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#relentless suitor
ybon-paramoux · 4 months
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The Persistent Suitor - Tom Bagshaw
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spacepunksupreme · 2 years
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Thinking about the girl in high school who took candid photos of me (with a real camera not even with her phone??) without my permission then used one to paint a portrait of me in a dress and tiara which she then gifted to me as like a declaration of love or something
I think I wouldve realized I was gay earlier if all the girls I hung out with weren’t mean to me or insane lolol
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lazyjellyfish300 · 3 months
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The Woman He Didn't Choose 🌹
AU Bachelor Miguel O'Hara x Fem contestant reader
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Synopsis: You went on a dating show just for kicks and giggles but faceplant when Miguel is the Bachelor. You made the final two, but he didn't choose you. Angst ensues.
A/N: I started the new season of The Bachelor and it got me thinking, what if Miguel was The Bachelor 😏😏 and what if it ended badly??!! 😫🤗 I'm thinking of using this as a segue into a new series where it'd be like Bachelor in Paradise where you're a contestant along with Spider-Verse favs like Peter B. Ben, Felicia, MJ, Jess. And there could be a lotta smut 😇 and I might bring Miguel back somehow 🤭let me know what you think.😝
If you're unfamiliar with the TV show The Bachelor, usually the finale is aired live, and the live audience watches the footage of the proposal/rejection of the runner up together and then brings the contestants back out to interview them on stage. Here's an example of what I pictured in my head.. ALSO please listen to the song at the beginning it's literally the PERFECT break up song for Miguel. 😫 Word count 4.6k
DISCLAIMER: I have changed the name of the show for copyright purposes, I don't own or have rights to the TV show The Bachelor and all credit goes to the rightful owners.
TW: ANGST, BREAKUP, SELF DOUBT, GASLIGHTING, INSECURITY, JEALOUSY, MENTIONS CYBER BULLYING ,MENTION OF SEX BUT NO SMUT, DESCRIPTION OF TWO PEOPLE MAKING OUT
Part 2 , Part 3, Part 4, Part 5
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The camera pans to you sitting on a green velvet chaise lounge upon a sleek, reflective stage. Your legs were crossed at the ankles, red bottoms peeking out of the slit of the elegant black evening gown you wore.
Your lips were in a pout, trembling as they threatened to give way to a spill of tears that would fall in a neverending cascade down your cheeks. 
You were being made to watch the most horrific heartbreak of your life played back on live television.
Having Miguel look into your eyes mid thrust when the cameras were off and he was on top of you in the Fairytale Suites in Thailand and whisper,
 "I love you....I think you're the one....",
watch you walk down a sandy beach clad in a flowy pink dress that cost $60k and stand in front of peaceful cerulean waters, hands entertwined, look you in the eyes and proclaim in a shaky voice, 
"I feel stronger love for Xina...," was the unforgiving papercut, and being pinned underneath the relentless barrage of scrutiny, hatred, and criticism from the viewers was the lemon juice being poured on top of it. 
You watched yourself on the screen sob as you got into the backseat of the black Escalade as Miguel grimly shut the door behind you. You were taking deep, shaky breaths and leaning on your elbow as you tried to make sense of this profound stab wound he just gave you. Your reddened, teary eyes looked at the camera as your confessional.  
"I.....I don't know what just happened...." You rub your temple and look out the window, your lip trembling and your face scrunching in agony. "The craziest part of all of this is....I still love him...." 
A hushed, sympathetic awh emerges from the live audience. 
You leaned over and cradled your head in your hands in frustration as the black suburban continued to drive. 
"I just.... *shaky breath* wanna.....*choked sob*... be happy...when is it my turn to be happy...?" you break down as the screen fades again to black. This time focusing on you, perched on the chaise lounge onstage. The heartbroken woman Miguel did not choose for his wife. 
The tall host, Jason Donner, is sitting across from you in a black armchair. He has neatly groomed, sandy blonde hair and stubble dotting his square jaw and white, pearly teeth. He looks at you, green eyes in a solemn expressesion. He addresses you, and then the audience in a quiet voice. 
"Wow...that was...truly..... one of the most heartbreaking moments we've seen, I think in all of The Eligible Suitor Nation's history..." 
He says your name quietly, then continues, "Now I am, so, so incredibly sorry that this did not have the happy ending you were hoping for..." 
You're not looking at him but staring off, sad eyes still in a doe-like expression, a tear has escaped your left eye and is trickling down your cheek, followed shortly thereafter by another from your right. 
Jason continues, "Tell me...what are your thoughts as you watch that playback for the first time?" He pauses to hear your answer. 
You stay silent for the longest moment, then you finally break your statue-like gaze and take a deep breath, looking down at a spot on the floor so the audience's piercing stares don't throw off your train of thought.
You suddenly feel a rise of anger and frustration in your chest. What kind of question is that? How do you think I'm supposed to feel? 
You try and keep it cool, the chains of the hefty NDA contract you signed to be on this show keeping you on your best behavior tonight. 
"It feels.....awful, Jason." You look at him, and shrug your shoulders. "I really don't have words for it besides that. It feels awful to watch that." 
Jason nods and leans forward, bringing his fingers  to his mouth in a contemplative manner. "How did it feel when he said Xina was the one, I mean did you see this coming at all?" 
You let out a deep sigh and can't help but roll your eyes a little bit. "No..... no, I did not see this coming, Jason, okay?" You say in an exasperated tone, your words edged with annoyance. "You know what..." 
You stand up, shaking your head. "I can't do this." You rip off your body mic and throw it on your seat. "I can't fucking do this...." You gather up your dress train and carefully walk down the steps of the stage and briskly off the set towards your dressing room, sharp heels echoing as they hit the floor, letting out a large sob as soon as you're out of view, one of the cameramen chasing after you. 
Jason looks at the camera a little mortified by your sudden reaction, but the camera crew and producers are silently rubbing their hands together, the promise of high ratings clouding their vision like stars in their eyes. That's it, bring on the drama. You were delivering tonight. 
Jason clears his throat and flashes a smile at the camera. "Don't worry folks, this has all happened before..." 
The audience gives a nervous chuckle. 
"We'll give her a moment. But just remember, you'll get to catch her again on the beaches of paradise where other hot members of The Eligible Suitor Nation such as the likes of Ben Reilly, *audience cheers* , Felicia Hardy, *audience cheers*, and Peter B....*audience goes nuts* will have a second shot at love in our steamy Singles in Paradise, premiering this summer." 
Jason smiles and raises his voice a little more to be heard over the squeals of the fans. 
"We'll take a quick break but when we come back we'll hear Miguel's side of the story, and, a little later the happy couple will be making their grand debut for the first time in public since their romantic engagement in Thailand, which you'll need to see to believe. I must warn you all, it was probably one of the most romantic proposals we've seen in the show's history. Don't go anywhere folks."
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In the beginning, your friend jokingly submitted an application for you to be on the show after you wouldn't stop bitching about your ex. She reassured you when you freaked out at the email you got from production, confirming your application was accepted. 
"This will be good for you! Even if you don't marry the guy, at least you can get famous and have fun, be on TV for a little bit, get some free alcohol, maybe a nice date or two, yanno? Besides, you'll have a whole new roster of guys at your doorstep after they see your hot ass on television." 
You were still upset until she gave you a list of reasons not to be. Sure, this could be fun, you eventually concluded. You only had a 1 out of 30 chance of winning anyway, why turn a blind eye to the possibilities that could come out of this? 
When Miguel was announced as the eligible man you were going to be fighting for, you quit breathing when you saw how handsome he was. Tall, dark, a little stoic, a little nerdy, wants a family? He was literally pulled directly from your wildest imagination. 
You were intimidated by how attracted to him you found yourself, but you decided when you stepped out of that limo, that you were going to keep your walls up and just enjoy the ride. You greeted him with a shy smile. 
The producers had this weird idea to play up the dramatics that you were supposed to walk in with a bunch of fake autumn leaves from the craft store and throw them in the air and proclaim you're "falling" for him as your signature greeting. 
You walked up to Miguel as he stood in front of the mansion, wearing a poker face. You threw the leaves in the air and one of them flew and smacked him in the face. 
"Ppppppbbbbbbtttfffhh!" 
You said the cheesy ass line, "I'm falling for you Miguel! Geddit?" 
"The shock?...." Miguel gave you a confused look and your cheeks began to heat with embarrassment. 
"Well, I'm from a small town, we're kinda known for our fall colors during the season." You say with a smile. You brushed one of the stray leaves off his shoulder. "I just want you to know I'm very excited for this journey and I can't wait to talk to you more when we go inside?" 
After the initial obnoxiousness of your introduction Miguel managed to put on a polite smile. "Absolutely," he answered. "we'll talk more inside. Thank you for coming." 
You gave his hands a squeeze and walked down a stone path into the large Tuscany style mansion, Miguel's eyes lingering on your figure for just one more moment before he let out a deep sigh. 
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When you started out on the show with 29 other women, you managed to keep a low profile for several weeks, staying out of trouble and befriending most of them, even becoming a fan favorite. Tweets sent out every week with a hashtag in front of your name in support, and constantly ranking in the top 10 favorite contestants in the fan polls on social media. But, it never occurred to you that you had a real shot until, on week 3, a date card with your name on it made its way into the mansion.
Your master plan of just 15 minutes of fame quickly morphed into a life or death situation for your heart when you went on that amazing first date with Miguel to see your all time favorite rock band: Goo Goo Dolls. They played Iris and brought you on stage in front of everyone. You slow danced as the song played, and he leaned in close, softly singing the lyrics in your ear, dedicating the whole thing to you. 
"You're the closest to heaven, that I'll ever be and I don't wanna go home right now. And all I can taste is this moment. And all I can breathe is your life. And sooner or later it's over. I just don't wanna miss you tonight..."
And if the whole scene couldn't get any more romantic, a delicate shower of rain began to fall, and you and Miguel shared your first kiss which quickly snowballed into a makeout session on live TV.
Ever since that date, you became one of his favorites. Sometimes you swore he would look for you first as he entered a room. His eyes scanning urgently until they came to rest on you where they would linger for just a moment. Scarlet eyes that seemed to bleed only for you. 
A language only you two could understand, before he'd gently look away, not wanting to give away his undeniable pull towards you in a crowd of many. 
In between dates, you'd send little tokens to him through the producers like a sticky note that said "thinking of you..." or your favorite dad jokes. He'd read them with a smile and have them respond for him in the form of small Hershey's kisses or a sticky note that said in his messy handwriting,"couldn't stop thinking about you, either"
You'd giggle on top of cloud nine when he'd answer you back and you hid them quietly in your suitcase, not telling a soul. 
Watching him kiss and date other women was much, much more difficult than you expected. Sometimes the way he'd look at one of the other girls would cause you to want to throw in the towel right then and there. 
When you heard that he had kissed them, you couldn't get that mental image out of your mind, much less when you unfortunately witnessed it with your own eyes at one of the pre-elimination ceremony cocktail hours. 
The way she was straddling his lap, making herself look so small in it....the way he was groaning into her mouth, the sounds their lips were making as they moved against each together, letting his hands wander down her back and come to rest on her ass...
The painful sting of jealousy was so unbearable that you just ran away, tears burning hot down your cheeks until you could lock yourself in the bathroom and just settle in a heap on the floor, hand clasped around your mouth so nobody could hear you cry. 
It was so fucking unfair. You couldn't even be upset because this was what you signed up for. You thought you had a fairly strong grip on your self worth when you started the show, but every day tested you more than you ever thought possible. 
You spent hours every morning getting ready with your hair, makeup, and outfits, walking out with your chest high, only to see the way one of the other women's hair just fell so flawlessly or how she barely needed any makeup to look perfect, or how her body just looked way hotter than yours in her tight dress,  causing it to deflate once again. 
But those moments when you finally had him all to yourself felt like you were the only woman in his world. Miguel knew just the right words to hum into your ear and just the right way to touch you with his fingertips. There was no place on Earth like his arms. His heartbeat was a lullaby that could calm you like nothing else. He was making you fall rapidly like no other man from your past could. You buried your head in the sand, taking his words at face value, foolishly believing that he wasn't repeating the exact same thing to everyone else. 
You took the sweet nothings he'd whisper to you and make it gospel. Speeding naively down a road that lead to a dead end of disappointment. Week after week, as the show's episodes aired, the illusion you built yourself crumbled. Words you thought he conjured up just for you reduced to the punchline of some sick undercover joke as he turned around and repeated them to the next woman. 
Realizing the walls of the house you lived in were made out of porcelain. The stone of his betrayal knocking it to pieces. The curtains peeling back revealing layer after layer, causing your mind to go mad with self doubt, not even sure if you knew this man who you uprooted your life for and handed your dignity and heart over to on a silver platter.
 Who was this man who sang those sweet lyrics in my ear while we slow danced like we were straight out of a movie? Who was this man who I followed to the ends of the Earth, made a fool out of myself on live television for? You felt a deep pit in your stomach after every episode. 
Not only did you have to contend with the troubling confusion that this man who you thought you loved wasn't who he said he was, you had to deal with the fact that the show's production was now trying to twist your character for the sake of drama. 
You noticed that things you said were taken out of context and edited as spicy sound bites, painting you as this drama queen and passive aggressive trouble maker in the house. You sort of became their selected agent of chaos once the other firecrackers eventually got eliminated and needed someone new to fill in the villain's shoes. 
You watched the episodes play back with a puzzled look on your face. You knew what you said, you went on the dates, you heard the words that were being spoken, you kissed the man, you gave your body to him, and yet, everything you thought you knew was being challenged before your very eyes. Piecing together two separate versions of him that lived in your head. You thought you were slowly going insane. 
When it eventually came down to you and Xina as the final two for Miguel to choose from, Xina was the soft spoken, drop-dead gorgeous, intelligent, cookie-cutter, Christian sweetheart that every man could hope to bring home to meet his mother. 
Conchata and Gabe took an immediate liking to her during the meet the parents episode right before the finale. During hometown visits, Xina's parents were an endearing couple who had been married for 30+ years who she had an amazing relationship with. If you had to lose Miguel to any woman, then of course it would have been her. 
Meanwhile, you were the framed "bad girl" with tattoos and a cursing habit. You were a little more open about your sexuality, making crass jokes with the other women in the house. You'd definitely burn up if you were to enter a church. At hometowns, your home life was comparatively messier to Xina's with divorced parents and an absent father. 
Your mom and siblings met Miguel and loved him immediately, of course. Every week as the show aired and drew closer to the finale, you had to endure seeing endless tweets and memes putting you down. Lots of older women calling you a whore, saying you're trouble and telling Miguel to run for the hills while lifting up Xina at your expense. 
Conchata disliked you instantly. She raised an eyebrow at your top that was slightly too low cut, and your thigh tattoo that peeked out a little under your skirt. At least Gabe thought you were cool, but you remember how nervous you were sitting through filming when Conchata was grilling you on the patio outside the luxurious suite she was staying in.
"How do you feel about my son?"  She asked, silently giving you a test you were unaware you were taking. 
You paused for a moment. "Well... I love your son, ma'am. I can see myself spending the rest of my life with him." 
Conchata raised an eyebrow. "But do you even know him? You've only been dating him for a few weeks. I know him better than anyone as his mother, and it seems as though he's made really strong connections with some of the other women." 
You tried to shrug off the knot in your tummy her words just left you. "Well...I do, Mrs. O'Hara. He makes me feel special every time I see him. He and I communicate really well and always check in with one another. He has everything I'm looking for in a life partner: strong willed, calm, kind, hard working, intelligent...he makes me happy and I would be honored if he chose me." 
