven't given the idea yet! And I might not have to... if you find the culprit in time and bring them in."
They froze. "How much time?"
"Considering all that you've wasted... I'd say a month." He leaned back. "I hope you won't disappoint us again. I do so hate a no return investment."
Stellaris felt the eyes of the entire committee on them.
"Of course not."
"You're dismissed."
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Another normal day for Max.
Or, at least it would have been normal if there wasn't a different person at the counter to check xim into the gym.
"You're all set!" The lady replied with a smile too wide to be genuine.
"Thanks.." xir curiosity got the better of xim, "What happened to the person who's usually here?"
"Jules?"
Xe nodded.
She seemed surprised, "They're on leave for a month. Family stuff, though they didn't tell me exactly what."
"Oh." Xe paused, "Send my best regards, if you talk to them again."
She gave a knowing look, "Sure will. Enjoy your workout!"
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He did not. Please tell me he did not. Please tell me he. did. NOT
edit: okay, whew
edit 2: nope. i was wrong
(mdni)
Clavis made Emma (what I can only see as being) a sex-doll of himself?!
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edit: I still haven't finished reading, so it could turn out to be a completely chaste, lifelike Clavis doll that he just happened to gift her at the height of her sexual frustration after mysteriously claiming that he had exactly the thing she needed...
edit 2: it seems to just be a regular bodypillow that very closely resembles Clavis. Okay. Whew. Lmao.
edit 3: LMAO OH HOW NAIVE I WAS. he prepared the clavis doll as a way for emma to relieve her tensions from going so long without being intimate. it's a deeply thoughtful gift but also, i think, a test? because he was super-frustrated and blue-balling by this point too and was just waiting for emma to initiate? that's my interpretation, but i could of course be hilariously wrong as i've been throughout this entire post. this is why i should read to the end first lol.
...Is this only the SWEET END? WHAT THE FUCK IS HE GOING TO PULL IN THE PREMIUM END!?
There's a neverending war between him and Gilbert for who is the most ABSOLUTELY FUCKING BONKERS in the bedroom. They're both winning for different reasons.
Thank the living god that Gilbert is so wildly jealous that he'd never put any replica or doll or whatever in his place 😭🥹🙏 I never thought I'd be grateful for Gilbert's jealousy but here we are. Things could always be worse XD (or better if this is your cup of tea)
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Could you do Yandere Neige realizing his newborn doesn’t like him and it’s not just their baby missing Y/N?
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Yandere Neige Leblanche | With A Baby Who Hates Him
The nursemaid winces at another primal twang in the child’s wail as she finished packing her things. Looking sympathetically at the actor she couldn’t help but pity him. 
It must be hard losing the love of your life during such a stressful time, she thought letting herself be escorted out by the dwarven bodyguards. 
The actor frowned at the infant in his arms continuing to wail into the night. Neige Leblanche didn’t do that often. Before now he had no reason not to smile; everything had gone his way. He married the love of his life, supported them, even had this child with them; not to mention his soaring career. Granted in the reaches of his mind he can recall his love’s…complaints. 
“Shhh Shhh, sleep my love sleep. Please.”
If it were possible the infant’s cries increased and the smile he had been shining down upon the bundle was beginning to quiver. His pale hands shook with the constant contorting of a baby’s face as the crying continued. He set them down; pulling his hands away as the tiny hands swiped at his. 
What had he done to deserve this? He thought, tilting his head as he watched the beady (e/c) irises squinting without tear-ducts. Ruminating to the howling soundtrack he found no answer until that letter came to mind:
"It’s Your Fault"
The scathing letter—your last letter would forever be etched into his mind. A reminder of the complaints that riddled their speech.
“ Just let me go.”
It was something they said often despite the reality. Therapists in agreement all could testify that Neige Leblanche would never do such a thing; as he had testified many times before. His love was hysterical but that was no obstacle for his affection. Thus he withstood their complaints even though the world was in agreement with him. 
He was a good man. The perfect man. Or so they said–because his love continued to protest. They were insistent that he was a monster and that he had drove their “friends” away. For which he had, on the defense that they were delinquents and they were. What friends kidnap one another and require police intervention? Not good ones, that’s for sure. Alas he could never blame you, even he could be fooled by who he thought was a friend. Under the conviction of his fanbase he discovered the violent tendencies of a coworker he once held dear. 
He reached for his child again. Pulling him into his chest only to be stopped by the persistent miniature hands. Pushing at his chest, Neige couldn’t help but be reminded of the one who did the same gesture.
“Stay away from me!”
 Now he could recall where he’d felt this rejection. Where he grew used to hands pushing at his chest and neverending protests. Only now could he recall the tears shed in the height of hysteria as he withheld his intervention. Thosed loved hands continuing to swat at him—they always did even as Neige united with them under the watchful eye of the concerned public. It never ended. A constant barrage of pain through insult and injury. Relentlessly fighting against the love of their life, they only stopped when they died. 
But why? Why? Why was this child the same? At barely a year this baby is trying to reject him just like you. What caused this? Your absence? His presence? Even in the solitude of the nursemaid and dwarves the child was still crying, reaching for something beyond. Could it have been you? Reaching back to him to say something. 
Than why this? Why must he watch helpless as the only survivor of the love-of-his-life starves themselves into an early grave. Neige couldn’t find a reason as to why he must be pained so…only vaguely thinking of his actions as the cause. 
Unaware of the way he smothered those similar protests with his rose-tinted view. Led the way for the wolves to tear and break down his adversaries–he claimed he never had. Letting screams of isolation go through one ear and out the other; as he was justified in his actions. A cycle of injustice had been built and Neige was completely oblivious to his true role. 
So now he could only shed tears at this travesty.
Completely unaware that this was his punishment and he was going to serve every second of it.
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