Conchata didn't react, just tightened her lips in a straight line and took another sip of wine. "I see...well, I'm glad that you feel that way and you take such an interest in my son. But, do you honestly see him choosing you at the end of all of this?"
You feel your gut clench again at her question, anger, confusion, insecurity rising within you all at once, but you manage to fake a smile and say, "Well, I can see him as my husband, and I want him to choose me. But, it's ultimately his decision alone. All I can do is hope for the best."
Conchata clicks her teeth and gives you a fake smile. "Indeed...that's all you can do, right?" She stands up. "It was lovely chatting with you."
She already turns to leave before you can muster out a weak, "you too..." 
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Now, tonight on the live season finale, your head was in your hands, with your ears covered like a small child in your dressing room, trying to drown out the sound of the crowd cheering hysterically as Miguel walked up on stage, shaking hands with Jason and sitting on the couch. You heard another loud, lasting round of applause from the audience as Xina eventually walked out joining him. 
You finally felt brave enough to walk back outside and watch the scene from one of the screens backstage, but once you walked up to see it closer you immediately wish you just stayed curled in a ball in your dressing room. 
Xina looked so perfect next to Miguel. Her raven hair fell in soft layers just past her shoulders leaning against him with a hand on his thigh and one of his hands tenderly holding onto the side of her hip, nearly resting on her ass. A gorgeous, dainty solitaire diamond on her ring finger on her left hand. 
Miguel was looking at her through love-blown pupils as she spoke in her quiet, low, sultry voice, the grin on his face widening even more when her lovely dark eyes came to rest on him between sentences. They were in love. And he was happy. She was happy. There was no denying that now that you forced yourself to see it with your own eyes. Who were you to stand in their way of being together, if they were building a life together they both equally wanted....right? 
Even if your heart technically was the collateral damage.
You couldn't pull your gaze away at how perfect they looked. But simultaneously couldn't comprehend how the same man sitting next to her was the one who sang you that song. The same one who took you on a carriage ride in Scotland. The same one who would wink at you after he'd give you a rose at each elimination ceremony. The same one who held you while you began to cry about missing your dad, a shared pain between you two that you could bond over, the same one who spent all night taking his time on you in a dim hotel room in Thailand and told you that you're the one, all for him to suddenly flip overnight and choose her instead. 
You felt like you couldn't watch anymore and just walked back into your dressing room, quickly packing your suitcase, wondering if it was too late to cancel your flight tomorrow and just hope there was room on the red eye flight tonight instead. Wishing you could fast forward time to a place where the sound of his name would no longer feel like a million knives cutting into you. 
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Some time later, a soft knock comes at your door. Before you can ask who it is, he's already walking in and you feel sick to your stomach, the sounds of his footfalls a not too distant memory that you could still distinguish as his. You try to wipe your eyes, not daring to turn around. 
"What is it?" You ask in a flat tone as you resume folding your clothes and squeezing them into your suitcase that threatened to overflow. 
Miguel is looking at you with a sorrowful expression. "I need to apologize to you..." 
"I don't want to hear it." 
"Please..." he begs, walking up to you so you can nearly feel his breath on the back of your neck. 
You turn and face him and his lips part a little bit when he sees how much hurt you're in. He goes to cup your face but you swat his hand away and walk to the other side of the room instead. 
Miguel clenches his fist and closes his eyes. 
"At least tell me you'll be alright..." 
"-oh I'll be fine." You say firmly, crossing your arms. "I've lived without you before, and I'll figure out how to do it again." 
Miguel looks at you with a sad expression. It hurt him to think you actually wanted a life without him in it, but he couldn't blame you. He got what he wanted. He chose the woman he loved the most, and this was the consequence. But deep down he's too selfish to think about you moving on. 
Was it his ego? Was he really prepared to let you go for good? Were his feelings for Xina exaggerated and rather clouded by the whole fairytale notion and weak logic of finding a forever companion on a reality game show? 
He couldn't have his cake and eat it too. He knew he had to let you go. He knew you didn't want an apology, you didn't want to hear a sob story or excuses or false hope that you would always have a piece of his heart, even if it was true deep down. He thought carefully for a moment, then he finally said in a soft voice,
"For what it's worth, I really do wish you the best..."
You look at him. And, just for a moment those lingering feelings you tried so hard to bury make themselves known as he's wearing a look on his face you haven't seen since he was still in love with you. 
Tears threaten your composure again and you quickly turn around, gazing upwards in hopes of keeping them in. "Don't do that..." you say in a near whisper. 
Miguel responds in an equally hushed tone, the tension much more palpable. "Do what....?"
"Look at me that way...." The tears are flowing and you know you need to wrap this up now before you or him say something you'll regret. 
"You're looking at me the same way you look at her..." 
A lump forms in Miguel's throat because he realizes he really does still love you. But he loves Xina too. He made a choice and a commitment to her and it was time to see it through. But that didn't make this farewell any easier. He whispers your name again and you shake your head. 
"I'm fine. I'll be fine. I promise." You give him a weak smile as the tears blur your vision. He takes a step towards you but you shake your head quickly, shifting past him to grab your suitcase. 
He closes his eyes in defeat and tenses his jaw, a tear escaping the corner of his eye. 
You hobble past him with your heavy suitcase, struggling to carry it in your heels. You prop open the door and look back at him one more time and he looks at you, giving you a weak smile. You nod, and your anger subsides for just a moment. "I meant what I said...you know...before..." 
Miguel's chest rises and falls. You don't have to elaborate for him to understand. He still remembers the hidden way you two used to communicate, even if this may be the last time he ever does. 
"Thank you..." he says gently, meaning it. 
You swiftly turn your head, pulling up the handle on your luggage and gather your dress in your free hand as the door softly clicks behind you. You make sure you're out of earshot before you break down crying again. 
As your flight coasts gently through the midnight sky, you lean against your window as though it was Miguel, or at least the version of him that lived in your memory. You close your eyes this time, the distant glow of the moon outside lulling you and beckoning you to a place where your thoughts can't torment you at last, succumbing to a well-deserved rest. 
Miguel stands in his hotel room, gazing at the cityscape outline in the distance, the same moon standing watch in the obsidian skies above. Xina gently calls for him and he turns around and gives her a tired smile as he crawls in bed next to her and holds her close. He shuts off the beside lamp. His mind quickly shakes off the memory of the color of your eyes before he drifts asleep. 
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latenighttalking00 · 7 months
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A Work of Art
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Pairing: Benedict Bridgerton x Fem! Reader
Summary: You are a Marchioness from france and your mother is adamant that you wed. She is a very close friend of the Dowager Vicountess Bridgerton who has so generously agreed to be your sponsor for the season. Perhaps in doing this, she has unknowingly found her son's perfect match as well.
Warnings: slow-ish burn, friends to lovers, smut, 18+, minors dni, hair pulling, possessive/dirty talk, fingering, oral (f receiving). This is just porn with a plot.
Word Count: 2k
Author's Note: Hi! This is my first time writing, so apologies if it's a bit rough; English isn't my native language. Hopefully, you all absolutely drool over Benedict the same way I do. enjoy!
Once the social season had begun its approach, you and your family make haste on your return from france. Due to your newly given title, you are projected to be quite the diamond this season indeed.
As a close friend of the family, the Dowager Viscountess, Violet Bridgerton kindly offers to sponsor your debut this season, meaning that it is now of the utmost importance to arrive promptly at the Bridgerton home in London before the season is to begin.
As you sit in the drawing room, awaiting the next potential suitors you will inevitably send on their way, the clear and evident dread in your expression does not go unnoticed by your mother. A quick swat to your knee from her fan catches your attention, a visible look of warning on her face as your eyes meet hers.
"I do hope that attitude of yours is quick to dissipate." She sighs, "Men will find you quite inadequate to wed if you are to continue this ridiculous behavior. It is quite unladylike." Your mother's words cut right through you as if she had taken a hot paring knife to both of your ears. Not being able to withstand it any longer, you quickly stand from your seat and interrupt her.
"Mother, this gown and the line of men outside the door are quite suffocating enough; no need for your incessant nagging as well." You take a moment to pause, regaining your composure.
"I believe I am feeling quite faint; perhaps I've seen enough suitors today." You threaten rather than suggest, "I will return to my chambers and perhaps get a bit of rest seeing as the sun has already began it’s departure from the sky."
You bow and quickly excuse yourself before making haste out the door, walking as fast as your feet can take you, right past the men who are practically begging for just a minute of your attention.
You race directly to your bedroom, entering quickly and not even fully shutting the door before you are pulling down the zipper of your gown and letting it fall to the floor. "This retched thing must come off immediately," you mumble to yourself as you pull at the laces of your corset, loosening them just enough to slide off your body. A sigh of relief leaves your lips as you slip off your stays and slip on a beautiful white nightgown you purchased from one of the most talented modiste in france.
Shortly after the maids come to collect your gown, you are quick to wander down the halls in search of a cure to your relentless boredom. you find what appears to be an art studio and you are instantly overjoyed. you quietly sneak in through the door left ajar.
Art was your pride and joy; your sketches and the ability to produce beautiful works on canvas were the only things keeping you from becoming a mad woman.
Unbeknownst to you, Violet's second-eldest son and the owner of said art studio had just returned home from the gentleman's club. As he makes his way down the hall, prepared to return to his studio and peacefully finish up some things he started the night prior, he is met with complete and udder surprise at the sight of a woman flipping through his sketchbooks.
He feels as if the air has been knocked right from his lungs. Never once has a woman looked so real, raw, and simply ethereal to him in nothing but a simple yet elegant night gown, the pages in between your delicate fingers, the way in which you sit, your effortless and beautiful features, and the way they change and turn to show your focus, the true and utter intrigue at the charcoal etched on the paper is more than enough to bring a man directly to his knees.
He watches as you adjust your position, your nightgown sliding up your thighs as you cross a leg over the other. He feels as if he might faint.
“those are from my time traveling.” he points, making his way in to the room.
So lost in thought, you are quickly brought back by the sound of the deep and sultry voice coming from the hallway, it sends chills down your body, you are unable to fight the butterflies in your stomach and are completely unprepared for what you’re eyes are met with the second they dare to leave the pages in front of you. He is perhaps one of the most beautiful men you have ever seen, the way his features darken in the dim candle light could cause scandal merely on its own.
As he makes his way over to you, you scramble to find any sort of words to not appear as a complete and udder fool. “désolée, my Lord. All this beautiful artwork caught my eye and i could not help myself.” your voice only making his new found attraction grow even stronger.
“Benedict Bridgerton..” he says just loud enough for you to hear. He is quick to take your hand in his, pressing a gentle kiss to your knuckles.
“Miss y/n y/l/n” you respond, a blush creeps over your cheeks as your eyes meet his. Your name and accent are both very quick explanations as to why a very random beautiful woman was wondering in
his family home.
“Ah yes, the Marchioness from France. My mother has done quite a bit of boasting upon your arrival, i can now see why she was so keen on you being the diamond of this social season” he chuckled lightly “merci, Lord Bridgerton.” you offer him a warm smile as you place the sketch book in his hands.
Your hand grazes his and you feel as if your body is set aflame. You quickly fumble to stand, attempting to leave before any further scandal is to happen. he is quick to catch you by the arm, his light grasp more than enough to keep you in place.
“Please, stay as long as you’d like.” He offers, taking a step towards you, but you are quick to shake your head, knowing staying any longer may very well affect your title and rank during this very precious season.
“You are more than kind.” you place a hand over his and squeeze lightly. He leans even closer, your face mere inches from his. his scent fills your nose and you cannot control the heat that consumes your body, the sheer need you have for him in this very moment. “I must- i uh-..” he raises an eyebrow at your words. though his proximity fogs your brain, you attempt to compose yourself. “Perhaps i can show you some of my art in the duration of my stay here.“ he smirks, dragging his teeth over his bottom lip as he nods “if what you create is half as beautiful as you, my art will never hold a candle to yours.” he compliments.
Your breathe catches in your throat as his words. “..Benedict- Apologies, Lord Bridgerton..” you quickly correct yourself, the use of his first name not going unnoticed by him. “I’m sure both your and my Mother will have quite the earful if i am found in here, i must go.” Before he is even able to protest, you are gone.
As the days pass, You begin to consume his every waking thought, the sound of your voice, the feeling of your skin on his is burned in to his memory and he cannot shake his want for you.
Anthony is quick to notice his admiration, the wandering stares and close proximity immediately become apparent in Anthony’s eyes. As the family settles in the drawing room, Anthony is quick to pull His younger brother aside “You’ve grown quite close with Marchioness” Anthony offers his younger brother a warning glance and Benedict simply smirks in return “Brother, are you suggesting that i’ve compromised Miss y/l/n?” he laughs. Anthony in no way finds this amusing “See to it that your intentions are well thought out and you are thinking with your brain rather than something else. She is a Marchioness, toying with oversea affairs may be more than risky, even for a Bridgerton.” Anthony notes, the clear and evident weariness in his voice wipes the smile right off Benedict’s face
“Brother, do remind me. Did you not ask for one Sharma’s hand in marriage and then proceed to marry the other? You need not inform me on scandal for i am more than well aware of what i am doing.” he place a hand on Anthony shoulder and squeezes light before walking away.
time skip
Benedict does everything in his power to gain every fraction of your attention when it is available. The two of you spending more time together than any of the men attempting to court you. This new grown fondness blossoms quickly and Benedict soon becomes one of your most trusted friends. Spending late nights in his art studio, promenades in the garden, pall mall with his family. You’ve never felt more at home than with your dear Benedict and his lovely family. This fondness grows very quickly to something much stronger. Knowing Benedict’s stance on courting and marriage in general, you shake the thought. Knowing your dear friend will never see you as anything but.
While enjoying another late night in his studio, you can’t help but feel different. You both are well aware your time together is coming to end. Suitors begin growing impatient and proposals begin rolling in faster than the tide.
“I quite like Lord Lumley, he is handsome and he finds interest in poetry.” Benedict is quick to laugh “Lord Lumley is a dimwit after nothing but your title.” you wince at his words “Clearly he’s much more of a gentleman than you.” You tease, crossing your arms over your chest. “Excuse me?” he asks, the change in his tone sending heat right between your thighs. He rises from his place on the stool and saunters over to you, his large frame towering over yours.
“Repeat what you said.” he orders
“Ben i was merely kidding i-“ you stutter, his proximity making your skin feel as if it were on fire.
“Do not make me ask you again.” he warns, a smirk on his face
You are a bit taken a back by his demeanor but the insatiable desire in your body fills you with a sudden surge of confidence. “Lord Lumley is more of a gentleman than you, Lord Bridgerton.”
Benedict lets out a low chuckle before leaning down, his mouth right by your ear.
“Perhaps you’re right. Perhaps Lord Lumley isn’t plagued by the same un-gentleman like thoughts that fill my head the moment you step into a room.” he sighs, his breath on your skin only making matters worse.
Your hands find his half buttoned shirt and you press your hands lightly to his chest “Benedict.” you warn.
he pulls back just enough to meet your eyes with his own. Your noses practically grazing as he speaks. “Tell me now that you do not desire me.” His hands rest on either side of your face “Simply speak the words and i will respectfully withdraw and allow you to be with whomever you like but first you must tell me you do not desire me and you wish for me to leave you alone.”
“Ben.” You mumble quitely. Every feeling or emotion that the second eldest Bridgerton has ever caused immediately rises to the surface. At a complete loss for words, you do what you feel is right in the very moment and you bring your lips to his.
The kiss quickly fills with passion, weeks of hidden adoration and care comes bubbling over the surface.
“Marry me.” he say breathlessly as he breaks from the kiss. “You have shown me what is it truly like to admire a woman. To look at her and feel inspiration. To delight in her beauty. So much so that all of her defenses crumble and that you would willingly take on any pain or burden for her. To honor her being with your deeds and words. You make me feel what only a true poet describes." his works nearly bring you to your knees as tears threaten to escape your eyes. “I would move the heavens down to earth for you if i knew it would make you smile.”
“Benedict.. Je vous aime.” you reassure him “I love you mon chéri, more than the moon loves the night sky. You are my everything, my best-friend. I would give anything to be your wife.” He pulls you back in for another kiss which very quickly becomes heated.
He trails hot kisses all over your jaw, neck and bosom. “My beautiful Fiancée.” he mumbles, his wandering hands sliding their way up your thighs, threatening to breach the hem of your nightgown. You are immediately reminded of your current location and you push the dark haired boy back “Ben.. not here” you breathe out, The second Bridgerton son just smirks before kneeling down in front of you.
Unsure of what he’s planning, you remain silent, eyes trained on his as he begins trailing kisses up from your ankle to your inner thigh. His hands trail up the back of your legs, giving your ass a playful squeeze as he reaches it, causing a gasp to escape from your lips.
The mere sight of him like this sends heat directly between your thighs, all logical thinking thrown out the window as he begins to tug your panties down your thighs. A blush creeps over your cheeks and your hands find his hair, tugging lightly. Benedict continues with no hesitation, pressing light kisses all over your inner thighs, leading right up to your aching core. You’re unable to fight back the sounds that leave your lips as you feel his tongue pressed against your clit. “Christ Benedict… you’re going to be the death of me.”
He wastes no time, lapping, kissing and sucking at your soaked heat as strong hands grip on to your thighs, throwing one of your legs over his shoulder. You lean against his desk to keep yourself upright while quiet moans and whimpers escape your lips, your hands pulling and tugging at his messy black hair, only encouraging him more. He pulls back only for a moment to look up at you “You taste fucking divine, my beautiful work of art.”
He is quick to return to your soaked heat. As his tongue works relentlessly on your clit, he slowly pushes two fingers inside of you, giving you a moment to adjust before slowly thrusting them in and out. Shortly after, you feel an unfamiliar knot form in the pit of your stomach and Benedict is aware immediately due to your incoherent mumbles and the way you clench around his fingers. “That’s my girl..” he says breathlessly “just like that..” After hearing his words, you completely unravel, shaky moans escape your lips as one hand grips on to the table and the other with a tight hold on your Fiancées hair.
Once your body has relaxed, he gently pulls your panties back up before standing to face you. You watch as he brings his fingers to your mouth “Open.” he commands and you immediately oblige, opening your mouth as he slides his fingers past your lips. The unfamiliar taste and the sheer sight in front of you causes a blush to fall over your face. He removes his fingers with a groan and offers your a smirk “You, my dear Fiancée are going to be the death of Me.”
A/N: Hi guys! I really hope every likes this :) if you have any request, feel free to send them to me :)
931 notes · View notes
pupyuj · 5 months
Text
[cw: dubcon, exhibitionism methinks?, fingering, degradation, humiliation]
well hello! i’ve been gone a while, yes but FEAR NOT you will never get rid of me (unfortunately) 😈😈 have a mean girl wony (completely different from “magic words” wony btw!) drabble for an appetizer tee hee 😋
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campus princess wony who never fucking batted an eyelash towards her suitors, even the decent ones, but could never get over how you of all things never once looked at her the way everybody does?? every time you walked past her in the hallways without sparing her ass a glance, she was seething 😭😭 but she would never—and i mean never—go out of her way to make you notice her, nope! she was going to make you obsessed with her in the most organic-but-a-bit-flawed way possible! and her best friend’s small slumber party was the best opportunity to do all that 😈
being invited by mutual friends, you showed up in the most loser fit ever that wony almost wondered why the fuck she was so interested until she watched the way you scrunched your nose to raise your glasses—so fucking cute, wony was actually mad that you gave her butterflies 😭 but even in a small group, you still refused to acknowledge her! it was unbelievable; usually people would kill to be in your place, to be that close physically with her but noooo, apparently you were some hotter shit 😒😒
wony has had the luxury of watching you this entire night… you were so cool and laid-back, you got along with everyone pretty well (except wonyoung), but you were somewhat reserved… you intrigued wonyoung, but she had to save the pleasantries and introductions later bcs holy fuck she needed to hear that pretty voice of yours whimper and moan for her 😳😳 eventually she didn’t care that you were completely ignoring her bcs all she wanted at this point was to fuck you senseless,, that oughta get your attention…
wony following you into one of the bedrooms to get some extra pillows and blankets,, saying that she was there to help until she grabbed you and pressed your up against the door,,
“what the hell are you doing?!”
“do me a favor and shut up.”
her putting one of your wrists behind your waist and pinning the other to the door as she grinds against your ass, nose up in your hair and then leaving soft kisses down the side of your neck… “w-wonyoung, what the fuck?! let me go! a-ah.. don’t…” squirming and resisting as much as you could but ofc crumbling down the moment wony’s kisses get stronger, sloppier, hungrier… completely being at her mercy eventually, moaning at every kiss she leaves on her skin as she always thought you should be… “mhm, all wet..” she whispers in your ear while she felt up your pussy through your soaked panties :((
“a-aahn..! sto—wait, they’ll hear us…”
“good. i want them to.”
holding onto wony’s wrist while she rubbed your clit harshly,, biting down on your lip but it wasn’t enough with the added pleasure of wonyoung’s breath in your ear 😣 “should’ve known this is what it would take for you to look at me… i would’ve fucked you earlier, unnie.” 🫠 her letting out a moan when she slipped two fingers inside you?? relishing in the feeling of your warmth and how tight you were,, you weren’t a virgin by any means but it still caught you off guard… having to clamp your hand around your mouth to muffle your moans,, but wony was quick to swat your hand away,, “bad unnie.” she said through gritted teeth 😵‍💫😵‍💫
the very obvious dilemma you were having with yourself was enjoyable to witness for wonyoung.. how you actively tried to resist her by your breathy “no”s and “stop”s, but would grind back against her and moan so loudly whenever her fingers hit your sweet spots 🫣 but when she notices that you were stopping yourself from cumming.. oh she got mad 😵‍💫 “still keeping the act, huh? fine then.” and she just starts fucking you harder from behind 🫠🫠 she was relentless—pumping her fingers in and out of your cunt and snapping her wrist when she hits that spot just to drive you insane, slapping your ass until it was red, leaving scratch marks on your waist... it was all very effective bcs she had you screaming immediately 😳
her ripping your pajama top off without a single care in the world,, “don’t give me that look, unnie. i’ll buy you a new one.” she jokes but not really—she can buy you a whole mall and you wouldn’t even have to ask! 🫣🫣 wony taking note of the way the sweetest, sluttiest sounds escaping your lips once her hand reaches your chest… once again being so turned on that she moans herself,, “you’re so shameless now… you love this, don’t you? you want our friends to know what exactly is being done to you, unnie, hm?” wony pinching your nipple to force you to moan loudly :(( even giggling a bit bcs she just found this so fun??
really, really talks you through when you’re close and cumming 😵‍💫😵‍💫 all up in your ear while she does all the right things to your body… bite marks and hickeys on your shoulder bcs she couldn’t resist.. holds your hips still with her free hand while she fucked you in that same merciless pace, only a lot more harder bcs wony absolutely needed to see you all broken up for her 🫢
“come on, unnie… you’ll cum for me, won’t you?”
“yes, yes…! show them, let them hear you, unnie…”
“fuck, good girl…”
omgjdhchjs she nearly came with you with how horny she was watching you fall apart on her hand… the sight of your juices dripping down your legs and pooling at your feet made wony want to fuck you right there all over again but she had to suffice with licking your cum off her fingers for now 🤭 but wony barely letting you come back to your senses when she just leaves you in that room with nothing but a side glance bcs she’s just that bitchy??? leaving you to clean up your own mess, grab a spare shirt from your friend’s closet, and forcing yourself to show your face to everybody after all of that… dare wony say that your red eyes and flushed cheeks were more of a turn on that literally feeling your pussy clench around her fingers!!
but even if wonyoung treated you like filth.. she was still too pretty… so pretty that you don’t bother to do any resisting when she sneaks into your futon super late in the night, ready to make you see the stars all over again 🫣
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kckt88 · 5 months
Text
Drowning Inside You II
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Summary:
Aemond and Valaera settle into life as married couple and Valaera's heat arrives earlier than expected.
-Features an Aemond POV.
MINORS DO NOT INTERACT!!
Warning(s): Mini Time Skip, Inner thoughts, Language, Kissing, Smut, Heat/Rut Cycle, P in V, Breeding Kink, Knotting, Mild Angst, Possessive Behaviour.
Word Count: 4620
Author Note: An Alpha/Omega Story.
Inspired by the song Call My Name by EMO + Yolo.
Disclaimer: I do not own any of the House of The Dragon or Fire & Blood characters nor do I claim to own them. I do not own any of the images used.
Comments, likes, and reblogs are very much appreciated.
Ever since Valaera had taken his eye that night on Driftmark, Aemond had envisioned the various ways in which he would exact his revenge against Valaera Velaryon.
Maimed, half blind and now the rider of the largest dragon in the world.
For years he’d hated her, even thinking about Valaera would send Aemond into a rage of epic proportions.
He would spend hours in the training yard, sparring with Ser Criston or deliberately starting fights with other Alpha’s.
His only reprieve from it all was Vhagar.
She was far too large to be housed inside the dragon pit, so she had taken to resting in an outcropping of caves beyond the Red Keep.
His old girl didn’t fit in anywhere and neither did he.
Even before he lost his eye, he never felt part of anything, his older brother was a massive twat, and his sweet sister was far too invested in her bugs too notice anything else. Even his younger brother Daeron was a stranger to him.
His older brother was rather fond of making Aemond suffer through his awful practical jokes, and relentless teasing. Even more so when their ‘strong’ nephew would join in.
Behold the Pink Dread.
Valaera was the only one to apologise for the pig, offering her uncle some lemon cakes she’d managed to steal from the kitchens.
After Driftmark, Aemond devoted himself to his studies and training. Becoming the perfect second son, even as Aegon would squander every opportunity that was given to him.
Before his presentation as an Omega, Aegon would spend his days drunk and cock deep in some whore on the streets of silk.
Yet all that stopped when he was given in marriage to Jacaerys Velaryon. Aemond had to admit he thoroughly enjoyed the look of horror on Aegon’s face when their father announced their union.
Yet his brother for all his desire to flee Kings Landing on the back of Sunfyre remained and married his strong bastard, with the pair of them becoming so happy it would make Aemond’s stomach turn.
Since she cost him his eye, Valaera would avoid Aemond like the plague. Always fleeing the room whenever Aemond entered or hiding behind her mother’s skirts.
Which suited Aemond just fine, the less time he spent in the company of Valaera the better. Yet as he got older, he realised it wasn’t just hate that he felt for Valaera. It was something far deeper. Rooted in his very core.
At first, he was unsure what it was.
But as Valaera got older and presented as an Omega, one sniff of Valaera’s sweet scent and that was it.
Aemond knew it was no longer hate that was driving him. It was desire.
As his niece grew from a plain faced pup into a stunningly beautiful pearl. Aemond knew he was done for.
Countless nights he would imagine the pretty noises his niece would make as he took her to bed and ravished her with his tongue, his fingers, and his cock.
Valaera always had this way of looking at him and it would drive him to the brink of insanity.
Those beautiful brown doe eyes, so innocent. So perfect.
Aemond would strip his cock raw every night as he fucked his fist, to the thought of Valaera.
Of course, the girl was still terrified of him and while part of him still rather enjoyed it, another was so desperate to have the Omega that he would do anything.
Aemond knew that suitors would soon come to Kings Landing in their droves to beg for the hand of Driftmark's heir.
The pearl of the realm, given in marriage to some unworthy dog.
No, he wouldn’t allow it. Valaera had left her mark on him when she'd carved out his eye and Aemond would ensure that the Omega would belong to him and no other.
It was easy enough to convince his father. After all, Aegon’s marriage to Jacaerys had been successful. The two of them had already been blessed with one pup and Aegon was currently expecting their next.
His mother however was more resistant to the match and Aemond prayed every night to the seven that his father would remain steadfast in his decision.
Luckily the gods answered his prayers and now Valaera Velaryon belonged to him.
Bound for life.
Aemond thought nothing could top the sight of Valaera at their wedding.
Oh, how wrong he was.
The sight of his sweet Omega laid bare before him, begging to be bred would remain with Aemond far beyond his death.
He could feel his cock going stiff at the thought of fucking Valaera again.
But that would have to wait, as Criston’s morningstar came flying towards him. The shield in his hand shattered upon impact. Discarding the splinted wood, Aemond expertly dodged the repeated attacks and soon his sword was pointed at the Kings guard’s throat.
“Well done my Prince. You’ll be winning tourneys in no time”.
“I don’t give a shit about tourney’s” replied Aemond as he spun the long sword in his hand and cast his eyes to the sky, watching two dragons race each other.
Aemond smiled when he heard his Omega’s gleeful laughter, as her dragon Arrax nimbly darted around Vermax and shot off into the clouds.
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In the weeks since her wedding to Aemond, Valaera had come to realise that being married to him wasn't as bad as she thought it would be.
In public he was stoic and quiet, always standing with his arms folded behind his back, his posture rigid and firm yet in private he was passionate and unyielding. He was a giving lover in the marriage bed and he would often seek her touch during the night, ensconcing her in his arms, making her feel safe.
On this particular day, Aemond was training as usual so Valaera decided to visit the library, there were so many books that she wished to read before her next name day.
Aegon of course had previously made fun of her calling her a 'bookworm' and then stated that her and Aemond were perfect for one another as he loved books too, what Aegon didn't know was that sometimes Aemond would join Valaera in the library and he would fuck her against one of the bookcases and not much reading would be done on those occasions.
During her reverie Valaera began to notice that the walk back to her chambers felt peculiar. The latent arousal swirling inside her as she thought of her Alpha felt different, but in a really familiar way strangely enough. Her breath suddenly became more laboured, and a tingling sensation appeared inside her.
The empty feeling in the pit of her stomach becoming more pronounced.
Surely this couldn’t be her. Oh no. The Maesters had always been accurate about her heats. She wasn’t expecting it for another few weeks.
But something was off, extremely off, because soon she felt her legs start to shake with every step she took, and she was practically hyperventilating.
The closer she got to the chambers she shared with Aemond, everything started to blur, even the light, it was so bright that she had to shut her eyes, it made her stop in her tracks and lean against the wall.
The arousal she previously felt in her abdomen had now turned into excruciating pain. Valaera could smell almost every single Alpha in the Red Keep, but the scent of HER Alpha overpowered them all, she needed him.
Oh, gods she needed him so much, she felt so empty, she needed his knot, she needed his seed, she needed to be filled with her Alpha.
Slick started running down her legs, she was so wet, and her clothes felt so constricting, she needed to get them off before she was suffocated.
“Princess. Are you alright, shall I alert your mother?” asked a guard, he was sweating profusely, his scent was making Valaera feel sick, his voice was too loud, and he was too close to her. She wanted to run away, she wanted to run to Aemond, but her legs were completely useless.
The tears began running down her cheeks, she was getting desperate.
Alpha. Please. I need you. I’m frightened. Where are You?
Then she heard a loud growl. Her Alpha’s growl.
Yes! Yes! Her Alpha had come for her! Her Alpha had come to finally breed her!
Valaera’s inner Omega let out a loud cry, practically a scream as she heard the growl, eager to reunite with her Alpha.
“Get. Away. From MY OMEGA” snarled Aemond his voice was deep, low, and dangerous, his scent dark and violent.
He sized up the guard with his remaining eye, growling once again. The guard growled back at first but quickly retreated once the full force of Aemond’s Alpha pheromones permeated through the air.
Aemond turned his attention to Valaera, throwing himself at his whimpering Omega. He put his arms under Valaera’s legs and back, lifted her up and began to carry her toward their chambers.
Valaera swung her arms around Aemond and buried her face in his neck. She began to desperately kiss and suck on Aemond’s throat, she couldn’t help himself, she needed to get closer to her Alpha’s fucking intoxicating scent.
Both of them were a sweaty mess by the time they reached their chambers. Valaera couldn’t keep her hands off of Aemond, nor could she stop scenting and sucking on the mating mark on his neck.
Aemond nuzzled her neck affectionately, then he reached down and grabbed Valaera’s behind, squeezing it hard. His Omega responded by moaning loudly before unlacing his breeches and shoving her hand inside to fondle his cock, which had grown rock hard. Valaera needed it deep inside her now or she would explode.
Aemond grabbed her jaw and turned her face upwards so he could reach her mouth. The Alpha’s tongue felt so good in her mouth, she had to moan once again, this time into Aemond’s mouth, making him grunt loudly in response while still kissing her. 
They fell backwards together, landing on the bed, never once breaking their kiss.
Aemond was a grunting mess, almost whimpering every time Valaera’s tongue swirled around his. Their clothes were a hinderance, and they needed to get them off.
So that they could feel each other properly. Aemond hooked his fingers into the seams of Valaera’s dress and ripped it from her body, buttons and fabric flew everywhere.
Aemond’s breeches were the next victim, shredded to pieces as he clawed at them, his tunic was also ripped from his body, the tattered threads landing somewhere on the floor after he discarded them.
Valaera’s eyes rolled back into her head as she felt her Alpha’s naked body against her own.
Aemond’s pheromones burned brighter as his mouth dove into her scent gland, sucking eagerly while scraping his teeth against the mark he’d previously left on her skin. Valaera was absolutely crazed by the movement.
“My Omega. your scent. It’s so fucking amazing” whispered Aemond, whilst inhaling his wife’s unique scent.
“Take me Alpha, breed me, your Omega needs your seed” begged Valaera.
Tears of joy were rolling down her face, so fucking happy that her Alpha would finally fill the aching emptiness in her abdomen.
Aemond grunted loudly in response and reached down to align his huge cock with Valaera’s dripping wet hole, instantly pushing inside, making them both moan in sync as his hard and pulsing cock found Valaera’s warm, wet heat.
The Alpha thrust his cock into Valaera at a relentless pace almost immediately, giving Valaera no time to adjust to his size. 
Valaera wrapped her legs around Aemond’s waist and squeezed as tightly as she could, she needed to be fucked again and again, she needed her Alpha to pump her full of his seed and put a pup inside of her. 
Her Alpha fucked her hard and fast, his hips pounding against hers. The sound of skin slapping together echoed around the chambers.
Aemond gave a loud grunt and stilled, throwing his head back while squeezing his eye shut, giving Valaera exactly what she wanted.
Rope after roped of his seed spilled inside his Omega, which made Valaera scream in joy and throw her own head back, as she reached her peak, clenching around her Alpha’s pulsating cock.
 It didn’t stop there, Aemond only needed a few moments of rest before growing hard inside of his Omega again.
As Valaera’s legs relaxed and let go of her hold on Aemond, he moved backwards and raised himself to his knees between Valaera’s legs.
The loss of her Alpha inside her made Valaera whimper as the ache quickly returned. 
 Please. Alpha. I need you. Don’t stop. Don’t leave me.
“Roll over” ordered Aemond. It was a command, an Alpha command, and Valaera whimpered as she felt it take control of her body, she had to obey, she had to please her Alpha.
She was now on all fours in front of him, ready to be mounted again. Her heat sent out new waves of scent and slick, which made Aemond almost stagger. He pushed his cock into the whimpering Omega once more with shaky hands and proceeded to pound her even harder and quicker than before, snapping his hips against her while grunting loudly, driving needy moans out of Valaera. 
Aemond was gripping her hips so hard that his nails were digging into her skin, leaving marks everywhere, the pain drove Valaera wild with need and she needed to feel more of it.
Almost as if he could sense what she needed, Aemond reached forward and grabbed Valaera’s hair, making her head shoot back. Valaera cried out to her Alpha in pleasure, making Aemond growl.
His knot started to slowly push inside Valaera, and she let out a feral cry as the knot made its way deeper and deeper inside of her. It swelled up so much, it hurt, it hurt so good.
“I will have you dripping with my seed my sweet Omega. I can’t wait to see you swell with my pup, everyone will know your mine-“ moaned Aemond.
Aemond thrust one, two, three more times before growling once again, shooting his seed deep inside Valaera, filling her up. He grunted out Valaera’s name chasing the pleasure of his own peak. He then let out a deep, satisfied breath before collapsing onto his Omega.
Aemond moved his face to Valaera’s neck again, and lovingly nuzzled her.
Valaera was trembling next to him, trying to catch her own breath. The throes of her heat satisfied for now.
But soon it would take hold of her again, her body constantly craving the touch of her Alpha.
For the next three days, she was fucked senseless by Aemond. Everything falling by the wayside as the Alpha took care of his Omega.
After her heat had ended, it took a solid day for both of them to fully recover. They were completely exhausted yet completely satisfied beyond all comprehension.
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If Aemond clenched his jaw any harder, his teeth would shatter.
His Omega was stood talking to Alyn of Hull and Aemond hated every single second of it.
I swear if he leans any closer to Valaera. I’ll slit his throat. I’ll tear him limb from limb.
The Alpha inside him was growling, the desire to protect Valaera was overwhelming his senses.
“Brother, you need to relax”.
“I will relax when I remove that Beta cunts fucking head from his shoulders” snarled Aemond.
“He’s only talking to Valaera” sighed Aegon as he gently rocked his newborn pup in his arms.
“I don’t like him leaning close to Valaera like that” muttered Aemond awkwardly.
I don’t like how he looks at Valaera. I don’t like how he smiles at her.
His Alpha was screaming inside his head. Protect. Protect. Protect.
“Alpha instinct, I get it. But in all seriousness, you need to stop lurking in the corner and join the celebration” replied Aegon.
“I need to…Keep an eye on Valaera”.
“No. You need to hold your niece whilst I get some wine” retorted Aegon as he placed his daughter in Aemond’s arms and reached for the nearest pitcher of some ghastly coloured wine that Aemond had always thought looked a little bit like piss.
Probably tastes like it too.
Whilst Aegon was busying himself with the wine. Aemond looked down at his sleeping niece and smiled. She was such a perfect little thing. Whilst her features bore a strong resemblance to Jacaerys, her head was graced with a tiny tuft of silver hair. Yet her older brother Jaehaerys was dark haired and looked more like Aegon.
Aemond wondered what his children would look like. Would they have his silver hair or would they have his Omega’s dark curly locks.
He had thought he would like to have a son first, but as he held his niece, Aemond knew he wouldn’t mind a daughter. A little girl who would sleep on his chest as he read to her, a little girl who would cling to him as he took her on flights with Vhagar. A little girl who he would hold in his heart forever.
Suddenly Aemond was snapped out of his reverie by Maela shrieking loudly.
“She can’t be hungry again” groused Aegon.
“Well, whatever she needs. Only her mother can provide” replied Aemond as he handed Maela to Aegon and returned his attention to Valaera who was still talking to Alyn.
“You’re going to burn a hole in Alyn’s head if you carry on looking at him like that” muttered Jace as he wrapped an arm around Aegon who was busy trying to sooth their daughter.
“I will look however I please” snarled Aemond.
“Oh, for the love of-“ groaned Jace as he spotted Alyn gently placing a hand on Valaera’s arm.
“Aemond. Don’t even think about it” warned Aegon as Jace quickly manoeuvred him and Maela away from Aemond.
HE DARES TO TOUCH WHAT IS MINE!!
Aegon’s warning fell on deaf ears, as Aemond charged across the throne room and viciously shoved Alyn away from Valaera.
“Aemond-What” squeaked Valaera in surprise.
“Don’t ever presume to touch my Omega again” snapped Aemond.
“I-I wasn’t. I-I didn’t mean too” stuttered Alyn.
“Alpha please. You’re making a scene” whispered Valaera.
“I think you need to go and cool off brother” urged Aegon.
“Fuck off Aegon”
“Hey. Don’t speak to my mate like that. We are supposed to be celebrating my daughter’s birth and your ruining it” snapped Jace.
“Fine” retorted Aemond as he turned on his heel and stormed out of the throne room, completely ignoring his mother’s concerned calls.
“I better go after him” muttered Valaera sheepishly.
Stupid Beta thinking he can touch my Omega. Who does he think he is. I should go back in there and…
“Aemond. Wait”.
“What’s with the touching. Why was he touching you?” growled Aemond as he abruptly stopped in the middle of the corridor.
“I felt a little faint and Alyn was just helping me” muttered Valaera as she collided with Aemond.
“Why what’s happened. Do you need a maester?” asked Aemond his anger over Alyn overridden by his concern for Valaera.
“No, I don’t need a maester” replied Valaera.
“Are you sure. If you’re sick, then mayhaps we should get you checked over just to be sure”.
Oh, I knew something was wrong. Valaera’s scent has been different these last few days.
“I’m not sick. Well, I am but…”
I knew it. Something’s wrong. We’ve only been married a few months. I know can’t live without her. I need her to be ok.
“Tell me please Issa dōna omega” murmured Aemond (My sweet omega).
“Alpha. Nyke rūsīr riñnykeā” (I am with child).
“T-Truly” gasped Aemond.
“It might have happened during my heat, but yes, my love. Nyke carry mirrī zaldrīzes iemnȳ hen issa” (I carry a little dragon inside of me).
“My Valaera. My sweet” whispered Aemond as he cupped Valaera’s face in his hands and placed a gentle kiss upon his Omega’s lips.
“A little piece of you and me. Together” mouthed Valaera as she took one of Aemond’s hands and lowered it to her stomach.
She was with child. His Omega was carrying his pup. He was going to be a father.
“Thank you, Issa prūmia” (My heart).
“I guess your possessiveness makes sense now” said Valaera as she wrapped her arms around Aemond and held him close.
 Yes, it did. The need to protect Valaera. The urge to be close. It all made sense now. His Alpha was roaring his delight at impregnating his beautiful Omega.
“I was merely acting on instinct”.
I cannot wait until Valaera’s belly starts swelling. Everyone will see. They will all know who’s babe dwells within. His sweet Valaera all round and soft. Breasts swollen with milk. The thought was very pleasing.
So, pleasing in fact that Aemond could feel himself growing hard in his breeches.
“Please. Alpha” whined Valaera sensing his arousal as she stood on her tip toes and pressed a series of desperate kisses to Aemond’s lips.
“Hm” growled Aemond.
“T-Take me. Please. I need you” begged Valaera.
Aemond didn’t need telling twice. He took his Omega’s hand, and they made their way back to their chambers with every intention of having their own celebration that would end up lasting well into the hours of the night.
As dawn broke, Valaera was far to satisfied and exhausted to even think of leaving the bed. Sharing their good news with the rest of the family would have to wait, until Valaera was sure she could actually walk.
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“Drakari pykiros, Tīkummo jemiros, Yn lantyz bartossa, Saelot vāedis” (Fire breather, winged leader, but two heads, to a third sing).
Valaera closed his eyes at the sound of Aemond’s voice.
“Perzyro udrȳssi, Ezīmptos laehossi, Hārossa letagon, Aōt vāedan” (With words of flame, with clear eyes, to bind the three, to you I sing).
Valaera smiled as he felt Aemond rest his head on the round swell of his stomach.
“Hae mērot gierūli:, Se hāros bartossi, Prūmȳsa sōvīli, Gevī dāerī” (As one we gather, and with three heads, we shall fly as we were destined, beautifully, freely).
Ever since Valaera revealed she was carrying his child, Aemond had devoted himself to pouring over countless books in the library to gain as much information as he could about pregnancy and how to raise a pup. Apparently, he also found a book that said babes can hear sounds from the womb after the sixth moon of pregnancy. So, Aemond never missed a chance to spend time talking or singing to his stomach.
Valaera of course didn’t think too much of it at first, but as her stomach began to swell, and the babe began to kick, she noticed that he or she would always move around more whenever Aemond spoke.
Aemond of course was delighted when Valaera told him. She knew her Alpha was worried about becoming a father, given the fact his own wasn’t a very good one and it terrified Aemond most days, that he would turn out like Viserys.
But Valaera new deep down that Aemond would be a fantastic father, he was utterly devoted to their unborn pup.
“What do you think of the name Rhaegar” muttered Aemond.
“I like it” whispered Valaera.
“But…”
“I l-love you and if we have a son, I wish to honour you in some way, so I was thinking about Vhalarr” asked Valaera nervously twisting the bedsheets between her fingers.
“In honour of my dragon?”
Oh, he hates it. Such a stupid idea. Why did I have to say that? I’m such a fool.
Suddenly Valaera burst into tears.
“Hey, what’s wrong? Valaera. Laera, Talk to me my sweet” whispered Aemond as he moved up the bed and took the sobbing Omega into his arms.
“Y-You hate the name I chose and I-I j-just thought it would b-be nice to h-have an o-original name,” cried Valaera.
“I don’t hate it. I’m truly honoured that you wish to name our pup after my old girl”.
“I-I know how much Vhagar means to you and I just-“ squeaked Valaera as she buried her face into Aemond’s chest.
“Issa jorrāelagon, kostilus ȳdra daor cry” muttered Aemond as he ran his fingers through Valaera’s long dark curls (My love, please don’t cry).
“I-I’m s-sorry. I-I c-can’t help it” sniffed Valaera as she wiped his nose on the sleeve of her robe.
Alpha is here. He will comfort me. He will make everything better.
“Avy jorrāelan sīr olvie Aemond” (I love you so much).
“I love you too Issa dōna” (my sweet).
“S-So you like the name?” asked Valaera, her voice still slightly muffled.
“I do and if we have a son, I will stand proud as he’s given the name his Muña chose” whispered Aemond as he gently lifts Valaera’s face from his chest and places a gentle kiss on her forehead (Mother).
“I-I’m sorry for crying. I just feel so emotional lately”.
“It’s fine. Your carrying our pup” replied Aemond as he rubbed Valaera’s stomach.
“T-Thank you for being so understanding” sniffed Valaera.
Aemond simply smiled and held Valaera tighter. He knew Valaera had been feeling overwhelmed lately with all of the changes her body was going through and as an Alpha he had a duty to soothe and protect his mate, during her delicate time.
After Valaera had fallen asleep, Aemond took the time to admire his Omega’s features. The long dark silky curls, the pale Targaryen skin, her perfectly shaped plump lips. The dark eyes. He once scorned Valaera for her ‘strong’ yet entirely coincidental resemblance to the former commander of the city watch, yet in truth she was wholly unique, in the sea of silver and amethyst.
As he closed his eye, Aemond knew with absolute certainty that he was where he was meant to be.
“A-Aemond. Valzȳrys” whispered Valaera as she gently shook his sleeping Alpha (Husband).
“Hm”
“Aemond. Wake up” urged Valaera.
“Valaera” grumbled Aemond as he began to rouse from his slumber.
“I can’t sleep”.
“Is everything ok? Is it the pup?” exclaimed Aemond as he shot up in alarm.
“The pup is fine. I-I need…Honey cakes”.
“Cake? You’ve woke me up because of cake?” asked Aemond rubbing his eye.
“I can’t stop thinking about it” muttered Valaera.
“Can’t you just wait until morning?” grumbled Aemond.
“No. I can’t sleep because I’m hungry and I keep thinking about cake”.
“Is this like the time you couldn’t stop thinking about pears” mused Aemond.
“That was weeks ago. But yes, it’s exactly the same. I-I can’t help it”.
Aemond sighed and got out of bed. Praying to the seven that the kitchens had some honey cakes left over.
“Avy jorrāelan issa zaldrīzes” (I love you my dragon).
“I’m sure you do Issa prūmia” replied Aemond as he quickly pulled on his breeches and a loose tunic. (My heart).
“Kirimvose” (Thank you).
“Hm” muttered Aemond as he gave Valaera a quick kiss and left their shared chambers.
The Red Keep was eerily silent as Aemond wandered through the corridors towards the kitchens. No doubt the nighttime appearance of a Prince in the kitchens would give the maids something to gossip about for the next few days.
I should be asleep. Yet here I am trawling through the Red Keep in search of Honey Cakes for my Omega.
Aemond Targaryen rider of the mighty Vhagar the last living remnant of Aegon's conquest, reduced to a simple errand boy.
Last time it was pears, this time it’s honey cakes. Whatever next?
This is the last time. I’m being serious. If she wants pears or cakes then next time- Oh, who am I kidding, I will get my sweet Omega anything she wants, whatever it takes to make her happy, anything to see that sweet smile.
Luckily Aemond’s journey to the kitchens was rather uneventful, even if the cook did give him a strange look as she handed over a basket of honey cakes.
Back in his chambers, Aemond quickly decided that it had all been worth it. To see Valaera happily eating her beloved honey cakes made his Alpha pleased that he was taking care of his mate and their unborn pup.
“Right. Now that you’ve got your cakes. I’m going back to bed” exclaimed Aemond as he tugged off his tunic and breeches.
“Well, actually there was something else-“ whispered Valaera as she wiped cake crumbs from around her mouth.
“Oh no what” huffed Aemond momentarily horrified.
However, his horror was rather short lived as his Omega began pulling off her shift.
“I-I desire the touch of my husband”. 
“Is-Is that right?” growled Aemond.
“Please Alpha, I want your knot” begged Valaera as she wrapped her arms around her Alpha’s neck and kissed him. Letting out a small moan as she slid her tongue into Aemond’s mouth.
Aemond smirked as he backed his Omega towards the bed.
A good Alpha should always take care of their Omega.
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rubra-wav · 2 months
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Omgg, I need a Rosie x fem!Reader fic, where she introduces you to Alastor like her partner 😭💕
Rosie x introducing reader to Alastor
A/N: Today is Rosie day apparently bc I got 2 reqs I'm gonna be (hopefully at least) getting written abt her today.
I'm really sorry I just realised you said fic on this one, lmk if you'd like me to write it as a proper fic 💀
Cw: Sfw, Fem reader, slightly twisted fluff, cannibalism, kinda messed up relationship origin story haha
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- When Rosie had brought out the tea set with a mixture of treats for Alastor and herself, and different sweets for you, you could feel yourself getting anxious about the meeting to come.
- You'd been dating the overlord for a little while now. With the 7th month approaching, Rosie wanted you to meet one of her longest friends.
- Wanted to solidify that you were her girlfriend more permanently.
- The public eye wasn't on you at all luckily due to you living in a town surrounded by ravenous cannibals who would protect you with tooth and nail due to dating their leader.
- However, during the time you'd been together, Rosie continued to receive suitors, which was uncomfortable for both of you.
- So she figured that she would start trying to make an effort to tell people she was in a completely monogamous relationship, one person at a time. Starting with her good friend Al, naturally.
- You truly didn't mind, but it was a little bit nerve-wracking meeting another overlord. Especially one who was long time friends with your lover.
- Rosie noticed you fidgeting nervously with your hands, looking down at the table set out before you.
- She let out a soft sigh and put down the box of tea bags she had been fussing with the choices of, walking to stand behind you and place her hands on your shoulders.
- "You'll be fine, heart! He's gonna love you. Maybe even half as much as I do!" She chuckled as your slightly unsure face peered backwards up at her.
- She leaned down to place a soft kiss on your forehead, prompting you to relax and smile softly.
- As she did so, there was the sound of someone clearing their throat behind the two of you.
- You two turned to see the very recognisable Radio Demon standing there looking somewhat uncomfortable at the display of affection. You didn't even hear him approach the outdoor sitting area.
- "Good afternoon, ladies." Alastor recovered quickly as Rosie moved to properly greet him with a big hug, and you rose from your seat with a somewhat strained smile.
- As the two cannibal overlords embraced, you got a stab of being out of place... inadequate in comparison. I mean, you were just some nobody dating the (essentially) mayor of cannibal town, you were surely out of place in such company.
- You were knocked from your thoughts as you felt your hand taken and shaken, Alastor leaning down to get a closer look at you with an elated grin.
- "And you must be (name)! Brilliant to meet you darling, Rose has told me so much about you, it really is a pleasure!" He exclaimed, shaking your hand so enthusiastically you thought you might fall over if he kept it up.
- "Y-yes! It's very nice to meet you Al-" you startled, before correcting yourself. "Alastor! I mean. Sorry!" You apologised profusely for addressing him so informally.
- The man shook his head with a staticky bark of laughter. "Nonsense! Anyone who's this close to Rosie I see as a friend! Do feel free to call me Al, darling." He let go of your hand, finally ceasing the relentless handshake to go and take a seat at the table, musing to himself the whole way about how fun this was going to be.
- Rosie laughed softly at the surprise on your face, wrapping an arm around your lower back and guiding you toward the loveseat across from your grinning guest.
- Afternoon tea with Alastor went along swimmingly despite your prior stress about it.
- The whole time, your fingers were laced together with Rosie's as the three of you laughed and conversed cordially.
- "So, do tell me, how did you ladies meet one another?" Alastor asked, taking a sip of his tea with his red eyes flicking between the two of you.
- You laughed awkwardly, looking to Rosie with a slightly hesitant expression as to whether you should tell the truth exactly or not.
- Rosie shrugged, somewhat hesitant about it as well.
- You gulped, recollecting it all. "Well, my Rose and I met under.. inopportune circumstances." You said slowly, voice raising an octave at the end.
- Alastor put down his cup of tea with his eyebrows raised expectantly. "Oh~?" He looked all the more curious now.
- You took a deep breath, and Rosie chuckled next to you. "Well," Rosie picked up where you left off. "It's kind of funny now, but wasn't at the time that's for sure. She stumbled into the town's walls with a bleeding knee and the cannibals converged on her, trying to take her as a gift for me. It was my birthday the day afterwards, you see." The cannibal explained, talking with her hands as she told the story.
- Alastor looked at you in surprise. "My, that would have been quite a strange situation for you (name)."
- "it... sure was, yes. They brought me to her gagged and wrapped up in a big pink ribbon." You thought back in some unsureness. "They wanted to cook my heart particularly for her birthday meal, but wanted her to actually approve of me before serving me."
- Alastor laughed loudly at your words, shaking his head as he fought to compose yourself. "And what, she decided you looked like you tasted bad?" He looked at Rosie for more context, to find her shaking her head with a somewhat irritated look on her face.
- "Not at all, she looked far too good to eat. People like my husband belong on a platter, not those like my heart," Rosie looked to the side down at you with a fond smile. "I knew that even before we spoke."
- You blushed and smiled warmly at her, squeezing her hand as you looked lovingly up at her.
- "The second I looked into those big beautiful black eyes of her's, I knew I wanted to be with her. Weird I know to be on someone's literal chopping block and thinking that way." You chuckled, looking back at Alastor with a grin.
- Alastor grinned right back at you, expression softening slightly as he leaned his cheek on his palm. "Yes, however I'm glad to see that Rosie seems to be so happy with you. You two make an excellent pair from what I've seen."
- You and Rosie chuckled, agreeing with him. Definitely.
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Helpppp now I kinda wanna write a prequel part 2 for their meeting aaa. I could call it 'Eat Your Heart Out or Give You Mine.'✨️😭
Or sumn like that.
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blakeswritingimagines · 10 months
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Dating Yandere Daemon Targaryen would include:
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If he wanted, he would force you to kneel before him. He will force you to beg for mercy. He will force you to grovel and lick his boots. He might force you to say demeaning and horrible things about yourself, about how you are worthless, and how he is your only master. He will force you to do anything, and he would not stop until you were completely broken, until you realized that you were nothing, and he was everything.
He will also force you to work for him or beside him, performing menial tasks or even some of the more difficult ones. He might even force you to take on some of the more dangerous tasks, or put you in harm’s way in the process of accomplishing his goals. Anything he feels you are capable of doing, he will force you to do. And you would comply, because you know that if you did not, you would face punishment. He would not be merciful.
He might force you to do other things, things you don’t want to do, but he finds amusing. He might force you to go without sleep and to tire yourself out, just for his amusement. He might force you to do humiliating tasks, or cruel and degrading things. He might force you to hurt yourself, if that is what pleases him. He will force you to do many things, just for him.
He would be possessive over you. No other person would be allowed to talk to you. If he caught you speaking to another, even to make polite conversation, he would become enraged. He would be obsessed with controlling and protecting you. He would lock you away in his palace to ensure that you do not escape and has no opportunity to meet with another behind his back. He would not allow you to leave him. You would be the only thing in his life, and he would be consumed by his jealousy and obsession with you.
He would follow you everywhere. He would take whatever means to protect you. He would threaten anyone who looked at you. He would be possessive and obsessive. He would keep you close by his side. Any rival suitors would be disposed of in whatever manner was necessary, so you would be his and his alone. He would do horrible things in the name of love. Anything for you.
He would become extremely possessive of you. He would constantly be watching you, wanting to be with you, and to keep all other men or lovers away from you. He would do his best to isolate you from everyone else, to keep you all to himself. He would be extremely jealous whenever you would talk to another or show any interest in anyone else. He would do everything in his power to make you feel and know that he is the only one for you.
He would stalk you, try to find out as much as he can about you, about what you like and dislike, about your routines and patterns. He would plan ways to be alone with you and to spend time together. He would be controlling, he would use every manipulation and scheme in his power to achieve his goal of making you be with him, and with him only. He would be determined, and relentless. He would be ruthless.
He sees you as a prize to be won. He will go to great lengths to protect and provide for you. He will do whatever is necessary to ensure your loyalty and commitment to him. He is passionate and intense. He is relentless in his pursuit. He will never give up.
He’s obsessed with his darling, and he would do anything for you. He’s willing to sacrifice everything and everyone, including himself, to keep you, and he’ll become extremely possessive and jealous. He can be quite violent and ruthless at times, but he can also be incredibly sweet and charming when he needs to be. He will use any means necessary to maintain control of you and keep you all to himself. He will go as far as he needs to in order to secure your love and devotion, and he won't stop until you're his forever.
He would watch from the shadows as you spent time with other people. He would grow increasingly anxious and jealous, unable to focus on anything but the thought of you being with someone else. His mind would fill with scenarios of other people making a move on you, or worse.
He would find ways to make sure you were always with him, even at your own expense. He would force you into spending more time with him, and he would use guilt trips and threats to ensure you obeyed his wishes.
As his obsession grew, he would become volatile. He would experience fits of jealousy and rage when he was not with you, and he would lash out violently against people who came near you or were perceived to be a threat. He would also become incredibly possessive, demanding you stay with him at all times. He might even go so far as to lock you in a room or even kill anyone who came too close to you.
He would shower you with gifts and affection, trying to make you feel loved and wanted so that you would not seek that attention elsewhere. He would also be very controlling and possessive, constantly monitoring your movements and your interactions with others, and he would not hesitate to use guilt, threats, and manipulation to get you to obey him. He would also isolate you from your friends and loved ones and try to make sure that your whole world revolved around him.
His possessiveness and paranoia would push you away, leaving you with few options but to leave. But his love for you would not let you go so easily. He would become enraged, vowing to punish those who forced you away from him. If you dared to move on from him, he would use threats, violence, and even murder to bring you back. It is his worst fear, and he would fight with all his being to prevent it.
As his obsession reached its peak, he would no longer see you as a person, but as his possession. He would treat you like his property to be kept, and he would view any attempts to leave him or spend time with others as a challenge to be overcome. He would become violent, abusive, and obsessive, using any means necessary to keep you. He would control every aspect of your life and force you to obey his every command.
In extreme cases, he may become manipulative and even delusional. He might try and gaslight you into believing that he is the only person you should trust, and everyone else is out to get you. He would create a warped and twisted reality in which everyone is against you both, and only he can protect you. His behavior may become increasingly erratic and out of touch with reality.
In all these cases, he would justify his actions as being for your own good, but it would only be to gain more control and possess you.
He absolutely loves it when you leave scratches on his back. The deeper, the better. He wants to look in the mirror and see the marks you left on him for days at a time. He wears them like a badge of honor.
When you’re giving him a hand-job, he loves having you in his lap, kissing him while you twist your tightened fist around his aching length. If you have him in your mouth than he’ll love it when you keep eye contact with him, slapping his cock against your tongue or hollowing your cheeks around him while he holds the back of your head. 
He definitely has a breeding kink and I refuse to believe otherwise. He’ll try to keep it from you for as long as he can but it isn’t long before the dirty talk slips out and you’re confronted with the truth. Once you explain that you’re fine with it, he gets absolutely filthy: don’t be surprised if he starts talking like a man possessed while you’re in the middle of things. 
He’d also be into a bit of biting. The two of you would be in the heat of the moment and he’d grow feverish, biting down on your shoulder harshly and tugging at the flesh before running his tongue against the wound soothingly. It’s somewhat instinctual so it’s not particularly something he can help; though he’ll try his hardest not to do it if you really don’t want him to. 
Daemon is secretly soft for you, so expect to have him pressing kisses to your skin every other minute and running his hands down your body.
He’s a dom, but it isn’t really set in stone. He likes giving commands and being a bit of a jerk, so there’s obviously going to be a power struggle, but occasionally he’ll just pause and say “Fine. Give it your best shot.” and enjoy the ride.
Sit on his face!, regardless if he's the one not getting pleasure from it he very much enjoys seeing the blissful look on your face or when your eyes roll back when he keeps going after you came.
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thedemonofcat · 8 months
Text
It had been some time since Jaskier fled from his home in Lettenhove. Born as Lady Juliana Pankratz, Jaskier had known from a young age that he was transgender. Realizing his parents would never accept him as a boy, he bravely decided to run away.
While at Oxenfurt as a student, Jaskier initially adopted the name Juilan. It was there that someone had suggested he choose a stage name for his future career as a bard, and thus, Jaskier became the name he was known by.
The life of a travelling bard provided Jaskier with the freedom he cherished. While some, like his parents, refused to acknowledge his true identity, Geralt, the witcher he had chosen as his friend and even grown to love, always saw him for who he truly was.
Then, a fateful encounter with a mountain changed everything. Heartbroken and unrecognizable to Geralt, Jaskier inadvertently strayed too close to Lettenhove. In the blink of an eye, he found himself forcibly returned to his family estate.
In no time, Jaskier was trapped back in Lettenhove, compelled by his parents to assume the role of Juliana once more. He was forced into restrictive and uncomfortable dresses, compelled to grow out his hair, and subjected to their relentless attempts to shape him into the perfect lady. To make matters worse, a guard was assigned to him, making any escape plan impossible.
Then, one fateful day, Jaskier's parents made a startling announcement—they would be holding a competition to determine who would marry their daughter. Suitors from far and wide arrived to vie for Jaskier's hand in marriage.
Most of these suitors were either dreadfully dull or insufferably obnoxious. Some were motivated solely by the power and title that marrying Jaskier would bestow them. Others mistake their arrival for the start of an epic love story. Perhaps most horrifyingly, a few expected Jaskier to be meek and submissive, allowing them to control him while he served as nothing more than a vessel for bearing children.
However, amidst this assembly of suitors, one mysterious figure caught Jaskier's attention—a knight who always wore a helmet to conceal their identity and remained curiously silent. Unlike the others, this knight did not seek attention or engage in showboating.
Yet something about this enigmatic competitor struck a chord with Jaskier—a strange sense of familiarity.
Little did Jaskier know, the concealed knight was none other than Geralt, who had secretly entered the competition in a daring attempt to rescue Jaskier from his dire predicament.
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jymwahuwu · 9 months
Note
Hmmm but what if the situation is reserved? This time, it readers who need a fake boyfriend???
Readers who are in tight situation and begrudgingly plead Jing Yuan to be their fake boyfriend for a while
(maybe to avoid another relentless suitor and then in the moment of panic, reader pick up the phone who has been ringing non stop and tell this person "sorry, my lover is calling. Hey dear" without looking at the caller name.)
(Jing Yuan hear everything)
sorry🥺 it took so long to reply, cuz there are too many in the askbox. im slowly writing some drafts
TW: yandere, non-con, taking pictures without consent
What do you mean by "fake boyfriend"? Now your real boyfriend is in front of you 🤔😚
…Although Jing Yuan thought so, he didn't say it. He nodded in acquiescence to your request - you looked like you were on the verge of tears, startled by that creepy suitor.
You definitely need some protection and care. He wiped away your tears and resisted the urge to take you in his arms. The general is delighted to hear you address him as "boyfriend". He pretends to give you advice, offers to go on a date, and posts on social media. Then that suitor will give up! You say yes, thinking it was just acting, but this date really feels like a real date…Jing Yuan even kisses you on the cheek. You accuse him in a panic, but he says it's part of acting with grievance.
After sending you home like a good boyfriend, the general finally couldn't help pulling you onto the bed, holding you down, and kissing you. You sob and gasp under him.
Jing Yuan took a picture between your cum filled slits, and that shows all the details pretty clearly. He just wants to help, accept this, okay? <3<3
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ybon-paramoux · 1 year
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‘Der Unerbittliche Freier’ (The Relentless Suitor), 1931
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artmialma · 1 year
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Paul Grabwinkler (1880-1946)
 “Der Unerbittliche Freier” -The Relentless Suitor       1931
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doodle-pops · 7 months
Text
Modern AU: Brother's Best Friend
Headcanons: Maedhros, Celegorm, Fingon, Angrod, Egalmoth, Beleg
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A/N: Back with my Modern AU headcanons, I decided to switch it up for a change today. They're quite long since I did both headcanons and fic for more content. Enjoy!!
Warnings: fembod, exhibitionism, cunnilingus (face sitting and from behind), vaginal penetration, fingering
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‧₊˚ ☁️⋅♡𓂃 ࣪ ִֶָ. Maedhros
He’s always softer and protective around you and even scolds your brother for being too harsh. You can count on him to be at your beck and call whenever something is off, and you require assistance.
Quick to compliment your outfits and throw a secretive wink. His eyes are always on your figure whenever you're walking around the house. Your brother could be chatting his head off and his eyes are on you (he’s using his handsome looks to benefit him).
Wards off all suitors and would even threaten a few to ensure that no one else but him can have you. This means that whenever your brother is asleep in the next room at night, you can bet he’s already slithered into your room to have his filthy way with you.
He’s ruthless and a menace about it. Part of you would think that he doesn’t care whether your brother caught him or not, but it was just the thrill of having consecutive rendezvous.
The loud thuds of the bedhead knocking against the wall alerted you of the volume and aggression he was pounding into you, though, it appeared that Maedhros had no care in the world. He was lost in your heat and all that mattered was you cumming around his cock and him filling you up.
Sweaty skin rubbed against one another, and your hands were fighting to catch a firm grip on his arms while his hips expertly twisted and angled themselves to aim for that one spot right off the bat. While his mouth had covered yours to swallow your moans, he was still sinfully wicked to force them out.  “M-Mae…please…ngghh—”
The wicked gleam in his eyes as he broke the kiss and pulled away to lift your right leg and hook it over his shoulder urged a squeak to follow. He was relentless as his hips continuously worked their way against yours. Every touch had your body on fire. “You don’t sound like you want me to stop princess? Do you hear that? Listen…”
Forcing yourself to listen to want he wanted you to hear, you gasp at the lewd sounds of your cunt squelching as his cock drove deeper and deeper. You wanted to look down to where you were both connected, but the harsh thrust he sent your way made you bury your face into the pillow. Your brother had to be drunk or sick to not hear a single sound emitting from your room, even the knocking of the bedhead.
“Fuck Mae! I’m s-so close—”
Leaning into your neck to kiss your pulse, he gave a little nibble before steadying his hips once he felt the tightness around him increasing. “Go ahead princess, cum all over my cock. Show me just how filthy my friend’s little sister is…”
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‧₊˚ ☁️⋅♡𓂃 ࣪ ִֶָ. Celegorm
He looks like a fuckboy and acts like he’s the biggest and best out of them all, but it’s all a façade. Deep down, he simply tags along with the latest gossip about him so long as it isn’t ruining the reputation of Mr Popular.
As your brother’s bestie, he’s always over and doesn’t know how to be subtle about anything he says or does. If you’re wearing something revealing, he’s biting his lip or raking his eyes from head to toe, and in return, he’ll walk around shirtless to capture your attention.
Compliments roll off his tongue and nicknames are attached to them. Whether it be ‘princess’, ‘dollface’, ‘babygirl’, kitten’, or ‘vixen’, those are his names for you alone. No one had the privilege to use them; only he can shamelessly flirt with you.
Loves to act like the big bad wolf or fake boyfriend so you can come running to him, proving to your brother that he can trust and protect you. He really does that to corrupt you to end up as his plaything until you submit.
“What’s the matter kitten, cat got your tongue? What happened to all that noise you were making earlier?” His sickeningly patronising grin was hidden from your line of sight as he pressed you against the wall in the corridor of your house and buried his face between your legs.
Taking his large hands, he parted your thighs and spread your ass apart so his tongue could reach your puss better and have a taste. The vicious swirls of his tongue against your clit once his tongue came in contact with your sensitive bud forced a squeak from your lips. Not once did Celegorm cease his actions despite your brother and the rest of his friends lounging downstairs. If they heard, then so be it. Right now, he was having dessert.
Nipping and circling your clit with his teeth and tongue, he enjoyed the squeaks and squelches emanating from you with each ministration. Wanting to dive deeper, he pressed you into the wall and arched your back so your ass would meet his face and his tongue would slip into your slit. The sound of slick being slurped by him shamelessly ricocheted throughout the upper floor and prompted you to push against and away from him. “Relax dollface, no one is going to interrupt us,” his voice muffled by your pussy as a slap came down on your ass to silence your whines. “Enjoy what I’m giving you.”
Panting like you were in labour, your nails scraped the paint off the wall from the palpability of his actions. He was relentless and showed no signs of stopping until you came upon his face, even if it was in the open corridor. Feeling the languid rolls and thrusts of his tongue, your eyes rolled back, and your body began convulsing.
“That’s it princess, cum all over my face. Show me just how sweet your pussy is.”
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‧₊˚ ☁️⋅♡𓂃 ࣪ ִֶָ. Fingon
Your brother trusts him so much that not even for a second he would suspect that his best friend had already locked his eyes on his little sister. All the sweet interactions between you and Fingon before your brother’s eyes were all a candy show.
In secrecy and right before his eyes, Fingon was staking his claim on you from the simple gestures of brushing your hair out the way, complementing your outfit or racking his eyes up and down your figure when you wear a little too-revealing dress.
For your brother’s sake of fearing when other people approach you, Fingon would pretend to be your boyfriend and when your brother’s back was turned, he’d have you all to himself.
It’s all a part of fulfilling his role and duty as your boyfriend. Smug, seductive and highly secretive, it’s more your brother being blind to the obvious actions of his best friend fucking you right in the kitchen while he’s playing games.
“Shush, princess. Not so loud now. You don’t want your dear old brother to catch us? What would he say about you getting fucked by his best friend?” his voice was beyond stable for someone drilling into you rapidly. Even the stable mocking tone he displayed made your walls clenched around his cock causing him to hiss.
The faint sound of skin slapping against each other echoed in the kitchen and faintly in the living room while it reverberated loudly in the pantry you were cooped up in. The straps of your top were rolled down your shoulder, shorts off and panties pushed to the side with one leg hooked on his hip. Your fingers were fighting to catch a good grip with the way his hips were battering against yours. “F-Finno…slowly down…too much, ngghh—” Your words were cut off by a squeak when he pinched your clit.
“Too much? Oh no princess, this is more than enough. It’s what you wanted, craved—walking around in those shorts and expecting that I wouldn’t scold you…” His voice trailed off when he decided to look down and notice you creaming all over him. “So fucking innocent aren’t you? Look at the mess you made sweetheart…all for me,” he cooed in your ear before giving it a nibble and dropping to your neck.
Digging your nails into his shirt and tugging him closer as the heat and pressure grew, your body began trembling from the high levels of sensation and thrill of being caught. Any moment now, your brother would come looking for you and Fingon. “Fin-…Finno, close, close…please…”
“Go ahead princess, give it all to me.”
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‧₊˚ ☁️⋅♡𓂃 ࣪ ִֶָ. Angrod
With his stern and stoic appearance, you were afraid to approach him at first since he barely spoke to you at all, but you were wrong. The way he looked at you whenever you entered the room told a different story.
He came off as a tsundere at first, always grumbling and keeping his distance, but that was just a façade to show your brother that he was serious about the bro code—not that he cared about it at all.
Any chance he had with you alone, he would strike to corner you against some surface and lock lips or run his hands up and down your body, marvelling at your figure. Whispering about how he wants you terribly and what he’ll do to you.
Your brother trusts him so much with your safety that he doesn’t realise that he’s giving Angrod exactly the time he wants to have you all to himself, and he must thank your brother for that.
Windows foggy despite the tinted glass, bare legs wrapped around an aggressive waistline and hands struggling to grip some surface, you and Angrod were trapped in the backseat of his car. His lips were attached to yours, sucking the life out of you while his hips pumped vigorously into yours. No matter how much you attempted to catch your breath, he knocked it out of your chest.
“An-…Angrod…fuck! Oh my god!” you whined against his lips as he broke the kiss to stare into the darkness between you both at his cock sliding in and out of your cunt. The lewd sounds of sweaty skins slapping against each other and the slickness of his cock pumping into your cunt traversed the car.
“I seriously…ngghh, need to thank your brother for this…opportunity. Couldn’t have done it without him,” he groaned and breathed against your neck when your walls clamped down on him. The feel of your gummy walls around his cock was divine after all those months of waiting. “I’ll have to send him a gift; his little sister is not so innocent anymore…huh?”
Widening your eyes at the suggestion, your legs naturally tightened around his waist for him to finish inside you and return to your brother. The thrill of being claimed by his best friend was exhilarating, and you didn’t want for this to be the only occurrence. Nodding your head with glossy eyes, you whined and begged him, “P-Please, Angrod…fill me up, ruin me! P-…Please!”
Loving the teary look in your eyes, he couldn’t be more pleased to comply with his princess's wishes. “Anything you ask for princess.”
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‧₊˚ ☁️⋅♡𓂃 ࣪ ִֶָ. Egalmoth
He will outrightly flirt with you before your brother’s eyes but in a more subtle manner to not make things awkward or to break the bro code. In private when your brother isn’t there, he’ll lay all the sexual innuendos while cornering you.
His eyes are always dark and glossy whenever he’s staring at you and if anyone ever noticed him, they would understand the meaning of his gaze. Egalmoth has no shame in eye-fucking you as you stand before him and ask if he likes your outfit.
Always biting or licking his lips whenever he’s speaking with you (that is when no one’s around) or making some serious sexual eye contact. You could feel his desire to fuck you every time he’s around you.
It’s awfully easy for Egalmoth to have his way with you, even when your brother is around because he’s just smooth and naturally mysterious with his actions. The both of you could be sitting beside each other and your brother wouldn’t have a clue.
The images on the screen were bright but blurred with the vigorous motion of two fingers pumping in and out of your cunt at a steady pace. Given the dark settings of the room and the blanket that covered both you and Egalmoth—since the cold air conditioner was the excuse—your bother was oblivious to Egalmoth fucking you under the covering. All your attempts at stifling your moans were vanishing the faster his fingers worked.
“Eg-…Egalmoth…ughh…” you moaned into his neck while his lips were by your ear whispering intense levels of filth.
“Are you cum all over my fingers pretty girl, huh? Right in front of your brother? I thought you were innocent babygirl?” he taunted while nibbling on your earlobe. His fingers in accordance dug deeper and curled against your soft spot, earning him a sharp pain to his biceps. Your nails were clawing into his bare arm and leaving moon crescents. “You look so pretty when you when you cry like that.”
Breathlessly wheezing, you pushed your face into his neck deeper and clung to him while cutting your clueless brother a look from the corner of your eye. His eyes were still glued to the show which meant that Egalmoth wasn’t letting up. “He’ll catch us…hurry up…ngghh.”
Pulling his fingers out and laughing at your whines, he pushed three in this time and immediately went after your soft spot. Curling and pressing against your gummy walls and relishing in its softness, he groaned into your ear, “After you’ve cum all over my fingers princess, you’re cum on my cock later, hmm? But you gotta cum for me first baby…”
Thrusting your hips upwards as he rocked his fingers, the coil and pressure grew instantaneously, and came all over his fingers. A loud squelch echoed when he withdrew his fingers and brought them to his lips to have a taste. Maintaining eye contact as he did so when he was finished, he leaned over to land a chaste kiss on your lips and whispered, “You taste good, but I want more.”
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‧₊˚ ☁️⋅♡𓂃 ࣪ ִֶָ. Beleg
No one would ever suspect he was already fucking you behind your brother’s back. Not the sweet, friendly and charming boy who was friends with everyone and all the animals loved. Not the sweet boy would do voluntary work at the community centre.
Beleg was the last person anyone would assume to be visiting you, when he was away at college behind your brother’s back, to spend some quality time with his princess. He would make the extra effort to make the trip to spend a few hours and then vanish.
Always complimenting, in private, how beautiful you looked in your outfit and getting filthier with he was fucking you. Making sure that you understood just how much he wanted to let everyone know you were a spectacle in your outfit.
He uses friendly flirtations to get away with having your all to himself when your brother wasn’t looking. Whether it be in your house or away at college, Beleg was making it his business to see his favourite babygirl.
“You know, you can make all the nose you want, right princess? Your brother’s fast asleep, he can’t hear us.” His puppy eyes flashed up at you while you sat without your underwear, on his chest. He was attempting to have you sit on his face since it was the first time in months he was seeing you, and you were fucking without your brother hovering (though he was sleeping next door). “Come have a seat love, I missed you.”
From rubbing your thighs with his thumbs, his hands gripped them with eagerness and dragged you forward to drop into his mouth. The minute you sat on his face; you squealed once his tongue wasted no time to reach out a lick a bold stripe. Twisting and flicking your clit, his lips formed a suction to suckle your clit while his fingers dug into your flesh and left prints.
Beleg was lost in paradise between your legs without a care in the world knowing that your brother was miles away and he had you all to himself. Every cry and moan you made, he devoured and dipped his tongue to push it past your folds. Hardening his tongue and thrusting it enthusiastically in and out, he groaned as your fingers entangled in his silvery strands and tugged. “Hmm, you’re so damn perfect every time I have you, but today…you’re even better…come on princess, be louder. Cum all over my face!”
“B-…Beleg, fuck! You feel so good!” you cried out as his hands urged your hips to rock against his mouth. You could see the gloss smeared on his nose and cheeks from the light, but Beleg didn’t seem to care. He was pleased to be between your legs and basking in paradise as he longed for. It irritated him that your brother was home, and he couldn’t behave as freely as desired, but he’ll make the moment worth it. Being away at college and not having you around was hellish.
“That's it, princess, just like that, you’re so close. You taste so good on my tongue,” he groaned before pressing his tongue against your clit for a languid flick.
Choking on a muffled sob, you had forgotten about keeping tabs on the door to ensure it wasn’t opened and tossed your head backwards. Your body was easily consumed in convulsed once the coil had snapped and released at the built-up pressure and frustration of missing Beleg. On his end, he had refused to let you escape his grip, pushing you into overstimulation all to have a taste.
“Let’s see if you can be a little louder, hmm? Round two.”
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Masterlist
Taglist: @lilmelily @eunoiaastralwings @koyunsoncizeri @ranhanabi777 @someoneinthestars @mysticmoomin @aconstructofamind @rain-on-my-umbrella @the-phantom-of-arda @singleteapot @wandererindreams @asianbutnotjapanese @ilu-stripes @justellie17 @justjane @silverose365 @bunson-burner @batsyforyou
110 notes · View notes
ikeromantic · 10 months
Note
Kyubei - Secret - 🤭
Alas, poor Kyubei. The suitor that deserves to be! Approx. 1700 words.
Kyubei had a secret. In the grand scheme of things, it wasn’t an important secret. No fortunes would be made or destroyed by it. No lives irrevocably changed. If it got out, there would be no wars fought over it or assassinations because of it. The secret was small and his and he held it in him like a child’s lantern held candle-light. The warm glow of knowing it made his life more bearable. 
“What are you smiling about?” Mitsuhide’s sharp gold gaze landed on him as he brought in the night’s reports. 
“Am I smiling?” Kyubei drew his mouth into a firm line. 
Akechi’s own mouth spread in a grin. “You were.”
“Then perhaps I am learning from you.” Kyubei did his best to imitate the razor sharp smile his lord was known for. And then, before more questions could come, he set his bundle down on Mitsuhide’s desk. “There are two missives from Kasugayama, one from Kyoto, and a full report from one of our eyes in the south.”
News would draw away the too-perceptive eye of his lord. And it did. Mitsuhide opened the bundle, long slim fingers graceful as they plucked the important papers from the rest that could be read later. 
Kyubei did not wait to be dismissed. He was already backing out with a bow when Mitsuhide glanced up. “Stay. I may have need of you yet.”
“Yes, my lord,” he replied. Because what other reply could he give? Kyubei settled in, watching Akechi read through the urgent reports. He already knew what was in them, and had a fair idea of what his lord would request done. Another agent sent south, some letters and payments to certain merchants that traveled through Kasugayama, and for Kyoto . . . 
His musings cut short as the door opened. The chatelaine stepped in with a tray of tea and some food. “I know you don’t break for lunch but I thought -” she paused as she noticed Kyubei standing there. “Oh! Hello!” 
“Princess.” Kyubei bowed, hoping the movement would hide his face long enough to subdue the sudden rush of heat in his cheeks. 
The chatelaine smiled at him shyly and tucked her hair over her ear. The tray wobbled in her remaining hand and he darted forward to take it from her. “Thank you. It would be just like me to make a mess when I’m trying to be helpful. I’m so clumsy.”
“You are as graceful as a deer, princess. Next time, ask me. I am pleased to help.” He couldn’t take his eyes off her face. She was so beautiful. 
“Ahaha, no - omg - no. No one has ever said I am like a deer.” She wasn’t laughing at him or his words, but at herself and it made Kyubei’s heart feel full to bursting to share this moment with her. 
Kyubei returned her smile with one of his own. “Then I am lucky to be the first. Though I am surely not to be the last to notice your beauty.”
And then Mitsuhide cleared his throat, reminding them both that he was there and an unwilling audience to this awkward, inappropriate moment. 
In just a heartbeat, Kyubei came crashing back to reality. To the world in which he was a vassal, a man that should not even look above the feet of an Oda princess. The warm glow of his secret fluttered in his chest, buffeted by the cold truth. He turned from her and set the tray on his lord’s desk without another word.
“S-sorry to distract you two,” the chatelaine told them. “I just wanted to make sure you ate something today. Besides whatever crumbs are in your pockets.” 
Mitsuhide gave a wry laugh. “I promise you, I eat when I am hungry. I do not need you to look after me. You or that meddlesome dragon.”
The chatelaine blinked in surprise. “I didn’t say anything about Masamune!”
“You didn’t have to. This has his mark all over it.” Mitsuhide sighed. “I suppose now that you’ve brought it, I must appreciate the effort appropriately. But you will stay and enjoy it with me.”
Kyubei saw his exit and gladly took it. “Then I will leave you both to -”
“No. Kyubei, why don’t you stay? Have a cup of tea.” Mitsuhide’s smile was relentless. 
“As you command.” He poured three cups of tea, tense and reluctant but determined not to give anything else away.
The chatelaine watched him with interest. “You’re so good at that. The perfect pour. Have you practiced?”
“Yes, have you?” Mitsuhide’s grin grew wider.
Kyubei swallowed. “Yes? I am always seeking to improve my service to the Akechi.” 
She laid a hand on his arm and the light touch sent heat coursing through him. “Maybe one of these days we can hang out and you can show me your technique.”
Which was exactly the sort of offer Kyubei dreamt of. Time alone with just the chatelaine. Spending time with her, listening to her. But he couldn’t say yes because he was only a vassal and she -
“I’d be happy to lend Kyubei to you for whatever you like. In fact, he’s an excellent instructor for many subjects.” Mitsuhide gave a nod. “You could start this evening.”
“I must - what?” His polite refusal halted as his lord’s words sunk in. 
The chatelaine clapped her hands excitedly. “That’s great! But . . . only if he wants to. You can’t loan him out like a bike, Mitsuhide!” She turned the full force of her gaze on Kyubei. “So, would you be willing?”
And of course, he couldn’t say no to her. Not when she looked at him like that. “I would be glad to,” he replied, which was the simple truth. 
Mitsuhide picked up his tea and took a sip. “Then that is settled.” 
The break felt to Kyubei like a fever dream. Each time a subject came up, Mitsuhide would look at him and say, “Kyubei can tell you more about that.” Or, “Kyubei is an expert in -” Or even, “What are your thoughts, Kyubei?” 
And the chatelaine’s eyes were on him and he felt as if his whole body might catch on fire. He fought the heat down from his cheeks but feared his expression made his feelings too clear.
When they finished with the tea and snacks, the chatelaine stood up and picked up the tray. “Sorry again for interrupting. But I hope you enjoyed the food.”
“Certainly. And the company as well.” Mitsuhide grinned. “Feel free to stop in whenever you like, little mouse.”
“Yes, thank you for coming by,” Kyubei bowed low, reminding himself again that she was a princess and he was a vassal and this was a favor to his lord. Not to him. Not for him. Not about him. 
His secret flickered, wavering, but held steady. It was alright, he told himself, to hold this one-sided love. So long as she never found out. When he straightened, his expression was appropriate. Only polite. Nothing more.
The chatelaine grabbed his hand and squeezed it. “I am glad you were here when I did! I’ll see you later. Tonight.” She smiled. “It will be fun.”
And he couldn’t help but smile back, genuinely looking forward to it. “I am looking forward to it.”
She let him go and left, and when she was gone the office felt so much emptier. Kyubei took a deep, slow, steadying breath before turning back to work. 
Mitsuhide studied his expression and then sighed. “You will have to work on that.”
“On what?”
“Hmm. On what indeed.” He picked up one of the reports he’d been reviewing before they were interrupted. His eyes returned to the text. Kyubei thought he was in the clear until a few minutes later when he spoke up again. 
“She’s quite pretty. Not a court beauty, of course. But pretty.” Those piercing gold eyes found him again. 
Kyubei chose to play dumb. “Who are we speaking of?”
Mitsuhide’s knowing smile was his answer. Then, a few minutes later, “She isn’t a princess either.”
“The Oda adopted her.” Kyubei’s back tightened as he realized his lord was not going to let this drop. He buried his secret further down, hiding it under the proper words. 
Mitsuhide nodded and his gaze returned to the page as if that was the only point he needed to make. But this time, Kyubei didn’t relax. He knew what his lord was like on the hunt. And he was surely hunting now. 
“There is more than one tale in which a commoner marries a princess.” Mitsuhide didn’t look up this time, and Kyubei was glad for that because he wasn’t sure what face he made right then. “And those were women born into it. She barely knows what her title means.” 
He took a moment before replying, calming the part of his heart that leapt in response to that idea. “Perhaps. But most of those tales end in tragedy, too.”
Mitsuhide scoffed. “Because they were ill-considered.” He did look up then, and there was something in his gaze besides the usual calculation. An unexpected kindness. “I know you are many things, Kyubei. My most trusted assistant. My friend. But you are never careless.” He smiled and it was a gentler expression than his cutting crescent moon grin. “Should you - and I am not saying you are - but should you ever find yourself in love with any kind of princess, take hold of that happiness while you can.”
Kyubei nodded. He understood the fragile hope he was being handed. The gift, given with intent. “I will take that under consideration, my lord.”
“Good.” Mitsuhide’s eyes sparked with mischief. “And when you do, please do me a great favor. Moon after her out of my sight? I think your passionate gazes left syrup on my reports.”
“At your command,” Kyubei chuckled. “But surely it wasn’t that obvious.”
“I could have scraped sugar from the walls, watching the two of you dance around each other. She was about to crawl into your lap.”
“No. She was not! And I was holding back! Trying to be appropriate!” Kyubei protested.
Mitsuhide shook his head. “If that was your best attempt to pretend not to like a girl, I’m going to have to reconsider sending you out to spy for me.”
“You are as cruel as they say,” he sighed and put a hand to his chest. But inside, he was aglow with hope. Delicate as it was, as improbable and unlikely as anything, he was in love with a princess and maybe - just maybe - that was alright. She might even like him back.
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smallblip · 3 months
Text
I do love nothing in the world so well as you
this is an excerpt- full version on Ao3! https://archiveofourown.org/works/53129953
...
“I want to talk about something else.” Satoru says.
"Okay..." And Suguru hums thoughtfully, tapping his cigarette against a mug of abandoned tea. “Have you been seeing anyone?”
“Yeah,” Satoru lies. He’d never be able to pull this off before, but now lying to Suguru comes easily, and he knows this means something.
“That’s nice…” smoke slips past his lips as he speaks. Satoru thinks maybe at this age he can admit to himself that he has a thing for bad boys. That’s probably why this is so attractive to him he could die. “Are they… nice?”
“Yeah… Drop dead gorgeous… Wants to settle down in a melon farm in Tomita… You’d like him…”
“Yeah?” Suguru chuckles, “you love melon…” And Satoru no longer cares to know if Suguru can tell he’s lying. Surely, surely the only man who has ever known his heart would be able to tell in a heartbeat.
Surely.
“Yeah… Not sure if that’s what I want now… I don’t think I’m ready to retire my life to melons…”
Suguru laughs, genuine, unguarded. He looks young again, like he’s listening to Satoru go on and on at the vending machines and he’s thinking that, theoretically, now might be a good time to shut him up with a kiss. (Then again, when isn't it a good time to kiss Satoru). But Suguru has always preferred listening. In fact, he’s been told he’s the only person in the world to pay attention to anything Satoru has to say- to laugh at anything Satoru has to say. 
“Why not?” Suguru leans into him and knocks the side of their heads together. “I think you’d make a fine melon prince…”
Satoru grumbles a weak protest something about shutting him up, about showing him what melon prince can do, but he knows his face is red.
There’s virtually no space between them now, and even so the next part is so quiet Satoru almost misses it, “maybe Tomita’s not such a good idea…”
“Why? Don’t have any chapters in Tomita?” Satoru retorts rather sourly, and he has the absolute pleasure of watching Suguru’s eyes widen momentarily before his face explodes into sheer amusement and laughter. Satoru can’t help but grin at him, like the lovesick idiot he had been in high school, who had lived to make his best friend laugh. Lucky for him laughter comes easily to Suguru when he’s with him.
“And you? Any suitors?”
“Been busy…” Suguru shrugs, “besides I don’t think the girls would take well to me seeing someone…”
“Ah…” Satoru replies, eyes drawn into the way Suguru lifts the cigarette to his lips and draws a deep breath in, out.
“Nanako especially… She’s a stubborn one…”
“Like you…” Satoru smiles.
Suguru smiles back, and Satoru will stay up thinking about that smile and why it’s such a sad one. “And Mimiko always gives in…” then a much quieter “like you…”
Satoru’s heart races faster than he can contain, faster than he can manage a reply. So he doesn’t. Doesn't want to get into a debate with Suguru. Doesn’t want to go into the details of their relationship. Of how Gojo Satoru is endlessly stubborn and insistent and relentless, and how Geto Suguru has always, always given in. How Shoko had spent years telling him that he’ll pay a heavy price for indulging Satoru the way he did, for spoiling Satoru the way he did.
Instead he says “I would’ve loved to meet them… They would like me…” he’s confident because it’s true. He thinks. He’s the expert on children now. Teenager him would never believe this is what the future holds. And Suguru can’t bear to tell him that well, they know of you. They always ask Suguru where he’s been after the nights he spends with Satoru. The girls notice the shift in the air around him after they meet. They don’t quite know the reason behind the sadness in his eyes, but that doesn’t stop them from noticing. And that “yeah whatever, of course they would like you. Who wouldn’t…” 
“Megumi got into the school team by the way… We shopped for new sneakers yesterday to celebrate… He’s really good when he puts his mind to it…”
“Can he bat?”
“The best!” Satoru beams with pride. “He has a game coming up this weekend… He told me not to embarrass him…”
“So you made a sign?”
Satoru winks for good measure, “the most obnoxious one yet…”
Suguru throws his head back and laughs, and Satoru thinks nothing has changed. There’s a look on his face, conspiratorial almost, the one he’d given Satoru so many times before- that’s my Satoru for you…The smell of the salt breeze is sweet against his skin.
“Poor boy…” Suguru chuckles, like he’s imagining the scene- Satoru and his large sign painted in bright fucking neon, and the boy’s mortified expression. Oh he would’ve given money to see it.
“Megumi is lucky…” the way Megumi’s name sounds so familiar when Suguru says it makes Satoru dream of forever. They have not met but he knows Megumi would have taken to Suguru easily, a little too easily, perhaps. In a way that would make him jealous, maybe. “Would’ve loved to be there…”
And Satoru hums a reply. He doesn’t get angry. Not anymore. Not when Suguru talks about the way he wishes things were. He remembers a distant past where he would get mad, where he would yell and blame and yell again. How could it not be evidently clear that they’re drowning in the choices that Suguru has made. That he had been the only one who had any choice in the matter. But that time has passed. Now he holds onto these moments. Speaks of them as if none of them had a choice. As if Suguru had been doomed from the start. As if everything had been written by the fates and all they can do is live by the roles they’ve been assigned. And this part of the play is a happy one. There’s no room for sadness, for that is past.
The only way is forward.
So Satoru will play his part.
He closes his eyes and he sees Megumi’s frame stage centre. The spotlights are harsh on him, he’s shrouded in their hot glow. From his grip on the bat Satoru can tell that every fibre of his being is trained on the ball in the pitcher’s hand. It’s moments like these that he thinks- that he knows Megumi can accomplish everything he sets his mind to. The pitcher launches the ball, Megumi bats, and the ball flies.
Since when has his boy gotten so strong?
Satoru waits in bated breath as he watches Megumi go.
Since when has his boy gotten so fast?
He doesn’t realise his fists are clenched until he feels a warmth snaking around his hand, urging him to open his palm to gentle fingers. He looks to their hands, clasped together hard in sure prayer, then at the man beside him.
“That’s a homerun for sure, Satoru… It has to be!”
Suguru’s eyes are on Megumi. He’s on the edge of his seat, lips parting in awe. Suguru had played baseball in middle school too. And he’d been good. What can Suguru not do. So Satoru believes him.
Sure enough the crowd cheers when Megumi hits a homerun. Satoru jumps out of his seat and he whoops and whistles and he watches as Megumi grimaces when he sees him. But there’s a hint of smile on the boy’s face. And he hears Suguru cheering and laughing beside him. “Go Megumi!”
The curtain falls.
Satoru opens his eyes and Suguru is beside him, cigarette extinguished, gaze gentle, a look that is only ever meant for Satoru. Hands reach for his face, and his cheek is enveloped in the warmth of Suguru’s palms. His thumb brushes across Satoru’s brows, across the corners of his eyes.
“Let me know if you change your mind about the melons and I might consider a chapter in Tomita…”
“Why? You’ll miss me that much?” Satoru blurts, already drifting off to sleep. His mind struggles to paint an accurate picture of reality. There are fragments of memories interlaced with the present, and Satoru feels like he’s dreaming in Suguru’s room again, underneath band posters, beside the ivies he keeps by his window. He’s safe here, and nothing bad has happened to them yet.
Suguru presses a kiss to his forehead, gentle, sure as the sun. “Always, Satoru” he whispers, “all the time…”
And Satoru hides away in the crook of Suguru’s neck. Because if he sees his face now he might die.
Since when has his boy needed him so?
Perhaps this is the way it’s always been with Suguru. The boy who had been so sure of himself rendered vulnerable because Satoru managed to wriggle his way into his soul, leaving a hole so will spend the rest of his days longing. Loving Satoru comes so easily to him, like skin over bones, imprinted in muscle. So he will love his boy even in death.
Satoru wants to return the favour, tell Suguru the ins and outs of his desires. Call his name like the seas crashing against safe shores. But surely, surely the only man who has ever known his heart would be able to tell in a heartbeat.
“Yeah, yeah it’s a deal then,” Satoru murmurs, delirious. And in that moment, he’s Satoru at seventeen, coming back from an exhausting mission and laying in Suguru’s lap, in Suguru’s room, having Suguru thread gentle fingers through his hair like a pet cat. Later he will jerk awake from his slumber momentarily to re-announce their plans the coming weekend just in case Suguru has the audacity to forget. Oh my god! Saturday! The digimon pop-up, remember? The digimon pop-up. Fucking need it- need to go. Now, home in the sheets of a soggy love hotel, he says in similar fashion, “we’ll grow old together on a melon farm or whatever…”
And with that, Satoru is lulled to sleep by the thunder in Suguru’s chest, and the rumble of his fading laughter. I want to go to sleep and never wake up again, he thinks. Sleep past the third act, the fourth, the curtain call, the encore, the applause.
But Satoru has to play his part.
And the only way is forward.
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lionlena · 11 months
Text
We don’t love each other (PedroPascalxreader) angst! Part III
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Summary:  You and Pedro are: friends with benefits, for many years. Your layout is simple and clear. You don't love each other. You're friends on a daily basis, you take care of each other... Sometimes you sleep together. You go on dates with other men and Pedro doesn't mind. Everything is simple until you accidentally hear Oscar say that Pedro loves you. Then you decide to tell him the truth and you ruin everything.
Warnings: angst!!! smut, mentions of sex, friends with benefits, sad, broken hearts, age difference (reader is 15 years younger than Pedro)
*
Part III
You were sitting on his lap, facing him. His lips trailed kisses down your neck as your hands roamed his back. You felt his muscles move under your hands.
"Pedro," you moaned.
He pulled away for a moment to look at you and you were lost in his brown eyes. You wanted to kiss him so much...
*
You woke up with a gasp. You wiped your face with your hand and looked to the side at the sleeping Tyler. The dreams about Pedro started coming two days after you moved in with Tyler.
You thought it would be a good idea. You've always complained about the rent in your old apartment. You also naively thought that it would make it easier for you to forget about Pedro. Nothing of that. You told yourself it was because "Pascal" name had been flooding the internet lately. Twitter, YouTube, Tumblr... All you had to do was go to Google news and of course you saw the smiling face of the man who made your heart break. That's why you almost stopped using your phone. It was causing you too much pain. You decided it was time to take care of yourself. If Pedro could move forward, so could you. You went back to your old hobby, read more books, cooked for Tyler.
Despite your efforts, your mind kept returning stubbornly to Pedro.
You knew you wouldn't be able to sleep anyway so you got up and went to the bathroom. You splashed cold water on your face and stared at your reflection.
You looked terrible. Puffy eyes, pale skin and disheveled hair. You even noticed a few gray hairs. Only two or three, but it made you realize that you were no longer a silly twenty-year-old running to college parties.
And of course, the question must have popped into your head:
What would happen if you meet Pedro for the first time, now? Now, when his fame reached the tops of the Alps.
He probably wouldn't even remember your name.
Your mind instantly recalled your first meeting.
*
You went out with your best friend for a drink, well, years later you wouldn't call her the best. While she found herself a one-night stand, you were left alone. You didn't mind. You weren't a little kid and you knew how to get back to your apartment. Unfortunately, that night you must have been stuck with two filthy dudes who didn't understand the word "no." You knew one of them from college, but it didn't matter. They were pushy and didn't want to leave you. You left the bar and they started walking with you.
"Let's go have another drink."
"No," you snapped.
"Don't be like that." One of them grabbed your arm. "Can't you be more funny?"
You tried to brush his hand off your body, but he was relentless.
"Listen you..."
Suddenly, a thin, tall, dark-haired man walked up to you.
"Honey, here you are! I've been looking everywhere for you, sorry I'm late!" The man put his arm around you and kissed your head whispering. "I'll help you."
Your unwanted suitors immediately moved away, but they were still keeping a close eye on you. So you wrapped your arms around the stranger's waist and smiled.
"Never mind. The important thing is that you're finally here."
For a few more minutes, you both walked hugging. And you felt so safe with his arm around you. It was funny. After all, he could be some kind of pervert, a serial killer... And yet, as soon as, you looked into his brown eyes, you really trusted him.
When you two were far enough away, he looked back and let you go. You stopped and finally had a chance to get a better look at him. He was really handsome. He had fine stubble on his face, a dark mustache under his nose, and his hair was adorably disheveled.
"Okay. They're gone."
You felt relief flood you.
"Thank you, I don't know what would have happened if you hadn't come."
When he smiled at you, your legs softened.
"I'm Pedro."
"Y/N."
You held out your hand to him and he shook it gently.
"Y/N, maybe I'll walk you home? This isn't the safest neighborhood."
Your name sounded like a song on his lips. You nodded.
"Unless you have other plans. Normally I wouldn't go back alone, but my friend stood me up."
"Sure. It's not a problem."
And just like that, you started talking about everything. At one point you asked:
"So, Pedro, what do you do?"
"I'm an actor."
"Oh, seriously! Where can I see you?"
"Soon, I will be appearing in the fourth season of Game of Thrones."
"No balls... Oh no! Really?! God, it's such awesome ."
Your enthusiasm clearly made him laugh.
"You're so funny."
"Oh, those two wouldn't agree with you.”
"Fuck them. Two horny assholes."
When you were standing in front of your apartment, Pedro said:
"Take my phone number and call me next time you're going to a party. I don't abandon my friends."
And it was so simple. You made friends with Pedro Pascal. Hollywood's rising star. And as they say: the rest is history.
*
You left the bathroom with a heavy heart. It was still early in the morning and you didn't want to make too much noise. You went to the guest room, where there were still several boxes of your things. You grabbed one of them with your old clothes in it. You started unpacking them and then you noticed a lace lingerie set between the sweatshirts. You remembered him perfectly. Your mind immediately flooded your head with memories.
*
It was past midnight when you rang the doorbell. You didn't mind the late hour. You knew Pedro was preparing for a new role and would be practicing late. Even if he was sleeping, he would welcome you with open arms.
After a while the door opened and you saw him. He smiled, though he looked surprised.
"Y/N. You said you had a date."
You waved your hand and walked inside without waiting for an invitation.
"He was a complete asshole. He told me from the beginning that I was too short and that I should wear taller shoes for the next date." You sat down on the couch, dropping an empty pizza wrapper off of it. "Idiot, there will be no second date."
"Hmm... Actually, he was a dick." Pedro said.
You snorted and started looking around. Pedro's living room was a bit messy. Nothing out of the ordinary, but still. Pedro himself was wearing a stained T-shirt and sweatpants.
"Is that ketchup or blood?"
"Ketchup" he muttered and sat down next to you. "I'd clean it up if you called."
You looked at him carefully. You didn't know why, but you felt something was wrong with him. You reached out your hand to him and caressed his cheek.
"Did everything's all right?"
"Yeah...  It's just one of those lazy days, you know."
"Hmm, okay." You tilted your head back. "I hate dates like this. Look at me. I'm so dressed up."
"It's true. You look like a princess in that dress."
You laughed and looked at him. You knew that twinkle in his eyes. He was hungry. Well, you wanted a little snack too. You expected your evening to end differently, and yet you were on Pedro's couch.
You sat up straight and looked at the pile of papers on the table.
"Any interesting scenes in this Kingsman?" you asked and winked at him.
You still remembered how you two rehearsed scenes for Narcos .
Pedro bit his lip and nodded.
"Actually, there's one. Funny, but... Wait, I'm going to look pathetic in this shirt when I say that."
He jumped off the couch and ran to the bedroom. You actually wanted to yell at him not to bother because you two will be undressing anyway.  After a few minutes you got impatient.
"Pedro!!!"
"One sec!"
When he reappeared, he was wearing a fitted navy blue shirt and skinny black jeans.
"Okay, it was worth the wait."
He reached out to you and pulled you to your feet. He guided you to where there was more room and placed his hands on your hips.
"Okay, so I say my line and walk towards you with my arms outstretched and you step back."
"Like I want run away?"
"Hmmm, no. Just, like you want to keep your distance."
"Ok."
Pedro took two steps back and got into his role. He looked you up and down and ran his tongue over his teeth.
“Hello,  gorgeous. I'm Jack. What's your name?" He started walking towards you and you took a step back as planned. "How would you like to ride home on a real cowboy? I got ..."
You started laughing and he looked at you reproachfully.
"Y/n."
"I'm sorry, you so hot. And I don't want to move away from you when you say it."
He shook his head and placed his hands on your waist.
"How would you like to ride home on a real cowboy? I got a six pack of cold ones on ice, and my roomie's out all night. So you can scream my name as loud as you need to, sugar!"
"Oh yes!" you moaned as you felt yourself getting wet between your legs.
After a while you were in the bedroom and he helped you take off your dress. He stared at your underwear in awe.
"That prick doesn't know what he's lost... Well, I'll take advantage."
You started to unbutton his shirt and pushed him onto the bed. You straddled him and his hands cupped your breasts. You leaned in and kissed him on the shoulder. You'd prefer his lips, but your arrangement had a few rules. One of them was: we don't kiss during sex.
Kisses on the lips were reserved for romantic relationships, and you were friends with benefits.
You felt his finger slip under your panties and strokes your clit. You moaned and started wriggle.You felt his cock start to swell. You unzipped his fly and he gasped in relief.
You slid off him to help him take off his pants and he unhooked your bra. You've done it many times. You knew each other's bodies, you knew what pleased the other person. It was the dance of your bodies in which you were specialists.
Later, when you were lying in bed together, Pedro pulled you close and hugged you tightly. You felt his chest pressing against your back. He buried his nose in your hair and sighed.
You had some weird feeling that something was wrong, but you were so sleepy. You patted his shoulder and asked sleepily:
"Are you sure everything's okay?"
"Yes, Cupcake ." He kissed you on the head. "Sleep."
When you woke up in the morning, you were alone in bed. There was a T-shirt and shorts on the mattress that Pedro had left for you, so you wouldn't have to wear a dress in the morning. You went to the bathroom, took a shower and brushed your teeth with your toothbrush. Yes, you had your toothbrush in Pedro's bathroom. It didn't seem strange to you. You stayed with him so often that it seemed natural to you.
As you walked through the living room, you noticed it was cleaned. Walking into the kitchen you smiled at Pedro and hugged him.
"Hi." He returned your hug. "Did you sleep well?"
You sat down in a chair by the kitchen island and nodded. Pedro placed a cup of coffee in front of you.
"Do you want scrambled eggs or toast?"
"Toast". You took a sip of coffee. "I'll eat and call a taxi."
Pedro immediately reacted with opposition.
"No. You're off today. Stay longer."
"Pedro, sweetie, you should be preparing for the role."
"And? You don't bother me. In fact, your presence calms me down."
You couldn't say no when he looked at you with those puppy eyes.
"Okay. But you'll drive me home tonight."
"Everything for you."
*
You snapped out of the memory and shoved your underwear to the bottom of the box. You pulled out your phone feeling the sudden urge to watch that particular Kingsman scene . It was funny maybe. Maybe a bit pathetic. But you needed it so much.
However, when you unlocked your phone, you noticed that you had a missed text message sent the previous day. From Oscar.
"Y/N. Call me. We need to meet and talk."
You froze. What could he want from you? There was a times when you two got along. But, you always felt like Oscar was keeping you on a distance. Now he suddenly wanted to talk. You guessed what was the reason. Or rather, who.
Common sense told you that you should text him back, "Fuck off."
You'll never start a normal life if you keep going back to Pedro, but... Instead, you wrote back to Oscar where and what time you could meet.
*
Are you really here or am I dreaming?
I can't tell dreams from truth
For it's been so long since
I have seen you
I can hardly remember your face anymore
When I get really lonely and the distance causes only silence
I think of you smiling
With pride in your eyes
A lover that sighs
Marketa Irglova - If You Want Me
Part I
Part II
Part IV
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